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alygator77 · 5 months ago

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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 3 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical, from naoya not satoru) » 【note, this chapter contains explicit sexual content (m masturbation)】

ꨄ words: 13.3k

ꨄ a/n. oh wowie, here it is. i hope ya'll enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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series masterlist ꨄ︎ previous chapter ꨄ︎ next chapter →

ch 3 // fractured realities

Streams of light filter in through the drapes of your bedroom, casting a soft glow across the room.

A groan escapes your lips as you feel a dull throb on your temple—a reminder of the countless glasses of wine and champagne you indulged in at the gala. But as fragmented images of the evening flood your mind, your headache doesn’t end there.

You kissed Satoru Gojo.

Correction—you kissed the hell out of Satoru Gojo.

Each detail is more vivid than the last—the warmth of his breath, the firmness of his hold, the taste of him, and his soft groan that you swallowed against your lips.

God, it felt too real, too intense.

You sit up in your bed, rubbing your temples as you try to shake off the lingering effects of last night’s revelry, but you can’t ignore the fluttering sensation that stirs within—your cheeks growing hot from the memory.

Ugh. Being hungover and flushed is not a combination you enjoy.

When did Satoru start having such an intense effect on you?

You want to blame it on a lapse of judgement—perhaps the alcohol lowered your inhibitions? Sure, let’s go with that. That feels better than admitting that maybe you secretly wanted to kiss Satoru Gojo.

He’s insufferable after all—you can’t stand him…right?

Fuck, this is confusing.

Why does it feel like there has been a subtle tension between you and Satoru that has been simmering beneath the surface for a while now, each interaction, each glance, adding fuel to the fire?

Every shared look carries an unspoken promise, every touch lingers a fraction too long, leaving your skin tingling and your heart racing. It’s as if you’re both walking a tightrope, balancing on the edge of something profoundly transformative.

Are you imagining things?

Silently cursing yourself, you know these thoughts you’re having will only make things more complicated. This is simply a contract—nothing more.

Transactional. Business.

With a deep sigh, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, hoping to shake off these intrusive throughs with a stretch of your muscles.

If only it were that simple.

Perhaps a shower will help clear your mind—a chance to cleanse yourself from the remnants of last night’s indulgences.

Shuffling towards the bathroom, a yawn escapes your mouth as you rub your eyes tiredly, reaching for the door. But the moment you open it, you freeze in your tracks.

With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, Satoru stands outside the shower, droplets of water glistening on his bare chest, each bead tracing the defined lines of his muscles. You can’t help but notice the way the water trails down his torso, accentuating every ridge and curve. It’s as if he’s been sculpted from marble, each detail painstakingly crafted to perfection.

For a moment, neither of you move—a stunned silence filling the room as your eyes lock.

His damp hair sticks to his forehead in an almost boyish manner, contrasting sharply with his otherwise commanding presence, and your eyes trail downwards…

Oh.

The smooth contours of his abs carve a path down towards the towel hanging precariously low on his hips, leaving little to the imagination.

Your heart races, and you feel a blush rushing to your cheeks. Your eyes flicker back up to Satoru’s and fuck, he caught you—eyes twinkling with amusement as his lips slowly curl into a self-satisfied grin.

“Good morning to you too. Enjoying the view?”

The heat in your cheeks intensifies as your eyes widen, blinking rapidly, trying to snap yourself out of your daze.

“I... I didn’t realize you were in here,” you stammer, voice higher than usual.

Satoru’s smirk widens as he reaches for an extra towel, rubbing it against his head to dry his hair. He then drapes the towel across his shoulders and meets your gaze with an alluring glint.

“Well, if you wanted to see more, you only had to ask.”

Pressing your lips together in protest, you try to regain some semblance of composure. Satoru had always teased you—don’t take it too seriously, you tell yourself.

Clearing your throat, you advert your gaze, though the crimson hue still remains on your cheeks.

“Don’t flatter yourself. It was an accident—besides, you’re the one who forgot to lock the door.”

Satoru lets out a contemplative hum, feigning innocence as he walks towards the sink.

“Guess I’m not used to sharing a bathroom,” he leans against the counter and crosses his arms, eyes surveying you with a mischievous glint, “You’re to blame too though, could’ve at least knocked. Unless, you were hoping to join me?” he grins.

Your eyes widen, and you can feel the blush creeping up your neck.

“In your dreams, Satoru.”

A low chuckle escapes him as his stare bores into you—oh how he lives for this. Satoru’s always loved seeing you flustered, but this? This is something else entirely, a new level of satisfaction he hadn’t anticipated.

“Sure, sure,” he pauses, then tilts his head to the side. “But you’re still standing there, aren’t you?”

You swallow hard, eyes flickering between his face and his chest, unable to decide where to look. His satisfaction grows with every falter in your gaze, his knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Each glance is a step deeper into a trap of your own making, an unspoken admission that he holds more sway over you than you care to admit.

“Just... put some clothes on, please. And yes, I’m standing here because I’d like to take a shower. Aren’t you done? Why are you still here.”

“Oh sure, I’m done. You can shower, but aren’t you gonna return the favor? Do I get a show too?”

Your breath catches in your throat at his boldness, the heat in your cheeks spreading down your neck. The intensity of his gaze pins you in place, a silent challenge that sends a shiver through your body.

“Not a chance,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “This isn’t some kind of peep show.”

Satoru gives you an annoyingly innocent pout, rubbing his neck with a sly grin, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Tch. Too bad. Would’ve been a great way to start the morning.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past him to get to the shower.

“Out,” you command, pointing towards the door.

He raises his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling as he walks out.

“Alright, alright. Enjoy your shower, princess.”

You lock the door firmly behind him—heart pounding and your thoughts in disarray. As you step into the shower and the warm water cascades over you, you can’t help but replay the scene in your mind, each word and gesture etched vividly in your memory.

He’s just teasing—you remind yourself as you try to push away the fluttering feeling in your chest. Don’t take his words seriously, your relationship is a charade.

You close your eyes, letting the water wash over you, but the confusion remains.

Fuck. This is getting complicated.

ꨄ︎

The moment you close the door firmly behind him, Satoru leans against it for a moment, his smirk fading into a more contemplative expression.

He runs a hand through his hair—the sight of you, wide-eyed and blushing, had done more to him than he cared to admit. Exhaling slowly, he realizes that he’s in deeper than he thought.

As his thoughts drift back to the kiss you had shared at the gala, a familiar heat pools in his lower abdomen. The way your lips had felt against his—soft and inviting—the memory of your taste, the way you fit so perfectly against him…fuck. It stirs something primal within him.

He can’t deny the growing attraction he feels. After seeing you there with your cheeks flushed and your eyes surveying him, he had wanted to pull you closer, to see if your lips were as warm and inviting as he remembered.

Satoru groans as he adjusts his towel, feeling the fabric brush against his growing erection, trying to focus on anything other than the way you looked at him—the way the framework of your sleepwear accentuated your curves, the indent of your nipples peeking through the thin satin of your tank top. God, his desire only intensifies.

The contract was clear—no emotional entanglements. Yet here he was, aroused as his mind is consumed by you. He can’t help but wonder…what would it be like to explore this connection further, to let go, to give in to his curiosity completely.

Would it be so bad to just…fantasize?

He hears the shower turn on from behind the closed door—God, he can just imagine what it would be like to slide his hands all over your bare body.

Reaching down, he unwraps the towel from his waist, his cock slamming against his abdomen as it springs free from confinement. He curses under his breath; this wasn’t supposed to happen. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like this, but he can’t help but reach down and grip the base of his girth—he needs this, he wants this.

He needs you.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he begins to stroke himself, his hand moving slowly as he traces a familiar path over his length. There's a dull thud as Satoru's head hits the door, his eyes fluttering shut as he gives in to his imagination.

He can picture it vividly in his mind, the way the water would slide over your body, the way you'd respond to his touch... fuck, he can practically hear the little gasps and moans that would escape your lips as he touches you, the sounds that would drive him wild.

He bites his bottom lip, his hand moving slowly, trying to be as silent as possible. The thought of you, just on the other side of the door, excites him even more.

His breath comes out in short gasps as he imagines you, wet and wanting under the spray of the shower. The way your body would arch beneath his touch as he slides his digits between your warm walls. The water would run in rivulets down your body and you’d shiver under his touch, whispering his name, begging for more.

His breathing grows heavier as he speeds up his pace, envisioning you on your knees before him, your head bowed in submission, wet and flushed, looking up at him with a half-lidded desire in your eyes.

He wants you so desperately it's painfully evident in every movement—it’s almost too much to bear.

Your name slips from his lips – a desperate plea rather than a simple invocation. Fuck, it feels so good to have your name rolling off his tongue as he does something so indecent.

He can almost feel your hot, wet tongue swirling around his sensitive head, tasting him, savoring him. His free hand trails down to cup his balls, rolling them gently between his fingers as he pumps faster, just as you would while you take every inch of him in your pretty little mouth.

“Fuck…” he hisses through clenched teeth, his pace quickening as he chases the release he so desperately craves.

He shouldn’t be doing this, especially not right outside the bathroom door. But in this moment, he can't bring himself to care. Nothing else matters but you.

He pictures himself taking you right there, pushing you against the tiled wall, claiming your mouth in a fierce kiss as he thrusts himself deep inside you. The image of you quivering in pleasure drives Satoru further into madness. His strokes become erratic, desperate.

Satoru's entire body tenses, muscles coiling tight as he throws his head back. A desperate whine slips past his clenched teeth “Fuck…I’m gonna…”

His hips jerk erratically, pumping his cock in time with the spasms wracking his body. He whimpers as spurt after spurt of hot cum coats his stomach and chest, the sticky fluid painting his skin with evidence of his forbidden desires. Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, each syllable punctuated by another forceful stroke as his hand continues to move, milking every last drop.

Panting heavily, he slumps against the door, his heart pounding in his chest while his spent cock twitches with residual pleasure. As he slowly comes back to reality, he realizes what he's done.

This wasn't supposed to happen—he was meant to tease you, not end up teasing himself. But there was no denying the effect you had on him anymore.

Fuck.

What the fuck is he thinking? This can’t happen again.

He needs to take another shower.

ꨄ︎

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap a fluffy towel around your body as the warm steam curls around you. You begin to head back to your room, but the moment you open the bathroom door, you are caught off guard, immediately met by one of the house staff, holding out a freshly laundered robe.

“Good morning, ma’am. Your robe.”

“Thank you,” you hesitate slightly, trying to offer a polite smile.

Taking the robe, you begin to make your way to the walk-in closet, yet another staff member is waiting with a selection of outfits.

"I've picked out a few choices for today's events, Mrs. Gojo."

You take a deep breath, "Thanks, I'll take a look."

It’s barely morning and you already have staff at your beck and call—sure, they mean well, but it’s suffocating. You’re not one for a lot of attention.

As the staff member steps aside, you examine the array of outfits.

Your eyes scan the elegant dresses, tailored suits, and chic ensembles neatly arranged on hangers. It’s not quite as elegant as the gala, but it’s clear that Satoru must have something important planned for the day. Each outfit exudes sophistication and class, far more extravagant than your usual attire.

As you run your fingers over the fabric of a particularly stunning dress, a ball of nerves settles within you. The thrill of wondering what Satoru has in store is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. You select the dress, hoping it aligns with whatever he has planned.

After slipping into the elegant dress, you make your way to your vanity. But just as your fingers curl around the handle of your hairbrush, a maid materializes at your side, yet again.

"Good morning, ma'am. Can I assist you with your hair today?"

Is a moment to yourself too much to ask?

Your headache from last night’s wine lingers, and the incessant stream of people is beginning to fray your nerves—it’s really too much.

Offering another polite smile, you try to mask the mild irritation simmering beneath.

"No, thank you. I can manage.”

The maid nods and steps back, only for another staff member to glide in right behind her, almost as if choreographed.

This one carries a gleaming silver tray adorned with an array of high-end skincare products, each bottle and jar meticulously arranged, their labels promising luxury and perfection.

"Your skincare routine, ma'am."

You close your eyes momentarily, trying to remain patient, your voice as calm as you can manage.

"I appreciate it, really, but I have my own products."

The staff member hesitates, her expression a mix of confusion and professionalism.

"Of course, ma'am," she replies, inclining her head respectfully before retreating.

As the door closes behind her, you release a long, weary sigh. The constant attention is smothering, and you long for the simplicity of your old life.

Those quiet mornings, the sweet solitary moments where you could just… be – without the pressure of performing or living up to impossible standards.

But like it or not, this is your reality now. Guess you’ll just need to find a way to navigate it without losing yourself in the process.

ꨄ︎

By the time you make it downstairs, Haru is already seated at the elegant dining table, her small hands fiddling with her silverware. Satoru sits at the head of the table, reading through some documents.

The table is laden with a lavish breakfast spread—perfectly arranged fruits, pastries, and an assortment of gourmet dishes. The scent threatens to overwhelm you as the lingering effects of last night’s indulgence in wine and champagne churn in your stomach.

"Good morning," Satoru says, glancing up with a grin, looking annoyingly refreshed.

Rubbing the temple of your head, you attempt a tired smile.

“Morning.”

Satoru watches you with amusement as you slide into your seat. The rich aroma of the elaborate breakfast instantly greets your nostrils, prompting a groan to escape your lips.

"How are you feeling?" he quirks a brow.

"Like I drank half the wine cellar," you grimace.

Satoru leans back in his chair, his grin widening, and Haru giggles, watching you with wide curious eyes as you bury your face in your hands.

“Mama sleepy,” she declares with the wisdom of a two-year-old.

“Yes, Haru…Mama is very sleepy,” you mutter, peaking at her through your fingers. Despite the hangover, that innocent laugh brings a small smile to your face.

Satoru chuckles, setting his documents aside as he reaches for his mug.

"You should’ve stuck to the champagne, lightweight," he teases, bringing his coffee up to his lips.

You shoot him a half-hearted glare.

"Not helping."

A chef sets down a plate of perfectly arranged eggs benedict directly in front of you with a flourish, each element meticulously placed. The aroma wafts up and you instinctively push the plate away.

"Actually, do you have any toast? With jelly?" your voice tinged with a mix of disgust and desperation.

The chef looks momentarily puzzled, a slight furrow forming on his brow, but he nods politely.

"Of course, ma'am."

You abruptly get up, deciding to find it yourself. Making your way to the nearby pantry, you move with purpose as you begin rummaging through the neatly organized shelves. You feel Satoru’s amused gaze following your every move. Turning, you see him leaning back in his chair, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he watches you with evident curiosity.

“You're like a college student after a party. All this gourmet food and you want toast?"

Your fingers brush past jars of exotic spices and imported oils until you finally find what you’re looking for—a simple loaf of bread and a jar of ruby-red jelly. The familiar, comforting sight of them brings a small, satisfied smile to your lips. You turn to Satoru, holding up the items triumphantly.

“I just want something simple.”

As you set the bread and jelly down on the counter, Haru, perched nearby with wide and curious eyes, giggles at the sight.

"Mama wants toast!" she announces gleefully, her little voice echoing through the kitchen like a bell.

A grin curls up your lips as you unclasp the bread bag.

"Yes, mama wants toast," you say, popping a slice into the toaster. Leaning casually against the marble countertop, you shift your gaze to Satoru. “Anyways Mr. Gourmet, what’s the plan for today?”

Satoru leans back, his eyes narrowing playfully as he studies you.

"Well, I was thinking we could go over some things regarding Gojo Corporation. There are a few upcoming projects I’ve been meaning to discuss with you and I’d like your insight."

You arch an eyebrow, mildly caught off guard by the suggestion.

"Really? You usually handle all that on your own."

He nods, the movement slow and deliberate.

"True," he concedes, "but as my wife, I think it’s time you start coming back to the office with me. I want you to be more involved, and it’s important for everyone to see us working together as a team."

Your eyes widen in surprise.

"You want me to be more involved? I’m just a secretary."

Satoru shrugs with a casual air, but there’s a determined edge to his voice that tells you he’s thought this through.

"I’ve taken on a lot more responsibilities lately, and I could use your help. Besides, your insights have always been valuable to me.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sudden pop of the toaster pulls your attention away. Turning your focus to the toast, you carefully spread jelly across the warm slice, but the task does little to settle the fluttering sensation in your chest.

This is a big ask.

You've always been behind the scenes, a secretary who knew the inner workings but never sat at the table where decisions were made. And now, here he is, trusting you with responsibilities that feel like they belong to someone else—someone more experienced, more confident.

It’s strange, surreal even, that Satoru would entrust you with such a significant role. Even if this is just a charade, this role requires more than just understanding the business. It requires being a partner in the truest sense.

“So…you’re serious about this? Gojo Corporation, we’re doing this together now?” you ask, returning to your seat, your voice carrying a hint of uncertainty as you search his eyes for reassurance.

Satoru nods.

“Absolutely. I think it’s time we show everyone what a true power couple looks like,” he replies, punctuating his words with a wink.

Leaning forward, he rests his chin in the cradle of his hand as he props his elbow casually on the table. His gaze locks onto yours, a glint of something more behind his deep blue eyes.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice softening slightly, “the office just isn’t the same without you.”

You take a slow bite of your toast, savoring the buttery warmth as it spreads across your tongue, but it’s nothing compared to the unexpected warmth blossoming in your chest at his words.

“Yeah, right,” you murmur, “You just want to make me do all the paperwork."

His grin broadens, the corners of his mouth lifting into that familiar, dangerously charming smile that always seems to disarm you.

"Guilty as charged."

Haru reaches out eagerly, her tiny fingers wiggling with impatience.

“Toast!” she demands with all the confidence and adorable assertiveness of a two-year-old.

You tear off a small piece and place it into her eagerly awaiting hand. She takes it with a giggle, her eyes lighting up as she munches happily.

As you lift your toast back up to your lips, you catch Satoru’s gaze lingering on you. There is a subtle shift in his expression—a depth of emotion, a certain tenderness that makes you wonder what he could be thinking.

"What?" you ask, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone, though you’re not entirely sure why.

He doesn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch as a grin tugs at the corners of his lips. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he finally speaks.

"Nothing," he eventually says with a playful yet genuine edge. “It’s just... interesting to see you choose something so ordinary.”

“Sometimes less is more.” you counter, a hint of challenge in your voice. “Besides, not everyone grew up with chefs and staff at their beck and call. It’s a bit much sometimes.”

Satoru leans back in his chair, the smirk widening as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh? Are you saying my lifestyle is too much for you?”

You gesture broadly around the lavish room.

"Look at all this,” you exclaim, your voice tinged with a mix of awe and exasperation. “The staff, the gourmet meals, the constant attention. It's like I'm living in a palace. I can't breathe without someone trying to do something for me, and I can’t even cook for Haru without feeling like I'm stepping on someone's toes."

The words spill out before you can catch them, each one landing with a weight you hadn’t fully anticipated. There’s an undercurrent of something deeper in your tone, a tension that has been simmering just below the surface—an unease that you’ve been trying to push aside, but now, in this moment, it bubbles over, impossible to ignore.

Satoru’s gaze sharpens and he arches an eyebrow as he catches the subtle shift in your demeanor.

"You miss cooking?" his voice softening with genuine interest.

“Yeah, I do,” you confess, your voice tinged with a mix of longing and resignation. “It’s one of the few things that makes me feel grounded, like I’m in control of something. Plus, Haru loves my cooking.”

He regards you with an intensity that catches you off guard.

“I didn’t realize you felt that way. You know… you’re welcome to cook whenever you want. This is your home too, after all.”

There’s a brief pause as he seems to mull something over, his eyes distant before snapping back to yours with a newfound determination. He leans forward slightly, his eyes locked onto yours.

“How about this—you cook dinner tonight? I’ll tell the chef to take the night off.”

You blink, momentarily taken aback by the offer.

“You’d really do that?”

"Why not?" he says with a shrug. "This is your home now, for the next year at least. Besides, it’ll be nice to see you in your element, and I’m curious to taste your cooking."

A spark of excitement flickers within you at the idea, the thought of returning to something familiar and comforting lifting your spirits.

“Alright then,” you agree, a playful challenge in your tone. “But don’t complain if it doesn’t meet your gourmet standards.”

“I’m sure it will be perfect,” he responds, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that sends a ripple of anticipation through you.

He leans in closer, his elbow resting on the table as he tilts his head, his intense gaze locking onto yours. The proximity makes your heart skip a beat, the air between you charged with an unspoken connection.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he adds, his voice low, almost a whisper, as if sharing a secret meant only for you.

You hold his gaze, trying to maintain your composure, though you can feel a flutter in your chest.

“Just promise me you won’t hover in the kitchen,” you quip, lifting an eyebrow as you lean back slightly, creating a bit of space to steady your racing heart.

Satoru’s grin only widens, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes as he mirrors your movement, leaning back as well.

“No promises. I might want to learn a thing or two."

You cross your arms, challenging him with a smirk and a pointed look.

“You? Help out in the kitchen?”

The disbelief in your voice is clear, though a small smile tugs at your lips. The idea of him, the polished and ever-confident Satoru, navigating the chaos of a kitchen is almost too absurd to imagine.

He laughs, a rich sound that fills the room, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Hey, I can follow directions,” he protests, his grin broadening. “Just tell me what to do.”

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

“We’ll see about that,” you quip, though there’s a part of you that’s curious—maybe even hopeful—that he might actually surprise you.

Before you can say more, Haru claps her hands together excitedly, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Mama cooking! Yay!” she exclaims, bouncing in her highchair.

You laugh softly, ruffling her hair with affection.

“Yes, mama’s cooking tonight,” you confirm, the warmth in your voice mirroring the smile on your face.

Satoru watches the exchange with a softening gaze, a rare moment of quiet sincerity passing over his features. But then, with a stretch that seems to shake off the sentiment, he stands up, rolling his shoulders back.

“In the meantime,” he says, tone shifting back to business, “we should probably get ready to head to the office. There’s a lot we need to cover.”

ꨄ︎

As the car pulls up to the grand entrance of Gojo Corporation, you take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

It feels as though an eternity has passed since you last walked through those imposing doors, yet as you gaze up at the sleek, formidable building, a wave of familiarity washes over you, making it seem as if nothing has changed.

The towering glass structure looms above, its mirrored surface catching the early morning sun and casting a dazzling array of shimmering light that dances across the pavement. The reflections create an almost ethereal glow around the building.

As the sleek glass doors of Gojo Corporation glide open with a quiet whoosh, you and Satoru step through together, hand in hand.

The lobby unfolds before you, just as you remembered—spacious, modern, and a testament to impeccable design.

Polished marble floors stretch out beneath your feet, gleaming like a mirror under the bright, strategically placed lights. The air is filled with a soft, steady hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional click of heels against the floor.

Familiar faces turn towards you, their polite smiles masking the flickers of curiosity and speculation that dance in their eyes. You can feel the weight of their gazes, each glance a blend of respect tinged with a subtle undercurrent of skepticism.

The whispers are almost tangible, a low murmur that follows you as you move further into the lobby, their eyes tracking your every step.

Your hand instinctively tightens around Satoru’s, seeking reassurance in his steady presence. Satoru’s grip is firm yet comforting, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand in a silent gesture of support.

He leads you further into the lobby, his posture exuding confidence and ease, as if he’s entirely unbothered by the attention.

Each of your footsteps against the polished floor brings a flood of memories to you. There’s a palpable sense of nostalgia, a bittersweet longing for the simplicity and familiarity of your old workspace.

But everything has changed, hasn’t it?

Now, you’re his wife—at least, that’s the role you must play.

The weight of that title hangs heavy on your shoulders, transforming the once-familiar surroundings into a stage where every glance, every whisper carries a different meaning.

And Satoru—he has changed too.

The carefree son of the CEO you once knew has evolved into a leader in his own right. The transformation is subtle yet profound, etched in the way he carries himself, the way he interacts with the staff, and the way he commands respect without demanding it.

You can see the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, a mantle he has taken up with a quiet determination.

As you approach the elevators, Satoru’s hand slips from yours, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin as he reaches out to press the button.

The elevator doors slide open with a quiet, mechanical whisper, revealing the sleek, mirrored interior. You both step inside, the soft hum of the elevator filling the space with a steady, soothing rhythm.

Satoru glances at you, his eyes catching the soft light reflecting off the polished walls. There’s a small, reassuring smile on his lips, one that carries a hint of warmth and something deeper—perhaps a silent promise that everything will be alright.

“So,” he begins, his voice casual, though you can sense the underlying focus in his tone, “today we have a meeting regarding a potential corporate merger with Mei-Mei's company.”

“Mei-Mei… I remember her,” you say, your brow furrowing slightly as you search your memory. “Isn't she from that high-end tech company?”

Satoru nods and leans casually against the elevator wall, his posture relaxed but his mind clearly working.

“That’s right,” he confirms, his voice steady and assured. “She’s quite influential in her field, a key player in the tech industry. This merger could be a significant step for us, opening doors to new technologies and markets.”

As his words sink in, you feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. You swallow hard, trying to push down the unease that’s bubbling up inside you.

“Alright. What’s our approach for the meeting?”

Satoru’s eyes meet yours, his gaze steady and reassuring. There’s a quiet confidence in his expression, a belief in your abilities that helps to steady your nerves.

“We’ll present our strengths,” he explains. “We’ll show them what we can bring to the table, the value we offer. Your insights will be invaluable, so don’t hesitate to speak up. Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”

You nod, drawing in a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your chest.

“Got it,” you reply, your voice more resolute now, bolstered by his confidence in you.

The elevator dings softly, and the doors glide open to reveal the executive floor, a space imbued with quiet power and understated elegance.

Satoru walks ahead, his stride confident and purposeful, and you follow closely, drawing strength from his unwavering presence.

As you enter the conference room, your eyes immediately land on Mei-Mei, already seated at the expansive table. She’s impeccably dressed, exuding an air of effortless elegance and control.

The moment she spots Satoru, her eyes light up with a warmth that feels just a bit too personal. A slow, sultry smile spreads across her lips as she rises gracefully from her chair.

“Satoru, darling,” she purrs, her voice smooth and honeyed as she glides toward him with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what she wants. “It’s been far too long.”

Seeing her in person brings a rush of memories, sharp and unbidden—the sound of her voice, the way she says his name...

Mei-Mei isn’t just any business associate— she’s the woman who was once poised to step into the very role you now occupy.

Satoru’s father had been persistent he consider her for marriage, a match that had been pushed on him relentlessly.

The realization sharpens your senses, and as Mei-Mei continues to hold Satoru’s gaze with practiced ease, you steel yourself, determined not to let old rivalries or lingering doubts shake your confidence.

Satoru smiles politely, his expression composed and unreadable as he extends a hand to her.

“Mei-Mei,” he greets her, his tone smooth and diplomatic. “Always a pleasure.”

Mei-Mei’s eyes flicker with satisfaction as she accepts his hand, her touch light and fleeting, like a whisper of silk.

Her gaze shifts to you as she releases his hand, a spark of curiosity mingling with something more calculated behind her eyes.

“And who might this be?” she inquires, her voice carrying a subtle edge, as if she’s already assessing your worth.

“This is my wife, y/n” Satoru says smoothly, his hand finding yours. “She’ll be joining us for the meeting.”

Mei-Mei’s smile curves at the edges, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which narrow slightly as she studies you more closely.

“Of course,” she says, her tone dripping with courtesy that feels just a shade too polished. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

She pauses, her gaze sharpening with a hint of challenge.

“I must say, I haven’t heard of you before. What family do you come from?”

A twinge of discomfort ripples through you, a reminder of the stark difference in backgrounds. You swallow slightly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I... I don’t come from a well-known family,” you admit, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I’ve worked with Satoru at Gojo Corporation for the past year.”

Mei-Mei’s smile shifts, the corners of her lips lifting just a fraction, but there’s a condescending glint in her eyes now.

“Oh, I see,” she replies, her voice laced with a faint, dismissive amusement. “How quaint.”

You force a smile, though it feels tight on your lips, refusing to let her patronizing attitude get under your skin.

As you move to take your seat at the table, you watch as she leans in closer to Satoru, her fingers grazing his arm in a gesture that seems almost too casual, too familiar.

“I must say, Satoru,” Mei-Mei purrs, her voice smooth and saccharine, like honey with a hint of venom, “you’ve been doing an impressive job with the company. Your father would be proud.”

Satoru nods, keeping his tone professional.

“Thank you, Mei-Mei. We’ve made some significant strides, and I’m optimistic about the potential this merger holds for both of our companies.”

“Of course, Satoru. I’m sure we can work out something that benefits both parties. After all,” she adds, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing smile, “we’ve always made a great team, haven’t we?”

Determined to assert your own presence, you clear your throat softly and lean forward, your gaze steady and unyielding.

“I’m looking forward to seeing how our strengths can complement each other,” you interject smoothly. “There’s a lot we can achieve together.”

Mei-Mei’s eyes flicker to you. She offers a tight smile, the warmth in her expression barely masking the sharpness beneath.

“Indeed,” she concedes, her tone now laced with a hint of challenge. “Let’s make this a success, shall we?”

The meeting begins, and you do your best to focus on the discussion, but Mei-Mei’s constant flirtation with Satoru gnaws at your nerves like a persistent thorn.

You can feel the tension building within you, your hands clenched tightly in your lap as you force yourself to remain composed, every muscle in your body taut with restraint.

Mei-Mei finds every opportunity to brush her fingers against Satoru’s arm, her touch lingering just a second too long. Her laughter rings out, a bit too loud and a touch too sweet, echoing off the walls of the conference room.

Every compliment she directs at Satoru is overly effusive, dripping with a familiarity that sets your teeth on edge.

Satoru, to his credit, remains the picture of professionalism.

His responses are polite but distant, a carefully maintained detachment that you admire even as it does little to quell the irritation bubbling inside you. He’s skilled at sidestepping her advances with an almost practiced ease, deflecting her attempts to draw him into her web of flirtation.

But despite his composed demeanor, each of Mei-Mei’s calculated gestures feels like a test—a deliberate provocation meant to unsettle you, to remind you of the history that lingers between them.

The subtle, unspoken challenge in her eyes whenever she glances your way only fuels the fire simmering within you.

“So, Satoru,” Mei-Mei says, leaning closer to him, “about the merger terms, I believe we should consider revising the profit-sharing ratio. It would be beneficial for both parties.”

Her tone is persuasive, almost coaxing, as she tilts her head slightly, letting her hair fall in a way that draws attention to the graceful curve of her neck.

But before Satoru can respond, you lean forward, your voice calm yet firm, cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Actually, if you look at the numbers, the current ratio is fair and balanced, ensuring both companies benefit equally from this partnership.”

For a split second, annoyance flashes in Mei-Mei’s eyes, a subtle tightening at the corners of her mouth betraying her irritation. But she quickly masks it with a polished smile, her expression smoothing over as if the moment of discord never happened.

“I see,” she replies, her voice still honeyed but with a slight edge. “Well, perhaps we can discuss this further in detail later.”

Satoru, ever the diplomat, nods in agreement, his tone steady and measured.

“We can certainly revisit that point,” he says, his gaze shifting between you and Mei-Mei, acknowledging both perspectives. “But for now, let’s proceed with the agenda.”

As the conversation continues, Mei-Mei’s relentless flirtations with Satoru are becoming more and more unbearable.

Each coy glance she throws Satoru’s way chips away at your composure, and you find it harder and harder to maintain the calm facade you’ve been desperately clinging to.

Just when you think you can’t endure it any longer, Satoru glances at his watch and suggests,

“Let’s take a short break. We’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes.”

The words are like a lifeline tossed to a drowning person.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you mutter, barely managing to keep the tremor out of your voice as you slip out of the room.

The moment you’re out of sight, you quicken your pace, your footsteps echoing in the hallway as you make a beeline for the supply room. The small, confined space offers a momentary refuge from the oppressive atmosphere of the conference room.

As you close the door behind you, the faint scent of paper and office supplies envelops you, oddly comforting in its familiarity, like a reminder of simpler times.

You start to rummage through the supplies, your hands moving automatically as you try to distract yourself from the image of Mei-Mei’s hands brushing against Satoru’s arm, her laughter echoing in your ears.

The memory plays on a loop in your mind, fueling the frustration that bubbles just beneath the surface.

You grab a few items—a stack of sticky notes, a box of paperclips—and begin organizing them on the shelf, your movements precise, almost mechanical.

Moments later, the door creaks open, and you look up to see Satoru standing in the doorway, a nostalgic smile on his face.

“Doesn’t look like you’re taking much of a break.”

“I guess old habits die hard,” your voice clipped, betraying the frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

“Seeing you in here brings back memories,” he continues, stepping further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the shelves as if he, too, is remembering the countless times you’d both found yourselves in this very spot, buried in work and conversation.

The familiarity of it should be comforting, but today, it only amplifies the growing disarray you feel inside. You huff, shaking your head in exasperation.

“Since I’ve been gone, it’s obvious someone isn’t doing the supply order right,” you gesture sharply to the cluttered shelves. “Everything’s out of place.”

He chuckles softly, closing the distance between you with a few steps.

“You always were meticulous about these things. Guess no one can do it quite like you.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you turn back to the shelves.

“This whole day has been a mess,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him, the words escaping in a rush of pent-up emotion.

Each item you straighten feels like an attempt to impose order on something far more chaotic than these shelves—a futile effort to regain control in a situation that seems increasingly out of your grasp.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against a shelf, his posture relaxed but his eyes attentive.

“Really? I thought things were going well,” he remarks, a hint of confusion in his voice.

You turn to face him, your frustration bubbling over, no longer containable.

“Well, they’re not,” you snap, the sharpness in your voice surprising even yourself. “This merger? It’s a terrible idea. It’s obvious Mei-Mei is just trying to squeeze as much revenue out of this deal as possible, and you’re letting her.”

Satoru’s teasing expression falters, replaced by one of seriousness. He uncrosses his arms, his posture shifting as he takes a step closer, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that wasn’t there before.

“What makes you say that?”

You cross your arms defensively, glaring at him.

“The terms she’s proposing are ridiculous. She’s pushing for more than her company deserves.”

“Why didn’t you say something during the meeting?” he counters, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion.

You throw your hands up in exasperation, your emotions spilling over.

“How could I?” you quip, the words escaping in a rush. “Mei-Mei was too busy batting her eyelashes and finding any excuse to touch you. Every time I tried to speak, she’d cut me off or distract you with some flirtatious nonsense.”

Satoru’s eyebrow arches, and for a moment, a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Are you jealous?”

Your cheeks flush involuntarily, and you turn back to the shelves, grabbing a stack of papers and slamming them down with more force than necessary.

“Of course not,” you retort, your voice tinged with frustration. “It’s just... unprofessional.”

He doesn’t back down, the smirk still playing on his lips as he steps closer, closing the distance between you until he’s right in front of you.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” he murmurs, his tone playful, almost affectionate.

That’s the last straw.

Your patience, already worn thin, finally snaps.

“You know what? It's hard enough trying to fit into this world without someone like her treating me like I don’t belong!”

You shove the papers aside, the sound of them scattering across the table punctuating your words, and start to walk past him, needing to escape the confined space.

Satoru’s smirk vanishes as he realizes the depth of your frustration. He grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, and pulls you back to him. His grip is firm but gentle, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice sincere. “I didn’t realize how much this was bothering you.”

You look up at him, your vision blurring slightly as tears threaten to spill over. The vulnerability you’ve been trying to hold back finally breaks through, and the words tumble out before you can stop them.

“It’s just... it’s not easy being here, Satoru,” you confess, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “I feel out of place, like I don’t belong and I’m constantly being judged. It’s like everyone’s waiting for me to fail.”

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze softening as he studies your face, reading the depth of your distress.

“This isn’t just about Mei-Mei, is it?” he asks gently. “Does this have anything to do with that guy at the gala last night? The one that was overly familiar with you at the bar?”

You blink in surprise, taken aback by his perceptiveness.

“What? No, this is different,” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation.

“Is it?” he presses gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your back of your hand. “Because I saw how he looked at you. And how uncomfortable you seemed.”

You shake your head, a mixture of frustration and exasperation bubbling to the surface.

“Naoya was just being his usual self, trying to provoke me,” you say dismissively.

“Naoya, huh?” Satoru’s voice hardens slightly, his expression darkening at the mention of the name. “He didn’t just try to provoke you. He was trying to undermine you in front of everyone. Who is that guy to you?”

The intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat, and you can see that Satoru isn’t just curious—he’s genuinely concerned, and more than a little angry.

The protective edge in his voice tells you that he’s not going to let this go easily, and you realize that he’s picking up on more than you’d like to admit.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you weigh your words carefully.

“He’s... he’s Haru’s father,” you finally admit, the words leaving your lips in a hesitant whisper.

Satoru’s eyes widen in shock, the sudden revelation hitting him like a physical blow.

“What? Haru’s father? Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s a sharpness in his tone now, not out of anger, but out of the raw emotion of being blindsided by something so significant.

You drop your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, the weight of your past suddenly feeling like too much to bear.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my past,” you say quietly, your voice thick with regret.

For a moment, there’s silence, thick and heavy between you, and you can feel the tension radiating off him.

But then, gently, he lifts your chin with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. His touch is tender, his expression softening as he looks into your eyes, searching for the truth in them.

“You’re not a burden,” he says firmly, his voice steady, leaving no room for doubt. “And Haru is part of your life. That means she’s part of mine now too.”

You hesitate, the weight of his words settling over you as you struggle to find the right response.

“Satoru, I... I just didn’t know how to bring it up,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly with the vulnerability of the confession. “I didn’t want to complicate things. It’s just… I feel like I’m constantly being tested, like I have to prove myself over and over again.”

The words spill out in a rush, the pent-up emotions you’ve been holding back finally breaking free.

He sighs softly, his expression softening as he reaches out, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he says, his voice gentle, but there’s an underlying seriousness in his tone. “But we can’t have any more secrets between us during this arrangement. If we’re going to make this work, we need to be honest with each other.”

The sincerity in his eyes, the warmth in his touch—it all combines to create a sense of safety, a reassurance that you’re not alone in this, even if this is just a charade, it’s the comfort you desperately need.

Tears well up in your eyes again, threatening to spill out as your emotions overwhelm you. You nod, swallowing hard to keep your voice steady.

“I understand,” you whisper, “no more secrets.”

Without a word, Satoru pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms encircling you with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.

He holds you close, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm against your ear. “You do belong, y/n. And I’m not going to let anyone—Mei-Mei, Naoya, or anyone else—make you feel otherwise.”

As he speaks, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, and for a moment, you simply melt into his embrace, letting the warmth and security he provides wash over you.

Your heart races as his hand slowly moves up, fingers gently threading through your hair, his touch so tender it makes your breath hitch. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his breath warm against your ear, grounding you in this shared moment of vulnerability.

But then, you pull back slightly, looking up at him, and it’s only then that you truly realize how close you are.

Your faces are mere inches apart, and the intensity in his gaze is almost overwhelming, drawing your attention to the way his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening as you feel the magnetic pull between you, the tension thick in the air.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, anticipation building as his lips draw nearer.

But just before they brush against yours, a sliver of doubt crosses your mind—the reality of the situation, reminding you of where you are, and what you are to each other.

You pull back slightly, your voice barely a whisper.

“We should probably head back to the meeting.”

Though you say the words, your voice lacks conviction, betraying your true feelings.

Satoru’s eyes search yours for a moment longer, his forehead resting gently against yours as he takes a deep breath, the sound filled with a mix of reluctance and understanding.

He slowly pulls back, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“Yeah, we should,” he agrees softly, though his tone carries the weight of unspoken emotions.

His hand slips from your cheek, the absence of his touch leaving you feeling a bit colder.

“Let’s get back to it.”

ꨄ︎

As you re-enter the conference room, Mei-Mei is already seated, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently on the table.

She looks up as you and Satoru take your seats, a sly, knowing smile playing on her lips.

“Ah, there you are,” she says, her tone dripping with faux sweetness, the honeyed edge barely masking the underlying condescension. “Shall we continue?”

Satoru clears his throat, his expression carefully neutral as he regains his composure. There’s a subtle shift in his demeanor, a steely resolve that wasn’t there before.

“Right, let’s continue where we left off.”

Mei-Mei’s smile deepens, saccharine sweet and just as poisonous, as she resumes her position with an air of unshakable confidence.

She leans forward slightly, her fingers stilling as she clasps her hands together, a picture of poised professionalism.

“Of course,” she purrs. “Now, as I was saying, the merger terms we’re proposing are quite favorable, especially considering the current market conditions. I’m confident that with a little cooperation, we can reach a mutually beneficial agreement. Perhaps we can revisit the profit-sharing ratio?”

Her words are delivered with the precision of someone who’s used to getting her way, but you can feel the subtle shift in her gaze as it flickers toward you, her eyes cold and calculating.

You glance at Satoru, seeking the silent reassurance that only he can offer in this moment.

He meets your gaze and gives you a subtle nod, the unspoken signal you’ve been waiting for. Your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline surging as you realize that this is your moment.

It’s now or never.

Summoning every ounce of courage within you, you rise from your seat, your voice steady and clear as it cuts through the tension in the room.

“Actually, we’ve reconsidered,” you begin, each word carefully measured. “After reviewing the terms, we’ve decided that moving forward with this merger is not in the best interest of Gojo Corporation.”

Mei-Mei’s eyes widen in surprise, her carefully crafted facade slipping for just a fraction of a second. The shock in her expression is almost imperceptible, but you catch it, the brief crack in her confidence before she quickly regains her composure.

“Excuse me?” she demands, her voice sharp with incredulity. “Are you saying you’re rejecting our proposal?”

You meet her gaze unflinchingly, standing firm with a resolve that surprises even you.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” you reply, your voice steady and unyielding. “The terms you’re proposing are not equitable, and it’s clear that your company stands to gain disproportionately from this deal. We’re not interested in a partnership that doesn’t offer balanced benefits.”

Mei-Mei’s smile tightens, the corners of her lips pulling into a strained curve as she processes your words. Her composure is slipping, the veneer of control cracking as she realizes she’s losing her grip on the situation.

Desperation flickers in her eyes as she glances toward Satoru, clearly hoping to find an ally in him.

“Satoru,” her tone laced with forced sweetness, “surely we can discuss this further—”

“I trust my wife’s judgment completely,” Satoru leans back in his chair with a calm confidence, a proud smile playing on his lips as he watches you take control of the situation. “If she says the deal isn’t right for us, then we won’t proceed.”

The finality in his tone leaves no room for negotiation and the impact of his words is immediate.

Mei-Mei’s expression falters, the last traces of her confident facade slipping away as frustration and disbelief flicker in her eyes. She forces a tight smile, nodding curtly, her eyes hardening.

“I see. Well, it’s your loss. Our offer was quite generous.”

You hold her gaze, unflinching.

“We’ll find another opportunity that aligns better with our goals. Thank you for your time.”

Mei-Mei’s eyes narrow slightly, but she says nothing more. Instead, she gathers her things with an icy precision, each movement deliberate as she rises from her seat.

The tension in the room is palpable as she turns on her heel and strides toward the door, her demeanor frosty, the sting of defeat evident in her rigid posture. The door closes behind her with a soft click, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the tension slowly melting away as a surge of relief and empowerment floods through you.

The adrenaline rush of standing your ground leaves you feeling both exhilarated and slightly shaky, but there’s also a newfound confidence simmering beneath the surface—a realization that you’re more than capable of handling whatever comes your way.

Satoru turns to you, his smile widening with pride as he meets your gaze.

“You handled that perfectly,” the warmth in his voice is like a reassuring embrace.

You return his smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over you.

“Thanks. I guess I just needed to find my voice.”

And find it you did.

ꨄ︎

As the sun begins to set, it casts a warm, golden glow through the expansive windows of the Gojo residence kitchen.

The light dances across the sleek, modern space, highlighting the clean lines of stainless-steel appliances and the smooth, cool surface of marble countertops.

You stand at the kitchen island, surrounded by a colorful array of ingredients—vibrant tomatoes, fragrant basil, and glistening cuts of meat, each carefully selected for the evening’s meal.

Satoru walks in, rolling up his sleeves with a playful grin lighting up his face.

“So, Chef,” he says with a teasing lilt in his voice, leaning casually against the counter as he takes in the scene before him. His blue eyes sparkle with excitement, “What’s on the menu tonight?”

You glance up from the cutting board, catching his gaze.

There’s a lightness in his demeanor, a boyish enthusiasm that makes you smile in return. The way he looks at you—like you’re the most interesting part of his day—sends a flutter of warmth through your chest.

“Nothing fancy. Just some homemade pasta and a simple salad. I hope that’s okay with you, Mr. Gourmet.”

“Sounds perfect,” he grins, moving to your side, ready to help. “What can I do?”

You hand him a cutting board and a knife, pointing to a colorful pile of vegetables waiting to be prepped.

“You can start by chopping these for the salad.”

He takes the knife, looking at it a bit awkwardly and glances at you with a sheepish grin.

“Alright, let’s see if I remember how to do this without losing a finger.”

You can’t help but watch with amusement as he makes a few tentative cuts, each slice uneven and clumsy. It’s clear he’s out of practice—or perhaps he never had much to begin with.

The sight of him, usually so confident, struggling with something so simple brings a smile to your face.

“Here, let me show you,” you say, moving to stand beside him.

Sliding closer, you place your hand over his on the knife handle, your touch gentle yet firm.

“You want to keep your fingers tucked in like this,” you instruct, demonstrating with your own hand, ensuring his fingers are safely out of the knife’s path. “And use a rocking motion with the knife, letting the blade do the work.”

You move his hand with yours, the rhythm of the knife creating a soothing pattern.

Satoru watches you intently, the proximity making your heart race. The warmth of his hand beneath yours sends a shiver up your spine.

As you continue to guide him, your hands move together in sync, and you can’t help but notice the way his focus shifts from the vegetables to you, his blue eyes flickering with something deeper than just concentration.

“Got it,” he murmurs softly.

You continue to guide his hand, feeling the rhythm of the chopping become smoother.

“Like this?”

“Exactly,” you reply, meeting his gaze, your heart fluttering at the intensity in his eyes. “See? It’s not so hard once you get the hang of it.”

He chuckles, and his eyes remain locked on yours, a playful spark mingling with the more serious undercurrent in his expression.

“Not hard at all, especially with such a good teacher.”

The moment lingers, the air between you charged with a newfound intimacy. Reluctantly, you step back, breaking the spell as you release your hold on the knife.

“I think you’ve got it from here.”

Satoru nods, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he returns to the vegetables with a newfound determination.

There is a new awareness in the way he handles the knife, as if he’s carrying forward the memory of your touch.

The two of you work in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of garlic in the pan.

It feels oddly domestic, a far cry from the high-stakes world of corporate mergers and charity galas.

The simplicity of this moment, shared in the soft light of the kitchen, is a refreshing contrast to the complexities of your usual lives.

“You know, I never imagined I’d be doing something like this,” Satoru admits after a while, his voice breaking the silence. “But I’m glad I am.”

You glance over at him, catching the sincerity in his eyes, and you can’t help but smile.

“Cooking is kind of therapeutic for me, you know,” you say, your voice thoughtful as you turn your attention back to the task at hand. “It helps me clear my mind, and it’s something I can control, unlike so many other things in life.”

Satoru watches you for a moment, his expression softening as he absorbs your words. There’s a quiet admiration in his gaze, one that you can feel even without looking at him.

“You know, I gotta say, you’re really good at this.”

“Hm? Cooking?” you ask, glancing up at him with a curious tilt of your head.

“No,” his voice softens. “Balancing everything. Being a mother, dealing with me, and now standing up in that meeting. You’re incredible.”

His words catch you off guard, the sincerity in his tone wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.

Your cheeks flush at the unexpected compliment, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the heat of the stove.

For a moment, you’re at a loss for words, the gravity of his praise settling in. You turn your attention back to the stove, stirring the sauce with a renewed focus, using the task to steady yourself.

“Thanks, Satoru,” you finally manage. “That means a lot.”

As you continue to cook, the tension of the day begins to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm that settles over you like a warm blanket.

The kitchen fills with the rich, mouthwatering aroma of simmering tomatoes, fresh basil, and garlic, the scents mingling together to create an atmosphere that feels both comforting and intimate.

Satoru moves beside you with surprising grace, each motion purposeful and smooth, belying his earlier claims of inexperience.

You find yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the toned muscles of his forearms as he works.

There’s a quiet concentration in his expression, a focus that draws you in, making it impossible not to notice the way he’s completely absorbed in the task at hand.

“Looks like you’re a natural.”

Your words earn you a grin, his usual playfulness shining through.

“Don’t jinx it,” he warns, making a particularly precise cut with the knife, his movements confident and sure.

You laugh, the sound light and carefree as you turn back to the sauce simmering on the stove.

“I think it’s time to taste this,” you say, stirring the rich, fragrant mixture with a wooden spoon. “Want to give it a try?”

Satoru nods, stepping closer, the space between you narrowing as he joins you at the stove.

You scoop a bit of the sauce onto a spoon, blowing on it gently to cool it down before lifting it to your lips for a taste. The rich, tangy flavors explode on your tongue, the perfect balance of sweetness and acidity.

“Mmm, I think it’s almost perfect,” you murmur, savoring the taste, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you let the flavors linger.

“Almost?” he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of challenge.

You smile, opening your eyes to find his gaze fixed on you, the intensity in his blue eyes sending a shiver down your spine.

“Here, taste,” you say, holding the spoon up to his lips, your hand steady.

He leans in, his movements slow and deliberate, every inch closer making your heart beat a little faster. His eyes remain locked on yours with an unspoken intensity, and as his lips close around the spoon, you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for his reaction.

There’s a brief pause as he savors the sauce, his expression thoughtful.

“Wow, that’s delicious,” his voice low and sincere.

Just as you’re about to smile in response, you feel a light touch on your lip. Before you can react, Satoru reaches out, his thumb gently swiping at the corner of your mouth where a bit of sauce had lingered.

The unexpected contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath catching in your throat.

Without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his own lips, tasting the sauce with a playful smirk that leaves you momentarily speechless.

“Now that’s perfect.”

The simple gesture, so intimate and unassuming, leaves you flustered, warmth spreading through your cheeks.

The kitchen seemed to grow smaller and the air thicker.

You quickly turn your attention back to stirring the pasta, desperately trying to steady your racing heart and regain your composure as you move the spoon in slow, deliberate circles.

“You always know how to make things interesting,” you manage to say, your voice betraying the flutter of nerves that Satoru has stirred up.

He chuckles softly, a sound that vibrates through the small space between you, and you feel him step closer until his chest is nearly brushing against your back.

The warmth of his presence wraps around you, cocooning you in a sense of comfort and something more—something electric.

“I could say the same about you,” his breath warm against your ear.

You turn slightly, your breath catching as you realize just how close he is. His blue eyes, so focused and intense, lock onto yours, and the world seems to narrow to just the two of you.

Satoru leans in, his voice dropping to a soft murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You have a way of making everything more exciting, y/n.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry as your eyes flicker to his lips and then back to his eyes.

The pull between you is magnetic, undeniable, and you struggle to maintain your composure.

“Maybe it’s just because you’re so easily entertained,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to diffuse the intensity of the moment with a hint of playfulness.

He grins, the expression sending your heart into a wild flutter.

Slowly, his hand moves to rest on the counter beside you, effectively trapping you in place. The gesture is subtle yet commanding, his body language exuding a quiet confidence that leaves you feeling both exhilarated and breathless.

“Or maybe it’s because you’re just that captivating,” he counters, his voice a hushed rumble that sends another wave of warmth through you.

“Okaaay, Mr. Smooth Talker,” you manage to say, your voice tinged with nervous laughter as you attempt to regain some semblance of control. “How about you help me with the garlic bread?”

The suggestion is your lifeline, a way to shift the focus and calm your racing heart before you’re completely lost in the moment.

Satoru’s grin widens, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“Whatever you need, Chef,” he replies, his tone lightening as he pushes away from the counter and moves to the other side of the kitchen.

The distance between you offers a brief reprieve, allowing you to steady your breathing and refocus on the task at hand.

Get it together—this isn’t real.

ꨄ︎

The table is set with a simple elegance that mirrors the meal you’ve prepared—fresh pasta topped with a rich, fragrant tomato sauce, golden garlic bread still warm from the oven, and a crisp, colorful salad that adds a splash of vibrancy to the setting.

Haru, already seated with her eyes wide in anticipation, swings her little legs under the table, her excitement palpable.

“Mama, pasta!” she exclaims, her voice filled with childlike wonder.

Her gaze flickers from the steaming plates to the basket of garlic bread, her small hands already reaching for a slice as if she can hardly wait another moment.

Satoru chuckles as he takes his seat beside her, his smile widening at the sight of her enthusiasm.

“Patience, Haru,” he teases, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Let’s wait for your mama to sit down.”

You join them at the table, a soft smile playing on your lips as you take in the scene.

Carefully, you begin to serve the plates, starting with Haru. You scoop a generous portion of pasta onto her plate, the rich tomato sauce clinging perfectly to the tender strands.

“There you go, sweetie,” you say with a smile, placing the plate in front of her. “But remember, eat slowly, okay? We have all the time in the world.”

Haru nods eagerly, though you can tell she’s barely restraining herself. Her little fingers curl around her fork, her eyes never leaving the plate as she prepares to dive in.

Next, you turn to Satoru, serving him a plate with equal care.

The pasta glistens under the soft light, the aroma of garlic and herbs wafting up as you set it before him.

As you place the plate down, his eyes meet yours, and in that brief moment, there’s a silent exchange—one of gratitude, warmth, and something deeper, something unspoken but understood.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

You nod in response, your heart warming at the connection between you, simple yet profound.

Meanwhile, Haru’s eyes widen even further as she finally takes her first bite.

The flavors burst in her mouth, her little face lighting up with pure delight. She chews enthusiastically, her expression one of sheer happiness, and you can’t help but smile at her reaction.

“Yummy!” she declares, her mouth full as she grins up at you.

Her words are filled with such genuine enthusiasm and innocence that it makes your heart swell with pride.

Satoru watches Haru with a fond smile before he too takes a bite of the meal you’ve lovingly prepared.

His expression shifts almost immediately to one of pleasant surprise, his eyes widening slightly as the flavors settle on his palate. He chews thoughtfully, savoring the blend of fresh ingredients and the care that went into the preparation.

“She’s right. This is amazing, you really outdid yourself.”

A smile spreads across your face, a warmth blooming in your chest at their praise.

It’s a simple meal, nothing extravagant, but the way they’re enjoying it makes it feel like the most special dinner in the world.

“I’m glad you both like it. It’s nice to be able to cook for you.”

As you begin to eat, the room fills with the sounds of contentment—Haru’s happy chatter as she dives into her meal, Satoru’s occasional hum of approval as he tastes each dish, and the gentle clinking of cutlery against plates.

The meal continues and the three of you fall into an easy rhythm, the conversation flowing naturally.

Haru tells stories about her day, her voice animated as she shares every little detail. Satoru listens attentively, his focus on her unwavering, his smile growing with each of her excited exclamations.

At one point, Haru insists on feeding Satoru a bite of her pasta, her giggles bubbling up like a stream as she carefully maneuvers the fork towards his mouth.

Satoru, ever the playful one, exaggerates the motion, opening his mouth wide and making a show of how delicious the bite is. He rolls his eyes in mock ecstasy, his exaggerated reaction sending Haru into a fit of laughter that rings out like the purest music.

The way Satoru looks at Haru, with such genuine affection and warmth, causes a tightness in your chest—a beautiful, almost overwhelming sensation that swells within you.

His eyes are soft, his smile unguarded, and in that moment, you can see just how much he cherishes these little interactions with her.

It’s a sight that tugs at your heartstrings, making you realize just how deeply he’s become entwined in both your lives.

Taking in this moment, you feel a deep sense of contentment, a quiet happiness that fills your heart to the brim.

This scene, so ordinary yet so special, feels like a moment you want to hold onto forever.

It is a culmination of everything you’ve been striving for—a sense of belonging, of family, of home.

Ah, but this isn’t real—just a charade.

Just as this warmth settles in your heart, a pang of bittersweetness follows.

Yet, despite knowing the truth, you can’t help but wish, just for a moment, that it could be.

Haru, now tired from all the excitement, leans against Satoru, her small head resting on his arm. Her eyelids grow heavy, her earlier energy now spent, and she begins to drift off, her breaths becoming slow and rhythmic.

Satoru glances at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch.

“You know,” he begins, his voice low and sincere, “I could get used to this. We should cook more often. Sharing meals like this... it’s nice.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a second, the line between reality and pretense blurs. You nod, but your mind races.

This is just a charade… right?

Yet, as you look into Satoru’s eyes, the warmth there makes you question everything. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of him that feels the same way you do—a longing for this to be more than just an act.

ꨄ︎

The late afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains of the Gojo mansion, casting a warm golden grown across the living room.

You sit on the couch as Haru plays on the floor, completely absorbed in her toys, her little hands guiding her dolls through an imagined world of adventure and make-believe.

Her soft giggles and murmured conversations with her toys bring a smile to your face, filling the room with a sense of peace and contentment.

Satoru had business to attend to, and before leaving, he made sure you had the rest of the day to spend with Haru.

It’s a rare and treasured opportunity, these quiet hours spent together, free from the demands of the outside world.

As you watch Haru, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for this time—this simple, unhurried togetherness that feels so rare in your often chaotic lives.

But then, the doorbell rings, cutting through the tranquility like a sharp knife.

You glance toward the door, your heart giving a slight, uneasy flutter.

Pushing aside the apprehension creeping into your chest, you rise from the couch, taking a steadying breath as you approach the door.

When you open it, you’re met with the sight of a stern-looking man in a crisp suit, his expression as unyielding as his posture.

There’s something about his demeanor that instantly puts you on edge. He’s holding an envelope in one hand, his grip firm, almost as if the paper holds some kind of weight beyond its physical presence.

“Mrs. Gojo?” he asks, his voice flat, businesslike.

The formal tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you nod cautiously, a sense of dread unfurling in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes, that’s me,” you reply, your voice a little more tentative than you’d like.

Without another word, he thrusts the envelope into your hands, his gaze unwavering as he says,

“You’ve been served.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and ominous. Your fingers tighten around the envelope as confusion and alarm spike within you.

“Served? For what?” you ask, your voice betraying the anxiety that’s quickly rising.

The man’s expression remains unchanged, impassive.

“Custody of Haru. Mr. Naoya Zenin is filing for full custody,” he states matter-of-factly, as if it’s just another routine task for him, another case on a long list.

The shock of his words hits you like a physical blow, your breath catching in your throat.

For a moment, you stand there frozen, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in as he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you standing in the doorway, the envelope clutched tightly in your hand.

This can’t be happening.

With trembling hands, you tear open the envelope, your eyes darting across the densely packed lines of legal jargon. Each word seems to blur into the next as your heart pounds furiously in your chest.

This is happening.

A cold wave of dread washes over you, settling deep in your bones as the reality of the situation begins to take hold.

Just a few feet away, Haru is still playing in the living room, her laughter and cheerful babble a stark contrast to the turmoil that’s unraveling in your mind.

She’s completely oblivious to the storm that’s brewing, her innocence a painful reminder of what’s at stake.

As you stand there, frozen in place, your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your daze.

You glance down at the screen, your stomach knotting as you see Naoya’s name flash across it. With a sense of dread, you unlock the phone and read the message.

Naoya Zenin: There, hopefully I finally have your attention. I suggest giving me a call if you want to avoid this all.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, a toxic mix of fear and anger bubbling up inside you.

Your hands shake uncontrollably as you stare at the message, the smugness practically oozing from each word.

You force yourself to take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume you.

With shaky fingers, you dial Naoya’s number. Each ring feels like an eternity, and when he finally answers, his voice is dripping with satisfaction.

“Y/n, I was wondering when you’d call,” he purrs, his tone as smooth as ever, but laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of smugness.

“What the hell is this, Naoya?” you demand, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. “You’re filing for full custody of Haru?”

There’s a pause, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he finally responds. He chuckles softly, the sound sending chills down your spine.

“I see you got my notice. Good. It’s time we discussed Haru’s future.”

The casual tone in his voice, as if this is just another business deal, ignites a fire within you. But before you can respond, he continues, his voice turning colder.

“I’m sending you an address. Meet me here tomorrow. Oh, and y/n.” his voice drops, becoming even more sinister, “I strongly suggest you don’t involve Satoru—unless you want this to become a nasty custody battle.”

His words hang in the air, a thinly veiled threat that tightens around your chest like a vice.

You stand there, phone in hand, the weight of his ultimatum pressing down on you.

The line goes dead.

strap in guys we are approaching some angst 🥺 oh if only reader knew how down bad satoru is for her 🥲 i actually really struggled with how i wanted this chapter to be structured, there are a lot of scenes i ended up writing that i opted to move to a later chapter because i just felt it was too rushed. the slow burn of this relationship is really important to me, so ultimately, i think it was for the best. would love to hear your thoughts! thanks for reading my fic 🫶🏻 → onto the next chapter ꨄ

taglist :

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer

@stevenknightmarc @maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@alwaysfreakingout @valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @evalynanne @tbzzluvr

@k1ttybean @yu22tas @sanriosatoru @ophelias-flowerss @spookysoowpprince

@luciledreamz @fortunatelyfurrygiver @meowforluv @arishaxml @zetianzz

@itzmeme @whodissbitj @kenmacantakemeaway @satoryaa

@kidd3ath @princessnai @zukowantshishonourback @afro-hispwriter @simbaaas-stuff

@Dilfmasky @veras-fanfic-reblogs @3zae-zae3 @Sugxryratz @inluvkai

@satowooo @ofcqdesi @sad-darksoul @dreamlessnight @mumblepingu

@mshitachin @fandomtrash5092

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strrykais · 4 months ago

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☆ lie with you (smau 📲, twitter and messages)(M)

you were nervous and that was an understatement. you actually couldn't believe that you were able to transfer into your dream school leaving behind your family, your home and your loving boyfriend. when you meet your upstairs neighbors things start to change for the better - or worse.

you tried everything to keep your distance from the boy that showed her the stars in the sky have nothing to the ones in his eyes. he knows it won't last and you know it too.

art-student!jisung x astrology-student-fem!reader

rating : (M) - mature

genre : humor, strangers to friends to lovers, college au, slow burn

warnings : profanity, sex jokes, death jokes, slight emotional cheating, mature content

notes : i do not believe in cheating and yes maybe emotional cheating is worse than physical cheating... but tens lie with you really inspired me to write this crazy story. it was a wattpad story but i think i wanted to try to make it a smau because they are so much fun :)

status : FINISHED

updates : N/A

taglist : closed

profiles (1) | profiles (2) | profiles (3)

1 - how i met your roomates 2 - 2 baddies 1 elevator 3 - self pleaser 4 - paint me like a french woman 5 - community smush 6 - smush in session 7 - not a date 📖 8 - no girls allowed 9 - jenos dumb ass stream 10 - so let's go see the stars 📖 11 - balls in my hands 12 - caught at midnight 📖 13 - they like each other 14 - ofc baby 15- under the bed 16 - the other woman 17 - i might kiss you 18 - upgraded to close friends 19 - hot girl winter 20 - sorry it slipped out 21 - room for one more 📖 22 - how do you feel about a throuple? 23 - like we just met

main masterlist

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rinnstars · 2 months ago

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(cherish) my love!

treasuring how youre always there for him

itoshi rin x reader: sugary-sweet fluff, slight insecurity on his part, rins pov, not proofread + likes n reblogs r appreciated! <3

maybe, he’s getting to used to this - your hands brushing through his hair as he lies on your chest humming to the rhythm of your heartbeat that syncs with him, his bed that no longer fits just him with a dent reminding him of your constant presence in his life as you constantly orbit around his world, his bag that changed from a plain black bag to one that featured silly keychains that hung your favourite character’s plushie and whatnot that matched perfectly with yours.

sure, he can barely remember the days you weren’t here, having being friends with him since you two were kids with you having been assigned as the so-called “good kid” to deal with him who was deemed the “troublemaker”. sitting with you during playtime felt natural, chatting about strange topics as you smile and laughed at his weird phrasings that soon transitioned to sitting right beside him again for years straight in school, and now right beside him on his bed - it must be fate he thinks. the world has dictated you to be with him for the rest of yours and his life, he thinks, the one good thing that has came out of this life. you were here when those kids at the playground shunned him and outcasted him for being a little (very) destructive to their toys choosing to sit down and chat with him at the swings, you were there in his room during that winter where he could barely look at you through his swollen and red eyes as you visit him everyday without fail despite the heavy snow that flooded his windows, you were there when he lost to isagi in that match as tears streamed down that shined underneath the moonlight into the milk tea you bought him as you two walked back home slowly with yours and his playlist in the background that strangely calmed him. youre the only constant in his life, even more than his brother that he swore would be a permanent in his life with a naive pinkie promise, even more than his parents that seem to come home less and less as each competition passes by, even more than his teammates that whispers about him behind his back that he pretends to ignore as he leaves to meet you at the bus stop.

he doesn’t know what he would do if you one day leave - whether that is leaving japan to go overseas to study that he knows logically would be beneficial to you, whether that is by time and distance that people say is inevitable and unpreventable, or worst simply because you fell out of love with him. hes selfish, but not stupid - he knows hes not exactly the best boyfriend, sometimes he gets too engrossed in his passion and loses touch with reality and neglect you even with your head on his shoulder, he knows hes not exactly the best at expressing himself even despite you being here since the very beginning, and he knows you can do better than him.

but for now, he thinks he’ll treasure every sign of presence of you. he’ll keep those silly trinkets you pass to him, each a sign of love that he cherishes no matter how small - paper hearts and rings you fold right next to him during class whenever you get bored of listening as he sits beside you playing another game underneath his desk, keychains you and him get from claw machines or as rewards from the arcade that he puts in a special little box placed right on his table that is his real treasure, sweets that you introduced to him that got him addicted to the flavourful and sugary-sweet burst as he can’t help but bite into it every time that resemble the burst of butterflies in his stomach and burst in his heart whenever he sees you at the bus stop every morning. he’ll treasure every single non-physical sign of love too - playlist on spotify that he downloaded and play every day in his ear piece that he is practically addicted to, kisses that he can still feel the touch of your lips on his every morning that leaves a invisible mark on his lips and his heart, time you take out of your life to be with him, lunch with him in class rather than with your other friends, waiting for him to finish football practice that could have been used to sleep soundly in your room rather than the old seats in the school that leaves your back sore. he’ll memorise every single moment with you - your first kiss right at the bus stop you still meet at every morning at the place he religiously stands at as he waits for you to reach running as you “woke up late again”, every lunch break with you right beside him eating food you and him respectively brought from home from biscuits to packed bento boxes or just a sweet treat of sugary buttery bread respectively talking about everything and anything that he feels like his true self, every date no matter where: arcade as you two play game whilst he tries his best to impress, in his or your room just basking in your presence, at the playground with convenience store food, cafes that you somehow know, library as he stare at your focused face whilst studying as he resist the urge to kiss you again. and he’ll keep you in his heart for the rest of eternity - each bite and kiss on his neck and lips transfer right onto his secretly glass-like heart that yearns for a little more, each merging of hands that gets his heart pumping at how your hands fit perfectly with his like two puzzle piece matching, and each time your heart syncs with him as he listens to your heart whether in class or right in his room where no one else is here but you and him.

the future is uncertain - glancing at the suitcase that is still messy and open from his recent visit back home from blue lock with his pxg jersey right on you that fits you strangely well he thinks with bright red ears and cheeks, glancing at your changing self with different hair and glasses than the last time he saw you that he wished to experience with you, but he hopes no matter what, that necklace you share with him with a heart, no, his very own heart hanging right onto your neck will stay there forever.

and now, all he can do is to show you back the same dedication, to stay right beside you, to be yours until the end of time as you had always been. he’ll be your supporting figure in your life - staying right beside you until late in the library and walk you right back home, helping you carry groceries and your school bag as you go wherever, walk with you until the end of the earth if you simply asked him to without asking why. he’ll show it to the best he can - wearing and hanging every single gift you give him: keychains, silly bracelets, and every kiss that litters on him that leaves a purple blue mark. and he’ll tell it to you - through love letters in sticky notes or right on the school foolscap paper that reads the words hes too shy and afraid to say that translates his deep unspoken devotion and love to you, through compliments and i love yous that he promises doesn’t reveal the true extent of his feelings for you either seeming too shallow and superficial to underscore the grip you have on his heart and lungs, with his actions: dropping to his knees to tie your shoe lace, letting you do whatever to him from hair clips in his hair to painting his nails to piggy back rides he doesn’t want to admit sends him practically into cardiac arrest. he might not be perfect, far from it in his insecurity mind that creeps and bites away at every sweet moment, criticising his every move - but for you, he’ll keep trying as much as he does for football to be the only one for you. he’ll memorise every bit of you - your favourite food and orders at shops you frequent with him kept in the notes app in his phone that is underneath a layer of password, the exact shape and mould of your body that he melts his hand right into on afternoons like this where you’re within arms range as he embraces you, each and every of your small quirk - from the way your voice leaves your mouth so sweetly and perfectly as though youre carved and made y god himself, from the way you move that has him hypnotised, from the way you look at him that dries his mouth and practically sends him right into heaven. he’ll serve you as a knight would - carry all your things without hesitation as you two walk out of class on top of the strangely heavy school bag on his shoulder, shield you with an umbrella from the cold and harsh rain that leaves the other him completely drenched as you reach completely dry, hell, he’ll ride his bicycle. with you right beside him hugging him that practically could leave his nose bleeding.

he may not be the best boyfriend, but he’ll do whatever it takes to be the only one you’ll ever have - your name practically tattooed right inside his heart and brain with not a single spot for anyone else in his life that he built a wall sky high to protect his heart, the key to his world given right to you and several others just in case you lose it, and your face in his mind every single second on the field with only a wish to do it for you with every step and every kick that lands right into the goalpost. now that he knows what loneliness is like, the days in blue lock where he can only see you through photos you so kindly send him, he doesn’t ever want this to change no matter how selfish it is - he thinks he might simply die from heartbreak alone with you being his real heart compared to his biological one, he thinks he’ll practically be left a shell of his previous ambitious self practically wasting his life away in his room listening to that playlist as he lies right with his own blood pooling around him with his guts and organs strewn a haphazardly around him as though hes back on that field that winter, he’ll no longer be itoshi rin, anyone but his true self that he can be only with you.

but for now, he’ll bury his head right into your chest, your hands still ruffling with his hair, ignoring the thoughts in his mind in favour of your heartbeat that still syncs up with his, melting right into this moment.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #rin.<3 #old work ish ? but lowk imso mentally exhausted from irl LOL #IFSOK THO i got 5 drafts that r like half done always 😝😝#trust in my lovefor itoshi rin <3

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thestrawberrygirly · 10 months ago

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150 things to do when you're bored 🧸🍰🍓

make a journal and write down about your dreams.

try baking a cake.

draw sanrio characters.

learn choreo of the song 'war of hormones' by bts.

stream bts songs or your favorite band's songs.

clean your room.

play any cute mobile games like Purrfect Tale, Resonance of Ocean, Resortopia, Sumikkogurashi Farm, Rhythm Hive, HelloKittyWorld2 Sanrio Kawaii and more. (these are available on android)

plant some trees.

watch any ghibli studio movie.

declutter your phone.

watch some aesthetic japan vlogs.

read a book.

do some skincare.

make a playlist on spotify about the songs you would like to play if you owned a cute café.

write a book about your dream world.

do pilates.

try coquette aesthetic makeup.

start crocheting.

go for a bicycle ride.

have picnic with friends or alone.

watch youtube videos.

go stargazing.

try skateboarding.

go for a walk and observe the beautiful nature and then journal about it.

try cooking with your partner or friends

make a youtube channel.

start a side hustle.

start blogging.

read your favorite blogs.

listen a podcast.

write a song about your favorite person.

make music on bandlab.

write down goals you want to achieve.

learn new language.

re-organise your closet.

take a day off from social media.

take a nap.

organise your pinterest boards.

write a poem.

write a letter to yourself.

make a cute diy necklace.

invent a cute game to play with your friends.

learn to count in another language.

look through a cookbook and try something new.

water the plants.

pray.

try meditating for 5 minutes.

read my blogs :) <3

draw cute doodles.

make cute things out of air dry clay.

create cute diy stickers.

bake cookies in cute fun shapes.

build a blanket fort and read a book inside while eating snacks.

create a scrapbook of favorite memories.

paint rocks with colorful cute designs.

make cute bracelets for your bestfriend.

write a cute story about fairies.

make homemade popsicles with fruit juice.

watch the sunset or sunrise and take a moment to appreciate the beauty of nature.

go for a nature walk and collect interesting leaves or stones.

have a movie marathon with your favorite films.

have a fashion show with clothes from your closet.

design and decorate your own phone case.

create a memory jar filled with notes of happy moments.

design and paint your own ceramic plant pots.

learn about law of attraction.

do research about the history of something of your interest like 'how it was invented?', 'who started it?'.

create your own font.

play an old online game.

try a coloring app.

work on your wish list.

paint your nails.

take a bubble bath.

start a garden.

make your own short movie with your phone.

complete a puzzle.

write about the most beautiful dream you have ever saw.

organize your house.

make a smoothie.

put an appreciation message on a balloon and let it go.

complete a challenge like 30 day self care challenge, 30 day writing challenge and more.

visit a local art gallery.

watch a lecture or TED talk.

read a self-help book.

read a book on astronomy.

click aesthetic pictures of nature.

make your phone look aesthetic.

give your bedroom a makeover on ghibli studio aesthetic.

create a toothpick tower.

practice writing from your non dominate hand.

write about what a day in your dream life looks like.

take out your pet for a walk.

make something wearable for your pet.

learn about how to beat procrastination.

make a little plushie out of your old socks.

learn a new skill.

make a cute website in carrd.co.

write down 10 things you're grateful for.

sit by a river.

visit a local bakery.

walk around a lake.

scroll on pinterest about nature.

walk in the rain.

watch classic films.

watch fashion shows on youtube.

get a haircut.

drink water, take care of yourself <3

read some beauty tips.

watch ballet videos.

write a quote on moon.

say yes to everything for a day.

read some interesting articles.

watch your comfort movie.

write a fiction story.

make your own calendar.

have an indoor picnic with your partner.

write a list of things you will do with your bestie.

crochet something for your loved one or yourself.

learn graphic designing.

write 10 beautiful things about yourself.

make paper stars.

explore interesting websites.

explore your neighborhood.

make a yummy snack.

make hwachae.

try origami.

write a list of your favorite songs explaining why you love it.

watch run bts.

read some manga.

make strawberry cake.

watch conan gray's old vlogs <3

watch onegai my melody :D

design and launch a cute social media challenge to spread positivity and creativity online.

host a themed dinner party with your friends where everyone dresses up and brings a dish from a different culture.

have a spa day at home complete with homemade facemasks, bath bombs, and soothing music.

design a pretty jewellery.

draw your dream house.

try out guided meditation videos (you will find in youtube).

learn about a new culture.

make homemade jam.

do a random act of kindness.

research and plan a future trip.

try a new type of workout video.

research and practice self-defense techniques.

try a new type of creative writing (screenwriting, playwriting, etc.).

try a new type of DIY beauty product (lip balm, body scrub, etc.).

watch a documentary.

learn about constellations and stargaze.

practice calligraphy.

do a riddle.

#150 things to do when you're bored #jnquette #self care #self healing #self love #self worth #loablr #wonyoungism #pink pilates princess #studyblr

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

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Honey Girl. Chapter Two.

Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings - smut. cursing.

Word Count - 4k

Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.

You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.

You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.

That's when it hits you.

Bucky.

The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.

Your Tethering.

To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.

His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.

You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.

"Good morning, Buck."

You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.

"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."

He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.

"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"

"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you then."

It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky arrives at 8:45.

You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.

You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.

Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.

You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.

He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."

"I think that sounds perfect."

He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You know nothing about sailing.

Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.

You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.

"Creep," you tease.

"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.

He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.

"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"

"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."

You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.

"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."

You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."

"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.

He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.

"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.

"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."

"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.

He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.

"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.

"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."

"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."

"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."

He thinks for a moment.

"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"

He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.

"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."

Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.

"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."

"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.

The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.

You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.

He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.

"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."

"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.

"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."

"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.

"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."

Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.

"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.

"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.

"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."

You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.

"I don't know where to start," you whisper.

"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."

He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.

"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."

"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."

"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."

"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."

"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"

He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"Trust me, sugar, you're different."

Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.

Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.

Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.

Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.

He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.

He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.

You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.

"Bucky," you whine. "Please."

He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.

"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."

"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."

"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.

"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."

"My apologies, ma'am."

He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.

"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.

He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.

He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.

You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.

He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.

"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."

He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.

"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.

"I know, pretty baby. I know."

His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.

"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."

His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.

Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.

"You okay, sugar?"

You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.

"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."

He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.

"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.

"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.

He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.

"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."

"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."

You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.

"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"

"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."

You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.

He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.

The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.

The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.

Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.

"You should go. Eat something."

"I know. I just... I like being with you."

He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.

You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.

"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."

"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.

"One step at a time."

"All the time in the world," he echoes.

"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.

"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.

He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.

You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.

"Stella? Hey - you okay?"

"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"

"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."

"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."

"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."

"Ask away, Stell."

"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."

"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.

"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."

You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.

"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"

"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.

"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"

You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.

"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"

"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."

"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"

You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"Wait... what? Where?"

"In California. The café is here, in California!"

You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.

There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.

Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.

You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.

Bucky or your dreams.

Tag List -

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tag list continued here <3

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certified-bi · 8 months ago

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Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.

1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...

2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.

Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.

3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.

4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.

5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.

Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.

#watcher #they really need a CEO who has business experience first and foremost or at the very least a consultant they actually listen to #they also should put more focus on other personalities and actual give them a chance to stick. none of them got famous or a fanbase in a day #give some of the others time to grab attention

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harrysloveboat · 1 year ago

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John B’s Girl | PT. 2

Read Part 1 here.

Summary: John B comes face to face with the ugly truth and reacts in the most expected way. JJ can’t hold back anymore, willing to risk it all for one person. All the while (Y/N) deals with the consequences of her choices.

Word Count: 27.5K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, soft!dom JJ, DARK!JJ, fluff, choking, subspace, clit play, degrading, slight daddy kink, slight mention of anal, physical fight, very minor mention of abuse, blood play, biting (just once), a little thigh riding, JJxCameron!Reader, JohnBxCameron!Reader etc.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I accidentally took this one shot farther than intended and my life got in the way while writing so it was delayed😭

I hope you guys enjoy it and that it was worth the wait! I was also listening to Chris Briney’s playlist while writing parts of it so feel free to play that while reading🙈 pt.3 coming soon, comment on the taglist if you’d like to know when it comes out❤️

JJ’s mind was reeling as he departed the van with a quick tug of his shorts and a clasp of the button.

He had stepped on his red hat when jumping out, mindlessly dusting the sand off of it without a care as his legs led him back to the fire pit. JJ was simply going through the motions, doing his best to ignore the way the fabric of his boxers dragged against his softening member. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her sweet peak. The hat was placed on backwards to cover his tousled hair from view. He could still feel her on every indention and arch of his toned body. Believing one time would truly satiate his need for (Y/N) was a complete joke.

It was a cruel and ridiculous notion.

If anything, that’s all he could think about now. A small taste wasn’t enough, he wanted to suffocate between her legs and leave her quaking. Fuck her mouth until she had pretty tears streaming down her cheeks and saliva dribbling down her chin. Make her scream his name until she went mute. JJ had half a mind to turn around and act on impulse before Kie’s curly hair popped into his frame and refrained him from completing his body’s request. She was wearing a frown, brown eyes searching behind JJ while speaking. “Hey J. John B’s been looking for (Y/N) for a while apparently. You seen her?”

Yeah, I was fucking her in the van.

JJ let out a small breath at his thoughts, shaking his head innocently. “Nope. No clue,” he lied knowing she was probably still recuperating in the van. But he played the part so perfectly, feigning worry to mirror her state. His ocean blue eyes aimlessly flickered through the crowd without actually zoning in on anyone. “Does JB have any clue where she is?” It was hard to contain the mixture of emotions he felt for his best friend at the moment.

On one hand, John B taken it too far involving an unwilling JJ into his cruel game. Using him to get his revenge on (Y/N) and getting off on forcing him to watch something he was forbidden from claiming. On the other hand, John B’s initial reservations about their behavior was proven more than accurate by the fact that his girlfriend was most likely getting dressed in the Twinkie after JJ had just gotten done railing into her.

“You guys find her yet?” Pope’s intrusion at his right side brought him back to the conversation at hand. Kie sighed, genuinely growing more worried as time passed. “No.. I mean, it’s not like she could’ve went far? She came with us and I doubt she’d leave with Rafe without telling us,” Kie crossed her arms over her chest faintly recalling the oldest Cameron hanging out with Topper a while ago but (Y/N) wouldn’t have just left with him. Things between the two siblings had been tense for a while now with her dating a Pogue. “Well I just saw him flirting with some poor Touron so that’s not even an option,” Pope’s confirmation was layered with disgust not able to imagine what poor girl would fall for his antics.

John B appearing out of thin air from the crowd was what really made JJ zone in fully.

Neither of them had to say a word for the air to grow tense. John B hadn’t really taken the time to watch JJ’s reaction when (Y/N) unraveled in front of him, but it was easy to guess that his best friend had caught on. The fact that JJ didn’t seem as worried as the others fed into the foreboding dread he was trying to pretend wasn’t there. They turned into two alpha males fighting over territory the second they made eye contact. Standing proud with chests puffed up, oozing testosterone into a suddenly hostile setting.

“Lost your girl JB?”

He didn’t have to poke the bear but JJ is simply a victim of his true nature.

After all, it was John B who chose to start this. How could he be blamed?

The smirk that played on his otherwise innocent features sent John B into a spiral. His hand would form a fist and then loosen, only to repeat. The unspoken words JJ was attempting to convey were being understood perfectly. Kie looked between them, becoming aware of the undeniable tension swelling in the air. A lid was about to blow off and Kie wasn’t sure if it would be John B or JJ to lose it first. Pope was as oblivious as ever, checking his phone to send (Y/N) another text.

“I saw her for a little bit.”

John B’s teeth gritted as he took a step forward. The implications the blonde haired boy was making was only triggering the residual jealousy inside of him. He would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his girlfriends eyes when JJ demanded her attention. It was like a punch to the kidney remembering the pause she took when being introduced to him. John B wasn’t one to normally struggle with his worth, but it was too easy to assume that things might’ve turned out different if JJ had been the one who got the job with Ward Cameron instead of him.

“I’m picking up some weird vibes..,” Kie interrupted with a tentative tone, eyes flickering between the two.

John B was a giddy kid on Christmas morning watching the two girls mingle on the boat. (Y/N) Cameron was actually sitting on the H.M.S. Pogue in a sexy little one piece bikini talking to his friends. And she was dating him.

“JJ’s not gonna like her.”

“JJ has to like her.”

“Yeah but he’s not going to.”

“You’re killing my mood Pope.”

“She’s the Kook Princess for fucks sake.”

“If you’re cussing that means you’re really mad,” John B was partially teasing. Pope was hitting too close to home without realizing it. JJ’s been his best friend since the third grade. Everything significant that ever happened to JB always made its way back to JJ. Anytime he skipped school, JJ was the one who led the charge. Any idea or scheme, good or bad, was brought up between the two before anyone else. Hell even the grinded herbs spilled on the floor of his guest bedroom belonged to none other than his partner in crime.

JJ not liking his girlfriend because she was a Kook just wasn’t an option.

Pope rolled his eyes while carrying the cooler (Y/N) and Kie had packed off the deck. “I get ignored but I’m always right,” he mistook his friend’s carefree attitude for confidence. There was just no way Pope wasn’t going to be right about this. There wasn’t a walking Kook on Outer Banks that didn’t receive the bad end of one of JJ’s stink eyes or his colorful language. The Kook Princess and her knight and shining armor at the time, Topper, were the main topic of many drunk rants about social inequality.

John B pensively knocked against the wooden railing with his beer can, accepting Pope’s prediction. “Okay well- we can always leave them stranded so they can work their shit out,” John B threw up a solution to the mix. Pope dropped the cooler before giving him a pointed look. “It’s truly scary how quickly you came up with that,” he was a little impressed and frightened at the same time.

Pope’s gaze moved behind him, heavy footsteps giving way to the queasiness that came with jitters. “Fishin’ for some drum today boys?” JJ’s chipper voice put an end to their discussion and forced fake smiles. Pope began undoing the rope tying them to the dock with a quick nod. John B didn’t have time to react with his special guest already making her way towards the cooler that Pope had brought on board. The time he thought he had to come up with a plan disappeared. Kie scrambled up at his arrival to help diffuse any situation that might unfold while John B shifted to face his girlfriend and best friend. “(Y/N) this is the last member of the Pogues, JJ Maybank. JJ, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N) Cameron. Thought she could come with us today,” he introduced them formally.

The rest just seemed to happen in slow motion.

His blue eyes landed on her, hair at the end of her ponytail drifting towards her left shoulder with the gust of wind. Cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink that JJ didn’t know the name of, but found himself suddenly wanting to. She reached up to lift her designer sunglasses from the brim of her nose to the top of her head. He swallowed hard, caught off guard by the gleam in her eyes that matched the magnitude of the suns’. Her glossy lips were moisturized by some chapstick JJ needed to know the flavor of. The bikini was black, with two openings at the side and simple spaghetti straps that only put emphasis on her chest. Every alluring inch of tanned skin was prompting him towards her.

The only time she ever really crossed his path was during a tussle with Topper or Rafe. He never really had the time or interest in concentrating on the Kook Princess.

Which in reality made a lot of sense to JJ.

Because he felt like he was actually seeing her for the first time. Like he didn’t even know who she was until now.

“Nice to properly meet you JJ, I- uhm..- I brought some beer over,” and it was the pause in her sweet voice that really sealed the deal.

(Y/N)’s field of vision was consumed by JJ. His muscular arms in the sleeveless gray t-shirt were shimmering with sweat. The cotton fabric hung low exposing the defined lines of his collarbones. The sun lit up the sapphire color in his eyes and sharpness of his jawline. And normally, normally, (Y/N) had a hatred for baseball caps. The way they ruined your hair after wearing them for too long. Or how the little hole in the back never sat just right with her ponytail. But today? Her entire perspective changed on them as she caught sight of the singular loose strand of hair falling onto JJ’s forehead. The red hat was facing the opposite way, blonde locks poking out under the sides of it. For heaven sakes JJ had a damn toothpick snug between his lips.

How could she not be thrown off by him? He was the epitome of a bad boy that would probably be haunting her dark dreams in the upcoming future.

“I didn’t know Kook Princesses knew that beers existed.”

With his playfulness, the stress in their surroundings dissolved.

A quiet snort on her end and his boots landing on the boat was the end of it. The big explosion they’d prepared for amounted to nothing more than a shared beverage and banter that was borderline flirtatious.

“Well… that could’ve gone way worse,” Pope noted from John B’s side.

In retrospect, it did go way worse.

“Everything okay?” (Y/N) called out to them from where she was making her way up to the huddled group preventing the storm that was brewing from unleashing. Her breathing was still uneven, fingers fiddling nervously with the shiny cross necklace at her neck. The vibrator still made it difficult to walk with the way it would slide inside of her restricting her from forgetting about the incident in the van but she was satiated for now. Able to process other thoughts than just JJ. Guilt was at the forefront of her conflicted emotions. Everybody but John B and JJ looked at her. They heard her but they hadn’t even broken their stand-off to acknowledge her presence.

Kie shot her head around to (Y/N) exhaling a sigh of relief since she appeared uninjured. But at a second glance, she noted the tangled mess of hair that had been miserably patted down and ran through. The subtle rise and fall of her chest to finish catching her breath. The crimson color painted on her cheeks that ran down her neck to her shoulders.

“Everything’s great now. JB was lookin’ for ya and I was just telling him that I’d ran into you,” JJ’s smirk widened. He was just having too much fun playing into the obvious suspicion that danced in John B’s brown eyes. It was hard to not want to blurt it out right then and there, that his little game hadn’t worked out the way he intended it to. The bittersweet moment that would eventually come when John B pulls the vibrator out was enough motivation to keep his mouth shut. A side of JJ he wasn’t aware of was coming out for vengeance.

(Y/N) had to physically stop herself from jabbing her elbow into JJ’s side. She wanted to come clean, tell John B the truth even if it would be devastatingly difficult to remedy. She owed him that now. “Yeah, by the fire pit. When I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some fresh air,” it was sort of the truth. (Y/N) couldn’t pick this moment in front of everyone to be honest. She just wanted to make sure that he found out through her and not by opening JJ’s present.

“Mhm,” JJ hummed digging his fists into his pockets. It was her lie that bled false hope into John B as he finally broke with a peek her way. She was staring at him, silently pleading to back off with her big doe eyes. JJ couldn’t blame him for relaxing with one look her way, she had the same affect on him.

Pope adjusted his flannel with a heavy breath. “Well I don’t know about you guys, but that was a lot for one night. I’m ready to go to bed. And Pops ran me down dry today,” his body was still sore from all the deliveries and inventory he had done at the shop earlier. It was indeed getting a little late for all of them now. There was a good amount of liquor in their systems so calling it a night wasn’t a bad idea. Kie was still feeling unconvinced though. Nothing that was being said was wrong but it was the way it was being said. The heavy emotion that weighed the trio down. And of course, JJ was acting far too odd and smug.

“It was a lot for one night, huh?” JJ’s head whipped around to her then. He was so obviously referring to the fact he had busted a weeks load, who was he kidding, a months load of frustration into her. (Y/N)’s knuckles turned white around the chain feeling the way JJ peered down the front of her body and stopped at the end of her dress. Her body would be undeniably hot if anyone was to touch it at this very instant. “Yeah, we should get home,” her voice was shaky as she stepped toward John B, outstretching her free hand to him and rewarding JJ’s audacity without a glance over.

He wound his fingers around hers, letting her be the one to calm him down and wash the anger away. He didn’t bother looking at JJ again as they began walking because he’s afraid he might punch the stupid smirk off his face if he does. (Y/N) had accidentally already done that for him by taking John B’s hand.

“I tried-,” John B squeezed her hand lowering his voice as they walked a few steps ahead of their friends, “getting your attention.”

The vibrating noise the toy made against the metal flooring of the van echoed in her ears.

“Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock.”

(Y/N) jumped out of her skin at the mention of the device. She cursed whatever higher power had led John B to making this purchase. Her skin crawled with the flashback it brought on. She was even angrier at herself for still being turned on by the way JJ had fucked her into utter submission. If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve taken it out and wiped herself clean. But JJ had left her dazed. Perplexed by the intensity of pleasure and shame from not feeling guiltier than she should.

“I turned it off.”

“You.. turned it off?” John B repeated, shock evident on his features. There was never an actual contract between them with a set list of rules or anything but they were dabbling in punishment and handing over control so it didn’t make any sense to him. Why would she do that knowing what would ensue? It crossed his mind that it could’ve been because he took it too far moments before she vanished. He wasn’t dumb enough to ignore that it had been careless of him to push her like that in front of JJ. He felt a little bad about how inconsiderate it had been to do that as they reached the van. John B didn’t say another word as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked ahead.

There was an odd white tint on the windows leftover from their indiscretion. Like the kind caused by fog that dried up. The smell inside wasn’t any better. Some of it escaped with all the doors opening but it was still present when the engine switched on. Kie and Pope were scrunching up their noses as (Y/N) sunk into her seat, head resting against the window wishing she could become one with the car door. Her heart beat a little quicker as she inhaled the sweat and aroma of sex.

If anybody deciphered exactly what it was, they chose not to mention it.

But it enveloped (Y/N). Hugged her tight and flooded her with what were now sinful memories. Shutting her eyes, her fingertips skimmed across the top of her thigh timidly, the one where JJ had left a hand impression on the side. It sent chills through her body to relive the way his face dug into her. Her thighs retreating into one another as she pictured the almost black eyes watching her come apart under him. If anything served as the biggest reminder, it was the vibrator neatly tucking in JJ’s cum into her squirming body. Her hand moved upwards to pull her hair to one side and squeeze the back of her neck in an effort to calm herself. It was a mistake, a huge mistake to tilt her head back. Because the tormentor of her daydream was already burning holes into her.

JJ could see the lust flash through her eyes. Even from the backseat he could feel the heat emanating towards him. Watching her felt different now. He wasn’t getting a glimpse of her inappropriate thoughts, he was reading them. Observing how they popped up with every touch of her hand. Seeing the sweaty skin displayed by her bare shoulder firsthand and the hint of a darkening bruise that would be visible to those in the backseat if she moved her hair another inch. His fingers itched to replace hers. Going mad with the realization that she was thinking about him. It was his name she had been screaming earlier. The cause of her affliction was JJ this time. His chest was moving a little quicker now that her eyes were confirming what JJ suspected. His hand shifted downwards to tug on his shorts and fix them before his hardening dick became obvious.

“Guys I know this is technically John B’s van, but can you minimize the intimacy in the van. It reeks,” Pope waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically while requesting that one of the two in the front rolled the window down. They had almost managed to get away with it when Pope just had to go and open his mouth about it.

The curve of JJ’s lip tilted upwards as Kie delivered a detrimental blow to Pope’s arm. She was already suspecting something and with the silence in the van intriguing her further, Pope making this type of comment was just unnecessary. (Y/N) couldn’t look at JJ’s triumphant expression for another second longer though.

John B gave a very short and curt, half hearted laugh, hands tightening around the wheel. His chest felt a little tight. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when the last time they’d had sex in the Twinkie was. It definitely wasn’t recent enough for it to linger this way and it definitely hadn’t been present earlier. Anger flared within him while trying to remain blissfully ignorant as to the obvious signs in front of him.

The eerie quietness for the rest of the ride was only made bearable by the music playing on the radio. Everyone was too distracted in their own thoughts, exchanging wary glances back and forth. Even JJ found John B scowling over at him quite often, but he simply kept his eyes on (Y/N).

The van coming to a stop awoken everyone out of their distractions. John B was the first one out, walking with purpose to get to (Y/N)’s door and reaching it before she could even lift her hand to the handle. Pope left the back first, talking about the leftover cereal from (Y/N)’s little shopping trip he just needed to eat before bed. Kie began to exit, slowing down when she noticed that JJ wasn’t moving at all from where he was sat. If she took her time, she’d be able to catch him by himself and ask him what the fuck was going on.

Her plan seemed to work pretty well considering John B gripped onto (Y/N)’s wrist to pull her inside not paying any mind to the others. The constant loop of emotions was only infuriating him more. The car ride felt hours long, giving him time to envision several scenarios of what might’ve happened. Trying to get rid of those images was proving to be more difficult. He didn’t even realize how upset he actually was until they reached the front door and (Y/N) wiggled her wrist in his grasp. “It hurts,” she was nervous, not because of him but because of the conversation that awaited.

John B eased up on her a fraction of a second after she spoke. He didn’t bother looking back though, boosting (Y/N)’s nerves. “John B,” she tried quietly as he urged them through the living room, through the hallway, and into his bedroom. She could faintly hear Pope rummaging through the cabinets before his bedroom door was opening. Her pulse quickened, the panic bubbling inside of her. But he was unwavering. Setting off an attack of anxiety-fueled nausea through her. Every rushed movement was beckoning her closer to her confession. He wasn’t letting her get a word out, shutting the door behind them. “John B,” he ignored her, urging them over to sit (Y/N) down on the bed.

“Why’d you turn it off?.. When did you turn it off? Where?.. It’s still inside you though, right?” He didn’t actually expect a response to the extensive questions he was throwing her way. He was moving too rapidly to give her time to answer them. John B didn’t even know if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to rip it off. His lips were set in a fine line, overlooking the tears swelling in her eyes as his knees met the wooden floorboards.

(Y/N) made a steadfast attempt to keep herself covered but his hand boldly flung the dress up. There was both anger and lust etched in his expression. His hands grabbed onto her knees, lunging them to opposite sides with eyes glued to one place and one place only. A choked noise left her lips at the direction he was going towards.

“We need to talk,” the dreaded words every man loathed hearing. He focused in on the sight of the red lace that had a slight bump over it where the vibrator was located. The discussion she wanted to have was the last thing on his mind right now. He chose to exist in the expectation of how this night was supposed to go rather than the reality.

“I don’t want to talk right (Y/N),” he insisted. Her cheeks felt wet and palms clammy. Lungs constricting in a frightening way with a heavy chest as she stumbled through finding the courage to spit it out. All the while he moved at too rapid of a pace for her to process. Attempting to close her thighs went horribly wrong, his hand flying over to keep them from closing.

It was purely on instinct. But unbeknownst to John B, his hand covered up the bruise left by his best friend. She winced from the pain, fingers twisting around the edge of the bed. His hand moved from there to the hem of her panties, snapping them to the side.

“John B stop,” her pleading went unheard due to the ringing in his ears. His fingers latched onto the end of it and began to pull it out.

The air escaped her lungs.

Her hand flung out to swat at his hand but his brawn was no match.

“John B- JJ and I-,” despite her cry, it was too late.

It felt like everything in the planet and beyond became deadly silent.

A pin could drop and you’d hear it in Australia.

He only managed to get it out halfway before the milky white substance was seeping out from the sides.

The next millisecond was the longest John B had ever experienced. His face went pale. There was no way for her to explain herself out of this one. The sight was so distinct. It was so obviously cum that didn’t belong to him. Every stress-filled interaction crashed together inside him in a long-awaited train wreck. The way his throat would dry when JJ would go silent into a trance upon (Y/N)’s bubbly entrance. His blue eyes would get just a little brighter at her goofiness and matching banter. Her laugh would be just a smidgen higher when he did his very JJ things. She’d melt whenever he would sweetly request something of her, in a way that was supposed to have been a joke from both sides. However, the punchline to the joke seemed to be him.

In the millisecond that followed, John B lurched away from her like she had caught fire. The feeling of disgust was a harsh contrast to what he was feeling before. The woman before him was one he didn’t recognize any longer. It couldn’t be his (Y/N) sitting on the edge of his bed. No. That girl loved him. That girl would’ve never done something like this. A sound was made as the sex toy fell out the rest of the way reminding him that she indeed had. His blood boiled with rage. The edge of the panty line snapping back and startling her out of her anguish.

“John B I’m so sorry-,”

“Are you fucking serious?” He seethed watching as she jumped up from the bed, tears falling down her cheeks while struggling to catch a breath. But he pulled back from her letting his anger fuel the desire to see her vanish from his vicinity. “Don’t fucking touch me,” his voice boomed out, making her flinch away from him. She’d never seen him this furious before. It was her fault though. She deserved his reaction.

John B didn’t need to ask who was to blame because he already knew the answer to that question. Even with his name falling from her lips moments as he took it out, the clear image of a smirking JJ from the Boneyard asking if he had lost her made him lose it. His best friend was to be held just as responsible. Before he could properly process what he was doing, the door swung open with determination. The sound it made as it hit the wall echoed throughout the house alarming everyone and undoubtedly leaving a doorknob sized hole in its wake.

(Y/N) chased after him, knowing exactly who he was looking for. “No John B,” she called out after him, sprinting to catch up to him. Even though he just looked like he was walking, his speed was astonishing. His head scanned around the empty kitchen and then the living room where Kie was bouncing up from the couch with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? What’re you looking for?” she asked exasperatedly, quickly reaching the conclusion that John B was fuming. There would be steam coming out of his ears if that was actually possible.

“Where’s JJ- I’m gonna kill him,” John B stated without hesitation as the toilet flushed from down the hallway. Before John B could get to it, (Y/N)’s palms were pushing back at his rock hard chest, muscles tight from rage.

“John B stop- this is my fault. It’s mine, nobody else’s but mine,” (Y/N) could barely keep in the sob as John B reacted quickly, moving away from her once again. His eyes were dark and empty, face completely emotionless except for the red hot anger. The sight of him becoming physically ill from her touch shattered her into pieces. Her body was shaking. She knew this is what would happen but nothing could’ve actually prepared her for it. Nobody warned her about what it would feel like to watch the love someone has for you drain from their face.

“I said don’t fucking touch me. Why are you even here, huh? Thought it would be fun to slum your way through Pogues?” John B’s hurled accusation was meant to hurt, meant to be offensive. He wanted her to really feel the same pain he was. He thought one day she might leave him for his best friend. Had pretended like it was his mind playing tricks on him. Never in a million years did he think this would happen. He was unable to breathe properly as he stared intently towards the opening bathroom door. He stretched his neck out to see who it was, only relaxing it back when Pope emerged from the bathroom. “What’s going on?” he gazed around at everyone having heard the door and shouting from where he was, eyes eventually honing in on the state (Y/N) was in.

John B laughed with no humor behind it and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. JJ fucked my slut of a girlfriend. My best friend fucking creampied her,” his head shook in disbelief, “He fucked her in the van while we were all looking for her,” John B’s voice was laced with venom watching as she curled in on herself without caring about how she felt. He put two and two together easily. The way she recoiled at the accusation only confirmed it, setting him off further as he took a step forward. “He did didn’t he? You opened your legs for him in the fucking Twinkie.” This was different from when he called her dirty names in the safety behind closed doors. He meant these humiliating words. Her crying was the only thing heard in the momentary silence. (Y/N) covered her chest with her arms as if to protect the imaginary physical wound that he inflicted. “Woah dude- wait, you’ve gotta chill out,” Pope moved with caution between him and (Y/N), holding his hand out to stop John B from moving any further. Not because he’d do anything, because the situation was getting too heated. He was hearing a bit too much information than needed, but if any of it was true he knew John B was on a unstoppable war path.

“Where’s JJ?” He was steady in his pursuit, unbothered by his friend who was trying to settle the situation at hand. “Jesus- He left! I talked to him outside and he left, alright?!” Kie yelled out at him, pulling his attention to the girl. “You’ve gotta calm down. Fighting him and hurting her isn’t gonna solve anything,” Kie reasoned in a slightly lower volume, but nonetheless still loud, while laying an attentive hand on his shoulder. Usually it was (Y/N) doing this. Asking him to cool off without speaking, just looking. It was a harsh reality to accept that she wasn’t. The disappointment to find out JJ hadn’t even made it past the front door was clear in the way his hand jerked. He swirled around on his feet to face (Y/N) again, looking past Pope.

“Get out.”

“John B, please let me talk to you.” Her voice was horse from all the crying. It was without a doubt asking for too much to have a civil conversation with John B right now. But her heart was squeezing in her chest and she couldn’t bare the thought of leaving things like this. Her mind struggled to find any words that would bring him peace. There was probably none that would. She had tried to avoid this… hadn’t she? Didn’t she keep asking him to stop? Or couldn’t she have just pulled away from his hold? The fact that was even a question in her mind made her chest swell with oncoming tears.

John B stiffened up taking another step forward that landed Pope’s hand onto his chest this time. “(Y/N) get the fuck out!” The conviction in his voice made her bottom lip quiver. Kie was angry at her but it was also difficult to watch (Y/N) break down like this. Since she’d joined them, they’d been inseparable. It was nice of course to have all the boys around but there was things she could talk to (Y/N) about that she couldn’t with them. A sense of trust and friendship that had formed during girl talk. She knew there was no excuse for her friends actions, but it was still difficult to watch the fallout unfold. “I’ll take her home and then I’ll be right back,” Kie offered as she went to the couch searching for her keys figuring that would be a way she could help them both. “Kie get her out of here right fucking now,” John B’s nostrils flared not having the capacity to continue looking at (Y/N).

“She’s going man, she’s going. Let’s just go outside,” Pope tried leading him out the back while Kie smacked a pillow in frustration, wondering where she set her keys down before they left.

But it was all too much for (Y/N).

The pure disdain from John B was appropriate. The way they were referring to her in third person now, as if she’d never been a Pogue, was also fitting but it all pierced her heart. She’d lost him and the rest of her true family over what? A hook-up? Another notch on JJ’s belt? She didn’t even have a clue.

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) grabbed her phone making her way to the door as Kie moved to stop her, “I’ll get home. Just stay with him.”

Kie called out for her in an effort to get her to rethink and wait just a few more minutes for her. But either she didn’t hear it or she chose not to.

The way the screen door slammed behind her seemed to signify the end to a lot more than what she could yet imagine or even handle.

Her legs were wobbly as she made her way down the beaten path. It took her a few minutes to gather her strength before she was able to walk away from the house without tripping over nothing. The adrenaline racing from the intensity of the fight urged her legs to move faster. She couldn’t help but punish herself by reliving every second of it. The look on John B’s face when he removed the toy made her insides churn. The image would be scarred into her memory. It seemed like every other special, beautiful moment they shared was erased from existence. She wanted to turn back time, find a million different ways to come clean that didn’t include a stupid fucking vibrator. Without even noticing, her sprint gradually tripled in speed until it turned into full fledged running and weeping down his neighborhood. A car past her by at some point but she didn’t even see it through the haze of her tears.

With time passing by faster than she noticed, she felt her chest slowing to a calmer state and cheeks drying. It was only then, when every heightened sense took an undeserved respite, that her speed lowered. Things were more visible now that it felt like she had cried every drop she physically could. It only felt like minutes in the middle of her attack, but she’d managed to make it quite a distance. The convenience store John B normally drove to when he picked up some late night cravings during her periods came into view and almost made her collapse in the process. Walking to her house from here would most likely take the whole night and (Y/N) probably could make it if she was feeling extra ballsy. But as she eyed the dimly lit street ahead and the little twenty-four hour mini-mart that threatened the shaky stability she had found, she knew tonight was not that night.

Her phone screen lit up her face, swiping up to open the device when it recognized her. (Y/N) let out a trembling breath as she made her way to her Uber app, ordering one to her current location so that she could be dropped off in Figure Eight. Once it was charged to the card her dad had opened for her, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her dad really only checked her account to re-up her money so there wasn’t a high chance of him questioning her on a late night Uber drive when she was supposed to be sleeping over at Kie’s, but even if he did see it, the argument that would ensue seemed vastly unimportant compared to everything else.

A wave of emotions risked another waterfall. In contrary to her previous belief, apparently she might never stop crying. Waiting there for the driver, all she could think about was John B. The coldness he aimed her way. He had meant every single belittling word and (Y/N) felt like it was well-deserved. She wanted to blame JJ. It would be so easy to do it considering the predicament she had been in when he followed after her. One that he had been very well aware of.

But as much as she wanted to do that, the truth was she wanted JJ in that moment. Not John B, but JJ. The look in his blue eyes when they were sitting in front of the bonfire had ignited a buried desire for him. There was actually way too many instances where she had craved JJ in the way she had him tonight. Odd moments where they were left alone for one reason or another, creating tension amongst themselves with inappropriate thoughts and stolen glances of the other. It was really her fault for not admitting it to herself sooner. All of this could’ve been avoided if she had stopped lying to herself.

The honk of the horn brought her back from her zoned out state. (Y/N) made her way into the vehicle that matched the one in the app, giving the man a weak smile. He asked her something, but her brain didn’t make sense of it. She curled up into the door similar to the way she had in the van earlier, choosing to get lost in the palm trees rather than hold a meaningless conversation with someone she’d never meet again. The silence he was met with was a clear indication that she wanted to opt out of the friendly chatter and arrive at her destination.

The driver picked up the hint, starting his drive to the address given without another hitch. Even blessing her with the grace of ignoring the faint weeping in the backseat. She was torn up inside, grieving the loss of her boyfriend while also struggling with whether she actually regretted it or not. Saying she did would just be a distasteful lie. Confronting John B over this had sent her headfirst into the veracity of her feelings.

The rest of the drive felt empty. There wasn’t a living soul out when they rode down her street. Her own house had all the lights off, it gave off an eerie looking vibe at this time of night. The driver came to a stop at her gate, letting her get off there so she could enter through the gate door next to the car entrance. Her mumbled thank you was politely acknowledged with a small wave and head bow before she exited.

The walk from the warm car through the freezing temperature of the night to the coziness of her bedroom was exhausting in her numb state. She was beyond glad no one was awake because she didn’t have the energy to deal with her dad who would pester her with questions. Or Wheezie who would try to get all up in her business for nothing other than the sake of living up to the stereotype of nosy little sisters. Rose would just put on her motherly act that seemed to bother her too much to play well so it would just end up sucking more energy from (Y/N).

And Rafe- well Rafe might be the only one that could cross her path. He wouldn’t care enough to even notice her presence. But he was most likely still at the Boneyard with the other Kooks anyways inhaling too much coke.

A relaxing bath sounded perfect right now, with some bubbles and candles. She could play one of her mellow playlists in the background. Something relaxing, not sad, because she’d be right back where she started. She didn’t know if she’d actually retrieve the candles from the second floor linen closet or even have the energy to search for her speaker but at least the bubbles she could reach from inside the bathtub. The rest she could leave up to her imagination.

Her feet dragged all the way up to the third floor, past the expensive paintings and family portraits, and to her bedroom. All of the lights in the hallway made it hard for her to see in the pitch black of her bedroom. (Y/N) preferred it that way anyways. Her back rested against the door once it shut, one hand on the doorknob still feeling like she couldn’t get a decent amount of oxygen into her lungs. Her head lifted just to bang back on the door delivering a sting to the back of her head that didn’t actually quell the emotional pain.

She was about to go into her bathroom when she saw the infamous red baseball cap on the grey chair, lined with silver around the edges, that sat in front of the window. The moonlight pouring in from the window was shining down on it like a spotlight, alerting her to the presence of the boy that seemed to be everywhere lately.

The fact that it was in such perfect view made her tilt her head slightly, not looking away from it. It was almost like he had made sure to leave it in sight so that they could bypass the obvious jump scare that would’ve occurred otherwise. Her back stood a little straighter, heart caving just the tiniest bit at the gesture.

And that’s exactly why JJ had done it. Her bloodshot eyes and lifeless expression were proof he’d been right in doing so. He had wanted to be there for her when they got out of the van, gut still twisting with the way John B had grabbed onto (Y/N). But he was aware now that he was just a coward. With no clue as to how to make it up to her. After the conversation with Kie, he’d gotten on his bike and rode away. He was supposed to go home, face Luke’s wrath about his week long disappearance since the Chateau would obviously be off limits for the foreseeable future. But the pull he felt was strong, as powerful as gravity.

That’s how JJ had ended up pacing on the other side of the wall that separated Ward Cameron and the rest of his Kook family from the outside world. He was drawn to a place he’d never stepped foot in. He’d only gotten as far as the driveway the one time he road with John B to surprise (Y/N) and pick her up for a rowdy night. They had watched her slip out of her bedroom window and proceed to climb down the enormous tree next to the roof. He’d been enamored by her that night like he was all the time, thrown off by her spontaneity. Every corner JJ turned, he found another reason to fall for this girl. It hadn’t taken him long to decide to hop it once the image of her pretty face remained too long in his imagination. The possibility that she might be a little… hostile about his intrusion didn’t dissuade him.

He’d already been there for a long time, enough to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming. He started off with sitting down on the same seat the hat was resting on before moving towards the edge of the bed. When time kept passing, he laid down on the comfortable king sized mattress. Then he discarded his articles of clothing until he was in his boxers, not wanting to dirty the comforter. He knows she’d wave off the silliness in that but he didn’t want to taint the pristine state of her bedroom. The ridiculous amount of pillows around his body tempted him into a deep slumber but the concern at how late it was getting and her not arriving put a hold on that. JJ was even getting close to calling Kie when the door had finally opened.

The sight of her hitting her head tugged at the strings of his heart. He was appalled with himself. Feeling unworthy of even being here knowing that he had left her to handle the fallout on her own. No amount of persuading from Kie to give John B a couple of days should of been enough to stop him from greeting her at the door with his outstretched arms when she walked out. But in all honesty, it was his own decision to put off the confrontation with John B and reencounter with (Y/N) after such a heavy revelation. He wouldn’t even blame her if she never wanted to see him again.

But when her shoulders slouched as she turned towards the bed and her weary eyes acclimated to the darkness, JJ didn’t see an ounce of malice hidden in them.

“You know breaking and entering is an arrest-able offense?”

She sounded defeated as her arms found sanctuary in the slot of her back between the door. JJ sat up slightly, resting his back against the cushioned headrest. The fanciest thing he’s probably ever laid on. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. JJ had expected to be yelled at, maybe thrown an object or two, then kicked out the window or through the door depending on her generosity. Instead of accusations or bitterness, he was met with a thinly veiled playful threat. And that was a million times better than being on her bad side.

“Call the cops on me then.” It was just as much to test out the waters as it was to avoid the topic at hand. It was so painfully obvious to him that things had gone considerably worse than JJ expected when (Y/N) was choosing to engage in some light-hearted banter before he could even bring it up. Which she pretended to contemplate for a moment from where she stayed put against the door. She knew that what he said wasn’t by any means considered lewd language but just because it was JJ and JJ’s voice saying it while fully displaying his six pack under the gleam of the moonlight, her mind went a little off track.

“I knew I probably couldn’t crash at the Chateau and home just..” he didn’t have to continue it. (Y/N) had bought a full sized First Aid kit to keep on hand for whenever JJ would need to be patched up. It was safely stashed away in the bathroom closet at JB’s so that she could tend to his wounds.

(Y/N) pursed her lips fully aware that she hadn’t actually been planning on kicking him out but just the fact that his only option was going to Luke’s if she did left her with a queasy stomach. They watched one another in silence, JJ hanging on to the anticipation of waiting for her reply. When his fingers ran through his hair in an attempt to ease the stress, (Y/N) finally pushed off from the door.

“The left side of the bed is mine,” her eyes flickered to the empty right side and JJ got the hint, “I will be building a Wall of China that you cannot cross. Lock the bathroom door when you use it. The rest of the house is off limits because my dad might have a heart attack if he sees you and Wheezie’s a snitch or a blackmailer depending on her mood and what day of the week it is,” with a lock of the door, she was making her way towards the front of the bed, “Rafe would just be unpleasant to run into, and this is the most important rule so listen very closely Maybank.. If you turn my fan off, I will make sure you suffer,” bringing attention to the hum of the fan that JJ remembered had indeed been turned on this whole time.

A small amused smile played on JJ’s lips at the list of rules she gave him. He was so engrossed in her every move, still finding her beautiful even in the midst of chaos. It was easier to play this game of pretend, like nothing had happened. As if his presence in her home was somewhat normal. It certainly felt more normal than it should. “Anything else warden?” JJ teased as he scooted over on the bed. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came around the corner to lay her phone on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna take a bath so… leave me alone,” she smiled unenthusiastically hooking the phone up to her charger that was awaiting and keeping a cool demeanor. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore his playful mood, JJ held an unmatched power to distract her from the reality of the situation.

“A bath, huh?”

“Yes a bath.”

“I think you should go to bed like that.”

(Y/N) paused, all too familiar with what it felt like to have his eyes digging into her by now. She knew what he was insinuating, that she should lay down with her cum soaked panties. She didn’t move her gaze away from the nightstand, legs shifting as she felt the wave of heat washing over her. She couldn’t help but curse herself internally, mad at herself for having no control over her reactions.

“I think a bath is what I need.”

“I think sleeping would be much better.”

“I think I’m right.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Air puffed out from her lips as she turned to face him, meeting his eyes like she had expected to. He was so annoying that (Y/N) could smother him in his sleep with one of her pillows. But the mischief in his eyes was beckoning her over. Seeing as he was unwilling to back down, she figured she could wait until he fell asleep to wash off the remainder of tonight. There was no way to get past JJ when he got this stubborn, not a single word would persuade him otherwise and she knew it.

JJ smiled jubilantly when she puffed up pillows in the middle of the bed to separate them instead of continuing the back and forth. He wouldn’t deny he was mostly eager to have her close again, especially seeing as she was actually letting him stay. Every second next to her felt counted, like his minutes were almost up and he had to soak in every detail. He slid down in the bed again while she moved to the dresser, pulling out a plain, worn out t-shirt. His eyes were on her every move, being able to observe her more than he was normally able to.

(Y/N) wanted to grab a pair of pajamas, or at least pajama shorts since JJ would be sleeping over. But if there was one thing she despised, it was wearing anything other than a simple raggedy t-shirt and panties to bed. She could grab a pair of pajama shorts but she knew if he ended up staying for anything longer than a couple days she’d eventually give in to her irritating body heat and remove them. And considering the fact that JJ had already had the privilege of getting a very clear picture of her lower half naked, there was nothing left to hide.

Still though, as she approached the bed, she twirled her fingers in a circle. Just because she’d be laying down in underwear didn’t mean he needed to see her change.

“Really?” JJ asked like it was stupid to even make him turn around. His eyes moved to her chest then, becoming all too aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see her properly when he bent her over in the Twinkie.

“Seriously.” She didn’t move an inch until JJ, very begrudgingly might she add, faced away from her. Her hand moved to the back of her neck once she was sure that JJ couldn’t see her, undoing the straps with a quick pull. Once the dress was off her body, (Y/N) slipped on the t-shirt. She hadn’t bothered to ruin a fresh pair of panties when she knew she’d be escaping to bathe as soon as he was snoring at her side.

The bed dipped next to him when (Y/N) laid down, but he couldn’t catch a single glimpse of her past the wall of pillows. JJ sighed, glancing upwards at the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling. They were cute. It felt like he was getting an insight to her private life. One that he wanted to be a part of. The sleep that had fought him earlier was nowhere to be found. Not when he was in (Y/N)’s house. In her perfectly decorated room. Incapable of falling asleep in her comfy bed with a mountain of pillows when she was laying only a couple of feet from him, with a t-shirt on and his cum inside her.

“Would you stop huffing and puffing over there and just sleep already?” (Y/N) would be lying if she said that was the only thing keeping her up. She had been worried that once her head hit the pillows she would be too exhausted to stay up for a bath. Yet now that she was actually here, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning. The air felt thick enough to the point that she’d even be willing to smoke a blunt to relax. But the weed wouldn’t extinguish this tension, it would probably only heighten it.

“My bad. You’ve just got a stupid amount of pillows here and I can’t seem to catch my breath,” he shrugged his shoulders to himself, tilting back to the pesky wall. JJ found warmth under the covers but craved to get it from her body instead. He knew it was a bad idea but the temptation kept unwinding and growing. The opportunity was there, just how it had been earlier. An idea crept into his mind as he heard her shuffle around. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the comment, landing on her side that wasn’t in his direction. “And? They’re comfortable,” she explained, even though she really didn’t have to. She bent her elbow to place it under the pillow trying to find the perfect spot to relax in although it seemed to be impossible to accomplish.

JJ’s arm reached out to play with one of tags on the pillow, running it between his fingers. “It’s suffocating is what it is. And there can’t be anything comfortable about living in the North Pole,” referring to the fan hitting them directly at full blast. JJ didn’t actually mind it, he was just enjoying the teasing that was always awarded with some form of response. His fingers started tugging on the tag, focused on dismantling the first obstacle and allowing her hair to become visible.

“Well-,” (Y/N)’s witty response was halted by the small noise that suspiciously sounded like her barrier was being broken through. Her fingers lazily played with the satin sheets acting like she was unaffected. She knew exactly what he wanted but refused to give in. “I’ll make sure to remind them to tidy up your five star room in prison if you keep complaining.”

JJ chuckled, removing the second pillow with more ease now that the one above it had been tossed behind him. Her backside was in sight now, hair loose and sprawled messily above the white of her bedsheets. The t-shirt had settled into the dip of her hips, making his tongue poke out to wet his bottom lip. There was something different about being here. Something that was charging his body with electricity. “You’d never turn me in.”

“It’s never too late,” (Y/N) breathed out in a hurry as the ruffling behind her increased. Her pulse jumped anticipating JJ’s next move. It was bewildering how much he disrupted her system on a cellular level. He hadn’t even touched her and she was finding it hard to inhale normally knowing that he’d be upon her soon. It should’ve been easy to reach behind her and chastise him for breaking her rules not even 20 minutes in, but it was actually aggravatingly challenging to do so.

“You want me to-,” suddenly, without warning, his defined chest was pressing into her back, evoking a loud hitch in her breath, “grab your phone for you to call?” JJ’s fingers crawled onto the tip of her curve, softly dipping a pointer finger under the lacy fabric. Her skin felt so soft and pliant. Her body quivered under him, only invigorating him. JJ’s lowered voice was much closer to her making her ankles lock together tightly. He was attempting to distract her with his words, very well knowing that she’d never be capable of such a thing.

“JJ you can’t do that,” she completely disregarded the question now, her entire mind faltering from the way his solid chest felt against her back. Despite her protest, she didn’t lift a feather to stop him. Not even her voice was convincing. Her own heart was beating rapidly against her rib cage. They had already done this dance earlier and it had led to a huge fallout. Possibly irreparable damage. Except he was some sort of magician, that made her lose her sanity with the flick of a wand. There was no mistaking the way she got lost in the waves of blue in his eyes on the ride back to the Chateau. She had almost gotten on her knees right then and there with no care on Earth for those around them.

JJ caught on to the affect he had on her like the true devil he was. “Why?” His body flawlessly molded into the crook of her back like he’s always belonged there. Hand taking its time moving around the arch of her hip and downward to knead into the flesh in an achingly cruel way that had her head spinning. A pitiful whine was held back so that it wouldn’t fuel the desire swirling between them. But it was hard to do so when he was consuming her senses. His masculine smell bear-hugging her, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“Because- Because John-,”

“John B isn’t here (Y/N),” JJ knew that was his best friend, but damn if he heard John B’s name one more time, “he’s already mad. What’s a second time gonna hurt?” His hand proceeded to move upwards, making a straight line up the side of her body and inching her shirt off along with it. She didn’t think her heart could palpate with anymore vigor than it was. (Y/N) was struggling to keep up the façade, JJ had already slithered his way past her pillow barrier and was doing the same to the imaginary one surrounding her. She must’ve fully warped under his spell because something logical coming from JJ couldn’t be right. “Then stop because it’s wrong,” her voice was higher pitched, waiting for the arrival of JJ’s unforgiving fingers on her breasts.

But JJ was villainous. Intent on unraveling her. He only managed to get one of her breasts to pop out, the other half of her chest still covered while his hand lifted up slightly so only the pad of his finger was tracing the outline of her side boob. There was a familiar neediness spreading inside that plagued her. She went from wanting to off him to reeling from his teasing. He refused to give in to her because she was obviously yearning for him in a similar fashion. And he’d make her admit it. Make her beg for it as many times as he pleased. “That’s not how this game works Princess,” he tsked into the space between her neck and her ear, fanning his hot breath down her heaving cleavage.

His tone was disapproving, like she should know better than that now. “The only way I’m stopping (Y/N), is if you tell me to. Tell me it would’ve made no difference which one of us found you first. Tell me right now you aren’t soaking between your legs.” JJ needed to hear it almost as much as he needed oxygen to survive. If she didn’t want him to abandon whatever was erupting between them, she needed to say it. If she didn’t want him in the same way he desperately needed, he’d get dressed, leave, and stay far away from her and John B. But he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle that form of banishment from her life.

Luckily for him, her resolve weakened with the swipe of his tongue against her earlobe and the hidden fear making its way into his voice. She pushed the side of her face into the fluffiness of her pillow in a last ditch effort to remain passive while her body went headfirst into the sinful pleasure, pressing her bottom into his hardening length. Her breathing stuttered hearing the deep groan it illicited from him. It was instant relief for the both of them, her pussy clenching at the feel of his erection digging into her. JJ couldn’t explain how hot it was to see her fight her own bodily desire for him. “I can’t tell you that,” she barely got out. The sensual touches and intentional build up had her thighs sliding together. Breathing around him was something her body forgot how to do.

JJ’s forehead fell onto her shoulder, matching her heavy breaths now that she was confirming what he so badly wanted to hear. He grasped her exposed tit, tugging until her back was arching along with it. Incapable of refraining himself with her submitting to him. “JJ,” she gasped out feeling a pull on the back of her shirt where it was stuck under her side. “Tell me what you need then,” he commanded in the very same tone from earlier that made her vision hazy and brain foggy.

“I need you J,” her body relinquished control with a small whine, obeying his orders by lifting up slightly from the bed to remove the t-shirt. She moved to face him, wanting nothing more than to run her fingers over the surface of his toned physique, but JJ used the grip on her breast to return her to her previous position. They weren’t in a rush this time. There was no boyfriend expecting her to return. No one to answer to in the dead of night. JJ had the advantage of time and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

His crotch rutting into her once in tandem with the flick of his finger over her nipple caused her mouth to drop open and a shudder to overtake her. “That’s how much I need you (Y/N),” he moaned, making her keen while his teeth grazed her shoulder blade. Every bit of her was intoxicating, like an addicting drug he was handing over his willpower to. The temptation was too much to handle. His fingers finally skimmed to the top of her panties, sliding under the thin material with ease and urgency. (Y/N) tilted her knee upwards so that he had more space at his disposal, fully letting herself succumb to JJ.

The second his hand connected with her slick mound her long eyelashes fluttered, a deep groan paving its way out. His index and middle finger slid around her clit, putting pressure on it by pressing into the sides. His semen mixing with her arousal allowed JJ to glide his fingers up and down with ease. “Oh f-fuck,” she sputtered out arm hastily wrapping around his. JJ was more vocal this time, moaning again from the feel of her sodden pussy. It urged him to grind up against her again finding relief in the contour of her body.

JJ’s free arm snuck it’s way under her neck, curving enough to be able to reach her hardened nipple. He twisted and squeezed relentlessly until he heard her cry out from the stimulation. His lips laid open mouthed kisses around her shoulders, sucking slightly with every pause. JJ didn’t falter though, he pulled on her nipple while adding extra pressure to her clit as he continued to stroke his fingers through her velvety folds. Her strangled moans were making his hard on throb from how wrecked she already sounded. (Y/N) couldn’t put together a single thought in her head, only feel the pleasure exploding inside her like fireworks.

“Fuck you feel so good, dripping again for me. Still leaking my cum,” JJ could no longer hold back as he sunk his teeth into the same spot of her upper body that he had been abusing, biting down until there was a metallic flavor soothing his tastebuds. His tongue licked up the wound, a carnal instinct forcing him to do something he never had even imagined would turn him on. However, the action sent him onto cloud nine, a high like no other. A groan vibrating against the broken skin.

Never had somebody bit her before and yet there was an embarrassing amount of slickness added to the mess between her legs. Her mouth gaped, opening with a high pitched, “Ah”. His muscles flexed under her grip as his fingers moved with more urgency feeling the result of what his action did to her. He couldn’t explain the feeling bursting inside his chest at the fact that she glowed under his barbaric behavior. (Y/N)’s head tilted to the side where JJ met her cheek with his nose. Face contorted from the waves of pain jolting through her that were mixing in with the ones of pleasure crashing into her mercilessly.

Her legs intertwined with his, tightening around his calves in order to receive some sort of grounding through the ferocity of his actions. “You like that? Like when I use my fingers to make you feel good?” JJ purred through hooded blue eyes watching her bottom lip tremble from the pleasure. He was vicious in his assaults, having to stop her thighs from shutting with a knee into the crease of her ass. As much as he wanted to shove his fingers into her hungry cunt, he wanted to make her fall apart by just playing with the sensitive nub. “Yes, love it J, I-,” her mouth paused while open, hips jutting out as JJ quickened his pace. She wanted to tell him she wouldn’t last long but he wasn’t letting her breathe.

“Is this what you were imagining in the van? My fingers inside of you, my tongue licking every inch of your pussy?” JJ murmured making her back straighten out and hearing her wheeze when he switched to a circular motion and back. Her previous orgasms had already been so intense that she was at risk of slipping away in the ecstasy. Her toes curled around the edge of the bedsheet panting into the air. (Y/N) was fully immersed in the vehement drag of his fingers and the hot puffs of air that electrified her skin. “Stay here f’me,” it was JJ’s dominating tone mixing with one of uneasiness that lulled her out of the fog, “that’s it pretty girl. Answer my question.”

He coerced a response out of her before she could drift away from him. JJ’s fingers switching to figure eight motions as she arched her back with a particularly loud yelp of his name then returning to the previous movement before she had time to adjust. Watching her so worked up had his cock aching to find its way back into her. His precum was forming a new stain in his boxers from the intensity of their hushed words and the symphony of her fluctuating breaths and resounding moans. He wanted to sheathe himself with her cunt until she become too stupid to speak almost as much as he enjoyed watching her surrender her satisfaction to him. “All I.. All I could think about was you.”

“Fuck,” JJ cracked, steadily building up the momentum so that he was rubbing his clothed dick against her. “Bet you would’ve let me rail you in front of them- let me clean your soaked pussy and then fuck your throat dry,” he grunted finding the release he was desperate for as he slid in the slit of her ass. The sensation flooded every fiber of her being, words bringing out her kinks as confirmed by the tightening of her pussy around him. “Yes,” she admitted with watering eyes. JJ’s control was slipping, acting like a teenage boy with raging hormones as he dry humped her desperately spurred on by her confession. She was open just the perfect amount for his hard tip to probe against her tight back entrance. The fabric of the boxers between them being the only thing stopping him. Her eyes were the only thing that moved to find his darkened ones in a wary haste. By the quick lock of their gaze, her wide eyes told JJ those were uncharted waters. “I’m gonna destroy your ass next.”

All it took was the exquisite combination of an adjustment of his finger and a brush of his nose against her cheek. The lively movements of his rutting alongside the lewd promise of exploring more of her body. Another meaningful jab at her bundle of nerves and she was seeing white hot fury littered with black specks behind her eyes. “Holy fuck JJ,” she panted with a whine, losing any thought process in the climax that made her nerve endings burst. The unexpected strength she had to close her legs forced JJ’s knee from its place but his fingers didn’t lose the relentless pace. She rode out her high with sharp breathing, crying his name out through the ripples of her orgasm. Her entire body squirming during his softening pace to ease her back.

He issued an uncanny amount of praises into her ear that she was only able to hear the end of. Gulping air in chunks to feed her lungs. JJ was absolutely gone for her, his insides doing cartwheels at the sound of his name during her apex. The way her face twisted, body turning into a writhing mess, it was all thanks to his doing. (Y/N) didn’t notice him all-consumed by her, absorbing every ounce of her undoing. Her hand that wasn’t wrapped in his arm, reached over to grip his hair that had sweaty ends matted to his forehead. “Doing so. fucking. well. f’me, such a good girl,” he praised with repeated eskimo kisses to her cheek. The neglected emotions seeping out through the affectionate action were far too much to handle in the daze. She wanted to scream from the overpowering feeling.

JJ slowed his movements to give her a moment to calm down. His lips took advantage of her tilted head to curve around her jawline and press gentle kisses that made seemingly soft impressions on her skin. He had initially intended on making this an entire night thing, but it has been almost an entire night. His greediness couldn’t ignore that she almost rode off into a space he couldn’t reach her at. And that his cock was in dire risk of ceasing to exist.

When her eyes became more focused and face met his, their heads tilted to clash together. Any instructions JJ had for her became mute as she read his mind and flipped her body over without breaking the kiss. A lip-numbing, teeth clashing with need, tongue fighting kiss that took away any breath she had managed to catch. It recharged her drained energy to full power.

His hand moved to brutally squeeze at her other boob. Their bodies pushing one another back with every frenzied attempt to be closer. His head would force her to bend her neck backwards as he lifted up into her before she was leaning forward and putting him in the same position. Retreating only to catch a second of air before going back to the same. It was in the middle of the disorder that JJ was able to dislodge his boxers from his body. (Y/N) maneuvered out of the last piece of clothing that was now being unjustly held accountable for the fact that she just couldn’t get close enough. He flipped her onto her back, bleeding into the slot between her legs that he would swear was made for him.

JJ propped up onto his elbows to break the kiss, lungs in need of taking in air. She moved to chase him with her lips but he rose up higher making her head plop back down. (Y/N) let out a disgruntled noise, about to break out into hives if he didn’t get inside her. Her body was sore, close to surpassing her limit but she wanted to feel full of him. Wanted to him to use her to reach levels of pleasure that he hadn’t experienced yet. But his eyes did a soft lulling once over of her naked body, halting her pleas. Months of playful prodding at the other, lingering glances, and shyly stealing innocent touches at random times had all progressed to this day. To the moment that he could take in all of her, in every way possible.

Then he repeated it. Analyzing. Memorizing. Mulling over every detail that might seem insignificant to someone else but it was everything to him.

Now that he was above her, the only thing he was capable of doing was concentrate on every detail of her body. The curvature of her perky boobs, the dampness pooling at her core, the glossy look in her eyes. His hand moved flat down her stomach, leaving a trail of tingles behind. The way she let her body be conquered by his touch left him speechless. After spending what felt like a lifetime living in the shadow of her presence, his chest was close to caving in under the reciprocation of his emotions. “You’re gorgeous,” he spoke in disbelief that someone like her would ever let someone like him taint her innocence, but she was anything except that. (Y/N) was his sweet, filthy girl. His thumb grazed against her pelvic bone before spreading her legs onto the surface of the bed to look further down. He caught sight of her pluckered nub poking past her folds, entire vagina slippery with the arousal and cum that was everywhere from the stained sheets to her inner thighs. JJ had to physically hold back a guttural noise stopping himself before he leaned down and stuffed his entire face into her.

She gnawed on her reddened bottom lip, overwhelmed with the admiration and desire in his eyes. “J,” she pleaded softly, close to liquefying under the fortitude of his stare. It was only JJ that had her mewling, entrapping her in a bubble of fantasies and a four letter word dangerously close to spilling from her lips with just a glance. The intensity of the raw emotion was close to suffocating her. (Y/N) couldn’t take it any longer, lifting her bottom from the bed to grab his attention attempting to sway him back to the task at hand. The pressing of his knuckles on her bruised inner thigh let her know it worked. His eyes seemed to refocus on her glistening center. JJ’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his length, pumping his length over her pelvic bone. “Look at that baby- that’s how deep I’m gonna be,” he taunted, the end of solid member close to her belly button. Before she had time to react, he was swiping up her vagina to collect his cum and her juices on his head before smearing it with a downward swipe and strangled, “fuck.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s shaky voice spoke over his, an iron grip forming on the bed sheets at her sides. Her back arched as a breathless moan escaped her when he didn’t stop. Every swipe just barely teased her with the tip sliding past her folds, giving her a minuscule taste only to move away. Her hips moved to meet his but he didn’t show mercy. “So fucking messy. Look so pretty when you’re so dirty,” the corner of his lip tugged up, relishing in her undoing. Inflicting as much torture as he had felt from not being able to just grab her when he wanted to. The sloshing sound was so fowl, so lewd and vicious that it was the only thing they could hear. “Please JJ, need your cock. Need it, I need it so bad, please-.”

“Do you? Never knew you were such a cockslut (Y/N),” he cut her off, one particular swipe against her bundle of nerves tightened the muscles in her belly. The unappeasable JJ was back, the one that knew what spots to hit inside of her. Even though he was close to cracking as evident by the way his pace lapsed, he still kept himself in check to drive her mad. And it worked. It sent her into a rant of incomprehensible pleas. (Y/N) was teary-eyed, turning into a puddle under his attack. JJ’s dirtiness had her leaking, mind fuzzy in an unexplainable way. She wanted nothing more than to please him again. (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s ever felt like this before. Like she would cry and beg and offer anything she could to get JJ’s cock inside of her.

“So fucking greedy for more even though I fucked you already. Guess I didn’t do a good enough job, huh? Should I just stop then?” JJ taunted her in a coo that made her shake her head frantically. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, the desperation in her eyes would’ve done the job in a matter of seconds. “Yes- wait… no- JJ,” (Y/N) whined unable to put the words together. She wanted to say he was crazy. That of course he’d done a fucking phenomenal job. That she feels floaty and would wail if he stopped right now. There was just no way she could use so many words at once. That stupid smirk on his face proved he was just trying to be a complete menace right now. “Just a dumb Princess for me now,” he sounded like he’d won a prize, like he was awarded some major accomplishment.

JJ laid his body over hers like a blanket, shielding every part of it and effortlessly snuffing out her panic. His composure was rapidly deteriorating, matching her need for their bodies to fuse together. His tip slipped between her puffy folds, hearing her stutter. “There?” JJ’s hot breath tingled her lips at the new proximity. (Y/N) nodded, hands suddenly coming to life from next to her to feel over his honey tinted pecks. “There,” that was definitely a word she could formulate as he paused to capture her eyes. The rest of the world stilled around them.

JJ buried himself past her resistance, stretching her open until the front of his thighs connected with the inside of hers and ripped a groan out of himself. He was convinced the ethereal feeling of her walls confining him was the same one people felt upon arriving to heaven. Before he could even move, her ankles met above his butt. She was a mess of pleas and whimpers, only trying to get JJ deeper into her as if his head wasn’t already pushing against her cervix and turning her into mush. He moaned against her lips, both touching but wide open against the other from the intensity. She was so wet and easy to slide slip into without prep. Still tight and constricting around him even after their encounter. No matter how hard it was to do, JJ’s blue swirls prompted her to keep her eyes open. He refused to look away as his hips pulled away gradually only to thrust forward again. And then again.

“Fuck,” JJ grunted, this time setting a slower yet unimaginably rough pace. He rocked into her with every ounce of strength he had left. Her fingernails found refuge in the indent between his collarbone and shoulder, digging in so harshly there’d be crescent moon impressions left over. While his found refuge in the roots of her hair, tangling into the long wavy strands. JJ used that grip to strengthen his thrusts. He could see it in her fragile features, the cloudiness in her eyes, and the airy moans that left her. She was almost gone and he’d barely even gotten started with her. “Guess what (Y/N)? You’re just taking it at this point, letting me do whatever the hell I want and fuck my cum back into your cunt like such a good little whore.”

(Y/N) keened at his vulgarity, soaking it in, the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder came to life. Roaming every inch of his body from the defined lines of his torso to the tensed muscles on his shoulders. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that properly, to get drunk on the smooth skin that she’d been aching to wander for months. He was worth painting in this moment, sweat beading on his skin, building at the tip of his nose, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, perfectly shaped lips slightly parted, darkened blue eyes refusing to look anywhere but her. She could’ve came just from the sight.

He was becoming more and more vocal at her unabashed discovery of his body and the new emotion swirling in her eyes, moaning deeply against her lips. This wasn’t the same as their raunchy quickie in the Twinkie, here he could dig into her until his head was visible at her stomach and repeat the motion for hours. Pull out when they got close and then start right back up as soon as they came down if he pleased. It would be such a fat lie to say that he wasn’t getting off on her wandering touch and dreamy look, the way it seemed like she’d been longing to have him near. JJ adjusted the tiniest bit to increase the torturously deep thrusting while still maintaining a calculated speed that had her seeing stars. “Yes, yes,” (Y/N) whimpered out trembling as her fingers paused at his hips to squeeze. Her hypersensitive center was clamping down on his throbbing dick welcoming the new depth.

JJ was jabbing at her cervix ruthlessly, sliding against her velvet walls, reaching crevices she hadn’t known existed. Hitting the spot inside of her that sent her heels digging into the bed and toes curling. And like the criminal he was, JJ’s hand found the crook of her left knee forcing her leg up to reach even deeper. His balls constricted, all too close to finishing. “That’s it, yeah- yes- right there,” JJ was deaf to everything except the obscene sloshing sounds coming from between them and the impure filth intertwining with their muffled words. It was the only thing that could be heard from her room.

“JJ I-,” her high pitched whine fell off, not able to recall what she had intended to say. The heat in her core was seconds away from snapping like a rubber band. He was clouding every inch of her mind and every corner of her body. (Y/N)’s senses were experiencing a dramatic overload that left her repeating one single name in her mind. JJ. “I know- I know pretty girl,” he soothed patronizingly, walls tightening around him at the use of a pet name. He couldn’t help the grunt and snap of his hips upwards. “You’re so close (Y/N). Squeezing- fuck- my cock. Want me to fill your pretty little pussy again?”

Her hands shot out to grab at his muscular back, clawing lines down the smooth, fresh skin that had him hissing. JJ lost it, the sensually deep pace he had maintained turning into sloppier thrusts as she marked him this time. His shark necklace knocked into her chin with every upwards slam into her. The sight of it dangling down his neck was a turn on by itself. “Answer me,” JJ’s tone was dominant, the hand in her hair yanked at it as he made her glazed over eyes focus on him and not the necklace. His face was almost red, eyes dark and demanding as his hair tickled her forehead. “You need my cock and cum Princess, but do you want it?” JJ slammed into her, emphasizing every choice word, “You want me? I’ll make you cum right now, if you tell me who you want (Y/N).” JJ didn’t have (or want) to say his name since they both knew who he was referring to. Who the two choices were. His entire mind, body, and soul ached to know the answer and the devil on his shoulder used this moment to get it.

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. The endorphins washing over her through his cruelly delicious attack made it hard to string a sentence. But the response was all too easy. He owned her. Even if karma was righteous and she never got the chance to give her whole self to him sexually and emotionally, JJ still held claim to her heart and pleasure no matter how much he doubted it. “Yo-,” she didn’t have to finish it. JJ’s arms wrapped under her shoulders, holding his body against hers until they could feel their hearts pounding inside. He jerked his hips into her, surpassing the rhythm he had set for himself. He was barely pulling out at this point, only an inch or two escaping before he was plunging back into her. That was all it took for both of them to fall apart.

His pelvic bone pressured her clit in just the right way for her eyes to roll to the back of her head. (Y/N)’s jaw went limp, hands finding JJ’s blonde locks and clinging for dear life as every single muscle in her body clenched. Her fifth orgasm of the night hit her like a car crashing into a brick wall at two hundred miles per hour, lifting her into a blissed out state with the wracking waves of pleasure. She shook in his grasp, reaching a high like no other as everything went silent around her. A broken high pitched noise and his loud moan vibrating against her is the last thing she heard.

JJ felt his cock squeezed by her spasming pussy, sending him over his own edge a second later. His mind fully warped around the sensation, eyes squeezing shut. “Holy.. fuck,” he exclaimed in a raspy voice while bulldozing into her in sync with his knee moving upwards and holding her lifted leg against the bed harshly. Their peaks magnified by the rawness of their feelings that had boiled over. Thick spurts of JJ’s cum coating her insides as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. Bright dots littered his vision from the vigorous orgasm that claimed every part of him from the bottoms of his feet to the vein protruding in his neck.

Neither one of them even realized when JJ’s thrusts became lazier, losing energy as he came down. His pants coming out short and heavy onto her skin. The arms that had wrapped around her weakened their hold from the exhaustion setting in. He stilled at some point, breathing in the sweat of their sins and the scent of her floral perfume that lingered on the sheets around them consuming JJ’s senses. Laying with her in his arms still felt like a fever dream. If not for the mess they had made, JJ would’ve let them fall asleep right there. Kept himself snug and warm with her cunt. But he sluggishly lifted himself up instead having a promise to keep, his eyes finding their way to her face.

She was looking straight through everything in her line of sight like she was in a dreamlike state. That’s when he noticed how relaxed her body was beneath him, the shallow breathing. She’d been too quiet and hadn’t even lifted a finger to touch him. “Hey (Y/N)?” JJ murmured bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently, caressing it with his thumb. He scanned over her face in confusion. It took a moment to realize it only because he couldn’t really believe it. More so doubting his capabilities. But seeing how far away she looked, JJ had to know he had fucked her into subspace. “(Y/N)?” JJ repeated a little louder realizing if he had, he certainly didn’t know how to pull her out of it. Panic began to settle in as his other hand went to her hair again, stroking through it with care and tenderness. “Hey Princess come back for me? It’s JJ,” the thought of having to call the one person who might know made him want to bury his fist in the closest wall.

She blinked once.

The hands offering solace and comfort were the first things she felt.

Then she blinked twice.

His honey-like voice urging her to return to him right before the glowing stars stuck to her ceiling began to look brighter.

Then finally her unfocused eyes were looking back at him. The fingers tangling through strands of her hair with a sense of uneasiness and his gentle voice asking for her was the only thing that managed to reach her. (Y/N) had never felt like that before, like she was transcending elsewhere. An out of body experience that she’d be unable to describe if asked. “JJ?” she mumbled, breathing a little heavier now. “What happened?” she questioned as he looked at her with sudden bewilderment which made her a little nervous. “You don’t know what happened? You’ve never reached subspace before?” She could hear it in his voice. The surprise that she’d done it with him and the boost of ego that came with not having done it with John B. The blush on her cheeks spread quickly, eyes closing as she buckled under his intense stare. (Y/N) was still basking in the glow from their shared orgasm which made it harder to think but she knew the answer.

She truthfully never had. There was times with John B she thought she might, but she’d been laced with uncertainty. (Y/N) would slow them down before her mind could wander off. It was always what she considered to be an irrational fear since John B would realistically never let something happen to her, but with JJ she had willingly let it happen. No, subconsciously, let it happen. Her body hadn’t fought it at all. “I’ve- no. I’ve never done that,” she admitted in a whisper looking anywhere but him. But his fingers found her chin, tilting her head back to him so their eyes could meet. The lust was replaced with something that (Y/N) had never seen in them before. Something she would call love if it didn’t sound absolutely insane. JJ Maybank in love with her. “S’not a big deal,” she tried to act like it wasn’t but it certainly felt like it.

JJ nodded carefully, acting with caution as she retreated back into her thoughts. He knew her too well by now. When things scared (Y/N), she’d pull away from them. She’d let her overthinking do the work before risking herself getting hurt. He didn’t want to push her back into her shell now. Not now that he had gotten a taste of her. That he had managed to open her up more than. Usually it was him running from any form of commitment, yet here he was practically salivating for it. “Yeah,” he sounded unconvinced but (Y/N) was glad he didn’t dwell on it. He winced as she shifted, his softening member grazing against her walls making her eyes flutter and plump lips part. “Tired?” JJ’s softness wasn’t easy to ignore considering she was used to his hard exterior hiding his emotions. They hadn’t actually gotten to this part earlier. JJ had to rush back before John B suspected anything while she had given herself the mercy of a couple of minutes to gather herself.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed out letting her eyes close softly, still feeling the aftershocks of her intense orgasm and hopelessly attempting to run away from the thoughts in her mind. JJ did know her too well. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she felt JJ pull out, another round of their juices sneaking down between her crack and onto the bed. She might have to change the whole mattress honestly. JJ had to bite back an audible noise that wanted to spill out from the sight of it. His shiny, slick dick twitched below him. After cumming twice, he doesn’t understand how she holds enough power over him to illicit a response like this. JJ was capable of fucking her again if given the opportunity. But her sleepy eyes gave her away. They were both exhausted.

He moved farther away, only to pick her up bridal style from where she lay earning a low gasp. “What’re you doing?” (Y/N) mumbled, lacking the strength to fight him off at this present time. Her arms wound around his neck quickly in fear of diving headfirst into her oak wood floor but she had a feeling he wouldn’t let that happen. The muscles in his arms flexed as he walked her into the bathroom, only confusing her more. “I owe you a bath,” JJ stated like it was obvious when he saw her bewildered expression, leaning down to sit her onto the bathtub gently. Her heart felt tight in her chest having completely forgotten about her bath. All in all, it would’ve been pointless had she taken it earlier with JJ always getting his way.

She watched as he leaned down to switch the warm water on, closing the drain when it was at a nice temperature. The water crept through her toes first before touching the underside of her thigh. (Y/N) sighed at the way it soothed her aching skin and throbbing mound. He went to push the lid down on the toilet, eyeing it and lifting an eyebrow when it lowered gently. Kooks, he thought instantly. JJ turned to face her and take a seat. “You’re not getting in?” The question startled him, like that’s not what he’d been planning on doing whatsoever. “Uhm- I can… Figured I’d just give you one so you could get to bed and I’ll go after,” there he went again, tugging on emotions that she’d spent months hiding under a rug. She couldn’t get it through her head, why JJ was evoking a reaction from her that she didn’t know existed, one that didn’t compare to John B. If she thought she had loved JB then what was this? Fooling herself into believing that words during sex were simply just that was becoming impossible.

“I mean- s’a bit silly? I’m already in here.. You need sleep too. Might as well get in,” she tilted her head slightly, glancing at him with such fondness that could take his breath away. JJ swallowed as he stood up and slid inside behind her, finding the same relief in his joints that she had. She scooted backwards until their bodies were touching, laying back onto his solid chest with closed eyes. His body relaxed as she decided what boundaries they could cross outside of sex. They let the running water fill the comfortable silence as they nestled into each other. A conversation about where this was leading was probably in order, but it was easier to remain ignorant. To stay quiet in hopes of stretching out the moment in case it didn’t last.

JJ’s fingers danced on the edge of her thigh until they gradually spread for him. He traced around the bruise he’d left her close to apologizing for the purple emerging but also finding pride in being the one that left it on her. It dawned on him that John B could’ve seen it earlier if he had found out the way JJ had intended him to. His eyes peered over her features curiously, wondering if she had actually listened to his sex induced demand. He felt guilty now that it was John B’s girlfriend he had done that to. (Y/N) who wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it had messed with her own. His long-time best friend who he had betrayed in a way he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. But his feelings for her made him act out in the moment instead of apologize. Made him want to rub it in JB’s face that her pleasure belonged to him. He let out a soft sigh, wanting to ask but lacking the courage. Her body was rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing, being covered by the water as it continued to rise. The bathroom fell quiet again as she peeked her eyes open to extend her foot and turn the handle off.

Once she did, her eyes fell on the place JJ’s fingers were making her skin shiver. With his other hand, he reached for her expensive looking body wash on the edge of the tub and the washcloth dangling close to their heads. She watched inquisitively as he dipped the rag in water squeezing the excess away and poured an ungracious amount of soap which made her giggle. He finally cracked a smile at that, leaving the bottle open as he set it back down. If JJ could get her to make that noise every day, it might just all be worth it in the end.

He began to lather her upper body first, feeling her jump slightly against him when his fingers grazed over her abused nipples. It felt nice though, domestic even. Him washing off the remnants of their day from her body. If only it was as easy to erase the memories. “I have to talk to him tomorrow,” she was the first to interrupt the silence making his smile falter and disappear like it’d never been there in the first place. He didn’t respond for a minute, just continuing to glide the washcloth over her thigh then down. He wiped meticulously between her legs knowing she was overly sensitive there now which was confirmed by the way her thighs went to shut but he stopped them.

“‘Bout what?” he didn’t mean it to be such a broad question but the snort she responded with made him aware of it. JJ knew what she wanted to discuss, he just didn’t know how to ask whether it’ll end with them breaking up officially or attempting to reconcile. (Y/N) wanted to pretend like he was being oblivious on purpose and not like she was reading into what was really going on. (Y/N)’s mind was muddled by the delicate way he was cleaning her off and the zero control she showed around him. Truthfully, she’d been inwardly swaying between the two boys for too long now.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly, watching his hand move down her tilted leg. The air felt heavy with the words spoken during intimacy. After being so forthcoming about who she’d choose, JJ still had an unwarranted fear that she would retract. Blame everything on the fact that she was lost chasing her high. He’d obviously excelled in that department, granting her with several orgasms but who she needed emotionally was still poking at him. It was an unintentionally loaded question that left her feeling anxious inside. “Don’t know yet.”

JJ didn’t speak again after that, he simply kept up his goal of bathing her. The washcloth smoothed over the bite on her shoulder making her whimper and throb at the same time. JJ was astonished with himself, finding it hard to believe he’d been capable of doing actual damage. But (Y/N)’s breathing was a tiny bit heavier, eyes opened halfway as she attempted to conceal how she felt about it. He had picked up on enough of her cues to know she had thrived off of it, during sex and now. JJ inhaled through his nose, free hand moving to tug at his cock slightly that had twitched. He wanted to do more, bite her thighs until his teeth tore through the flesh and tinted her tan with crimson red. Then soothe the skin with his tongue before repeating the act on her other thigh. Now that he had her, his possessiveness had gone into hyperdrive. Satiated only by the idea of his bite mark on her delicate skin.

Once she was covered in suds and the passion fruit smell filled his senses, he used the same washcloth on himself trying to distract and recollect himself before his animalistic kink was mentioned. (Y/N) had lifted up slightly allowing him to clean his front section too lost in her own mind to notice his revelation. She wanted to be the one to wash him, travel his body in the same way but by the time she got done overthinking, he seemed about done. She tugged on her bottom lip softly, opening the drain again to let out the dirty water. JJ sat up behind her and poured shampoo onto his hand before slipping his fingers through her wet hair unexpectedly. His fingers scratched softly at the scalp hearing a content hum from the girl in front of him. This was out of the norm for him, putting so much effort into aftercare. Girls would leave his room before he put any thought into them needing even a shower or rest. He was a dick and a player. He was well aware of that. JJ was also well aware that he wasn’t a dick and a player when it came to her.

He repeated the steps with the conditioner after washing her hair out with the clean water she was filling the bathtub up with. Before JJ could do it for himself, (Y/N) was turning around in between his legs and taking the shampoo from his grasp. She wouldn’t let the chance slip through her fingers. “You’ll smell like me,” she warned with a teasing smile softening the worry etched in their faces. JJ just stared at her. The lines on her forehead, the curve of her button nose, the undeserving kindness she showed him. Then he shrugged in the same manner she had. “Good,” he replied without a second thought to it making her blush reappear on her cheeks and down her neck.

(Y/N)’s soft hands ran shampoo through the blonde forcing his eyes to shut and an embarrassing moan to escape. But she giggled again. An onslaught of butterflies in his abdomen making him feel queasy. How could he really feel bad for his actions when everything inside of him turned into mush around her. “Never had someone wash your hair before?” It was supposed to be a joke but JJ gave her a small nod as he let his body relax from her touch. “Guess it’s a night of firsts,” he murmured reminding her that he’d been the first to drop her. She let out a shaky breath as he sunk into the water to wash off the shampoo.

He lifted out from the water, barely having a chance to rub the water out of his eyes before soft lips were finding his. There was no delay as he kissed her back, arms wrapping around her loosely to pull her closer. He straightened out his legs so that she could slide onto his lap with ease. Her fingers tangled in his hair that now looked a little darker from the water. They tugged tentatively, willing him to open his mouth for her. Her chest pressed against his just a little tighter as they deepened the kiss. He relinquished control under her, letting her continue to guide the pace they were moving at. Her tongue slid against his, tasting him.

The kiss grew lazy, mouths moving against one another for the sole purpose of being able to in the private confines of her bathroom. His hands found the curves of her waist, sliding over them to her back and then down to grab handfuls of her ass. He lifted her closer to him centers aligning as she gasped into the kiss. She moved slightly but one of JJ’s hands found sanctuary wound around her throat. He pulled (Y/N) back to him, lips melting into a more meticulous kiss. He licked between her lips once, then twice with a particularly jarring squeeze to her ass cheek. She complied more willing than she gave away. JJ’s tongue circled hers, groaning as she began to pull away. (Y/N) kept their forehead and noses connected. “J?” she mumbled resting her palms on his torso and digging her fingers in softly.

“Yeah?” he breathed out reaching forward slightly in attempt to catch her lips again but she didn’t let him. “Conditioner?” she asked which made him chuckle and shake his head slightly without pulling away. JJ kept his hands in place and used them to stand up with her, water pouring down from both their bodies while she scrambled to find a grip on his shoulders. “You think my dad buys shampoo and conditioner? Think I’m good with shampoo,” he didn’t mean it like that, but the pang of guilt and sadness hit her nonetheless. JJ didn’t even bother to empty out the bath water just to check that no more was falling in, ignoring her chirps of protest once he led them out of the bathroom.

“JJ- my bed. I swear-.”

“Swear what?”

He hovered her above the clean side of the mattress, a mischievous smirk finding its way. “I-I..,” she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal fast enough before he was dropping onto the bed with her and laying them down. (Y/N) wanted to be mad but a laugh is what came out instead as he tugged her close against him, facing one another. “Too slow,” he deemed letting the pillows pave a way to the drowsiness kicking in. He didn’t expect it to happen so quickly but he really was worn out. JJ’s blue eyes began to flutter in front of her and she laid her hand on his cheek gently. All it took was that for them to close completely.

(Y/N) took in this freshly washed version of JJ getting comfy in her bed. She’d be in so much trouble if her dad caught them. He was used to John B. Accepting of his daughter dating a Pogue because they’d become well aquatinted together while working on The Druthers. But JJ Maybank? Son of the town drunk who was notorious for stealing and picking fights with anyone in his life including JJ? He’d have a heart attack from his hatred toward Luke and JJ, who he had already had a couple of run ins with at the Island Club. Although, no matter how much trouble she could get into, he still looked unbearably cute releasing soft puffs of air her way.

“Look whose tired now,” she teased as he fought to keep himself awake through the rubbing of her thumb and the welcoming satin feel of the pillowcase. JJ mumbled incoherently switching between the comfort her hand offered and the darkness looming. He slipped further into the vulnerable limbo of sleep when he spoke next. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).”

The words hung in the air as he finally drifted off, snores interrupting the thudding off her heart in her throat. It was bittersweet to hear him utter the words her body craved from him. What she felt for John B didn’t come close to this. She would be in denial if she didn’t face it. (Y/N) didn’t see any plausible way to make this work though, even if she wanted it to. John B and JJ were as thick as thieves. Best friends for life. She had already come between that and caused enough damage. If she chose one of them now, their friendships would never be the same. Between any of them, not just the three that were now stuck in a love triangle.

With the weight of the world on her shoulders and the peace offered by the warmth he radiated, she let herself be taken over by the same darkness. After a long, perplexing day, both of them were drained mentally and physically. Any apprehension she felt could wait till tomorrow. Not even her overthinking could keep her up tonight. And if JJ fell asleep remembering that he hadn’t mentioned John B’s name again the whole night, well. He kept it to himself.

*****

“(Y/N)?” she heard faintly making her snuggle further into the damp sheets and comforters that were colder now without the presence of body heat at her side.

“Five more minutes,” she urged in the haze not wanting to awaken just yet but the voice was persistent and annoying on the other side of her door. Her doorknob rattled as the intruder attempted to open it which is what made her stir finally. “Five more- (Y/N) get up,” Rafe’s frustrated voice rang from the outside of her bedroom which made her eyes peek at last. Instead of being met with an empty room though, JJ was standing in front of her bathroom with wide eyes, her toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and low-hanging boxers. “Dad said you were supposed to come to the country club with us. Hurry up,” Rafe rushed her assuming she’d been in the process of getting ready when she had completely forgotten.

(Y/N) had promised she’d go to dinner with them Saturday afternoon since she’d been spending so much time with John B and her friends on The Cut. She had never slept into the afternoon though. With a quick flicker of her eyes to the clock that read 4:56 P.M. and back to a half naked JJ, memories of yesterday flooded her. Any tiredness that remained was long gone now as she shot up from the bed, holding the comforter to her naked chest. “Uhm- yeah,” (Y/N)’s called out more firmly now that she was fully awake. “Tell dad I’m not feeling well- I’ll go to dinner tomorrow.” There was a pause on the other side of the door as JJ took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

“Is John B in there with you?” Rafe accused which made JJ’s fingers twitch with jealousy. He had to refrain himself from calling out to him and making it clear that it was him and not John B who had the privilege of waking up at her side this morning. “God Rafe no,” (Y/N) claimed in exasperation, irritated with the way this conversation with going. She shouldn’t feel guilty about the flash of anger in JJ’s blue eyes but she did. “I was just out late at The Boneyard. Got a massive hangover. Tell him I’m sick,” (Y/N) lied but it was the only thing that she knew would convince him. They had seen each other in passing last night so there was no reason Rafe wouldn’t believe her. It seemed to work though as he huffed from the other side.

“And you’re still the favorite?” He asked rhetorically and bitterly as heavy footsteps began making their way away from her door hinting at his departure. They both waited another minute before visibly relaxing now that they weren’t caught. She moved her attention back to JJ who made his way into the restroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth out. There were bright, red gashes down his back making her breath hitch as she realized she was the blame. She tried to shake the thought away, ignoring the stirring in her pit. Like she had enjoyed staking her own claim. (Y/N) paid attention to what she should be disgusted in instead. JJ was using her toothbrush, the one she’d been using daily for the last month. But it warmed her heart a little that JJ hadn’t minded using it. He was so calm, walking around her room and using her things like he belonged there. Yesterday she had woken beside John B in the Chateau and today she had JJ in her bedroom on Figure Eight. Oh how the tables had turned.

It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).

The words made their way to the forefront of her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip watching him. He turned to her with a nonchalant, unreadable expression on his face. “So round 3?” He joked as he threw the hand towel he used to dry his face across his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of her. The way his eyes scanned her body hidden by the covers made her question whether it was indeed a joke or not though. The area between her legs reawakened from the way he hungrily looked her over like she’d been served to him on a silver platter. It became obvious rather quickly that they couldn’t be alone anymore without succumbing to the temptation.

“No,” (Y/N) said adamantly as she stood up dragging the covers behind her and retrieving a matching lavender lace bra and panty set to wear. She moved to the closet after a quick slam of the drawer and found jean shorts with a simple white t-shirt to wear. “You’d look better in mine,” JJ hummed from where he stood checking her out as she bit back a snarky remark and evaded the idea of herself in his clothing. It seemed as though they were back to normal, pushing until the other broke. Clearly last nights words were lost to the night. (Y/N) turned to make her way towards the bathroom acting unbothered with the tips of ear feeling a little hot and heart skipping a beat in her chest. He made no effort to move out of her way, just grinned with entertainment. His favorite past time was pushing her buttons until she snapped. This time pushing her buttons held a new type of reward that he wanted to relive a dozen times over.

(Y/N) scoffed at him though, squinting her eyes in mock anger to see if he would budge. But he simply peered down towards the sheet covering her chest and leaned closer to her. “I said-,” his thumb running across her bottom lip made her falter. The want in his eyes was pouring into her all too quickly. She was trying to make sense of this situation she had landed herself into but JJ made it easy to lose track of everything. Her heart and body yearned for things that she wasn’t allowed to have. She couldn’t explain how she had let herself be roped into the mess that is JJ. He was too good at reminding her though, lowering his hand down her jaw to her throat. He closed the space, tightening his fingers and feeling the jump in her pulse.

It was that small detail that made him act. “I know what you said,” he murmured before whirling them around so that her back hit the wall next to the door. His hand rested above her head, effectively trapping her against his body. “You said no… But you’re just so reactive,” he claimed as his leg slid between hers. The position mirrored the one from last night lighting the flame of arousal with memories and nothing but the thin sheet covering her as his bare thigh rubbed against her core. JJ felt it immediately, the wetness seeping through and making him groan quietly. Her breathing was already picking up, cheeks becoming flushed in a matter of seconds. “See Princess? I know what you like,” he did. In a matter of twenty four hours he had picked up on every cue that gave away what made her tick. “Like when your dad woke me up knocking on the door. I was so hard,” he pressed against her harder, “I know you would’ve liked me waking you up by stuffing you full of my cock.”

“JJ..,” she moaned his name without thinking moving her hand to grip at his wrist in a warning. Her knees wanted to give out under her from the indecency he was spewing. He leaned down to feather his lips across her ear feeling her tremble against his body. “Should’ve made you scream daddy so he knew who owned his daughter now,” JJ whispered with a menacing squeeze that made her whimper, breaths coming out short. She would’ve been on the floor now had it not been for his grip on her neck. He almost devoured her the second he felt the damp spot on the sheet grow at his words. His boxers were constricting at a rapid pace now that he discovered a new kink as his lips latched onto her shoulder close to where his bite mark was. “You like that? Like imagining daddy shoving his cock into his sleeping girl?” JJ groaned sending vibrations through her skin that made her body arch into him.

“Fuck- J,” (Y/N) gasped out catching him off guard and shoving him abruptly from where he stood. JJ’s eyes were darker now, taking one step forward ready to pounce before he noticed the fiery look she held. His chest was rising and falling now fighting himself from reaching out and taking her again. “I’m serious. Last night was sex. That’s all it was, okay? We spent months playing this little game and it was bound to happen. Now it’s out of our system,” it was a lie when she said it, they both knew it, “and it doesn’t have to happen again. I have to go apologize to John B.” She moved to the bathroom and closed the door behind herself with a loud thud before he had the chance to rebuttal. She leaned back into it closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

(Y/N) hadn’t intended to be so mean with her words but he wasn’t listening to her and she needed him to remember why he hated her before they met. It was easier to have JJ hate her. If he did, she wouldn’t be going through all these conflicting thoughts in her head. She suddenly wished her mom was still here. She would have had the best advice for her. It probably would’ve gone something along the lines of follow your heart but her mom hadn’t met JJ yet, the culprit of her swaying heart. (Y/N) sighed rubbing her entire face as if that would somehow wake her up from her nightmare.

After a moment of alone time to calm her unfurling heat, she got dressed with the clothes she had brought into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess from where she had fallen asleep with it wet so she most definitely had to brush it. The memory of them in the bathtub made her pause in the mirror. She could still feel his fingers tracing the bruise he had left and the adoring way he had cleaned every corner of her body. He didn’t deserve her attitude yet she had given it to him anyways. No matter how much John B was probably blaming JJ, it was ultimately her fault for giving into the desire. It was such a frustrating notion to her that she wanted to punch the mirror in front of her but she’d end up hurting herself more than accomplishing anything.

Her moment of alone time turned into twenty minutes of stress-filled pacing. JJ’s wary knock at the door is what snapped her out of it. She ran a hand through her wavy hair before opening it and finding JJ wearing his outfit from the night before with concern written all over his face. JJ knew he had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment when she strutted around with nothing but a sheet on. She had that power over him, to rile him up without actively doing anything. JJ still wanted to give her any necessary space before trying to speak to her but she was taking too long and he was frightened by how often she fell victim to her doubts. “You okay?” he checked in with her, scanning her face which was devoid of any clues as to how she was feeling. His hand tentatively reached up to brush some hair behind her ear gently making her heart do somersaults. “Yeah,” she mumbled unable to resist nudging against his hand to melt into it as a small peace offering, bathing in the warmth his body offered her.

She was supposed to be angry, shoving him away. But the whirlwind going on inside of her tugged her from one side to the other. JJ kept his hand there, soothingly rubbing circles into her cheek. He was still cautious as he stepped closer to her, to wrap an arm around her delicate waist and better angle his hand. Her eyes never left his as she allowed him to bring her into his embrace. (Y/N) wanted to fight against it inside but her body melted into his without letting her second guess it. “I’ll go talk to JB with you,” he finally told her after a minute or two of calming her down. He already behaved like a coward leaving the Chateau before things got out of hand. Which meant JJ had to go and at least try to apologize and own up to the fact that he just should’ve gone about things a different way. He didn’t know how well that’d fare over or how he’d handle John B’s valid attitude towards them, especially her, but he would try nonetheless. At least that’s what he also told Kie last night. But he kept that conversation to himself for now.

Him joining her was shocking, enough for her eyes to swirl with uncertainty. “JJ- I don’t know. What if it’s not a good idea?” she mumbled then, her hand fisting his shirt as the anxiety of what was about to occur began to eat her up. If there was something she struggled to keep within, it would be the tell-tale sign of her nerves. Her heartbeat would run amuck and the nausea would hit her in a way she could barely keep her balance. This time instead of needing a Zofran it was JJ who helped keep her breathing steady and panic attack at bay. His fingers slipped under her shirt in the back, tracing his hand to her hip and offering her a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t care honestly. I’ve got some things I have to apologize for too,” he sighed hoping this could’ve been pushed back maybe just a week. That would give him enough time to settle into whatever this was and break her cement walls down. But she couldn’t live another day knowing how mad John B had been yesterday. It hurt her because she’d been the one to cause so much agony. And no matter what happened, John B still held a place in her heart which complicated things further in her mind. There was a war between her heart and brain that she just wanted to end one way or another. “And I messed up last night. Not with John B but with you. Takes two to tango and I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he added then assuaging her guilt. His fingers ran over her hip bone, circling there for a minute before pressing in slightly.

The look on her face when she walked into her room last night would be engrained into his hippocampus forever. The wet puffy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, broken exterior. He blamed himself for that. For causing her so much turmoil. But he was selfish at the same time, glad that he’d been the one to find her. The back of her mind made it a point to notice that he regretted not being there for her, not the actual sin they committed. This new side of him was frightening yet everything she wanted at the same time. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly as her hip nudged out slightly into his palm, comforted by the soft caressing while also conflicted. Not knowing how to respond to him when she couldn’t process the change in their dynamic. She also knew there’d be no stopping him even if she wanted to.

“We can take my bike, stashed it in some bushes,” the casual words summoned an unexpected laugh from her. She hadn’t thought about how he had gotten to her house last night, too distracted by his unholy mouth and skilled hands. It made sense that he would’ve had to hide the green worn down bike so that nobody called the cops with stupid accusations. A small smile danced on her lips as she pulled away to lead them out of her bedroom. “I’ve never ridden on your bike,” the comment made him return the same mischievous grin while glancing at the hallway.

“Never had a girl besides Kie on my bike,” it shouldn’t have made her feel jealous but God, it was like an accidental flip of a switch, there were so many times she had thought they liked each other. Hearing that she was the only girl to ride with him made her miss a step on the way down the staircase to which JJ’s hand jumped out to grab her arm quickly. A small embarrassed smile shot his way before he let go with a small squeeze to her forearm and she continued down the steps hastily. He noticed it, noticed the unintended affect his words had. But before he could add something else in, a younger girl was walking out of a bedroom at the same time they were approaching the second floor.

Wheezie’s eyes bulged out of her head behind her glasses, looking from (Y/N)’s widened eyes to the frozen stranger behind her. “That’s not John B,” her sister stated the obvious lowering her phone with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She had also been informed by Rafe that their sister was supposedly bed-ridden with a gnarly hangover which didn’t seem to be the case at all. “Nope, JJ,” he introduced himself with a half-assed smile not intending to come across as rude but seriously. Did people have to keep mentioning him? She crossed her arms over her chest with such a wicked smile.

“Okay Wheezie. John B knows so you can’t use that against me,” (Y/N) blurted out immediately recognizing the intentions behind her sisters stance. But the younger girl just smiled wider, taking a pause to come up with something else. “Well dad doesn’t know. He doesn’t let guys spend the night remember?” she reminded her of Ward’s rules to let her know she had them by the balls. (Y/N) cursed under her breath looking down the steps to the first floor before meeting Wheezie’s eyes and running her fingers through her hair. Normally they always got along with minimal issues. But if Wheezie caught a scent of wrongdoing, she was like a dog with a bone.

“Fine. I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me later because we’ve really got to go,” (Y/N) gave in as she stepped down the last step with JJ following suit now that the situation was handled. Wheezie let out an excited squeal running back into her room to surely make a whole list of things that she would make (Y/N) do. The girl couldn’t even help the chuckle that escaped her lips as they walked the rest of the way to the main floor. She had to give it to her sister. Wheezie was indeed too smart for her own good. “I like her. She’s a hustler,” JJ nodded with a serious tone that made (Y/N) laugh a bit too loudly and shake her head. He cracked a big grin, teeth showing and eyes crinkling at the sound that had his heart swelling.

With one last glance up the stairs where her sister resided, (Y/N) headed out the door with a happy smile feeling a little more airy than before. It felt odd to have JJ walking through her house, meeting one of her family members. Her life with the Pogues this summer had been an adventure of a lifetime and she didn’t tend to mix it too much with her home life. Even John B had only come over a handful of times for dinner in the short couple months of them dating. And he really only slept over once or twice. Kie was the exception. They had plenty of sleepovers at both houses. It’s not that she was ashamed of the guys, it was more like she was ashamed of her life. The pointless knick knacks that rich people bought, the amount of empty bedrooms, the sense of entitlement that the people in her life had. Money would always come and go, as long as she had her real family, the Pogues, with her then everything would be alright.

“She’s like my sister though so it doesn’t count,” JJ spoke, bringing her out of her thoughts as they walked down the lawn. (Y/N) glanced over at him with a puzzled look on her face which made him pause at the side gate they were coming up to. She pulled the gate door open until she realized he wasn’t walking through. “Kie?.. She’s like my sister so it doesn’t count… You’re the first girl to ride my bike,” he put emphasis on the word by stepping closer to her, using his knuckle to brush against the back of hers before feathering his fingertips up her arm and shoulder. (Y/N)’s heart began to pound in her chest when she picked up on what he was saying. His fingers continued until he cupped her chin, thumb pulling her bottom lip softly before releasing it and watching it bounce back. JJ was enthralled by the sight and she him.

No matter how much she wanted to release herself from the guilt and kiss him until their lips were sore and raw, (Y/N) also wanted to tell him to quit it. To stop making this more difficult than needed but somehow the world slips away when he’s near. Her bottom lip was lit on fire where the pad of his thumb touched, she was drawn to him like a magnet. His head inched forward almost as if waiting for her to push him away. “J..,” she mumbled reaching her hand up onto his chest, running her palm across it until she arrived at his shark tooth necklace and tugged slightly. She did nothing to pull away from him as the memory of it hitting her chin surfaced and weakened her with the tingles it provoked. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers. His tongue slipped out to lick his bottom lip, purposefully smoothing over hers. (Y/N) tugged hard on the necklace not even a second later unable to refrain herself. Their lips connected, JJ’s hand molding into the curve of her neck while the other got lost in her hair. Kissing JJ felt like the first time every time. It was passionate, breath-taking.

Her knees wanted to buckle in his hold, sensing the adoration mixed in. It was like JJ read her mind, the way he walked her back into the gate. (Y/N)’s back met the searing metal that only added to the heat escalating the temperature of her body. But he didn’t let his hand roam. Instead he deepened the kiss, putting spotlight attention on taking the breath out of her lungs. He explored every corner, tasted the mint of her toothpaste, memorized the way her tongue slid against his. JJ could only focus on the moment, shoving every worry aside with ease. It was the way her fingers brushed the bare skin under his shirt that had him pressing her body into the fence.

(Y/N) gasped, tilting her head to the side away from him slightly to pant for air. JJ just saw the opportunity to kiss up the curve of her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter. Her nails dug into the crook of his v-line just as he reached the spot on her neck that twisted knots in her belly. JJ had to stifle a groan, sucking on the sensitive skin possessively and with fervor as his hand gripped her hair straining her neck as forced it up. He moved with gentle yet frantic urgency, swiping his tongue every so often to hear the mewl that escaped her lips. The pleasure and stinging sensation blinding her from how careless leaving yet another mark on her was. It wasn’t until he was satisfied and she was whining from the discomfort evolving that he pulled back to admire his work ignoring the temptation to see red. His lips parted, short harsh breaths washing over the darkened spot on her neck. (Y/N) let out an involuntary whimper at the feeling, meeting his forehead with hers to sway his attention.

JJ’s hold loosened at the same time a car engine roared through the street. Had cars been passing by the whole time? Neither one had been able to hear a thing besides the person in front of them. He still preferred to focus on the lines and dips of her face over the Kooks driving by. It felt like they were in their own bubble, rid of consequences. But some thought would always creep into the front of her mind as the oxygen seemed to reach her head again. It was only a name. But a name that held enough weight to get her to drop her hand from his shirt. JJ’s eyes flashed with something unreadable as he witnessed the moment she slipped away again.

“So I take it that means you only have one helmet?” It was meant to show indifference and lighten the magnitude of the moment but (Y/N)’s voice wobbled. She would’ve looked away the second she said it but the hand on her chin kept her where JJ wanted. The other one fell to his side aching in a similar way her body did. “It’s yours Princess,” JJ spoke with deeper meaning behind the hint of playfulness. The helmet wasn’t the only thing that was hers, his mouth was, his body, his thoughts, the stupid red baseball cap, especially his heart. Most definitely his heart. She could see it in blue of his irises. The intensity behind his words left her speechless once again. As much as she wanted to read between the lines, there were too many obstacles between them.

It was JJ who finally had to muster the strength to pull apart, his fingers tightening just briefly before letting go of her chin completely. He masked his own disappointment with the only way they knew how to communicate. A devious little smirk emerged at the prominent hickey forming on her neck and he rubbed at his jaw contemplating his work. “Damn, there’s no missin’ that,” JJ chuckled snapping her out of it as her hand flew up to her neck to touch the sore area. She cursed under breath, shoving at his arm slightly with her free hand as she lifted away from the fence.

“I think you’ve marked me enough,” (Y/N) huffed not even wanting to imagine what John B’s reaction would be. The bite on her shoulder and the other hickey was covered by the t-shirt, but this one would take more effort to hide. She flipped some of her hair forward which was temporarily successful. It irked JJ to see her covering up the evidence of his touch. He wanted to behave but his jealousy was ravenous. With a mind of it’s own that didn’t think about anybody else. “Don’t think it’s enough if you can still cover them,” he noted, the smirk disappearing into a thin line on his lips. She rolled her eyes at the comment biting back the urge to remind him she wasn’t his. As much as she wanted to wear it proudly, show all the girls on both sides of the island that JJ had been the one to do this, she couldn’t. (Y/N) simply had to ignore how hot his possessive tendencies were.

“Whatever,” she exclaimed, too flustered to find a witty response. She opened the gate again, not waiting for JJ this time around as she slipped through and began walking to the side of her house where JJ had presumably left the bike. He took just another second before following after her, taking the lead since he was the only one who knew where the bike was actually hidden. They glanced at each other for a meager second before (Y/N) was turning her attention to the oncoming car. JJ looked away, clicking his tongue against the rooftop of his mouth as they came up to one particularly big bush. He disappeared behind it before re-emerging pushing the handles out. (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat now that they were actually about to leave. She felt frozen as JJ casually hopped onto the bike and turned the key. The sound made her jump in JJ’s peripheral view. He turned his head towards her, reading the hesitance on her expression.

JJ reached his arm back to grab the helmet, nudging it into her stomach gently. “Hey it’ll be fine,” he meant both the bike ride and the conversation with John. But he couldn’t really know if it would be so the attempt at easing her was pointless.. She exhaled for a moment, taking in the tenderness that he spoke with and the affection swimming in the oceans of his eyes before nodding. She took the helmet from his grasp to put it on. Her nervous fingers fiddled with the clasp to close it once it was on. It’s not like she really knew how to do it anyways so the jitters kicking in didn’t help. Her inexperience was so obvious that it was embarrassing. But JJ’s rough fingers snuck past hers, pushing them out of the way to clasp it shut with one easy motion. “There,” his voice was kind, devoid of any judgement or ridicule. The stirring in his chest at the sight of her in his helmet further restricted his ability to breathe.

She slipped onto the bike with a shade of soft pink traveling up her neck. (Y/N) made sure to scoot closer, wrapping her arms around JJ’s torso and holding her hands there in preparation for her first ride. The heat of his body was soothing as the apphrension grew. JJ just always seemed to read her perfectly though, giving her hands a small squeeze before putting both of his on the handles and beginning to ride out onto the street. She let out a small gasp at the wind blowing past them when he really started down the road. It was more exhilarating than she could’ve imagined it being. Her senses were hyper alert, aware of every turn and increase of speed.

He was a pro at it though, weaving through cars and traffic with no issue. JJ could feel her tighten her grip every time they got close to another car. Normally he’d tease Kie, riding as close as he could to it just to hear her yell at him. But with her he sped farther away, not wanting to scare her during her right off the bat. This side of himself was just as surprising to him as it has been to her. The boys would prod and tease him until his grave if they found out. JJ had spent so long trying to convince himself that what he felt was just lust and taboo desire. But now these pent up emotions were finally loose and swirling inside of him he struggled to refrain from from acting normally.

(Y/N) did end up raising her head up very slowly at one point to take in the ocean view at their side. The sun was still out, shining down on the water below and giving it a yellow tint behind the clear blue. The rush she got from the wind hitting every part of her body only heightened the beauty of it. It was enough for her to forget the wave of nausea that had been hitting a few minutes ago and the fear that had kept her glued to his back. JJ had caught sight of her in his mirror, admiring the serenity in her features. (Y/N) looked breathtaking with her freshly washed hair flowing back, her eyes filled with peace. He thinks he understood in that moment that what he felt was called love. There was no other word for it but that. There was no tip-toeing around the way his heart felt like imploding in his chest and his lungs felt like evaporating into thin air when she was near.

Just as quick as it happened though, the semi speeding past them in the lane snapped her out of it. She was back into the curve of his back, helmet smushed into the space between his shoulder blades. Hands wound tightly around him.

They continued the rest of the way in silence. The further they got from Figure Eight, the more her body became rigid against his back. It hit her then that it was an extremely bad idea to show up with JJ but it was too late to turn around now. The familiar streets of the Cut came into view reinforcing her panic. Her grip had cemented so much JJ thought she would actually leave a few bruises or wounds behind. “Nothing’s gonna happen (Y/N),” he tried, lacing his fingers with hers for just a quick second and squeezing before having to grab the handle to turn into the Chateau.

The familiar sound of the dirt bike alerted everyone inside to their presence. John B was darting up from his spot on the couch faster than Kie and Pope could even process it. The front door was propelled open against the siding of the house, John B’s eyes narrowing on JJ who was helping his girlfriend off the dirt bike and then unclasping the helmet for her. “You’re fucking joking right now,” John B saw red, anger etched in his entire soul from head to toe. If looks could kill, they’d be dead and buried deep underground. (Y/N) had the thought to at least cover her neck with her hair and then turn away from JJ to confront the fiery brown eyes shooting daggers their way.

“Hey, it’s not what you think JB please. I just came to apologize. We both did,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone to relay just how much she meant it. She hadn’t intended for John B to end up as casualty in the process. She truly hadn’t thought at all in the moment. Kie and Pope came out through the front door to stand behind the fuming man next to them as she took a couple of uncertain steps forward. “Yesterday- that’s not what should’ve happened and I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) pleaded with him but the words couldn’t heal a wound of this nature. Especially not with his best friend standing behind her with crossed arms leaning his bum against the bike looking like a pompous asshole. Her words had stung JJ hard after the revelations they had whispered into the dead of the night. It wasn’t intended to come off as regretful but he couldn’t help but take it as that. Lashing out from the burn of her words, he smirked at John B to provoke him instead of keeping a level head.

“Not what I think? Seriously?” John B seethed not even wanting to voice his deplorable thoughts because they’d be too severe and permanent. He took steps forward to be face to face with (Y/N) but still keeping his distance. His blood was sizzling, eyes pitch-black and somehow losing light by the second. If (Y/N) had thought he was furious yesterday, it had nothing on the anger John B felt with the pair in his sight. “I think you’re just a spoiled Kook that came to experiment with us Pogues. Had fun yet? Whoring around?” John B spat as he kept his focus on her. If he dared to look JJ’s way again he might not be able to restrain himself.

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, taking a step back as Kie tried to rest her hand on the tense muscle of John B’s shoulder to diffuse the tension. Maybe in some way she had come to hear his demeaning words. She felt worthy of them. JJ, however, was the complete opposite. He had managed to keep quiet until know, acting on impulse as he sprung up to shield her from the livid man in front of her. He could accept that John B was more than just resentful, but throwing insults (Y/N)’s way was a line he wouldn’t let JB cross. “Watch your fucking mouth John B. You’re just mad that your little game didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to,” JJ bellowed at him matching his rage with an icy glare, knowing exactly what buttons to press before Kie could set out to cool him off.

JB’s arms ripped out of Kie’s grip in a split second decision, thrusting out to shove at his best friends hard chest with flat palms. It sent him falling back but only provoked him more. JJ looked like the devil. His lips curving into a wicked smile, hair tousled by the wind. Blue eyes were dripping with venom. Quicker than JJ could retaliate, (Y/N)’s small, gentle hands caught the back of his arms before he could stumble into her. “J Please,” (Y/N) begged under her breath into the privacy of his muscular back sounding distraught as she grounded him, “this isn’t why we came here.” He did his best to inhale deeply through a clenched jaw, visibly taking breaths from within to calm himself. It was rare to get him to pull away from the blinding fury once he was absorbed by it but he was helpless, in the mercy of her soft heart. Focusing on the delicate way she tried to soothe him by rubbing small circles into his side. It might’ve almost been enough to end the fight but it only set John B into a spiral witnessing the affectionate exchange. It was now the second time he was reminded of the fact that (Y/N) wasn’t the one winding him down.

“You’re worse than me JJ you know that? Luke Maybank’s kid,” John B landed a low blow that visibly made JJ falter, jaw flexing in rage, “Just another delinquent in the works... ,” he drawled out with a closed fist shove of JJ’s shoulder, the tension skyrocketing around them and pricking the hairs on everyone’s skin. “C’mon John B- this is pointless nothing is getting resolved- we can wait till everyone is ready,” Pope was practically begging as he attempted to tug at John B’s arm. But he was strong-willed and unflinching as he stepped forward to be almost chest to chest to JJ. Blue met brown as their eyes locked, everything eerily quiet. “You think she’s gonna want you?” The vindictive words crashed into him. JJ couldn’t stand being compared to Luke. His dad beat his mom and beat him too and JJ swore that would never be him. And knowing that he wasn’t worthy of (Y/N) was one thing, being reminded of it was another.

Except JJ knew exactly how to retaliate.

His muscles loosened as all the tension was released from his body. A lazy, horrific smile appeared on JJ’s face with cold eyes staring him down. It was a look unlike he’d ever given anyone. Kie was almost quivering just from witnessing it, much less did she want to be on the receiving end of it. He’d spent months pining after her, dealing with with his conflicting emotions, watching his best friend be happy and ignoring his own needs for John B’s sake. But JJ wasn’t going to do that anymore, not when it came to her.

So he knew exactly what to say.

And the color in (Y/N)’s face drained as JJ crept a couple of measured steps until he was standing beside her. She knew what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.

JJ’s fingers trailed over to her hair, flicking it back as he bit his lip to contain the sinister smile. Everyone’s eyes falling on the darkening hickey as (Y/N) felt her cheeks hot, head spinning and eyes blurry with embarrassment and anger.

“Well JB that’s not what she was saying in her bedroom last night. She wanted me a lot..,” JJ chuckled criminally while maintaining a look of pure satisfaction. Making it clear that (Y/N) had not just wanted him, but begged for it. He practically ate up the shock piercing John B’s features. Just to make sure there was no miscommunication, JJ sunk the knife in further for good measure.

“You know.. her bedroom… with those cute glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling?”

It was Kie that gasped before John B reacted. She’d been in (Y/N)’s room plenty of times to know exactly what he was talking about.

Less than a second later, JJ’s jaw made a worrisome cracking noise as John B connected his balled up fist to it. Despite the metallic taste in his mouth, JJ didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and tackle John B to the ground. Both of them snapped, yelling profanities and taking their rage out on the other. He swung blindly, rings jabbing into John B’s abdomen. The taller man winced, before thrusting his knee upwards and digging it into JJ’s chest.

“JJ!”

“John B!”

Both girls kept yelling and risking a hit by trying to get in the middle of them. But it was next to impossible. Pope jumped up to try to intercept but they were both pushed over the edge now. He couldn’t get a single chance through the flying limbs. They had both been stewing in their rage for too long now. John B had been waiting to do this since last night and seeing as he hadn’t been able to because JJ was on Figure Eight, he was only further enraged. “You were my best fucking friend!” John B shouted as he managed to flip JJ onto his back, punching him coldly without measure. (Y/N) cried out and screamed at them, pleading as she watched JJ close his blue eyes. His body went limp, John B holding him up by the grip on his shirt. She recognized what he was doing because she had done the same thing by coming here. They were both looking to assuage their guilt by looking for punishment from the person they had betrayed.

“John B, he isn’t fighting back!” (Y/N) pleaded loudly with a tear-stricken face, catching his wrist before he could swing again. But he was stronger than her, especially fueled by the burning jealousy and wrath at their infidelity. She was no match for him as he landed another hard blow at JJ. “Fight back!” John B yelled into his face but JJ just gave him a lopsided grin, blood snaking it’s way down his chin to his throat and staining the hem of his colar line. He let out a heart-wrenching yell as his fist landed on the grass next to JJ’s head.

Everyone paused.

John B’s heavy breathing broke through the sounds of the crickets.

They just stared at each other while the other looked on. Almost as if they were communicating without saying a word.

Pope decided to use this momentary pause and separate them, latching on to John B’s shoulders to drag him away. It was relatively easy to do considering JB was no longer fighting back. His eyes were swelling with frustration and fury, tears that he was trying to keep in making their way out at an unstoppable pace. Beating JJ to a pulp would be too easy and he wasn’t even getting the satisfaction of the blonde haired guy pushing back. “You were my best friend and you fucked my girlfriend,” he spoke loudly, but more disheartened towards him watching as (Y/N) knelt at his side to check on the bruising eye.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) sobbed to both of them, feeling like this was all her fault. Her fingers swiped softly at the blood pooling under JJ’s busted lip making him wince and her heart tighten. “It’s fine Princess. Takes two to tango remember?” JJ’s voice came out raspy, strained by the pain creeping through his body. His eye squinted, groaning at the uncomfortable throbbing coming from his side. John B had managed to get him quite good but she was right, he wanted to get hit. He wanted to be numb, his guilt could subside knowing that his best friend was able to take out the heartbreak and anger he felt on him.

(Y/N) shook her head though, standing up with the weight of her actions crushing her shoulders. If there was any remedy to this situation, it was to cut herself out of the equation completely. How would they be able to fix anything when just her presence caused these emotions to rupture out of them? She would always be a lingering reminder of their infidelity. Her head tilted to the side, watching Pope and Kie attempt to calm John B. She hadn’t even noticed until now that Kie’s cheeks were as wet as hers. It was just as agonizing to her to see their unit be torn apart. Pope was rattled, feeling powerless to stop them. They had had arguments and fist fights before about nonsense, but nothing this serious. He hadn’t even been able to get in the middle without being injured himself. It was all too much to take in. They were all perfectly fine before she arrived, and now they were more shattered than ever.

JJ observed her features the whole time, was privy to the way she detached herself emotionally to save the rest of them. But he didn’t want her to. He was selfish and greedy, willing to beg John B for forgiveness the rest of his life if it meant that (Y/N) didn’t run away. “(Y/N), hey,” his voice was still rough, but there was an edge of distress. She couldn’t take sole blame for the eruption their behavior had caused. But nothing he could say would really change her mind. There was a distant look in her eye when she focused on him.

He couldn’t even get another word out before she was turning her back to him walking away from them, from her life. Her shoulders were shaking, the reality of her consequences settling in. Her hand moved to cover her silent choked sob, free arm wrapping around herself to grace herself with some comfort. JJ wouldn’t give up on her without putting forth effort though. A beating he could take. Letting her slip through his fingers was something he couldn’t afford. Not when he finally had her.

Had her smiling and laughing at his stupid jokes. He could still hear her sweet giggling in his ear. See the heart-melting smile taking over her alluring features. Had seen her sleeping serenely in the coziness of her insanely overpriced California king, lips parted with a little bit of drool sneaking out. He’d had the privilege of bathing with her, exploring every luxurious inch of skin while quelling the ache in her bones. She had washed his damn hair. The feeling of her careful fingers on him in such an innocent yet intimate moment still drove him mad. The scent of her fruity cshampoo resided, mixing in with the dirt covering his backside as an encouragement to follow her.

“(Y/N), stop,” JJ managed to get out as he stood up at the same time holding his side with one hand where it seemed to hurt the most. The girl didn’t listen to him though, she kept walking with more intent to distance herself. The others were looking on but nothing else was said. John B turned around, refusing to watch any longer as he went back into his home to bitterly find the First Aid Kit. Kie wanted to step toward JJ to check on him but he rushed off, walking as fast he could to reach (Y/N). Pope placed a hand on Kie’s shoulder sighing before nudging her inside. Nothing would be resolved within two days.

(Y/N) ignores his voice calling out to her, shutting out every emotion related to JJ possible. She could return to her ice queen status, embody it once more to bury the agony and enter a state of desolation. But he was persistent, walking after her even as she got further and further away from the house. “(Y/N),” JJ’s voice was calm from behind her but she shook her head trying to will away the oncoming rampage of tears. They had started from the moment the boys started throwing fists and now they had a life of their own. “Hey- I.. I can take you home, you don’t have to walk or get a ride,” JJ tried to pull her back to him by any means but she stopped dead in her tracks. He hadn’t even realizing he was gaining on her until almost running into her when she came to a halt.

“No JJ. Don’t you get it?” she asked without hesitancy as she shifted to face him. JJ saw nothing in her eyes, no glint or glimmer, no hope for their possible future. “We can’t see each other anymore. We hurt people when we’re together JJ,” (Y/N) was stoic, refusing to instill JJ with any false hope. There was no world where they could be an item. Where they could cuddle in front of their friends. Go on double dates. Marry with a best man if it came down to that. As much as she wanted to let go of everything and melt into his stupidly perfect lips, she remained passive. Refusing to acknowledge the love she so obviously felt for him and choosing to endure the pain that would no doubt find a permanent home within her. (Y/N) locked it all away, tucking it deep into a place where it couldn’t reach her.

JJ’s Adam’s apple bobbed while his nose scrunched up, shaking his head in refusal. He looked off into the distance before meeting her stare. His throat felt dry, constricting from the fear accumulating the more she pulled away. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N),” JJ repeated the words from last night, watching as something flashed through her eyes. “I meant that. And you meant what you said. About you wanting me,” JJ reminded taking a shaky step forward before saying fuck all and reaching his hands up to cradle (Y/N)’s cheeks in his hand. He gave her a torturously sad smile, fingers tracing the lines of her cheekbone. “You remember, last night in the bathtub too. I know you do,” he whispered, coming in closer to her, enveloping her senses.

He almost had her for a moment, (Y/N)’s brain cells mushing when he admitted that he did remember his late night confession. JJ’s pure vulnerability and the slightly forceful grip on her cheeks allowed her to rethink for a moment, consider the possibility that they could somehow fix this together. Her own admission had been a forthcoming revelation. More than JJ could’ve imagined when he brought it up. His blue eyes pierced through her, shaky hand gripping at his wrist. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating to be tempted in such a way. Her eyes closed. Knowing the way he was silently begging her every way possible would make her cave.

“It was sex… I was horny and you were too,” (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in her body as the words came out. Her voice monotone and quiet. He was close enough for her to not have to yell it out. “This was nothing,” she continued even as she felt his hands drop from her face. It was daunting, so much so that she refused to see the destruction she was surely executing. Her heart was close to vanishing, entire body going numb. Not only was she losing a second person in the span of twenty four hours, but she was also losing her person. The one person she thinks might’ve been meant for her.

But JJ needed her to face it. He needed her to take in every single aspect of what this meant. (Y/N) wasn’t just taking a break from them, she was leaving. Closing the chapter on their summer together and ending something that had just barely gotten started. “Nothing? I think you’re a liar,” JJ’s temper was rising with her, loathing how she could let her overthinking take control of her life. “I think we’ve both known it since the moment we met. This is real and you’re just fucking scared,” his voice raised, finally showing his disdain for her choices.

(Y/N) dared to open her eyes which was something she’d regret till the end of time. JJ’s face had completely fallen. Her insides twisted, knotting and curling until she wanted to turn around and let out all the contents in her stomach. Which were actually none but eating right now sounded like a joke. The light in his blue irises that attracted (Y/N) to him in the first place had dimmed now. Disrupted by her hasty disregard. His lips were in a thin line, hands balled at his sides, chest rising and falling with every excruciating breath. It took everything inside of her to turn her heart to stone. Telling herself it was for the best.

“I’m sorry JJ,” she finalized the conversation.

Turning away from him and putting this singular moment behind herself.

Allowing herself to believe that they would be better off without her meddling.

The flood resumed down her cheeks now that he couldn’t see her disappearing into the following street. In the very back of (Y/N)’s mind, the little spot reserved for JJ, she still wished he’d chase her once more. Nudge her his way with his electrifying touch, kiss her until it felt like there was a volcano erupting inside of her. She’d say yes to the ride this time. She’d allow him to hold her in bed and soak his shirt with her tears. Even stay the night and every night after for as long as he needed to.

But none of that happened.

There were no footsteps besides her rapidly paced ones. (Y/N) wanted to say she was relieved, but it felt more like the entire universe had disintegrated. Her lungs felt like they were tied and knotted with rope, only able to take shallow breaths. A choice that took her all of two seconds before she was regretting had transformed everything.

If (Y/N) had thought any of this would be easy, the red baseball cap perched on top of her grey chair sent her into another meltdown, knees buckling to the ground with no one to catch her this time.

She’d lost them all.

*****

Read Part 1 here

Feedback/Thoughts welcomed in my inbox! x

If you’d like to be tagged in future posts of this mini-series please join my taglist here🫶🏼

A/N: I’ve literally never written blood play or subspace so I hope I did it justice😭 Don’t know what got into me but possessive JJ is just everything😩

I have another work in my drafts but it’s an anon request so part 3 will be coming later on❤️

Thank you so much for reading whether you came for the smut or plot😭😂! Please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it!💕

John B’s Mini Series Tags: @fishingirl12 @sweetlikerockcandy @imtired0811

General Tags: @dropperyourhnd @leclercch16 @kys4-20

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with-my-calamitous-love · 7 months ago

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I APOLOGIZE IF ITS A LITTLE TOO MUCH, JUST A LITTLE TOO SOON

kirishima x reader

thoughts on how kirishima acts in a relationship

inspired by so american

eijiro kirishima, who texts you goodmorning and goodnight religiously. you're the first person he wants to talk to in the morning and the last person he wants to hear from before he drifts off. his face turns almost as red as his hair and eyes whenever his phone lights up with a buzz, seeing that you've replied to him. he saves your contact with a <3 right next to your name. your photo is a picture he snapped of you wearing one of his tank tops, sitting loosely on you. normally his sculptured biceps fill out the fabric to the brim, but he prefers the way you wear it. he wants to stare at you every time he picks up the phone in the morning to text you.

eijiro kirishima, who lets you help him dye his hair after the third time you insist on it. he feels a slight hint of embarrassment, thinking its un-manly to need help with a simple task, but after the first couple of rounds he insists on you doing it. he loves the way your fingers weave delicately through his hair, touching up his roots and treating him like he’s a glass sculpture. and afterwards while he waits for it to set he’ll help you with menial tasks in return- like finishing your algebra (not that he’s any better, but he means well) or making you a quick dinner. he’s an expert when it comes to self-care, and knows that working out and eating well isn’t healthy if its not accompanied by nourishing your happiness. he knows what candy’s to bring to pick up for you while he’s purchasing his dye, what movies to play in the background while he’s letting his hair soak, and exactly how to hug you when it’s all done.

eijiro kirishima, who becomes a sucker for sappy love songs once you get him introduced to it. at first, he hums along to your playlist in the car. then he’s following the artists you like on instagram and keeping up with their recent music. then it’s actively going out of his way to listen to them because each line about love and longing is about you. he makes a playlist titled [y/n] <3 and its all the songs that have made you come up in his head. little do his gym friends know that he’s streaming the tortured poets department while he’s lifting weights DOWN BAD CRYING AT THE GYM ANYONE

eijiro kirishima, who absolutely loves anything you create. muffins, bread, brownies- you’ve suddenly tested his willpower when it comes to his rigid diet. but he can’t help himself- everything tastes better when he knows you’ve put the time and effort into it. with so many eyes watching the young hero, he often forgets to properly feed himself- which is when you come in, always reminding him to eat. when he’s not looking, you’ll slip an extra treat or two in his bag, and come home greeted with a hug and kiss of gratitude for keeping his tummy full.

eijiro kirishima, who comes to you seeking refuge from his insecurities. he has quirk envy badly, sometimes just staring at the heroes he sees around him and wonders how he could ever live up to them. he feels as though he pails in comparison, not knowing how to articulate his worries into words. sometimes he’ll simply hug you, resting his chiseled chin on your shoulder while a huff escapes his lips. he doesn’t need to say anything because you know him. you know how he gets in his head. so you kiss his temples and remind him that he is exactly how he should be. that he’s enough. enough to be strong. enough to be a great hero. enough to be the red riot you love so much. he’s enough for you. and thats what plants are smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you. it’s enough for him too.

eijiro kirishima, who loves showing you off at the gym. mostly to his friends, who comment on how he seemingly never shuts up about you- but a part of him finds pride in the jealous stares others give him. he almost wants to give them a look of ‘i know, right?’ while they admire your beauty, the way you look when sweat ripples down your skin and your cheeks are flushed pink. but he feels sorry for them. sorry that they can’t have you they he’s got you. his eyes sparkle when he sees you pushing yourself, feeling inspired that he now has someone to be so proud of. he’s always proud of you.

eijiro kirishima, who worries he’ll mess it up with you. that it’s all too good to be true- that theres no way he got so lucky so young. he worries you’ll grow bored, tired, or sick of him. he worries you aren’t as in love with him as he is with you. because eijiro kirishima is so, so in love with you. he knows this is love because he sees more than just a high-school fling, he sees the future. he sees someone he will always run to with open arms. and when you kiss him back, arms wrapped around him in a tender embrace, he gets the feeling that you’re so in love with him, too.

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kookslastbutton · 7 months ago

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iii

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: some time skips (none too huge), oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, lots of introspection, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, themes of abandonment, mention of love bombing, reoccurring nightmares, sleep paralysis, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, death (minor character), life-threatening accident (major character)

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST...don't say I never warned you hahaha. Anyway, once again, I had an amazing time writing this! (although nervous af 👉🏼 👈🏼) Just FYI, there are some time skips as this starts a few weeks after the gala! So to clarify, it’s now 3 months since oc’s divorce was officially finalized, as in done (the process itself took way longer). The chapter continues from there and yeah, the pace is picked up. Okay, let’s go! Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Fresh linen. Warm breeze. The smell and sound of the ocean.

You know this place too well, like a memory you hoped to have forgotten. Why are you here now? You glance around, taking in the familiar details—the blank ceiling above, the soft comforter that curls around your body like silk against your skin, and delicate rose petals scattered at the foot of the bed. It’s exactly as it was before — it feels exactly the same; too quiet, too peaceful, and too good to be true.

The sunlight streaming through the window is blinding, yet it draws you in with a force you can't resist. Carefully, you stand up, your feet meeting the cool wood floor, and you shiver. Each step you take towards the window feels heavier, like wading through water. When you reach the window, you see the sandy beach below, the waves beating rhythmically against the shore. It’s beautiful, but the painful kind.

To the left, a young couple, not much older than yourself, their hands tightly intertwined, as if afraid to let go. To the right, an older couple sitting further up the beach, comfortably silent as they take in the horizon, reminiscent of their many years together. You always dreamt of achieving the latter, yet here you stand, having neither, and the chances of ever obtaining it growing dimmer with each passing day.

For many, this was supposed to be a place of happiness, a symbol of love, promises, and new beginnings, but not for you. For you, it was a cocoon, trapping you in a deceptive comfort. You close your eyes, trying to steady your rapid breathing, yet it doesn’t prove to be of much help. Images from your past that you’ve tried blocking out of your mind time and time again suddenly resurface — the arguments, the tears, the feeling of everything and nothing at the same time.

“You’re up early,” His voice startles you, causing you to spin around in a panic. At that moment, your heart tightens in your chest, and a cold sweat forms on your brow. You thought you were alone. You’re certain of it. Yet the sight of your ex-husband standing only a few feet away, his hair still damp from his morning shower, is enough to leave you completely speechless.

"Why are you here?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

"Why are you here?" he counters, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "Isn't this what you wanted? To remember us, to remember how it felt to be together?”

What? This isn't making any sense. Why is he talking to you as if he were a ghost? Your eyes search frantically around the room until you spot it—the wedding band on his finger. No, not again. You hear yourself plead, but the words don't leave your lips. All at once, the room begins to feel smaller, the walls closing in on you. You're stuck in another manifestation of your past, this time reliving your honeymoon, three years ago in Greece.

"I didn't want this," you say, your voice barely audible. "I wanted to forget this."

"But you can't forget, can you?" he says, stepping closer. “You remember this view. You remember the floors and the walls. You remember that we had our first time together here and promised our devotion to each other."

“That’s not fair, Jungkook," you reply, taking a step back, "it's not fair at all, you left me. You don't get to patronize me like this."

“We both know our marriage came with stipulations, __. So when did I ever give you a reason to stay? Or to love me?”

You’re back in the bed, the sheets now suffocating rather than comforting. The sound of the ocean is louder, more insistent, drowning out your thoughts. You want to scream, to run, but you’re paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, the regret.

"This isn’t real,” you say to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “I’m dreaming, none of this is happening.”

“You can't escape what we had, or what we lost. We’ll always be here, together __, in this place,” he says softly, reaching out to touch your hand.

"No," you whisper, pulling your hand away. "I need to wake up. I need to let go...of you."

The room fades, his figure dissolving into the shadows. The sound of the ocean becomes a distant murmur as you fight to open your eyes. Wake up, please wake up. It's your own pleads chanting in your head. Finally, with a gasp, you awake, the nightmare diminishing like vapor.

“Fuck,” you curse, fingers gripping your sheets, “just another damn dream.” Rolling onto your back, you take a deep breath before reaching out for the glass of water on your nightstand. Its coolness soothes your dry throat. You reach for your phone next, checking the time—4:47 AM. Too early to start the day, too late to attempt falling back to sleep.

Your thumb hovers over Jimin’s name in your text threads. It would be 10 AM where he is. You consider sending a message, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Forget it, you lock your phone and rise from your bed, you’ll go for a walk instead. Yeah, it’s brisk outside, but the fresh air will help clear your mind.

After tossing on your warmest coat and scarf, you head outside, the sun beginning to break over the horizon. At first, you wander aimlessly, lost in thought as you pass the odd person or two on the sidewalk. One individual accidentally knocks into you, yet he's quick to apologize. You easily understand their rush; perhaps they've just finished the night shift and are eager to reach the comfort of home.

You imagine their loved ones who must be waiting for them. You could be wrong, and maybe you're biased, but the image you depict is a future you once envisioned for yourself—one of laughter, love, and a warm family. It’s a dream you secretly carried as a child, amidst your unstable upbringing. But as the years passed, what was once a lifelong aspiration felt more and more elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It seems, in the end, it was just a dream…nothing more.

Of course, you've achieved other goals instead, success in your career for one. It's what you wanted most the more you became an adult. Even before Jungkook came in the picture you were thriving. Yes, you needed investors to expand, but you had already made a strong name for yourself, hence the reason his company even reached out to you for a partnership in the first place.

The second, and more formidable goal you’ve achieved was saving your company. You built your business with an earnest heart, good morals, and an ambition to serve a community. You couldn’t let it all be washed out by a larger, greedier industry giant. You had to do something. Too bad your judgment was skewed the day you saw a similar ambition in Jungkook’s eyes; he was just as determined as you to save what was his.

For a while you got what you wanted, stability for your business. But you got too invested, too short-sighted to anticipate that one day, it would all feel hollow without someone proper to share it with. Alas, your prior hopes, the ones you thought were buried long ago, began returning to you as if they were an overwhelming tsunami.

You wanted warmth.

You wanted intimacy.

You wanted a home.

You sought companionship with Jungkook but no, you read the signs all wrong. Once you dropped the L word, his attentiveness towards you skyrocketed. He began calling you while you were apart, surprising you with little gifts, and setting more time aside so you could both take Bam to the dog park on free days. But then it all stopped. After months of showering you with attention, his efforts exhausted him, so he looked for the first exit out.

You remember getting the text one afternoon— When will you be home tonight? We need to talk about something. Selfishly, you hoped he was going to tell you that you could take that trip to Fiji together. You had been hinting at it for the last two weeks. Of course, you were wrong because the last time you checked, trip itineraries didn’t come with divorce papers. At that moment, you realized that Jungkook didn’t try to love you in the slightest, he tried loving at you; love bombing 101. Your ties are now completely severed.

Yesterday marked three months since your divorce was finalized. You didn’t cry like you thought you would, but you did meet with Melody that day. As your therapist, she offered you her empathy, validation, and perspective. You feel you’ve gotten better since you started meeting with her, finally beginning to heal. Yet the unsettling dream that haunted your sleep last night shows you there are many things still left to resolve, feelings you need to confront, but where to start?

You love your ex-husband, but why?

Can it even be called love?

And do you really need him to love you back?

While you can only offer fragments of an answer for the first two, you seem to have a better-formed answer for the last.

No, you don’t need Jungkook to love you. He’s proven to you time and time again that you are not the one he can bear his heart to. He’s always reiterating that he wants you to find someone else, someone more deserving of you, whatever that means. Likely, it’s all projection. Out of the two of you, he’s the one more likely to re-marry.

As for you, you’ll always love him, at least a semblance of it. After all, he was once a part of you. But what was once a part of you, doesn’t need to be anymore. You have to let him go...though you wish you didn't have to.

You continue walking straight until you find yourself drawn to a small park overlooking the city skyline. It's fairly empty, with only a few people nearby. As you settle onto a weathered bench, you take in the view before you. It stretches endlessly. Sunrises have always held a special place in your heart—the amber glow breaking through the abyss of darkness as if a beacon of hope.

"You'll get through this __," you reassure yourself, “one day at a time.”

“Happy six months, boss!”

A goofy, boxy smile graces the man’s lips as he leans against the doorframe of your office. You take in his appearance: crème-colored sweater paired with dark brown slacks, the fabric impeccably tailored to his tall, lean frame. His ebony hair is perfectly parted down the center and feathered out to either side of his face, giving him a soft, approachable look. The glasses are new though, round with a hint of gold. Though a minor accessory, they seem to tie the rest of the look together.

Classy, yet cozy, you hum silently, it suits him.

Everything about the way he’s dressed today complements his features—not that it could be any other way, as Taehyung could never not look good in something. You learned that the hard way when you opted against a gaudy shirt and pant set your stylists suggested he wear for a commercial. Taehyung, being a free spirit, decided to try it on for kicks, and yeah, it strangely worked. He ended up shooting the entire commercial with it on. That video’s gotten your business the highest engagement rate across all your media platforms to this day.

“Mr. Kim, does six months of working together really merit a celebratory drop-in?” You lean back in your desk chair, arms folded as you narrow your eyes at the man. You're taunting him, not that he minds.

“Please,__,” he starts, stepping further into the room, his presence effortlessly filling the space. “The only person that still calls me that is the intern who works on set with us. Makes me feel old, like I’m double my real age.”

“Well, you are older than both of us.”

Taehyung gives you the look, a mix of amusement and mild aggravation.

“Two years is hardly considered older, but if you’re done trying to prod me, I’d like to ask you a series of serious questions.”

“Okay, what?” You straighten your back, curious to know what he’s thinking.

“Red or white wine?” He waits for your response, eyes seemingly hopeful. You're unsure where he's going with this, so you delay your response, suspicious of the spontaneity of the inquiry.

“Red,” you respond, cautiously. Taehyung seems pleased.

“Strawberries or blueberries?”

“Strawberries, though I prefer cherries most."

“Science or literature?"

"Literature." You surprise him with this one. "I like books, vintage ones."

"Do a lot of reading in your spare time?" he asks.

"When I get some, yes."

"Me too. Tolstoy?"

"Occasionally," you answer. "Where are you going with this, Taehyung?"

He shrugs. "Just making conversation." He pauses before continuing, “I also happen to know a place that offers all those things plus private bookings. How about you and I go for dinner tonight, as colleagues? If you hate the wine, I’ll drink it for you.”

The weight of his request hits you like a ton of bricks. Apart from a handful of social events, you and Taehyung haven't exactly mingled outside of the office. His sudden invitation to go out for dinner takes you by surprise, especially considering the nature of your professional relationship. However, you can't deny the subtle shifts in his behavior, the way he's been checking in on you more often, especially since the Winter Gala. Weeks have passed since then, but, no doubt, the memory of that night still lingers in both your minds—the shaming from a bitter business competitor, the unwanted press shining a light on your divorce, and your ex-husband who so easily approached you like it was nothing.

Taehyung suggested for you to slip away through the back door with him, offering to drive you home himself rather than leaving you with your limo driver. But you declined, feeling embarrassed that he wasn't merely a witness to the night's events, but also made to be a spectacle himself. You never wanted him to feel like he had to pity you or coax you through your personal trials. Being a good colleague is one thing, but he didn't need to go above and beyond.

“I don’t know if I can join you tonight, I'm sorry. I have a lot to do,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. It's not far from the truth with the mountain of business reports and budget plans to look over. Though your business remains functioning, it's a lot to maintain, especially with the number of investors having withdrawn their support once news got out about your marital separation. It's unfortunate how much a person's situation and the things they've built can change on someone else's dime.

“You sure?" Taehyung tries again, careful not to sound pushy. "The place isn’t overly posh, but we could go elsewhere if you’d prefer."

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, maybe another time?” you say, fingers fidgeting with a few documents on your desk, a nervous habit you developed ages ago. “I-"

“I understand,” he says, his expression softening, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I have a film shoot that might go late anyway. Speaking of which, I'm expected on set in about half an hour so I'm going to head out, but if you change your mind, you know how to reach me."

You nod, recalling having his contact in your phone. The two of you agreed it would be easier to coordinate meetings and schedules this way. "I will, thank you. Good luck with your filming."

As you watch him leave, a twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn't have dismissed him so quickly, considering how insistent he seemed. It's as if he was genuinely looking forward to the affair.

No, you can't entertain it any further. You have no way of knowing how far the night might've led—it's best to leave Kim Taehyung alone.

When you declined Taehyung's invitation to get dinner, you didn’t expect it to result in not seeing or hearing from him for the next week and a half. As an endorser, he doesn't work at the office regularly, coming and going as needed and since you hadn’t had any promotional projects for him recently, his absence seemed normal at first.

But this was Kim Taehyung. The same Taehyung who loved making spontaneous visits to the company, especially towards the end of the week. He often came in once, twice, sometimes three times a week to talk with Namjoon, your secretary, in particular. Somehow, the pair had become friends, and since Namjoon’s desk was near yours, Taehyung would drop by whenever he saw your door open. So, not hearing from him for 11 days straight was strange, like he'd vanished.

It was now Friday evening, the clock pushing 5 pm. You consider texting him to make sure he's okay, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical? You had agreed with yourself to leave him alone. Maybe he was on vacation, perhaps at a vineyard, or had taken on another film project. Being a highly talented actor, Taehyung had no shortage of casting directors contacting him for their movies and TV shows.

Embarrassingly, you hadn’t actually seen any of his movies. You enjoyed a good rom-com now and then, like the ones Taehyung starred in, but you usually opted for something more mindless when you had the time to watch anything.

You can imagine the loyal following he has though, as Taehyung was the epitome of a "dream boat" with his natural good looks and expressive eyes. He must be good at kiss scenes, which must be especially difficult for anyone dating him. You know you'd have a hard time accepting it at least, the fact that your flawless actor boyfriend was off making out with equally beautiful co-stars on set, that is. Anyway, as your endorser, maybe you should try supporting his films a bit more. There had to be one that would catch your eye.

Curious, you open a new tab on your phone and search for him.

"Holy fuck," the curse leaves your lips the minute the search returns. Dozens of articles display on your phone screen at once, all covering South Korean actor Kim Taehyung's recent motorcycle accident. You checked the publishing date—six hours ago. “Taehyung’s in the hospital. He’s in the fucking hospital!”

Panicked, you leave your office to speak with your secretary.

“Ms. __,” Namjoon greets you immediately, a trace of hesitation in his tone upon seeing your frazzled state. “Is everything alright?”

“Joon,” you refer to him by his pet name, “Did you know that Taehyung’s in the hospital?”

“What?” He seems as shocked as you, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm.

“It happened this morning around eleven or something. It was a collision, a motorcycle accident. Oh god, he’s—he’s been taken to the ER,” you choke out the words, struggling to maintain your composure as you try recalling one of the articles you skimmed. “We have to go. I have to go right now.”

“I’m coming with you.” Namjoon leaps from his chair, grabbing his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll drive.”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t know how long this’ll be and you usually work until 5:30, so I don't want you to have to be stuck at the hospital with me. I want you to be able to call it an early night if you want. We'll take separate cars over.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll meet you over there then?”

“Yeah.” You nod back, clutching your keys harder in your palm. “Yeah, sounds good.” You turn around to head for the nearest exit, but your secretary stops you mid-step.

“__,” he calls you by your name, having known you for the past decade permits him to do so. He softens his eyes when he sees the worry in your own clear as day. “He’s gonna be okay. We have to believe that. Please drive safe.”

“You too,” you say, then disappear from his sight.

When you arrive, it’s a madhouse. Sirens blare as ambulances rush into the hospital parking lot, doctors and nurses race from room to room, and fans—so many fans—crowd outside, all waving signs of comfort and support.

“I'm here to see Kim Taehyung,” you say urgently to the charge nurse. She recognizes you immediately and throws you a look of distaste, but you’re too focused on the emergency at hand to care. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I need to see him. We work together, we're colleagues.”

“Ms. __,” she replies, surprisingly calm and collected amidst her obvious dislike of you. “I’m afraid he’s currently receiving serious medical attention and won’t be able to have any visitors at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” you blurt out the words faster than you anticipate. You feel like you're eating your words from earlier about leaving him alone, but this is different—his life is on the line. "I can wait for him.”

“Visiting hours are only until 8 pm. I really don’t think—”

“Please,” you interrupt, your voice stern and urgent. “He's part of my team. He's my...friend. I have to know if he’s okay.”

The nurse hesitates, her expression softening slightly as she sees the genuine concern in your eyes. “Alright,” she finally says, her tone firm but kinder. “You can wait in the family lounge, but I can’t promise you’ll be able to see him anytime soon."

“Thank you,” you say, relief flooding through you. She directs you to a quiet room down the hall, away from the commotion where you're better able to calm your racing thoughts. You find a seat in the far corner immediately and send a quick text to Namjoon, letting him know where you are.

As you wait, the minutes drag by painfully slow. You can’t stop replaying the articles in your mind from earlier, the words “motorcycle accident” echoing like a mantra. How did this even happen? How bad was his condition? How much strain is this going to put on his acting career? You wish you knew.

A handful of nurses enter the lounge occasionally, calling out names and providing updates, but none of them are Taehyung’s. You find your ears burning every time the door opens, heart racing, only to sink back into your seat when it’s not about him.

Finally, you catch sight of Namjoon, his face mirroring your concern. He spots you immediately and rushes over, taking a seat in the chair beside you. “Any news?” he asks, his voice low and urgent.

“Not yet,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “They said he’s receiving serious medical attention and don't know when we'll be able to see him. We have to leave by 8.”

Namjoon nods, his expression grim but unwavering “We’ll wait together.”

"If you need to leave sooner than—"

"I know," he interrupts. "I appreciate it, but please let me be here too."

You sit in silence from then on, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on both your shoulders. It's not until 7:35 when a doctor walks into the lounge, his tired eyes scan the room until they land on you and Namjoon.

“Are you here for Kim Taehyung?” he asks. "I'm Dr. Min."

You nod, your heart in your throat.

“He’s stable for now,” Dr. Min explains, “but he's still in critical condition. We’re doing everything we can.”

“Can we see him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs. “Only for a few minutes. And you need to be prepared—he’s heavily sedated and has sustained significant injuries.”

“I understand,” you reply, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

Dr. Min leads you through a maze of hallways until you reach the ICU. As you enter Taehyung’s room, the sight of him hooked up to machines and covered in bandages nearly breaks you. You take a deep breath and step closer, Namjoon right next to you.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he remains motionless, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The severity of his injuries is evident in the way he lies.

“We're here, Taehyung,” Namjoon continues, noticing your slightly frozen state. “We’re both here for you. Please, fight through this. You and I, we're good pals, remember? Like brothers. You have to—"

Although the more collected one before, Namjoon begins to struggle with his words. You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Having known him for 10 years, you know that despite his strong exterior, he has one of the softest souls you know.

"I think I have to go, __. It'll be better if I see him when he's awake. I want to stay longer, but I just don't know if I can."

"I understand, we can't stay much longer anyway. Go home and get some rest. Dr. Min will call us when he's awake and able to talk."

After you give him a hug, Namjoon leaves the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung. You end up pulling up a chair beside his bed and slowly reach out to touch his hand. It's instinctive for you, the need to feel his heartbeat overpowering any other thought.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Taehyung," you start, your voice a mere murmur. "You'll push through this, right? Like in the movies you film. I confess I haven't seen any of them yet, but—but I will! That's how I found out about all this actually. We hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks, so I searched you up. Not in a weird way though, okay? Not like...anyway, I'm sorry I said no to you that day. When you asked to go for dinner, it threw me off. This whole thing with my ex-husband just has my mind in fifty million directions, so I promise it wasn't you. I hope you didn't think that."

"You've always seemed to show up for me, whether it's for the good of the company or even a little emotionally in some aspects. With the reputation I have these days, I'll always be grateful that you chose to work with me. You have a good heart, Taehyung, so much that I think if we ever got close, I think it might be unbearable for me," you pause, a couple of tears slipping down your face.

Just then, a creaking of the room's door momentarily pulls your attention away. Dr. Min stands a few feet away, clearing his throat—a gentle but firm signal that it's time for you to leave.

"I have to go soon, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Even if you're still asleep or not, I'll stop in and sit with you for a while because...because I need to be sure that you'll be alright. Namjoon will come see you too when he's ready. But I'll see you in the morning, alright Kim?"

You squeeze Taehyung's hand gently before heading out of the room, thanking the medical staff along the way.

When you get home, the first thing you do is head straight for the bathroom. Your whole body feels riddled with stress and exhaustion, and you know that the only thing that can offer even the slightest amount of solace is the warmth of water.

Yet not four minutes after immersing yourself in your tub does your phone ring, demanding your attention. Being this late into the evening, you figure it has to be Jimin.

But you're wrong.

When you reach to answer the call, it's actually an unrecognizable number that's flashing on the screen. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

"Hello?" you answer cautiously, curiosity getting the best of you.

There's a brief pause on the other end before his voice comes through, words slightly muddled. "Hey, it's me," he says, his tone soft. "I've been...I've been thinking about my life, you know? About everything.

"J-Jungkook?" Your heart sinks as you quickly decipher the owner of the voice, but then it hardens. It's obvious from the slurring of his words that he's been drinking. "Why on earth are you calling me? And at this godforsaken hour too."

"I told you...I've been thinking about my life."

"I'm hanging up."

"No, please, stay on the line for five minutes. Please, I have to tell you...what I've been thinking."

"You have three minutes," you sigh, ready for anything (except what he was about to spring on you).

"I wanted to save my company," he continues, his voice wavering slightly. "For my mom's sake, you know? My dad owned it and stuff but she was the one who was behind all the technology...and that's why I married you. You...reminded me of her."

Your breath catches in your throat as he reveals the truth behind his actions, the raw honesty of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You knew very little of Jungkook's mother, too, as he didn't speak of her often.

"And then...then there's the real reason I divorced you," he admits, his voice breaking slightly. "My parents had a terrible marriage, you know? My mom...she had to manage my dad's temper for years...he didn't love her at all. He just married her because she was smart and could make him rich. It made her so unhappy, but you know she loved him so much. She...she passed away when I was 16, and...and I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to be trapped like she was, because I'm like my dad you know? My feelings are...weird... I never know what the hell I'm...feeling. I'm probably not making a lot of sense am I?"

"I'm trying to understand." You want to hang up here and now but every time he speaks, you cant bring yourself to do it. The pain in his voice cuts through you like a knife, and it's a side of him that you've rarely seen before.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry for being such a dumbass that day I got my stuff. That was like, six months ago and I still hate myself for it. I shouldn't have made an advance on you like that. I was...I was immature, and I wasn't thinking."

"After the gala," he continues, his words becoming more coherent as he speaks. "I...I felt even more guilty, you know? Because, I still have a photo of you and Bam on my dresser. It's small, but I've tried to put it away over and over and over again, but I can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me...it's almost a year since we lived under the same goddam roof and I can still smell your perfume, I can still remember how you laugh with both your lips and your eyes...the way you scrunch you nose when—"

"What are you trying to say Jungkook?" You interrupt. "That you're sorry and can't get me out of your head, so you need my forgiveness to move on?"

"No! That's...that's not it at all. I mean, I do want your forgiveness but—"

"Well, what the fuck is it?" You hate how aggressive your voice is sounding, but the obscene amount of incoherent information he's revealing to you is overwhelming. "It's 10 freaking pm at night, I had a long day, I'm sleep deprived, and Taehyung's in the fucking hospital which is so distressing, so I'm sorry, but I can't handle any more of your cryptic messages!"

"I think I might love you," he finally says, his voice raising as well. "I know I'm...I'm being a dumbass, but I...I think I love you. I love you __, fuck!"

a/n: So....how are we feeling about Jungkook rn? Also, my darling Taehyung is taking one for the team here 😭 🤍 LMK what you think! Lastly, I understand the timeline of events is a bit tricky to follow, so if it helps I can put something in the series masterlist to help. Vote for jjk or kth!

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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬