#he was tilting his head to look at me and then she took him and drowned him in a bucket

[entitled-fangirl]

I'll always be thanking you.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: The reader goes through postpartum depression after she gives him yet another girl. Cregan reassures her that he loves his daughters.

Warnings: postpartum depression, recovering from childbirth, sexist culture

Masterlist

A/n: it's a two fic kinda day

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It had happened so suddenly.

Cregan thought all was right in the world. Everything was set in place by the Old Gods as it should be. Everything was perfect.

But he knew that the last two pregnancies had been unkind to her, prompting a horrid depression after them that went on for months. But when it hadn't shown yet for this last one, he thought that perhaps it had stopped completely.

Until now.

He stepped into their chamber with a broad smile, lightly bouncing the two-year-old on his arm. Arya. She giggled with each one, the sound distorted with the force of the bounces. Witnessing the intimidating man turn soft for the little girl was entirely endearing. 

"Your mother is still in bed," he chipped lightly as he observed his wife covered by the furs they shared every night.

"She always in bed," Lyanna, their five year old said as she trailed behind them.

"Not always," Cregan corrected firmly. "She just gave us your new sister. It takes a long time for the body and mind to recover from something that great."

A small shaking of his wife's shoulders from her laying form in the bed caused him to worry slightly. "Lyanna, why don't you take your sister?"

She wanted to complain but knew better than to argue with her father. She took the toddler's hand and they walked out from the room.

Cregan's recovering wife laid in their bed, completely unmoving except for the small shoulder shake he'd seen. It was a quiver and it sent him on edge. She only ever did that when-

"Are you crying?" He whispered as he sat on the bed, her back to him.

Finally she turned. She had been awake the entire time. Her face was red from crying, the paths of her tears evident on her face. Her lips pouted down as she suppressed a sob.

Cregan was quick to comfort her. He practically laid his body over hers, keeping an arm around her to let her weep into his collarbone. And she did so.

He cooed every few moments, his free hand rubbing at her hair. The tears pained him almost as much as watching her endure the harsh labor only a two weeks before.

When the violent part of the crying was over, he pulled her face away to look at her. "Now," he caressed her cheek, "What is all this for?"

She sniffled and hiccuped between words. "It's just… just… Sarra."

His face fell. "Is something wrong with the babe?"

"No. It's just…" she caught her breath. "Another girl."

Cregan's head tilted. "It is," he reckoned. "What is the problem, my love?"

"Can I not give you a boy?" She whispered in fear of the answer.

Realization flooded Cregan. "You're doing nothing wrong," he assured. "I love my girls with all my heart. Did you want a boy this badly?"

"I just want you to be proud of me."

He visibly flinched. The thought of his postpartum wife crying over giving him a healthy baby was too much for him. "I'm proud of you. You've given me three girls now."

"But it's not a boy." Her eyes continually welled up with tears. "I was so sure it was a boy."

"Do you think me that shallow, dear wife?" He asked in a firm tone. "That I'd have you birth children until I got a boy?"

"Two," she corrected. "You need an heir and a spare and I-" her breath caught. "I cannot even give you one. A cursed womb-"

"Don't say that." His voice was a firm growl, his hand grabbing her jaw a bit harder than he meant to. "Do not say that."

A few tears ran down her cheeks.

Cregan forced a sigh and let his anger die down. He sat up a bit, giving her space. "Do you think that all I wanted in this world were two sons? Do you think that is all my heart desires?"

It was clear that she knew deep down how ridiculous she sounded. "Well-"

"-I've said it many times. What does my heart desire? Hmm? What brightens my day more than the sun?"

She let out a breath through her nose.

Cregan continued, tilting his head down to catch her gaze. "My wife and what? What else?"

"Your children," she whispered.

"Hm?" He asked, though he clearly heard it. He just wanted her to say it once again.

"Your children," she said a bit louder. 

He smiled. "Yes, our children." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Whether we had had one or you give me an army, I shall love them all until my remains in the crypt are long gone. Being a boy or girl doesn't change it."

"But… Winterfell-"

"-We'll deal with the succession when it is meant to happen. Until now, you're going to rest, and I'm going to spend time with our children. But I'm not going anywhere until you've done your part."

"The maester said it would take much longer to heal this time," she muttered. To herself or Cregan, she wasn't sure.

"That's alright. We've got all the time we need for now, don't we? No need to rush things."

"But the sooner we try-"

"-No-"

"-And Sarra was such a surprise-"

"-Stop-"

"-The next one could be sooner-"

"-Love," he said with a slightly raised voice. "When you're healed and ready to try once more, I will be eternally grateful. But I can wait a lifetime if I need to. I have all I need in the world already."

There was a small knock on the door. "Papa?"

No doubt it was Arya.

Cregan grinned and kissed his wife's temple before going to the door. In the doorway stood little Arya, her hair a sandy brown like Cregan's, her bright eyes like her mother. "What do you need?" It was a firm ask from him, but not one without care.

Arya had yet to say complete sentences yet, only a few  words here and there and the lord would be forced to try to make sense of them. She babbled about something and Cregan's brows raised, completely at a loss. "Um… I-"

"Here, darling," Y/n's soft voice came from behind Cregan as she walked to them. In her hand was Arya's doll that she had no doubt dropped earlier. It was a carefully sewn piece from Cregan's bastard sister, Sara, of whom the new babe was named after. "I see Aunt Sara got a new dress for her, hm?"

Arya grabbed the doll quickly from her mother and hugged the doll tightly. 

Cregan wrapped an arm around his wife. He wanted to scold her for getting up but he would refrain from that for now. "Aye. A very pretty dress," he tried to compliment. Cregan didn't know the first thing about sewing or doll making, or even the fashion of ladies, but he tried anyway to please his girls.

Arya's brows came together in clear confusion, prompting his wife to lightly elbow him. He gave a grunt and gawked.

"It's a battle dress," she spoke through her teeth. "It's a doll dressed like a female warrior."

He decided to go along with it, though he clearly didn't understand it. "I mean, what a very fierce dress. Seems very… protective."

Arya accepted that answer and held the doll out for Cregan to truly see. His gruff hand reached out and took the doll, bringing it up to his level to admire. His sister had done well with it, even he could see that. "So very pr-" he caught himself. "So very strong."

Arya jumped up to grab the doll and Cregan handed it back to her. The two parents watched her take off again like nothing had happened. 

"How'd you know what she wanted?" He asked his wife.

She rubbed at her tired eyes, ignoring the slight ache in her thighs. "She said so. Didn't you hear it?"

"We have three lovely girls and I still have so much to learn," he remarked, amusement oozing from his voice.

She gave a tired grin at that. She began leaning more into him than before and he held her hips taught. "Now," he remarked, "to bed with you."

"Sarra might need me-"

"-I'll check on Sarra."

"And Lyanna was hoping to play outside-"

"-I'll see to it."

"And Arya-"

"-What of Arya?" He asked quietly.

She paused. "I- She always needs something."

He let out a deep chuckle, guiding her back to the bed. "I'll see to it all. I promise you. I can be a father, whether you believe that or not."

She hummed. "I do."

"Alright. Then let me." He kissed her cheek, his scruff rubbing at her skin. "We'll get you in bed."

"Can the girls visit later?" 

He couldn't deny those bright eyes of hers. The same ones each of his girls inherited. It was his one weakness. "After you sup, then yes. But that is in a few hours."

Relief and excitement pulled at her shoulders, a comforting feeling washing over her. "Thank you."

As he tucked her back into the bed, he smiled at her. "Don't thank me. You've given me everything. I'll always be thanking you."

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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar @kidd3ath @yujyujj @misswynters @cosmosnkaz @sithapprentice @kaniromi @lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog @alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867 @helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[ahqkas]

BRUCE WAYNE never thought something as simple as a walk through the park could undo him so completely. he had been passing through on his way to a wayne foundation meeting, a brief moment of peace in his usually packed schedule, when his eyes caught the scene.

a toddler—no more than two, maybe three years old—stumbled through the snow, mittened hands clutching tightly to her father’s pant leg. she was bundled in a too-big scarf and a pink hat, hear head tilted to gaze at the snowflakes around her, her cheeks red from the cold.

he froze, mid-step, completely caught off guard by the wave of baby fever that crashed over him. it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about children before. he already had a house full of them—though they came to him much older, with the weight of trauma already etched into their young faces. but this was different. she was different. he imagined a tiny girl like that in his life, her small hand slipping into his with absolute trust, her laughter filling the empty corners of wayne manor.

by the time he returned home, the manor blanketed in snow, his gloves still clutched in his hands, his thoughts had become a single drumbeat: i want that.

he found you in the library, a fleece blanket draped over your legs, a book in hand as you sat in your favorite chair by the window. the firelight flickered over your face, softening your features, making you look like you belonged in one of the stories you loved so much.

“you’re back early,” you said, voice breaking the stillness. you glanced up from the book and your lips quirked into a smile that stopped him in his tracks. “everything okay?”

he didn’t answer right away, his gaze tracing your features like he was committing them to memory. finally, he crossed the room, shedding his coat as he went, draping it across the back of the chair opposite yours.

“i saw something today,” he said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. bruce knelt before you, one hand resting on the arm of the chair as the other gently took the book from your hands. you let him, brow furrowing slightly as you tilted your head at his actions.

“what did you see?”

“a little girl,” his eyes locking onto yours. “she couldn’t have been more than two. she was holding onto her father’s leg, bundled up in a scarf that practically swallowed her whole. she was laughing.”

his words lingered in the space between the two of you, thick with unspoken meaning. your expression softened as you realized where this was heading, fingers brushing against his hand where it rested on your chair.

“she reminded me of something,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, rougher. “or maybe she made me realize something. i want that, with you. i want us to have a child—a little girl, a boy, i don’t care. i just . . . want it to be ours.”

your breath hitched in the back of your throat as your cheeks flushed—not just from the fire, but from the intensity of his words, of the way his eyes burned into yours like he could see every part of you—the future and the past. “bruce . . .” you began, voice barely above a whisper, but he leaned closer, cutting off whatever protest or question lingered on your lips.

“it’s all i could think about on the way home,” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours, his voice dropping to a husky, intimate tone. “how much i want to see you holding our baby, to watch them grow up with you. to give them everything we didn’t have.”

you swallowed hard at his words, your soft hand sliding up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint stubble there.

“well, it’s a good thing we’re snowed in tonight.”

bruce froze for a moment, then a slow, knowing smile curved his lips. he rose to his full height, pulling you gently to your feet, the book forgotten as it tumbled to the floor.

“is that so?” he asked, his voice like velvet, rough and warm all at once.

you didn’t answer with words, just slipped your hand into his, your gaze steady despite the flush painting your cheeks. your husband pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before guiding you from the library, the firelight casting long, flickering shadows in your wake.

and as snow continued to fall outside, the world quiet and still, the manor felt a little less cold that night.

[demonic0angel]

"If you give me a prompt I'll write it 😈" - Aight Bet.

Danny didn't expect his sister to have a pen pal, she said it's someone from nanda Parbat?? Danny doesn't know where the Fuck that is but everytime he sees the letter that was sent(those are some fancy lookin envelopes) he could feel rancid Ectoplasm lingering around them.

Jazz has already noticed but took no caution about it, Jazz said that she had a son, her name was Talia (No Mentioned Last name) and she was a very odd woman.

Danny listened to Jazz ramble on about her new "friend", Her son Damian which her pen pal had talked about and even sent a drawing of(how fancy). Danny WOULD investigate and dig deep into it since he's the ghost king and all but jazz explicitly told him not to.

....

Meanwhile, Jazz plans to meet her 'Penpal Friend' soon. She's very excited but still cautious, The way her friend talked about her situations was... Concerning to say the least and jazz shall use her psychiatrical expertise to help her!

[Danny is very concerned, Dan is Very Concerned 2.0, Dani says "Yuri."]

-A.E. 👻

(I’m gonna change the context of your ask a little so Jazz already knows Talia’s identity before she meets her again in person. Also, this got really long lmaooo)

Talia gave her a small nod when she saw her. She lifted her head to meet Jazz’s gaze as Jazz gave her a dazzling smile.

“Hello, Talia,” Jazz said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “You look lovely.”

Talia avoided her gaze and just hummed. She cleared her throat lightly and then said, gesturing to the hallway, “This way.”

Jazz followed her at a set pace and said, “It’s good seeing you again. How are you? Did you enjoy the candy I shipped over?”

Talia nodded. “Yes. I gave them to my son and he enjoyed them. Thank you very much.”

Jazz beamed. She did not ask the burning question in her heart. Was Talia alright? Her letters to her had become less and less frequent in the past year before the most recent message to her had been a barely disguised begging for Jazz to come see her.

Jazz didn’t mind; she loved seeing Talia, who was startlingly dangerous and hauntingly beautiful, but it still worried her. Talia was a strong woman, but she wasn’t invincible, even with that pool of rancid ectoplasmic bath water. (She shuddered just thinking about it. She needed to ask Danny to wipe them out before Talia could hurt herself again using them.)

“Where are we going?” Jazz asked, glancing around. They were inside of a nice, expensive looking condo in Spain.

Talia paused in front of a door. She hesitated before she said slowly, “Jazz… I have valued your friendship greatly. In the last few years, you have become someone very dear to me. However, as you are already aware, I am in a dangerous position in my home. I do not wish to endanger you, especially since you are a civilian. If you do not wish to take this journey with me, then… you should turn around now.”

Jazz chuckled. How cute that Talia thought that Jazz was a helpless civilian. However, it had been Jazz who had accidentally enforced that idea within Talia’s mind. It was a little too late to correct that notion though, so Jazz just shook her head softly and tried to look reassuring for Talia.

“It’s too late for that.” She reached out to hold Talia’s hand, scarred and weathered from fighting, squeezing slightly. “I will accompany you and help you however I can.”

Talia nodded again, looking away. “Thank you… beloved.”

Jazz tilted her head curiously at the title, but did not say a word. Talia then opened the door and Jazz’s eyebrows rose as she stared at a young boy with similar features to the woman beside her. He scowled at her, but it just looked cute with his round cheeks.

Jazz turned to Talia. She already had an inkling, but she wanted to confirm. “This is…?”

“My son,” Talia said, “His name is Damian. And I earnestly beg you to take him in for me.”

“What! But mother!” Damian stood up and shouted, while Jazz’s eyebrows shot up again.

Talia gave him a light glare. She turned back to Jazz and it was cute how she had to look up at her. “My father is increasing pressure on us, and he is training Damian even harder. If this continues, Damian’s life could be in danger. I would’ve left him with his father, but Bruce’s lifestyle is… not what I want for Damian. Please, could you take him in, beloved?”

Damian shut his mouth with a click and both Al Ghuls stared at Jazz with wide eyes, one beseeching and one shocked.

Jazz smiled and reached out to hold Talia’s hand again. It was really nice to hold, and warm too. “Of course. You don’t have to worry, Talia. Like I’ve said, you can depend on me.”

Talia beamed. “Thank you, beloved.” She flipped Jazz’s hand and kissed the back of it softly. Jazz blushed. It felt strangely… intimate? But who was Jazz to judge? Maybe it was a League of Assassins custom! Or something! She didn’t get to meet Talia often, usually just exchanging weekly letters, so how would she know?

Talia turned back to Damian, still holding Jazz’s hand and said, “She will be your new caretaker. She is very important to me and you can trust her with your life. Call her… mom.”

Jazz side eyed Talia, but did not dispute it. Maybe it was some sort of spy plan? Like a code name? It would make more sense when a woman and a young boy were together for them to be mother and son.

Jazz also turned to Damian and let go of Talia’s hand to walk over to him slowly, keeping an open posture and friendly smile on her face.

Damian eyed Jazz as she approached and then knelt down respectfully before him. She smiled. “Hello, Damian. I’m Jazz, and I hope we can get along.”

Damian looked at his mother. They had some sort of silent conversation that Jazz did not understand, before Damian turned back to her. “Yes… it’s nice to meet you too… mom.”

Jazz smiled. “I’ll take care of you.”

Damian sniffed. “I certainly hope so.” He tried to look haughty, but he was so short compared to Jazz that it once again looked adorable and pouty.

Yep. It was official. Her siblings were going to eat him alive.

Jazz looked back at Talia, who was staring at them both with a soft expression. Strangely, the gentle look made Jazz’s stomach flutter.

Weird. Was she growing sick?

Talia blinked, noticing her gaze. “Is there something wrong, beloved?”

Jazz coughed at the nickname again. Damian eyed her like she was a walking disease and Talia just looked more and more worried. “Nope! So, uh, what’s the official plan?”

She stared at Talia, who just blinked and hummed, pursing her red, kissable lips.

Yep. Definitely sick.

(Talia: Heh! Cool, calm, and collected, with a dash of vulnerability! I’m definitely showing my best side to my beloved, Jazz! She’s so much better than that emotionally constipated Bruce!

Jazz: *completely and utterly oblivious to any advances made by another woman* Wow, Talia is so pretty today too. Surely, it is normal to want to hold hands and kiss another girl because she’s so pretty 😃 I wonder why she wants her kid to call me mom? 😃

Damian: …. Two moms? Is this my birthday?)

[cherrybr4t]

hoshi as your boyfriend (+18)

(sfw + nsfw)

warnings: first half is all FLUFF <3 nsfw part included too! dancer!hoshi, dancer!reader, fem reader, unprotected sex 😔, public sex, creampie, mirror sex, orgasm denial + edging, they r in luv! <3

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s the school’s infamous dance captain, while you’re a member of the dance club. that’s how the both of you met.

boyfriend!soonyoung who was known to be a dynamic ball of energy, but with you — he was so shy initially. thought you were too pretty to approach, thought you looked out of reach. took him a while to be able to be friends with you.

boyfriend!soonyoung finally had the balls to confess to you after working on a dance project with you for 2 months. impulsive 2am thoughts and a slip of the tongue while the both of you were slurping down cup noodles after practice.

“—so yeah jihoon wouldn’t stop making fun of me, especially about my crush on you and—”

“what?”

“…what did i say?”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s superrr clingy. even if it’s a separate practice session for team projects within the dance club, he’s gonna be at yours. sitting at the back, the front, beside the mirrors — wherever. (and it makes the juniors/other members nervous as HELL)

boyfriend!soonyoung who gets pouty when you tell him not to show up all the time — “it intimidates the rest!” but he promises to not be noticed the next time; cue him going to your next practice in a ball cap and mask, sitting at the back corner.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always willing to help and guide you patiently. (though he is always impatient and scary with the other team members) with you though — he can never lose his temper at you. every mistake you make causes him to giggle like you’re the cutest thing ever.

“you’re so cute baby,”

you pout “i’m sorry baby… i can’t seem to get this even though i’ve done it like - 20 times.”

“it’s okay baby, you’re doing so well. doing better than dino even.”

you tilt your head…”that’s impossible”

“i’ll happily watch you practice it a 100 times angel,”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s your biggest supporter. he’s your biggest fan. after every performance, he never fails to gift you the biggest & most dramatic bouquet of flowers with a little tiger plushie in the middle. with the longest heartfelt letter sealed in a tiger print envelope.

boyfriend!soonyoung who feels so lucky to have you. because if you think he’s dramatic? you’re even MORE dramatic. customised tiger gifts for him, an even bigger bouquet of flowers for him, and the cutest love letter he has pinned on his board at home.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always your biggest defender. anytime he hears people talking shit about you — he’s immediate to thrash things out with them. always reminds people how hardworking you are, and loves to talk about you to everyone he knows.

“she’s the prettiest, kindest, purest soul i’ve ever met. and have you seen her dance? swear she’s better than me.”

“she’s the best. i don’t know how i got so lucky to love someone like her.”

boyfriend!soonyoung who loves using not only words of affirmation, he loves his quality time with you, he loves feeling your touch all the time, and he’s the best at acts of service.

“i love you baby. i’ll never get tired of telling you how amazing you are. i’m so happy we got to exist in the same universe timeline, like—” *him rambling and getting distracted by the theories about different universe timelines*

*him always planning the most thought out dates — full day itinerary; at the zoo, pottery dates, etc. but he loves spending his down time with you too — sitting at home, putting on animal print face masks together, doing feet baths together.*

he always needs to hold your hand — doesn’t want to lose you in the crowd (though the crowd on tuesdays at the mall seems to be…bleak). hugs with him lasts at least 10 minutes at a time, and naps with him end up with him hugging you like a koala bear on a tree.

hungry at 2am? he’s at your door within 15 with your favourite late night snack. on your period? he’s got a full care pack covered. late for class? he’s already sitting in your lecture hall; attendance marked for you, taking down notes for you.

nsfw version here!

boyfriend!soonyoung who found out he had a thing for exhibitionism one night while the both of you were practicing late in the dance studio.

you were practicing your moves, concentration at a 100% while looking at yourself in the mirror. and he couldn’t help but feel a little turned out by how hard you were dancing. sweaty, flushed and so so pretty.

the song switches — and you snap your head towards soonyoung. he walks towards you in beat with the sensual song, before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“follow my guide baby,” he sways, holding onto you so tight. he traces your arms, interlocking both hands with you — flowing with the music while his eyes never left yours in the mirror.

“you’re so sexy baby. love the way you move,” he breathes down your neck, eyes shutting for less than a second before he focuses on you again.

you hum, hips moving against his crotch as you feel yourself get heated up as the song progresses. “learned it all from you baby,” your giggle snaps him out of his deep reverie.

“getting bold now are we?”

boyfriend!soonyoung loves how you’re always down to explore new boundaries with him. he knows the deep trust goes both ways, and he’s grateful.

boyfriend!soonyoung loves when you get all needy for him. it’s usually him being all clingy and like a baby when it comes to you. you’re his safe space. so when he sees you being all wide eyed and desperate for him — it turns him on to no end.

he’s a menace. when it comes to fucking you, he’s double the menace. gets off on you being his needy little angel. no one would ever guess what goes on behind closed doors when it comes to him.

he’s edged you for the past 30 minutes, your juices tainting the dance floor that’s only seen blood sweat and tears of the dancers. his smile is sinister, is relishing in the fact that he’s holding the key to your heaven gates at the moment.

loves to have you in front of him sitting right in front of the mirror. the big and wide mirror capturing the indecent act. your legs wide open for him as his fingers alternate between rubbing messily and harshly on your clit, and plunging deep into your his cunt.

wants you to come undone on his fingers and torture alone.

but he’s selfish, only wants to achieve what he’d set to do so earlier. and it’s for you to cum on his cock. he sits on the floor with his pretty cock out in the open, and has you in the same position, except now you’re sitting on his cock — deep inside you. all still facing the mirror where his gaze is locked on every move you make.

“that’s it baby, ride my cock like you fucking mean it yeah?”

“training you to have strong legs baby, you need them to continue to dance amazingly right?”

you cry out at the overstimulation, you want nothing but to cum. every hit his cock makes chokes you and you don’t recognise the girl in the mirror anymore — so wrecked on your boyfriend’s cock.

“tell me what you need pretty girl,” soonyoung teases as he leans back on his hands, enjoying the view in the mirror, hiding how fucked out he feels. how he is so close to cumming right inside of you this very moment. but he’s holding back. he’s got better control than that anyways.

“need to—need to cum nowww soonie, please baby,” tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you continue to ride him, pace faltering as you feel your legs getting tired.

“if you can cum like that, be my guest baby. cum.” he shrugs, and you notice the glint in his devilish gaze through the mirror. you groan, legs giving out on you and you resort to grinding slowly.

“need you to—need you to help me,” you pout, if acting cute won’t get you what you want, you don’t know what else to try.

“baby needs my help? can’t cum on her own? aw baby.” he pouts back at you, and you want so badly to snap at him at his tone but you know better than to do so.

“on your knees, face the mirror. won’t tell you twice.” and all energy resurfaces as you scurry to go on all fours, looking at how desperate you appear through the mirror — your reflection mocking you.

soonyoung grunts in approval. slides his cock right back into you, and thanks the heavens for you. for being able to take you like this. swears you look like an angel even being so fucked out on the dance floor, back being blown out.

“so fucking pretty like this baby, how do you always look so fucking beautiful,” he snaps his hips so deep into you with a certain tempo, and you feel like you’re ascending to heaven each time he fucks his cock into you.

his fingers reach forward to smack your puffy clit, using the tip of his fingers to rub messily, finally deciding to let his angel cum.

“c-can’t—gonna cum—i’m gonna cum gonna cum” you cry out with a hoarse throat with actual tears running down your flushed cheeks this time. your hands reach back to grab onto his biceps, nails plunging in, and it drives him crazy.

“you can cum baby, cum on your fucking cock—cream it baby let me feel you—” you clench around him so tight he lets out a string of ‘fucks’. you fall forward, face flat — cheeks pressed on the dance floor, letting your body do the job of releasing the past hour of edging. all tension let loose, you moan out his name so beautifully as you cream and choke his cock with your cunt.

“fuck fuck fuck baby, gonna cum too. gonna cum inside you pretty, fuuuuuck—” his grip on your hips tighten as he releases his creamy load inside of you. airy moans leaving his chest as he lets his cock paint your cunt as his.

he slows down his thrusts, letting the mixture of your releases mix together slowly. you both slowly relish in the moment of your bodies connecting, feeling nothing but love left.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s always taking care of you — including after care! loves praising you non stop, leaving trails of kisses everywhere. post-nut clarity hits differently for him — where he always tells himself that he wants to be yours forever.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s not only the best boyfriend, the best lover but also your best friend and the one person you’re most thankful for in the world ! <3

a/n: haha…was in a hoshi mood…<3 GAH. i hope u guys liked it ! typed this all in one go while thinking abt hoshi n him being the bestest boy ever.

[creamflix]

flix my love my darling what if we combined jjk and hsr or is this too delusional

LUST FOR LIFE! — jjk x female reader x hsr

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. recurring themes of: established relationship, marathon sex, slight cnc, overstimulation, mind-break, threesomes, degrading, praise, p in v sex. sex toys, cucking, voyeurism, body worship, switch dynamics, oral (m. receiving). guided sex. featuring x reader pairings of: toji fushiguro & sampo koski, gojo satoru & aventurine, choso kamo & dan heng, nanami kento & veritas ratio, and (heinen era) ryomen sukuna & blade

jelli my love you got me slobbering all over the screen with your request. i would have written more but i wanted to include multiple pairings so it ended up as drabbles instead ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) i hope you like these <3 requests are still open for those who are interested, just send in an ask. 

— general masterlist ☆

TOJI FUSHIGURO AND SAMPO KOSKI — BUSINESS DEALS!

toji had a habit of turning things up a notch, but this? this was a different league altogether. 

when you first saw sampo koski at your doorstep, looking like trouble in an expensive coat with a shit-eating grin, you thought it was just one of toji's stupid pranks.

“brought reinforcements,” toji had said, voice dripping with smug amusement. sampo, ever the showman, swept into the room like he owned it, opening a sleek case filled with an impressive lineup of toys. your face burned, mortification clashing with a thrill you couldn’t deny.

and now? god, you were wrecked. sprawled out on the bed, legs trembling, body hypersensitive, and your mind a haze of overstimulation. sampo’s laugh was low and teasing, his voice dripping with condescension. “look at you, so eager to thank us for every little thing. who’s my favorite little client, huh?”

toji’s hand, firm and warm, pressed on your lower back, pinning you down as he leaned close to your ear. “ye got a lotttta stamina, babe, but you don’t think we’re stoppin' now, do ya?”

every whimper, every moan that escaped your lips only fueled their sadistic amusement. sampo alternated between cruel, taunting comments and offering you praise that made your head spin, while toji took full advantage of your pliant state, whispering filthy things about how good you looked falling apart for them.

it was endless, round after round, with every toy from sampo’s collection coming into play. the overwhelming sensations had you slurring broken words of gratitude and sobbing from the sheer intensity, unable to think, just feel.

“we might have to invest in more,” sampo mused, twirling a dildo in his hand like it was a business proposition. “our sweet little thing here seems to have a taste for luxury.”

toji laughed, a dark and throaty sound. “oh, don’t worry, she’ll take everythin' we give her. wouldn’t want her to get spoiled though… unless you like bein' spoiled, baby?”

you could barely respond, too lost in the haze, but the smirk they exchanged promised that your torment — and pleasure — was far from over.

GOJO SATORU & AVENTURINE — ALL IN!

“a brother from another mother,” gojo had said with that usual mischievous grin, clapping aventurine on the shoulder like they weren’t both trouble incarnate. aventurine, all sharp smiles and unnerving eyes, had leaned in, his sandy-blond hair catching the light, and said, “nice to meet you, sweetheart. gojo’s told me allll about you. every. single. thing.”

you didn’t know if it was the way aventurine’s voice dripped with something wicked or the way gojo gave him a knowing smirk, but you had a feeling this meeting wasn’t going to stay innocent for long. and god, were you right.

now? now you were caught between them, your senses obliterated, every nerve ending alight. aventurine’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “think you can handle another round, sweetheart? satoru says you’re good for it, but I’d like to see for myself.”

“she’s better than good,” gojo cut in, his tone smug as his hand trailed down your side, igniting shivers in its wake. “but let’s make this fun — wanna bet how long it takes before she’s begging again?”

aventurine’s grin widened, all teeth and danger. “oh, you’re on. but let’s not stop there. how about we bet on how many times she screams my name?”

you were barely holding it together, their words tangling in your hazy mind as their hands and mouths worked you over. every move was calculated, every kiss, every thrust a competition to see who could unravel you faster.

aventurine was smooth and precise, his calculated touches finding every spot that made you see stars, while gojo was relentless, teasing and taunting as he pushed you to your limits. they coordinated like they’d done this a hundred times before, one filling the spaces where the other left off, leaving you no room to recover.

“look at her,” aventurine said, his voice a low purr as he watched your trembling form. “a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, sweetheart? don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. maybe.”

“nah,” gojo chimed in, his grin never faltering. “she loves it. just look at how she’s clinging to us — like she doesn’t want it to end.”

you could barely respond, lost in the pleasure as their playful banter became background noise to the overwhelming sensations. every sound you made, every time your body betrayed you, only fueled their competitive fire.

“i think that’s my point,” aventurine declared triumphantly when you screamed his name, your voice cracking from the intensity.

“oh, don’t get cocky,” gojo shot back, his tone light but his actions anything but. “we’re just getting started.”

and you? you couldn’t even protest. not that you wanted to. you were here to enjoy the ride, and with these two, it was shaping up to be the wildest ride of your life.

CHOSO KAMO & DAN HENG — SOCIALLY FUCKED ANXIOUS!

choso had always been your sweet, reserved boyfriend — the type who’d spend hours listening to you, loving you with a quiet devotion that melted your heart. so when he mentioned he was making friends, especially someone like dan heng, you couldn’t have been prouder.

but this? this was unexpected.

dan heng, all elegance and composure, was seated next to choso, his blue eyes studying you with a mix of intrigue and desire that sent a shiver down your spine. choso, your shy, anxious boyfriend, was the one who suggested it. his voice soft but firm, his dark eyes burning with an intensity you didn’t know he had. “only if you want to,” he murmured, his hand holding yours with that same gentle warmth you’d always known.

and now here you were, sandwiched between them, their lips worshipping every inch of you. dan heng’s kisses were slow, deliberate, trailing down your body with reverence, while choso stayed closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmured sweet reassurances.

“you’re so beautiful,” dan heng said softly, his voice like silk, as his hands mapped your curves.

choso nodded, his voice thick with adoration. “perfect. always perfect.”

but their tenderness didn’t last. it wasn’t long before patience gave way to raw hunger. dan heng’s composure cracked first, his movements becoming urgent as he gripped your hips, his kisses turning into bites that left you gasping. choso followed suit, his shyness replaced by a desperation you’d only seen glimpses of before, his hands firm as they guided you exactly where he wanted.

their rhythm was relentless, their coordination uncanny as they pushed you to multiple orgasms over and over again. choso’s soft murmurs of praise contrasted with dan heng’s deep, rumbling groans, the combination leaving you breathless and shaking.

“you can take it,” dan heng growled, his usual calm voice tinged with something feral as he watched you writhe between them.

“you’re doing so good for us,” choso added, his tone still laced with love, even as his thrusts grew rougher, more insistent.

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, your body overwhelmed by their touch, their intensity. all you could do was surrender, grateful for every moment, every sensation.

as the night blurred into a haze of pleasure, one thought lingered in your mind: you were so glad choso had stepped out of his comfort zone. if this was what friendship brought, you were more than happy to let him keep making new ones.

NANAMI KENTO & VERITAS RATIO — LESSON IN RELIEF!

nanami had always spoken highly of veritas ratio, his tone fond yet full of respect whenever his name came up. “a genius,” he would say, “but insufferably eccentric.” still, he admired ratio’s dedication to teaching and his unmatched intellect, and when his best friend visited, nanami insisted on inviting him to stay at your home.

ratio was a sight to behold — his wavy violet hair fell over one eye, the other catching you with its piercing, dual-toned gaze. he was polite, almost reserved, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed his mind at work, constantly analyzing, constantly thinking.

you hadn’t expected the night to turn this way.

“she’s yours for the evening,” nanami had said, his voice calm, almost businesslike, as though he were discussing dinner plans instead of offering you up to his best friend. “i know how taxing your work is, ratio. consider it my way of thanking you for all the years of friendship.”

ratio hadn’t needed to be asked twice. his demeanor shifted as he approached you, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. “a most generous gift, nanami,” he said, his tone smooth, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “i promise to make the most of it.”

you had barely registered the words before ratio’s hands were on you, firm yet measured, like he was solving a complex problem with precision. his lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot as he murmured, “so eager to help, aren’t you? a willing participant in your husband’s… generosity.”

nanami watched, seated nearby with a glass of whiskey in hand, his expression composed but his eyes betraying a flicker of satisfaction. “don’t go too easy on her, ratio. she can handle more than she lets on.”

ratio chuckled, low and dark, as his hands roamed your body. “oh, i don’t intend to.”

he wasn’t gentle — not entirely. his movements were calculated, his touch almost clinical at first, but it didn’t take long for his restraint to unravel. his words came fast, sharp, like a lecture, each one making you tremble under his control.

“you’re quite the distraction,” he mused, his voice edged with amusement. “no wonder nanami looks so content these days. it seems i underestimated just how… accommodating you are.”

you barely heard nanami’s low chuckle over your own gasps and moans, your body responding to ratio’s relentless attention. his strength surprised you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you past every limit you thought you had.

“good girl,” ratio praised, his voice a mix of condescension and admiration as he watched you fall apart. “you’re learning quickly. maybe there’s hope for the future generation after all.”

“she’s an excellent student,” nanami added, his tone warm with pride. “but she’s all yours for now, ratio. don’t hold back.”

and ratio didn’t. by the end of the night, you were utterly spent, every nerve in your body alight, your mind foggy with exhaustion and satisfaction. as you lay there, caught between them, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have a husband so generous — and a man like ratio to appreciate the gift.

RYOMEN SUKUNA & BLADE — A LORD’S DECREE!

sukuna was as cruel as he was powerful, a lord whose sadistic streak ran deep. you had earned your title as his consort, climbing from the ranks of his concubines, yet even now, his affection came wrapped in torment. his amusement at your expense was a constant reminder of his dominion over you.

tonight was no exception.

“you’ll honor my general,” sukuna commanded, his voice a rumble of authority as he reclined on his throne, sharp eyes watching you like a predator savoring its prey. his lips curved into a smirk, his four arms resting lazily, exuding dominance.

before you stood blade, the general who had delivered yet another victory in sukuna’s name. he was imposing, with dark blue hair tipped in crimson, his red eyes sharp and unyielding. the bandages on his body only added to his aura, a testament to his countless battles.

“kneel,” sukuna ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

you obeyed, trembling but determined not to falter under your lord’s gaze. blade remained stoic, his expression unreadable as you lowered yourself before him.

“use that mouth of yours well,” sukuna drawled, leaning forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “but remember, pet, blade knows better than to take liberties. isn't that right, general?”

blade’s deep voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “of course, my lord. your word is absolute.”

you began, your movements tentative at first, the weight of sukuna’s gaze a constant pressure. blade’s restraint was palpable, his body tense as you worked, every sound you elicited from him controlled, calculated.

“good,” sukuna murmured, his voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction. “you should feel honored, blade. not everyone gets to enjoy my consort’s talents.”

blade’s only response was a low grunt, his eyes flickering to sukuna briefly before returning to you. his self-control was admirable, but you could sense the strain, the effort it took for him to abide by sukuna’s decree.

“don’t get greedy,” sukuna warned, his tone sharp as a blade. “you know the consequences if you so much as think about taking more.”

blade’s voice was a strained rasp. “i wouldn’t dare, my lord.”

sukuna chuckled darkly, his amusement clear as he watched the scene unfold. “good. remember your place, general.”

you could feel your own limits approaching, the intensity of the situation overwhelming, but sukuna’s laughter reminded you that this was as much a test for you as it was for blade.

“don’t stop now, pet,” sukuna said, his grin widening. “you wouldn’t want me to think you’re slacking, would you?”

you shook your head weakly, redoubling your efforts despite the ache in your jaw, the humiliation of it all only fueling sukuna’s sadistic pleasure.

when it was finally over, blade stepped back, his expression unreadable, though you could see the faintest flicker of gratitude in his eyes. sukuna, meanwhile, looked utterly pleased, his laughter echoing through the chamber.

“a celebration worthy of my general,” sukuna declared, his tone mocking. “well done, pet. perhaps you are worthy of your title after all.”

you swallowed hard, your body trembling as you knelt before him, his cruel gaze still heavy on you. being sukuna’s consort meant enduring his games, his punishments, and his praise — if it could even be called that.

and yet, you wouldn’t dare question your place by his side.

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[favefandomimagines]

Daylight (r.c)

Summary: it takes Rafe some time to realize what he has

AN: this is very one tree hill code with JJ being very Lucas Scott esque lol and this was PURELY self indulgent, no one asked for this

Y/N Routledge sat on the edge of her bed, feeling like she could throw up at any second. The little plastic stick in her trembling hand bore the answer she had been dreading and hoping wasn’t true. The bold letters stared back at her like they were mocking her.

Pregnant.

Her mind raced. It felt as though the world had tilted off its axis. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight. What now? Who could she possibly confide in about this? How could she even begin to explain? The answer wasn’t simple, not when the father was Rafe Cameron.

For a year, their relationship—or whatever it was—had been a secret. Late-night meetings, whispered words in the dark, stolen moments when no one was looking. There had never been an official label on it. Rafe had made sure of that. “Labels complicate things,” he’d said, and Y/N, hopelessly drawn to him despite every red flag, had agreed.

But now? Things were complicated anyway.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. The door swung open, and there stood her brother, John B, looking confused and concerned.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, leaning against the frame. “You’ve been in here for a while.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She shoved the pregnancy test behind her back, but she wasn’t fast enough.

“What’s that?” His eyes narrowed, the easy-going brotherly demeanor replaced with something sharper.

“Nothing,” she blurted out, but John B wasn’t buying it.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

The lump in her throat grew too large to ignore, and before she knew it, the words came tumbling out. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

For a moment, John B just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a long exhale, he sat down beside her.

“Okay,” he said carefully. “I’m not gonna ask who the father is. That’s your business. But whoever it is, he deserves to know.”

Y/N looked down at the floor, her chest tightening. “I don’t even know how to tell him,” she admitted. “What if he doesn’t want this?”

John B reached over, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Then you don’t need him. You’ve got me. And the rest of the Pogues. We’ll figure it out. This kid's gonna have a pretty cool life, Y/N. I promise.”

Y/N nodded her head. “I’m so scared, JB.” She whispered. John B nodded his own head before he pulled his sister in for a tight hug.

“I know you are. But you’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” He told her gently.

||

Later that evening, Y/N stood nervously outside Tannyhill. Her palms were clammy, her stomach a mess of nerves. She had rehearsed what she wanted to say a thousand times, but now that she was here, the words felt like they dried up in her throat.

When Rafe opened the door, his blue eyes scanned her face, immediately sensing something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “I need to tell you something.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, her voice shaking.

For a moment, he just stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, as the realization sank in, his expression darkened.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, Rafe. I’m serious.” Y/N replied.

He ran a hand over his buzzed his hair, pacing the room. “I… I can’t do this right now,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m trying to get my dad’s business back on track, and now you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”

Y/N felt the sting of his words like a physical blow. “I didn’t plan for this, Rafe! But it’s happening.”

He turned to face her, his eyes cold. “Maybe you should just do it alone. I’m not raising a kid with a Pogue.”

That cut deeper than anything else he’d said. Tears burned in her eyes as she stared at him, her heart breaking. “Really? That’s how you feel?” She asked, her voice unsteady. “Yeah, that’s how I feel. Did you really expect we were going to play big happy family?” He snapped.

Y/N let out a teary scoff before her impulsive thoughts took over. She stepped closer to Rafe, the palm of her hand connecting with his cheek, the sound of the slap echoing throughout the foyer. Without another word, Y/N turned and walked out the door.

||

One year later, and Y/N had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. It wasn’t an easy feat, but Y/N had John B and Sarah. Taking their roles as aunt and uncle way too seriously.

Now, Y/N cradled her one-year-old daughter, Isla, as the Pogues gathered on the beach. The little girl was the spitting image of her father—Rafe’s blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes. It was a constant reminder of the man who had walked away.

But Y/N wasn’t alone. John B, Sarah, JJ, Kiara, Cleo, and Pope had rallied around her, becoming Isla’s extended family. JJ, in particular, had taken to the role of honorary uncle with enthusiasm, and Isla adored him.

As JJ held Isla over the waves, her tiny giggles filled the air, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at you, kiddo,” JJ said, spinning her gently. “You’re a natural beach bum.”

From the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed a familiar figure further down the shore. Rafe was there, flanked by Topper and Kelce, his gaze locked on her. Then, his eyes then shifted to JJ and Isla.

He’d have to be an idiot to deny that that one year old was his. Y/N had kept the baby and now he was feeling an influx of emotions. Anger, regret, jealousy. Jealous that another man was raising his child, jealous that another man was in his place.

Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. JJ walked back to Y/N, handing Isla to her with a smile. Y/N couldn’t help but smile down at her daughter. But then she remembered who was watching them. When she whispered something to JJ, he turned and saw Rafe, his expression immediately hardening.

JJ said something else to her and Y/N walked back towards the rest of the Pogues. Rafe and JJ were now walking towards each other, JJ not messing around when it comes to Isla and Y/N.

“You need to leave her alone,” JJ said, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s my daughter,” Rafe snapped. “I have a right to know her.”

JJ scoffed. “You don’t get to decide that. Y/N does and you left her. You told her you weren’t raising a kid with a Pogue. You don’t deserve a second of her time.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Just because you’re playing house with my girl and my kid doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.” JJ laughed bitterly. “I’m not with Y/N. I’m just picking up the slack from the coward who abandoned them.”

Rafe stood there, seething with anger and regret, as JJ's words lingered in the air. But before he could say anything more, Topper yelled his name.

||

Later that night, Rafe pulled up to the old Maybank property that was now the Pogues sanctuary. He hadn’t prepared a single thing to say to Y/N. He knew there was a very high possibility that she would slam the door in his face.

What he said to her that night was harsh. He knew that and he knew he couldn’t take it back. He knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer the door. Rafe could hear the laughter and the music playing from the other side.

John B was the one to pull the door open, Isla in his arms. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat upon the sight of the little girl. “What are you doing here?” John B asked. “I’m uh, c-can I talk to Y/N?” He stammered.

Y/N’s brother looked at the man with furrowed brows, not used to seeing him in such an insecure, uncertain state. John B hated Rafe for what he did to Y/N, but Isla deserves a father. No matter how that happens.

“Y/N!” John B called. He turned away and walked back down the hall and soon Y/N appeared in the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Rafe asked. Y/N was hesitant; their last conversation did not go well obviously. “Um, sure. We can talk down at the store.” She answered.

The two walked silently down the dock to the bait shop where Y/N knew no one would be eavesdropping on them.

“Rafe, before you say anything, I didn’t want this to be how you found out. I didn’t want it to come to this,” she said quietly, her voice trembling but steady. “But you can’t just expect me to pretend like you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t want this baby. You walked away. You made your choice.”

Rafe flinched, her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but something stopped him. The way she held Isla, the way Isla smiled at her mother, the warmth between them—it hit him all at once. What he had lost, what he could have had, and how foolish he’d been to let pride and fear dictate his actions.

“I—” He paused, swallowing hard. “I screwed up. I was scared, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to be the kind of man you needed.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, but she didn’t look away. “You had a choice, Rafe. We both did. You made yours. I made mine.”

He took a step forward, his gaze falling to the water, as if he were gathering the courage to say what needed to be said. “I was wrong. And I know it. I’ve been trying to fix everything else, but I didn’t even try with you… with Isla. I was too damn proud. Too scared. But I don’t want to be that man anymore. I want to be a part of her life. I want to be a part of your life.”

Y/N blinked, the warmth in her chest slowly spreading, though the ache of everything that had happened still lingered. “It’s not going to be easy. We can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“I don’t want to,” he said softly. “I want to start fresh. As a father. As someone you can count on.”

A long silence passed between them, the weight of the past still hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded. “Okay. But you need to prove it. You need to show me you’re in this. All in. For her. For me.”

Rafe’s heart pounded, but he could see the flicker of hope in her eyes. Hope he thought he’d lost. “I will. I swear I will.”

||

The sun was shining brightly over the beach house, casting a golden glow over the yard where Isla’s second birthday party was in full swing.

The Pogues, along with Rafe, were scattered across the yard, setting up and getting ready to celebrate the little girl who had brought so much joy into their lives.

John B and Pope were hanging colorful decorations from the trees and the porch, adding the final touches to a vibrant banner that read, “Happy Birthday, Isla!”

Sarah and Kie were carefully bringing out a pile of birthday gifts, wrapping paper and bows sparkling in the sunlight.

Meanwhile, Isla was darting around the yard, laughing as JJ ran after her, pretending to be a superhero.

JJ scooped her up in his arms, making jet engine noises as he spun her around, keeping her distracted so she wouldn’t see the presents waiting inside.

Rafe stood off to the side, leaning against the window frame of the house, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before him. His heart swelled as he watched Isla giggle, her little feet kicking in the air as JJ swung her around like a plane.

Her laugh was like music to his ears, a reminder of how much he’d missed and how far he’d come since that day on the beach.

Y/N, who had just finished setting the cake down on the table, noticed Rafe standing there, his eyes soft and full of affection. She smiled to herself and walked over to him, sliding her arm around his bicep as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What’s got you all smiley?” she asked softly, her voice gentle but teasing.

Rafe looked down at her, a look of gratitude and tenderness crossing his features. “You,” he said simply. “Isla. You letting me back into your life and into hers.”

Y/N’s heart melted, and she lifted her chin to look up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him softly, the kind of kiss that spoke of everything they’d been through and everything they’d built together.

As they pulled apart, John B appeared at the doorway with a grin. “Alright, JJ, it’s time for cake and presents!”

JJ, who had been in the middle of a game of "airplane" with Isla, immediately scooped her up again, making exaggerated flying noises as he carried her inside. Isla squealed with laughter, her little arms flailing in the air as JJ pretended she was a plane about to take off.

As they entered the living room, JJ passed Isla off to Rafe with a grin. “Special delivery!”

Rafe smiled and crouched down to gently set Isla in her chair. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head, a tender moment of fatherly affection. Isla beamed up at him, her tiny hands reaching up to grab his face, a look of adoration in her eyes.

Y/N stood beside them, watching with a heart full of love as Rafe straightened up and looked at her with a smile. This moment was everything they’d fought for—a family, together, stronger than ever.

As Isla sat at the table, her little hands covered in frosting as she tried to grab a slice of cake, Rafe took a seat next to her, helping her scoop up a piece. Y/N joined them, wrapping an arm around Rafe’s shoulder as she placed a kiss on Isla’s cheek.

The room was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and joy as everyone gathered around, ready to celebrate Isla’s special day. It was simple, but perfect. They were a family now, not just by blood, but by choice. And in this moment, surrounded by love and happiness, they all knew they’d found something rare and precious.

John B raised his glass, a grin on his face as he toasted, “To my niece Isla, the brightest light in all of our lives.”

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses in unison, as Isla clapped her little hands, excited by the attention.

“Cheers!” Rafe said, glancing over at Y/N with a smile that said it all.

Y/N smiled back, squeezing his hand. “Cheers.”

As the cake was passed around, Isla sat contentedly on Rafe’s lap, covered in frosting and giggling with pure joy. And in that moment, as they all looked on at the little girl they had all come to love, Rafe and Y/N knew this was exactly where they were meant to be—together, as a family.

[brunchable]

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆.

《 Chapter 5: Your Crying Shoulder. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: When everything falling apart, you found yourself in the arms of the person you least expected. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. This will be updated every FRIDAY(AEST). I can't help but place a TikTok meme in here somewhere lmao. Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @ khaer for the divider.

Mission Report - J. B. Barnes To: N. Fury Subject: Family Dynamics

Key Findings

1. Family Structure

Y/N Y/LN: CEO of The Emporium NYC, handling New York operations, public relations, and key corporate responsibilities.

Jonathan [Half-Brother]: Oversees Miami branch expansions and operational strategies. Professional but distant relationship with Y/N, characterized by mutual respect and a clear division of responsibilities.

2. Operational Observations

Financial Irregularities: Offshore accounts linked to Emporium subsidiaries display significant fund transfers with unclear purposes. Investigating their potential connection to Hydra-related activities is a priority.

Board Affiliations: Certain board members are linked to political figures and tech firms specializing in advanced security technologies. Their involvement requires further investigation for possible ties to Hydra.

Employee Turnover: Leadership restructuring followed Y/N’s promotion. Several former executives now hold external consulting roles, potentially redirecting focus from Emporium’s internal operations.

3. Personal Relationships

Rhys: Y/N’s boyfriend and the son of a global luxury hotel mogul. While not directly involved in Emporium operations, his influential family ties and potential connections to Y/N's network merit attention.

4. Behavioral Insights

Y/N demonstrates dedication to her role but shows signs of frustration with corporate pressures. She appears unaware of financial irregularities within the organization, suggesting compartmentalization of information.

No evidence connects Y/N directly to suspicious activities. Monitoring her relationship with Rhys could provide additional context, as his background and resources may intersect with Emporium’s broader dealings.

Recommendations

1. Background Checks: Investigate board members, financial consultants, and Rhys’s family business for any links to Emporium's offshore holdings and potential Hydra connections.

2. Monitor Relationships: Subtly observe Y/N’s interactions with Rhys and board members for indirect insights.

3. Enhanced Financial Scrutiny: Deepen analysis of offshore accounts to establish potential links between Emporium funds and Hydra-backed projects.

End of Report

× × × ×

Figaro pranced confidently into Bucky’s apartment, his tail held high, a familiar item clamped between his teeth. Alpine looked up from her spot on the windowsill, tilting her head as she watched him strut across the room.

“Alpine,” Figaro greeted, setting down the item—a soft, worn scarf that unmistakably carried your scent.

Alpine sniffed at the scarf, then looked at Figaro, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “Your human let you out with… that?”

Figaro settled down next to her, casually licking a paw. 

“Oh, she doesn’t know I took it,” he replied with a lazy flick of his tail. “But I thought you might appreciate a little reminder of her.” He gave her a knowing look, lowering his voice. “She was patching up your human’s busted lip the other night, by the way.”

Alpine’s eyes narrowed with amusement. “Did she now? And did you happen to notice the way he was looking at her?” she asked, her whiskers twitching.

“Oh, I noticed. He was all ‘I’m tough, but not too tough for you,’” Figaro said, imitating a dramatic swoon, then rolled his eyes with exaggerated flair. “Honestly, he’s got it bad. She was fussing over him, and he was eating it up like a kitten with a saucer of cream.”

Alpine purred thoughtfully. “Well, it’s about time. But he won’t admit that to himself.”

“Yeah, well, the issue,” Figaro continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, “is that there’s another guy in her life. Rhys.” He spat out the name with as much disdain as a cat could muster. “Total bore. Calls her ‘baby’ like it’s some kind of magic spell. And he smells like cheap cologne. Honestly, his existence is an insult to felines everywhere.”

Alpine’s ears perked up. “So he’s competition?”

Figaro scoffed. 

“Please. He’s like the knockoff toy they keep at the bottom of the discount bin. My human doesn’t even smile around him anymore; she just tolerates him. But every time your guy shows up, she lights up like it’s Christmas morning.” He stretched, his claws extending as if to make his point. “I’m telling you, we’ve got to get rid of him. For the sake of all that is right in the world.”

Alpine let out a thoughtful meow, eyeing the scarf Figaro had brought. “You know, if we could just keep nudging them together, maybe they’ll take the hint. They’re not too bright, but they’ve got chemistry.”

“Exactly!” Figaro said, his eyes gleaming. “Our owners are hopeless without us. This is a mission, Alpine. A noble mission. A mission to save her from that pathetic excuse for a partner.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “And frankly, if I have to listen to him call her ‘baby’ one more time, I might cough up a hairball on his shoes.”

Alpine let out a low chuckle, nudging Figaro with her paw. “Well then, Mr. Matchmaker. What’s the plan?”

“Oh, I’ve got ideas,” Figaro said, eyes narrowing as if deep in thought. “Plenty of ideas. After all, I’m doing the world a favor.”

× × × ×

There was cold silence since that tense encounter with Rhys, and though you’d pushed it to the back of your mind, his apology text had come through late tonight, begging you to talk. You decided, almost against your better judgment, to go. Maybe it was a habit, maybe just closure. But as you reached the hotel and made your way up to his office, a cold, uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

The hall was dimly lit as you approached, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Then, as you neared the frosted glass door of Rhys’ office, you stopped in your tracks. Two silhouettes were visible through the blurred glass, close, intimate. You watched as Rhys pressed a woman—with a golden hair clip—against the glass, their forms locked together in a kiss that left little to the imagination.

Your throat tightened, a dull ache building in your chest as the weight of the betrayal hit you. To be honest, I felt like I already knew it, you thought, the silent admission somehow worse than the scene unfolding in front of you. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. You tried to swallow down the emotions swirling within you—anger, sadness, and that unmistakable pang of disappointment. Being cheated on hurt, even when you’d mentally checked out of the relationship. It chipped away at something deeper, a quiet part of your self-worth you hadn’t realized still cared.

Water rimmed your eyes, but you blinked it back, refusing to let him take that from you too. You inhaled deeply, straightened your shoulders, and turned away from the office door, leaving as quietly as you’d arrived.

× × × ×  Fews days after

Bucky squinted, utterly baffled. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he muttered. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling absurdly judged by a cat.

Alpine huffed, letting out a short, dismissive meow, clearly unimpressed with whatever answer she’d decided on. She trotted off toward her food bowl, pausing just once to throw him a final, critical look before bending to eat.

“Alright, sure, just go back to ignoring me,” Bucky grumbled, watching her. But as he leaned against the counter, glancing down at the faint trace of your scent still on his sleeve, he couldn’t help feeling like Alpine had silently decided something about him that she wasn’t going to share anytime soon.

Bucky watched Alpine chowing down on her food, her tail flicking in satisfaction as she devoured each bite with gusto. He allowed himself a moment of peace, but then came the unmistakable sound of someone struggling with his lock.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered under his breath, his mind flashing back to the night you’d drunkenly tried breaking into his apartment, mistaking it for yours. Swinging the door open, he was prepared for a repeat performance, only to be met with Sam, frozen in mid-action, his hand clutching a spare key. Behind him stood Steve, holding two large bags of takeout, and Nat, arms crossed with a smirk.

“Uh… hey, Buck,” Sam greeted, attempting a casual tone while quickly tucking the key behind his back like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.

“Why are you trying to break into my place?” Bucky narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

Sam cleared his throat, glancing at Steve and Nat for backup. 

“We’re, uh… your backup! Sent by Fury.” He flashed a grin that looked anything but innocent.

“Backup?” Bucky repeated, deadpan, as the three of them filed in with the casualness of seasoned intruders. “Fury said it was a simple assignment. Barely a mission.”

Steve rolled his eyes, giving Bucky a pitying look as he passed by to set down the bags on the table. “You really believed that? Seriously?”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get a word in, Nat had already made her way over to Alpine, who blinked up at her with the smug satisfaction of a cat who’d been expecting her. Nat scratched Alpine’s ears as Alpine purred, looking even more at ease than Bucky had ever seen her.

Just as Nat leaned down to pet Alpine, her gaze flicked up, catching sight of Bucky’s busted lip. She raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Nice lip, Buck. Trouble on the way to the door?”

Bucky’s hand instinctively went up to his mouth. “Oh, that? I… tripped over Alpine.”

Steve’s head whipped around, eyes narrowing as he tried to keep a straight face. 

“You tripped… over Alpine?” He looked down at the serene, not-at-all-menacing cat sitting contentedly by Nat’s side, then back up at Bucky, clearly struggling to hold back a laugh.

Bucky crossed his arms, his expression turning defensive. “It’s possible, alright? She’s tiny but lethal.”

Sam let out a snort. “Yeah, sure. I’m sure the Winter Soldier can handle a battalion of Hydra agents but gets taken out by a house cat.”

“Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” Bucky just rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as Sam already raiding the fridge like he owned it. 

“Oh no, please, make yourselves at home. I’ll just find somewhere else to live, shall I?” Bucky’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he watched the scene unfold. 

“Buck, you have got to keep better beer in here. This stuff is practically water.” He settled on a bottle anyway, taking a long swig before glancing back at Bucky. “We’re just here to help, man. Think of us as… extended housemates.”

Bucky crossed his arms tighter, a look of utter disbelief on his face. “Extended housemates?” He gestured at the room. “You act like you already live here!”

Steve, entirely unbothered, started setting out the food, carefully placing burgers on plates and arranging napkins. “We thought you might need a little company. I mean, it’s a Friday night, after all.”

“I’m perfectly fine alone, thanks,” Bucky replied, his gaze narrowing as he watched Sam polish off half a beer in one go. “How about you go keep each other company?”

Steve chuckled, handing a plate to Nat. “You said the same thing last time we showed up. Yet, here we are. Again.”

Nat, now comfortably settled on the couch with Alpine, flashed him a wicked grin. “Let’s not be dramatic, Bucky. Just think of us as… spontaneous visitors.”

“Visitors don’t usually come with their own keys,” Bucky grumbled, his gaze settling on Sam, who was busy rifling through his cabinets for snacks. “And they certainly don’t bring takeout to make themselves at home.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed. “You think of it as invading your privacy; I think of it as improving the vibe around here.”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “I swear, one of these days, I’m changing the locks.”

“Good luck with that. We’ll just get new keys.” Nat smirked, scratching Alpine’s head as if she were orchestrating a coup. 

Bucky glared, but Steve was already setting a plate piled with ribs and a burger in front of him. “Eat up, Buck. Before Sam devours everything like the human garbage disposal he is.”

Sam waved his beer bottle, looking completely unbothered. “Hey, I resent that. This is strategic eating. Besides, with your ‘barely-a-mission,’ we need all the fuel we can get.”

“I’m starting to think Fury set me up.” Bucky rubbed his forehead, exasperated but clearly losing the battle.

Steve just grinned, popping open his own beer. “I’m sure Fury thought you’d appreciate the backup.”

“Or at least tolerate it,” Sam added, grabbing a handful of fries and popping them into his mouth.

With a resigned sigh, Bucky sank into a chair, shaking his head. “You guys are impossible.”

“Impossible is our specialty,” Sam shot back, raising his beer in a mock toast. “To back up, and to Buck finally admitting he likes having us around.”

“Let’s not get carried away.” Bucky snorted. 

Alpine purred louder, clearly pleased with the lively atmosphere, while Nat smirked at Bucky. “See? Even Alpine agrees. You’re just a grump with a soft spot for us, admit it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine. But next time, bring your own key.”

“Oh, we will,” Steve assured him with a smirk. “And maybe a couch, a pillow or two.”

Sam, now munching contentedly on fries, raised his beer again. “To crashing Bucky’s place—where every night is a mission, and the food’s free.”

Bucky took a reluctant bite of his burger, trying to ignore how comfortable his “guests” had made themselves. Just as he was starting to think the worst was over, Steve casually leaned over to Sam, as if sharing a quiet plan.

“We’ll grab the rest of our stuff from the car when Buck’s asleep,” Steve said, completely deadpan.

Bucky nearly choked on his burger, staring at Steve like he’d lost his mind. “The rest of your stuff? What are you talking about?”

Sam, without missing a beat, grinned. “Perfect. Nat can take the bedroom, and the three of us can crash in the living room. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Nat raised her eyebrows, feigning delight. “I called dibs on the bed, anyway. I always knew Buck had the fluffiest pillows.”

“Hold on, hold on! This isn’t some youth hostel! You all have your own places!” Bucky’s face twisted in horror as he looked around the room. 

“Yeah, but none of our places have a view of you panicking about your personal space.” Steve looked unbothered, casually unwrapping another burger.

Bucky glared. 

“I’m not panicking! I just—” He waved a hand in utter frustration. “This is my place! You can’t just... commandeer my bed!”

“Don’t worry, Buck. We’ll all be snug as bugs on the floor, reliving those good ol’ days in the barracks.” Sam leaned back, looking way too comfortable for someone who’d apparently just broken in.

“Except Nat,” Steve corrected, “who will be enjoying Buck’s luxurious mattress.”

Bucky looked to Alpine, almost pleading. “You see what I deal with? Even the cat respects my space more than you three!”

Alpine simply blinked, looking rather indifferent to her owner’s plight as she happily settled on Nat’s lap.

“Oh, come on, Buck,” Sam said, reaching over to ruffle Bucky’s hair. “We’ll make it fun! Popcorn, ghost stories, some embarrassing truths about Fury… just like old times.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve added, grinning. “Think of it as team bonding.”

Bucky threw his hands up. “This isn’t bonding! This is trespassing! And I don’t want to hear any ghost stories or truths about Fury. I want my bed, my couch, and my fridge not raided!”

Nat sighed, patting Alpine who purred louder. “Look, Buck. Clearly, Alpine’s on board. You’re outvoted.”

“Traitor.” Bucky narrowed his eyes, looking at Alpine in betrayal.

Steve chuckled, leaning back with a smug grin. “Face it, Buck. Tonight’s already decided.”

Bucky let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head as he muttered under his breath. “Next time, I’m leaving the country.”

× × × ×

You strode into the dimly lit restaurant, greeted by a chorus of cheers and mock applause as Serena, Mei, and Jane raised their glasses, voices rising in unison. "Woooo, here comes the CEO!"

You shook your head, laughing as you took your seat, subtly glancing around the table. Your gaze caught on one unfamiliar face, though it took a split second longer for the memory to click into place. Carly. She was Rhys' new assistant, a realization that caused your brow to lift just slightly. You’d thought she looked familiar from somewhere else, but with her new polished appearance and newfound confidence, it was hard to tell right away.

Chloe, ever the instigator, nudged Carly forward with a smile that held a hint of challenge. 

“Ladies, meet Carly. You might remember her, Y/N. She used to work at The Emporium,” she said, her words smooth but her gaze pointed.

You kept your expression cool, a practiced smile settling on your lips. “Ah, that explains why she looks familiar.” You gave Carly a nod, and she responded with a forced smile, her eyes holding something less friendly beneath the surface.

The evening moved along, filled with laughter and a few rounds of drinks. Serena, Mei, and Jane offered congratulations, and Sarah, as always, played the role of your unwavering cheerleader, throwing a few enthusiastic compliments your way. But as the night flowed, it was Mei who leaned in, her voice dipping into a sympathetic tone.

“So, I heard Rhys de Armande cheated on you.”

You blinked, not expecting the topic to surface so bluntly. You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, though a subtle flicker crossed your face.

“You forced a light laugh, though your jaw tightened beneath it. “Oh, it was probably because I told him to take his bare minimum and keep it out of my sight. Pretty sure he wanted to vanish into thin air after that, especially since his entire office got to witness it.”

Jane, Mei, and Serena burst into laughter, clearly picturing the scene as you animatedly relayed the story.

“Oh my gosh, that’s incredible,” Serena giggled, shaking her head. “He absolutely deserved every bit of that.”

You let out a faint laugh, flipping your hair back and letting it settle over your shoulder as you raised an eyebrow. “Ugh, I’m too busy with work to be hurt by this kind of stuff,” you replied, feigning a casual air as you took a sip of your drink, though the words had a hard edge underneath.

“Do you know who the woman was?” Serena leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

Chloe’s lips curled into a faint smirk.

“I mean, with Rhys’ type, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s someone… eager to climb the ladder, if you know what I mean,” Mei said.

Sarah’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth, ready to retort, but you discreetly squeezed her hand under the table, keeping your expression smooth. You didn’t need her stepping in right now. 

“You should’ve grabbed her hair!” Jane piped up, half-laughing, her fist in the air as if she were ready to throw a punch herself, “I respect the way you’re so laid back, because honestly I would’ve gone apeshit.”

“Oh, forget it. He’s the one who cheated. I couldn’t care less about her,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “She’s probably no different from him—anyways! Enough about him!”

As the words left your mouth, Carly’s face visibly tightened, her forced smile slipping as she pushed back her chair, muttering under her breath as she walked off toward the restroom. Her eyes flickered with a glare that lingered on you as she departed, barely concealing the frustration bubbling beneath her cool facade.

Serena raised her eyebrows, catching the shift in mood. “What’s with her? She was glaring at you the whole time.”

“Oh, who knows,” Sarah murmured, watching Carly’s retreating figure with a slight smirk, her hand still entwined in yours beneath the table, a sign of solidarity.

Chloe glanced after Carly, a subtle, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Probably just adjusting to her new… surroundings.”

You glanced down at your phone, barely containing the irritation rising within you as you took in the image on the screen: Rhys and Carly, cozy on a beach, his arms wrapped around her as if he hadn’t been apologizing to you just days earlier. It was from an unknown number, but there was no doubt in your mind who had sent it.

With a measured breath, you slipped the phone back into your bag and stood, offering your friends a polite excuse before following the path Carly had taken. You found her just outside the restrooms, leaning casually against the wall with a smug smile, almost as if she’d been waiting.

“Why did you send me that?” You stopped in front of her, gaze steady.

She didn’t bother hiding her grin, crossing her arms as she looked you over. “Because I wanted you to know.”

“Know what?” You raised an eyebrow. “That Rhys cheated on me?”

“No,” she replied with a sickeningly sweet smile, crossing her arms tighter. “That I seduced your boyfriend. You seemed completely fine with it.”

A scoff escaped you as you let out a dry laugh, crossing your own arms. 

“Did you expect me to crumble just because I was cheated on?” You tilted your head, studying her. “Alright, let’s say you two ‘fell in love.’ Then you should be apologizing to me—”

Her smile faltered as she cut you off, her voice raising a fraction. “I felt guilty at first. But then you acted like it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t curious about me, didn’t even acknowledge what I did. So my self-esteem? It just kept plummeting.”

You looked at her, incredulous, and chuckled coldly. “Wow—seriously? You’re such a loser—You’re blaming me for your self-esteem issues?”

Her lips pursed in irritation. “Why shouldn’t I? Why do you think I can’t do what you do? I can seduce your man and be just as successful—be just like you. But you never gave me the chance. Not only that, you took my opportunity at The Emporium away from me.”

“Ah,” you murmured, amusement in your voice. “So this is about me firing you?”

Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. “You didn’t deserve to be in that position. You act so high and mighty, like nothing can shake you. You have it all, don’t you? The job, the influence, the respect. But guess what? I can take what’s yours. I already did, didn’t I?”

You laughed, unbothered, shaking your head slowly. 

“You really don’t get it, do you?” You stepped closer, gaze locked on hers. “If you couldn’t handle the job, that’s on you. Throwing this little tantrum only proves I was right about you. As for Rhys…” You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “You can keep him. My ex cheating doesn’t affect my work—but you? You do. So maybe I’ll have a word with his parents and see how your career fairs then.”

You turned to leave, but her voice came out sharp, dripping with venom. “You can’t pretend you’re not bitter about it. That’s why you’re here, right? To confront me?”

Pausing, you glanced over your shoulder, an icy smile on your lips. “Ever step on something nasty on the sidewalk? Hmm I don’t know like shit? It’s a pain, but you don’t let it ruin your day. You wipe it off and move on. That’s what you and Rhys are to me—Shit—something I’ll be glad to scrape off my shoe.”

Without another glance, you strode back to the table, your head held high. Your friends glanced up as you approached, a few eyebrows raised.

“Everything okay?” Sarah asked, eyeing you with mild concern.

You forced a polite smile, nodding as you picked up your bag. “Actually, I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow. I should get going.”

With a few quick goodbyes, you left, satisfaction settling over you as you stepped out, knowing you’d left Carly exactly where she belonged—behind you.

× × × × 

“Sarah! Open the noor! I know you're in there, Sarah! Open the noor!” Your drunken voice slurred through the quiet hallway, louder with every knock.

Inside, Bucky froze, instantly recognizing your voice. His eyes widened, and he shot a panicked look at the mountain of files scattered across his coffee table—the very files on you and The Emporium that he’d been piecing through with Steve, Sam, and Nat.

“Everyone! Gather the files, now!” he hissed, immediately jumping to action.

“What? Why? Relax, man, we’re not under attack or anything.” Sam raised an eyebrow, lounging on the couch with a half-eaten sandwich.

Bucky shot him a glare, practically yanking the files out from under Sam’s plate. “One of our ‘subjects’ is outside the door, Sam! Now MOVE!”

“Wait, you mean her?” Steve asked, eyes widening as the banging on the door got louder.

“Yes!” Bucky hissed, shoving an armful of files into Steve’s hands. “Now stop talking and start hiding!”

Nat rolled her eyes, stacking papers hastily. “Isn’t this a little dramatic? She’s probably just lost.”

“She’s not ‘lost,’ she’s drunk!” Bucky snapped. “And I’d rather not explain why I’m reviewing her life story with three nosy intruders!”

“Oh, we’re the intruders now?” Steve muttered as he clutched a bundle of files to his chest. “Could’ve sworn we were here for your mission!”

The banging grew even louder. 

“Sarah! Don’t you ignore me, woman!” Your voice was muffled but determined, sounding like you were one step away from kicking the door down.

“Go, go, go! Get in there!” Bucky herded them like sheep, arms waving wildly as he tried to push them toward the bedroom.

“Ow, Bucky, stop shoving!” Sam complained, elbowing Bucky back as he tripped over a rogue sneaker. “Seriously, why are you acting like we’re about to be raided?”

“Because she’ll see this mess and ask questions!” Bucky shot back, pushing him forward again. “Just get in and be quiet!”

Nat stumbled as Bucky prodded her toward the door, muttering, “Why are you so panicked? Did you do something wrong, Buck?”

“Would you all just move?!” Bucky whispered furiously, practically bulldozing them all through his bedroom door. “I’ll explain later. Just don’t make a sound!”

Steve stumbled, catching himself with a loud “Ow!” as Bucky finally got all three of them behind the door. He shut it firmly and leaned against it with a sigh, only to hear a loud “Shh!” from Nat, Sam, and Steve bickering in hushed whispers.

“Move your elbow!”

“Steve, that’s my foot—ow!”

“Could you three not sound like an entire stampede?”

Outside, your voice grew louder, slurring but stubborn as ever. “Saarah! Come on, I brought sushiiii!”

Bucky took a breath and opened the door, his expression calm yet barely holding it together. There you stood, wobbling slightly, hair slightly mussed, and an unmistakable grin on your face when you saw him.

“Oh! Sarah, you changed! You look so much taller… and more... Bucky-like.”

“Uh, hi,” he said as he steadied you. “I think you might have the wrong door, trash panda.”

You blinked, frowning, and swayed a little closer. “Wrong door? But I brought sushi! And, wait—” You squinted at him, leaning in. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, Bucky,” he confirmed, holding back a chuckle as you gave him a suspiciously scrutinizing look.

“Ohhh…” you drawled, clearly trying to process it all. “Well, if you see Sarah, tell her the sushi is... sushi-ing.”

He nodded, keeping his tone light, even though his friends were probably eavesdropping as best they could. 

“Will do. And, uh… maybe we should get you home?”

“Good idea. But you keep this. Looks like you could use some fish.” You nodded, albeit unsteadily, handing him a stray piece of sushi. 

You gave Bucky a wobbly smile, one that looked a little too determined for someone in your state. Before Bucky could stop you, you swayed forward, making a beeline past him and into his apartment.

“Wait, Y/N—this isn’t… Sarah’s place!” he said, barely catching up as you staggered into his kitchen.

“Close enough,” you slurred with a grin, swaying dramatically from side to side as you reached for the fridge handle. Alpine, sensing a new friend in distress, trotted over, rubbing against your legs with enthusiastic little chirps.

“Oh! Hey, kitty!” you cooed, reaching down to pet her, then looking up at Bucky with wide, innocent eyes. “Sarah’s cat never welcomes me like this. See? She gets me.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, half-amused, half-panicked. “Right. Because Alpine just loves guests raiding the kitchen.”

You opened the fridge door, inspecting the shelves as if on a mission. 

“Where’s the… the ice cream?” you muttered, voice muffled by the refrigerator door. “Sarah always has chocolate fudge swirl, and I need it.”

“Seriously, you’re in the wrong apartment,” Bucky tried, sounding both exasperated and entertained as he reached out, but you sidestepped, one hand still on the fridge door, the other now waving vaguely in the air.

“Shhh, Bucky,” you chided, squinting as you leaned in further, peering deeper into the fridge with a sense of deep concentration. Alpine padded around you, her tail curling around your ankle, clearly thrilled to have you there.

“Listen, Bucky,” you slurred, not even glancing up, “all I want… is chocolate ice cream and maybe… maybe a good laugh. Do you have tissues? I feel like I’ll need them, like, a lot of them.”

Bucky couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He tried his best to guide you away from the fridge gently, but you shot him a mildly annoyed look, shoving a stray pack of carrots aside as if they were personally offensive.

“Don’t you dare hide the good stuff behind the veggies,” you said, mock-scolding him as Alpine hopped onto the counter, watching the scene with wide, curious eyes, tail twitching.

“Really, Alpine?” Bucky muttered at his cat, who was clearly rooting for you and even pawed at Bucky’s hand as if to say, Let her have the ice cream!

“I knew you’d understand me, Alpine,” you cooed at the cat, as if she were your personal support group. “See, Bucky? Even she gets it. She knows.”

Bucky sighed, half-heartedly resigned. “You know what, fine. If Alpine says so, who am I to argue?”

Finally, you pulled out a random tub—yogurt, not ice cream—and peered at it in disappointment. 

“Greek yogurt? Bucky, are you… are you okay?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, perfectly fine, thanks.”

You blinked at him, still clutching the tub. “Well, clearly, you’re living a sad existence if this is all you’ve got.”

“Or I’m just not prepared for unexpected trash pandas who raid my fridge,” he replied, crossing his arms, trying not to burst out laughing as you clung to Alpine for support, who purred loudly, delighted with the chaos.

“Fine, then!” you declared dramatically, patting Alpine’s head. “Alpine and I will fend for ourselves.” You turned on your heel (or tried to, at least), your balance giving out just slightly as you wobbled with an exaggerated sway. Alpine gave an encouraging “mrrp!” as if saying, Yes! Go forth!

Bucky finally took pity on you, grabbing a pint of actual ice cream from the freezer, waving it like a peace offering. “This? Will this make you happy, your highness?”

You lit up, the joy on your face as radiant as if he’d handed you a crown. “Now that’s more like it!” you cheered, taking the tub, your steps still swaying as you made your way to his couch.

Bucky followed you over, shaking his head as you sat down, giving Alpine a spot next to you. He sat down nearby, stifling a chuckle as you dug into the ice cream.

“So… just gonna crash here tonight, then?” he asked, leaning back with a smirk.

You waved the spoon dismissively, barely even looking up. “Obviously. And you, Bucky Barnes, need to get more ice cream. Greek yogurt’s just… depressing.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Noted.”

You tore into the box of tissues, your frustration boiling over as you whipped open the plastic bag for trash with the precision of someone handling a life-or-death task. In one hand, you wielded the spoon like a weapon, in the other, a tissue you’d already shredded halfway. Bucky sat a few feet away, wide-eyed, clearly out of his depth. Alpine perched on the coffee table instead, her tail swishing in judgment, shooting Bucky a look that all but screamed, Fix this.

“You good there?” Bucky asked cautiously, his voice hesitant, like he wasn’t sure whether he should move closer or start looking for an escape route.

You let out a short, sharp laugh—bitter, too loud for the small space. “Good? Oh yeah, I’m great! I mean, how could I not be? My ex-boyfriend cheated on me with his assistant, who, surprise, also happens to be the same girl I fired for being utterly incompetent.”

Bucky, sitting stiffly on the couch, could only blink as you laughed. Not a gentle laugh, but one that bordered on hysteria, punctuated by short, sharp breaths. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from something funny; it was the kind that cracked through the tension when words couldn’t quite hold the weight of everything you were feeling.

“Oh, my God!” you exclaimed, raising your spoon as if to make a toast. “It’s just perfect, isn’t it? Fired her for being terrible at customer service, and what does she do? Rebounds as my boyfriend’s personal assistant. Like, how poetic is that?” You gestured with the tissue, accidentally flinging it onto the coffee table, but you didn’t stop. 

“And then—get this—she blames me for her low self-esteem! Like, excuse me for not sending her a gift basket after she slept with my boyfriend. I mean—” You let out a bark of laughter, shaking your head as tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You can’t make this stuff up!”

“And then tonight?” You gestured wildly with your spoon. “Tonight, I had to sit there, all smiles, pretending like everything was fine, because God forbid I let anyone think I’m not. And Carly—oh, Carly—had the audacity to act like she’s the victim. She felt bad about it! Isn’t that just hilarious?” You scooped another bite of ice cream, your laughter spilling out, sharp and brittle, filling the air like broken glass.

Bucky sat frozen, his jaw slightly ajar, his heart twisting as he watched you spiral. You leaned forward, still laughing, the sound echoing unnaturally in the quiet apartment. You looked absurd, sitting there with a tub of ice cream and tissues in hand, trying to force humor into something that was clearly tearing you apart.

“Y/N,” Bucky said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t seem to hear him, your laugh rising in pitch as you tilted your head back, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s hilarious, really. Just the perfect little tragedy. I kind of saw it coming, you know? Rhys was always—”

“Y/N.” Bucky’s voice was firmer this time, cutting through the haze of your spiraling thoughts like a blade.

He moved off the couch, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his steady blue eyes locking onto yours. The laughter caught in your throat as you met his gaze. There was no judgment in his expression, no pity—just an unwavering presence that felt like a lifeline. His gaze softened, like he was offering you something you weren’t sure how to accept.

“Just cry,” he said, his voice calm but resolute.

Your lips parted as if to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. The lump in your throat tightened, and for a moment, you thought you could hold it together. But the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—broke down every defense you’d spent the evening building.

“Don’t force yourself to laugh,” he added gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s okay to cry.”

Your smile wavered, trembling at the edges before fading completely. You looked away, the dam bursting as tears spilled over, hot and relentless. A shaky breath escaped you, and your hands fumbled with the tissue box, but they were trembling too much to hold anything.

Bucky let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the closed bedroom door. He rarely, if ever, allowed anyone to see this side of him. Vulnerability wasn’t something he was used to sharing—especially not with his friends only a room away. But for you? He didn’t hesitate.

“Ah, screw it,” he muttered under his breath.

Alpine let out a soft “mrrp” of approval, watching as Bucky leaned forward, wrapping a careful arm around your smaller frame. He didn’t say anything, just held you close, letting you bury your face against his chest. His touch was gentle but grounding, the steady rhythm of his breathing anchoring you as you finally let yourself break.

He rested his chin lightly on top of your head, his other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back. The weight of your head against his chest grounded him as much as he hoped it comforted you.

Alpine, perched on the coffee table, watched with what could only be described as smug satisfaction, her tail flicking contentedly.

Bucky’s awkwardness melted away bit by bit as he felt your breathing begin to even out against him. He let out a soft sigh, glancing down at you. Alpine’s watchful gaze was fixed on him, as if daring him to get this right. Bucky cleared his throat, searching for the right words, feeling more vulnerable than he’d admit.

“You know… you’re stronger than you think,” he said, his thumb grazing your shoulder without him realizing. “You take on so much, and you do it with so much grace. Even when you don’t have to.”

Your breath caught, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze, his blue eyes soft but unwavering.

“I know you don’t need me or anyone else to tell you how incredible you are. But, just… let someone see it, will you? Because you… you deserve that. And I mean every damn word.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you felt a rare sense of peace, your heart light in a way it hadn’t felt in so long. Bucky looked at you, his expression softening further as he took in the sight of your smile, his own heart skipping a beat.

Just as the warmth of Bucky’s words started to sink in, your phone erupted with an insistent buzz, breaking the peaceful moment. You glanced down to see Rhys’ name flashing on the screen. You groaned, but before you could even react, Bucky had snatched the phone from your hand, holding it up as it vibrated relentlessly.

On the fourth ring, Bucky pressed "answer," bringing the phone to his ear with a calm confidence that sent a thrill through you, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm.

“Rhys right? You know, she’s a little busy right now…” he greeted, the single word laced with a tension that could cut glass. “Here’s the deal: you’re gonna stop calling her. Got that?”

You watched, wide-eyed, as Bucky ended the call without waiting for a response and promptly shut off the phone. He set it down with an air of finality, his gaze meeting yours. Before you could form a coherent thought, a loud knock echoed through the apartment, making you both jump slightly.

“Y/N? I know you’re in there.” The voice outside was unmistakable—Rhys.

Your stomach churned as Bucky’s eyes flicked to the door, his jaw tightening.

“What the hell?” he muttered, standing up, his posture instantly tense.

“Bucky…” you started, but he raised a hand, silencing you with a look.

The knock came again, harder this time, followed by Rhys’ impatient voice. “Come on, Y/N, open the door! Let’s talk.”

Alpine, perched on the coffee table, let out an annoyed hiss, her tail flicking sharply as if she shared Bucky’s distaste for the situation. Bucky moved toward the door with deliberate steps, glancing briefly at the bedroom where Sam, Steve, and Nat were undoubtedly eavesdropping.

“Stay here,” Bucky instructed, his voice low and commanding. You watched as he reached for the door, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.

The door creaked open, revealing Rhys standing in the dim hallway, his expression a mix of desperation and annoyance.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was dangerously quiet, but the threat beneath it was clear.

Rhys crossed his arms, his gaze darting past Bucky into the apartment. “I’m here to talk to Y/N. This is between me and her, so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh, I mind,” Bucky shot back, stepping further into the doorway, blocking your view. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“You don’t speak for her,” Rhys snapped, his voice rising. “Y/N!” he shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. “You can’t avoid me forever!”

The tension in the room was palpable, and you stood frozen, torn between staying put and stepping in. But before you could decide, Rhys’ voice dropped, and the words that followed sent a chill down your spine.

“I know what you’re hiding.”

Bucky’s entire body stiffened, his hand tightening on the edge of the door. His head tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the shift in his demeanor. The calm before the storm.

“Excuse me?” Bucky’s voice was low, deadly.

Rhys scoffed, his tone dripping with false confidence, voice low while glancing shortly at you. “Don’t play dumb. I know about the Emporium. And I know about you.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, your breath catching as Rhys’ words hung in the air like a grenade waiting to explode. Alpine let out a sharp, warning hiss, her tail flicking wildly.

“Y/N,” Bucky called over his shoulder, his voice steady but laced with coldness that made your blood run cold. “Go to my room.”

“What? Why—”

“Now.”

The finality in his tone left no room for argument, and with a wobble in your step and the slight haze of alcohol still clouding your mind, you retreated into the hallway. 

You staggered slightly, catching yourself on the wall as your eyes darted toward the only other door in sight: Bucky’s bedroom. Your curiosity—or perhaps your drunken instincts—propelled you forward. You weren’t sure why, but something about the tension in Bucky’s voice and the way he’d so urgently told you to leave made your heart pound faster.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as you approached the door, your hand reaching out hesitantly toward the doorknob. You heard a faint shuffle from behind it—too faint for you to process fully in your current state—but enough to make you pause. Your fingers hovered above the cool metal, trembling slightly.

The voices from the other room grew louder for a moment before falling eerily silent, the tension almost palpable even through the walls. Your breath hitched as you gripped the doorknob tighter, the faintest click of the mechanism echoing in the stillness of the hallway.

The door began to give under your push.

Inside, Steve, Sam, and Nat froze mid-whisper, their eyes darting toward the door as it inched open.

tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @infqnitysblog

@ayayaeyato @blackbirdwitch22 @mostlymarvelgirl @bohoooitsme @crdgn

@yiiiikesmish @jae0515 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nikey-no-likey @aami98

@almosttoopizza @wisteriaandwafers @yiiiikesmish @marvelavengerspovs1 @xunquish-blog

@ppbhquinn @ziawbarnes @scott-loki-barnes @let-it-sn0o0ow @seven0714

@lostinspace33 @clockworkballerina @bonnie-bun

[chithereader]

stir crazy / aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 2k

genre: fluff/angst if you squint

cw: omniscient pov, hotch being vulnerable

“My agent has been asking me for the manuscript but it’s just not ready yet. And I’ve still got my day job that keeps me busy enough,” It’s a quiet day at the BAU. No urgent cases or serial killers, just a few feet worth of case files. Leaning against Reid’s desk, Rossi, Emily and boy genius himself have been talking about the next big David Rossi book.

“Oh c’mon, I see you typing away in your office and writing in that little notebook of yours– which I know is for your drafts by the way,” Emily teases. Rossi shrugs it off with a soft smirk and looks to the boy genius who has been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes. 

“Nothing to say, kid?” lowering his head to catch the young man’s preoccupied eye but Reid’s sight is incredibly glued far away. 

It took Reid a good 6 seconds to realize he’s kid before he shakes himself out of the trance and answers, “Well, considering the hours he’s spent typing on his personal laptop as opposed to the office computer and adding the minutes he allots on the jet to jot down on his writing notebook– assuming he’s writing in a similar format to his previous books–  I’d say….you’re actually well into the third chapter of your manuscript.” 

Still with his eyes trained on whatever caught his attention in the first place, Reid unsurprisingly impresses Rossi again because he is indeed a little over halfway into the third chapter.

But Rossi and Emily instantly become interested with what or who Reid has been staring at for the past minute, noticing that even when going off on his boy-genius tangent, his stare had been focused somewhere else. 

Reid jumps in his seat a little as the two level their heads on either side of his to see where his gaze has been glued. He had been so focused on figuring out the worrying sight and what caused it that he hadn’t noticed how much of him wasn’t aware of his surroundings. 

To their surprise, they’re met with a seemingly everyday sight: Hotch, in the pantry, stirring his coffee. And by everyday, they mean that to any passerby they’d think this is incredibly normal. Nothing at all out of place or out of character. 

But to the trained eye- to profilers who also spend almost everyday with the man, they slowly see what Reid must have seen. 

Hotch is stirring his coffee. But he doesn’t even put sugar or creamer in his always black coffee. 

He’s doing it absentmindedly. Literally looking lost in his head. Hotch is a busy guy, a busy boss guy, with millions of things to think about, but Hotch is never absent. His movements are always purposeful, precise, and calculated. Never lacking and never excess. 

Hotch has his head tilted down and to the side. Like a perpetually confused puppy. One of the things that make Hotch Hotch is his posture. His rigid, firm posture. Back always so straight, hands always clenched, jaw always tight– Hotch is never just there, his presence alone is commanding. 

And worst of all, Hotch’s hair is neat. Too neat. Okay, Hotch’s habit of being neat -with his pressed suits and shined shoes no matter where he is- naturally extends to how he styles his hair. Over the years, he’s learned to gel it out of his face for both convenience and aesthetic. But this neat- this neat looks a little too flat and ruffled at the same time. Like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times in a matter of minutes. 

So Rossi and Emily finally understand. The two share a look of understanding, while Reid looks up at them with curiosity and a little worry. 

“Do you guys think he’s.. okay?” Reid asks quietly with a little grimace. He looks between the two, trying to figure out what they’re thinking, “I mean it has been exactly 12 minutes that he’s been stirring nothing into his coffee.” 

“12?!” If Emily had any sort of drink in her mouth, she surely would have spat it out all over Reid–for which he is silently thankful she doesn’t because as much as he adores Emily, he’s just not mentally prepared for… well that. 

Finally, there’s movement in the pantry. Unaware of his colleagues now watching his every move, Hotch wakes up from the trance he was trapped in and quickly retreats back into his office with his now-cold cup of coffee. 

Knowing that Rossi’s the only one to easily get through to Hotch, Emily and Reid turn to look at him, wordlessly nudging him to check on the poor man who spent 12 minutes stirring his painfully plain black coffee. 

Raising both his hands as he stands from where he was leaning, Rossi surrenders “Alright alright! But I am not telling you rascals what he tells me in confidence.” pointing at the doe-eyed pair. 

Rossi lets the possibilities run through his head as he walks up the stairs to Aaron’s office. Maybe Jack’s having trouble with that one kid again– what’s his name? Or maybe Jack’s having trouble with Mothers’ Day coming up. That’s never been easy. But the stirring and staring into space and the hair? What could possibly– Knock knock. 

Rossi doesn’t even wait to hear Aaron’s voice. He pushes the door open to be greeted with the sight of Aaron finally looking a little more him: writing on his desk knee-deep in case files. 

Aaron looks up for a second and continues writing reports, “What can I help you with, Dave?” Putting extra pressure on penning that last period before closing the case file and grabbing another to open. 

Dave stays quiet for a bit and takes in the sight. Looks fine to me. But his silence halts Aaron’s writing and he looks up to Dave who’s just studying him by the door. 

“You know you can sit right?” Aaron stoically jokes. 

And a joke?! Dave finally cracks and sits down to say, “Boy genius just watched you stir your coffee for 12 minutes which we all know is black. Your hair’s messy and too fixed at the same time, you were standing in the pantry just minutes ago glaring into nothing. And you were slouching with your head tilted to the side.” 

“Honestly whatever it is, it’s none of my business but you just scared two members of your team and I think this may be the seed of doubt in your leadership skills because you’re finally not a robot.” It was obvious that Dave was trying to play it cool, masking concern with humor and sarcasm. 

But Aaron is a painfully private guy. He’d think it over for days before he decides to open up or seek advice from a close friend. Only he has thought about it for days and not saying anything’s been driving him insane he genuinely feels like he could implode at any second. 

Aaron takes one big breath and through clenched teeth he grumbles out, “It’s a she.” Finally staring Dave straight in the eyes, he clarifies, “the it in whatever it is is a she.” 

Realization and more worry hits Dave at the same time which Aaron clearly sees on his face. But Rossi quickly recovers and gives Aaron a soft, comforting smile, “Well what’s so bad about your she that’s got you so shaken up?” 

In Dave’s head, he’s already preparing responses for the worst: 

She doesn’t approve of my job. Well she can suck it. This is who you are. 

Jack doesn’t like her. Aaron, the one thing I like about kids is that they give it to you straight. I think you should take that as a sign

She’s not comfortable with the age gap. She’s way older. She’s way younger. I’m scarred in more ways than one. I’m not sure I still know how to– 

Aaron could see the increasing concern in Dave’s face, “I just–” he started. 

Dave’s thoughts were cut short by Aaron’s voice, thankfully because his mind was starting to reach the point of no return. Anticipating Aaron’s explanation, he leaned forward in his seat trying to read Aaron’s expression. 

“A few months ago, I’d stay here. After a case, when I know my son’s fast asleep and Jessica’s with him- I’d stay here.” Dave kept quiet, intently listening and trying to piece together where this could possibly go. 

“I would choose to stay here and finish reports, make a dent in the never-ending pile of case files because when I’m focused on helping others, I don’t have time to think of how alone I am.”

Before Dave could try and quell this ‘alone’ sentiment, Aaron quickly follows it up “I love my son. And he’s always been more than enough. And I have the team but… you guys have people to come home to. Arms to fall into at the end of a grueling day.” 

“For the longest time, since Haley.. I haven’t allowed myself to feel. To want. And if I’ve just been honest then it’d be known, I want to be loved. All that I carry, I drop all of it at the door and then there’s just this exhaustion that hits me. And all I want is for someone to hold me.” 

Dave takes all of this in, feeling an immense amount of love and sadness for his friend who deserves nothing but happiness but hasn’t for the longest time allowed himself the one thing that can give him that. 

“I know you think that getting into a relationship makes you a bad father, splitting the only time you have left with someone else instead of your son. But the truth is Aaron, Jack’s growing up. He has his sleepovers, camps, and football now. Soon he’ll leave for parties and college, and as much as he adores you he’ll have his own family.”

“I know. And then I’ll be alone.” Aaron’s voice starts to sound rough. Like this fact’s caught in his throat and he can’t speak. Dave studies Aaron and considers all the things he knows are holding Aaron back.

“So give it a shot.” Dave insists. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just set a date, and show up.” 

Aaron looks at Dave pointedly, “You make it sound easy–” “You make it sound hard.” 

Aaron appears to recover. He smoothes a hand over his tie and straightens his back yet again. In an instant, he’s back to looking stoic and stern with brows furrowed and eyes glaring.

He’s not used to being vulnerable, even in the privacy of his own office. Feeling like an open book for others to read makes goosebumps trail up his spine- in a bad way. Dave quickly reads this and decides to lighten the mood. 

“So…. when will we meet her?” Dave asks smugly. 

“Funny.”

“I understand.. your concerns. But I don’t think you’d be so worried about it if you weren’t already serious about her. So, what’s really going on with her?” 

Aaron thought he could get away without revealing much about her. He’s uncomfortable enough talking about himself, and all the more protective he is when it comes to you. Especially as someone who wants to keep your little world away from the harshness of everything else–

He sighs. He knows Dave is relentless and as payback for his concern, he decides he has to give Dave something. 

“I don’t know. Really. I don’t– I told you one day I’m tiring myself out so I don’t have to come home and process my empty bed as empty..”

“Now I’m tiptoeing in my own kitchen so as to not disturb this crazy singing person washing my dishes while my kid wipes the plates. And I watch them for god knows how long, instead of going up to my office to attend to case files whose deadlines are a bit too close for my liking.” 

“I don’t know,” Aaron shrugs. A soft, weak smile grows on his lips at the memory of you.

Dave stands from the seat, a knowing smirk on his face, “Hmm.” Teasing Aaron as he walks to the door and grabs the handle. 

“I think you’ll be just fine, Aaron. Just fine.” 

[uhbambii]

An Evening at the Dellamorte Villa

The Dellamorte villa was beautiful, its elegance polished but understated, much like its owner. The warm glow of the fire danced across the room, the shadows playing along the stone walls and plush furniture. Lucanis Dellamorte sat on the edge of the couch, his posture straight, his dark, piercing eyes fixed on the woman beside him. His dark hair, slightly tousled, gave him an effortlessly refined appearance, as though he hadn’t given it a thought. His presence, as always, felt unshakable—calm, controlled, and ever so slightly intimidating.

Rook sat curled up at the other end of the couch, balancing a cup of coffee in her hands. A generous dollop of whipped cream topped the drink, and she took a slow sip, savoring the sweetness. It was a stark contrast to the man beside her, who held his plain, black coffee like it was just another tool to keep himself sharp.

“You drink it like a child,” Lucanis said, his voice low and edged with dry humor.

Rook looked up, blinking at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Excuse me?”

He gestured vaguely toward her cup. “The whipped cream. It’s excessive.”

She smirked at him, unbothered by his tone. “It’s delicious.”

“It’s indulgent.”

“That’s the point,” she replied, taking another long sip, the cream smudging her upper lip. She smiled at him over the rim of the mug, her sweetness contrasting with his ever-serious demeanor.

Lucanis tilted his head, his sharp gaze unwavering. “You’re impossible to argue with,” he muttered, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes.

She giggled, the sound soft and light. “I take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you do,” he said dryly, though he allowed the faintest curve of a smile to tug at his lips.

Despite his usual reserve, there was something about Rook that disarmed him, though he would never admit it aloud. Her presence was calming, warm, a welcome change from the constant weight of duty and responsibility that defined his life. She made the sharp edges of his world feel softer somehow.

As the fire crackled in the hearth, Rook leaned back into the couch, her gaze drifting to him. “You should relax more often, you know,” she said softly, her tone as warm as the glow of the room.

Lucanis raised an eyebrow. “This is me relaxing.”

She laughed again, and he couldn’t help but notice how her eyes sparkled when she did. “I think you can do better than that.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he replied, deadpan, though there was a teasing undertone to his words.

“You just need more practice,” she said, her voice gentle but playful.

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his piercing gaze softening slightly. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire. She looked utterly at ease, and it struck him how much he wanted to protect moments like this—her laughter, her light, her unwavering belief in him.

“You’ve got something,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

He gestured to her mouth. “Whipped cream. On your lip.”

“Oh,” she said, her hand moving to wipe it away.

“Wait,” he said, his voice stopping her mid-motion. He set his cup down on the table and leaned forward, the intensity in his dark eyes making her breath hitch. “Let me.”

Her cheeks flushed as he closed the space between them. His movements were deliberate, his hand brushing her wrist as he gently lowered it. There was a moment of stillness, his gaze locked on hers, and then his lips met hers in a kiss so soft and certain that it stole the air from her lungs.

The sweetness of the whipped cream melted away as he lingered, his kiss deepening ever so slightly before he finally pulled back. He stayed close, his face mere inches from hers, his sharp features softened by an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Better,” he said, his voice low and filled with quiet satisfaction.

Rook’s cheeks were blazing, and she stared at him, her wide eyes making her look both stunned and endearing. “Lucanis,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” he asked, his smirk returning, though this time it was softer, almost tender.

“That was…” She struggled for words, her heart still racing.

“A necessary correction,” he said, though the playful edge in his tone betrayed him.

She let out a breathless laugh, her embarrassment giving way to warmth. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, his arm moving to rest along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder, “you’re still here.”

She sighed, leaning into his touch. “I am,” she admitted, her voice soft.

He pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her with a protectiveness that felt as natural as it was rare. For a man who was so often stoic and distant, this moment of closeness was a revelation.

“You shouldn’t make a habit of this,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost teasing. “I’m not known for being good company.”

“I think you’re better company than you think,” she replied, her tone light but sincere.

His fingers brushed her hair, the touch slow and deliberate. “Ah, sei una testarda, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her eyes soft. “And you like that about me.”

His lips twitched into a small, rare smile. “I’ll admit… it has its appeal.”

“You know,” she murmured, her voice sleepy but filled with affection, “you’re a lot softer than you pretend to be.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Soft? Cara mia, that is not a word anyone has ever used to describe me.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “Well, maybe they just don’t know you like I do.”

Her words caught him off guard, and for a moment, he simply looked at her, the firelight reflecting in her eyes. There was a quiet sincerity in her expression that made something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he admitted softly, his voice quieter than usual, almost vulnerable.

Rook smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of his dark hair from his face. “Then I guess I’m lucky.”

Lucanis exhaled a quiet laugh, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have a way of making me believe that, even if it’s entirely unearned.”

“Who says it’s unearned?” she countered, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re more than just what you let people see, Lucanis. I wish you could see it too.”

For a long moment, he was silent, his dark eyes searching hers as though trying to find the words he wanted to say. Finally, he cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, though his tone was filled with warmth.

She laughed softly, her smile lighting up the room. “And you’re just realizing that now?”

“No,” he admitted, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “But I think I’m finally starting to understand how much I don’t mind.”

Rook’s heart swelled, and she melted into his kiss, her hands curling gently into the fabric of his shirt. When they finally broke apart, she rested her head against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re stuck with me now,” she teased lightly, her voice muffled against him.

“Stuck,” he repeated, his voice full of quiet amusement. “If this is being stuck, cara mia, I’m not sure I ever want to be free.”

Her smile widened, and she tightened her arms around him as a content sigh escaped her. The fire crackled softly in the background, and Lucanis pressed another kiss to her hair, holding her as though the world outside no longer mattered.

And as the night stretched on, the silence between them was filled with something deeper than words—an unspoken promise of a future neither of them could have imagined before finding each other.

————————————————————————

Eat up Lucanis lovers 🤍

I haven’t romanced him yet! Just Taash and Davrin!

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.5 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, morning after regrets, flashbacks(2x) , mentions of cheating, previous relationship trauma, college flashback, stupid ex boyfriend, bothering yoongi (cause he deserves to be bothered), vic laughs in your face, yeah more confusing feelings ❥word-count: 8.8k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Four Years Ago - Just before Melanie and Namjoon met. 

“Holy shit.” You set down your drink on the table. Your eyes landing on Jungkook, who just happened to enter the same bar you and your friends decided to have a night out at. 

Who you haven’t seen in a year.

It was just a casual outing and you had a rough shift so a few drinks were going to hit the spot for you right now. You and Melanie invited Ash to join you to hang out. She was a new friend to the both of you and you really wanted to get to know her better. No better way than to have a few drinks and sit and talk.

Ash, glanced in the direction you were looking. “What is it?” 

You shake your head and take another sip of your drink, tracking Jungkook across the bar as he seemed to greet some guys he seemed to know. 

“Oh it’s nothing. Just some guy I knew in college.” You try to brush it off, tracing the rim of your drink. The past frustrations are bubbling up.

“Which one?” Melanie leaned close, as you pointing him out subtly trying not to pull focus to your little group. “Oh wow. He’s cute, did you guys date or something?” 

You stifle a laugh, “No, I fucking hate that guy.” 

“What happened?” Ash tilted her head glancing over to Jungkook. Her curiosity peaked. 

“Oh it’s a long story.” You wave your hand trying to breeze past to another subject. 

“Oh come on spill.” Melanie bumped her shoulder into yours, encouraging you to open up. You and Melanie had only known each other a few months and although you had gotten close pretty quickly. This Jungkook thing was old news and not something you even had to worry about anymore.

“He’s just an ass. We got into a huge fight and I said some things, he said some things and we can’t stand each other. This is the first time I’ve seen him since.” You try to keep the details as vague as possible.

“Damn that sucks.” Melanie nodded, “It wasn’t’ like a secret love affair or something scandalous like that?” She teased and your eyes shot open in shock.

“Yeah if I ever sleep with that guy, someone needs to get me a brain scan because something is seriously wrong with me.” You laughed giving a nonchalant wave of your hand, as if brushing off the question.

Ash pursed her lips, “I mean… He’s cute so maybe you would be totally sane.” Ash

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

“Awe crap.” Jungkook ran a hand over his face as he sat up in his bed. The whole night comes back in a quick flash. 

It was real though… the two of you had slept together… again.

You sat in a frustrated but dumbfounded daze next to him. Silent, staring at the ground. Recounting every single step from the night before. How Jungkook found you buried in the sea of people. Helped you get to the bathroom, one second you were fighting and then the next… 

You both stayed silent like this for just a moment before you took the pillow behind you swinging it around to hit Jungkook. “You idiot.” 

Jungkook blocked himself from getting hit in just enough time. “What?” 

You swung the pillow again, hitting his arms with a thud. “Stupid dumb idiot.” You really weren’t sure if you were saying this to him or to yourself now. Felt good to take the frustration out on him with the pillow. 

“You think I planned this!” Jungkook spat back with you in annoyance, “I’m clearly just as shocked as you are.” You swung the pillow one more time to hit him but this time Jungkook grabs it. “Stop!” 

You get up from the bed with an exaggerated groan, mumbling some things under your breath. You walked and grabbed your pants pulling them back up your legs with some frustration and force. “Shut up. Make me. What the hell was that?” 

As you quickly dressed, your phone slipped out of your pocket and clattered to the floor. You snatched it up, wincing as the screen lit up: almost 9 AM. You didn’t have any pressing plans today, but staying here was the last thing you wanted.

Jungkook got up from his bed. Jungkook, still standing, watched you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, and what about you? Kiss me, Jungkook.” He pitched his voice in a high, mocking imitation of you.

You shot him an incredulous look, pointing at him angrily. “I do not sound like that.” You storm past him, shoving him, grabbing your bra. “What about you? Let’s get out of here and I prefer a bed.” You pitched your voice as well to mock him back. 

“Well I do.” He nods his head to the side but then shakes his head, “Not the point. You wanted it just as bad as I did.” 

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping. “Fine, whatever. Maybe I did. But I swear you placed some demonic spell on me.”

“I should be the one checking myself for hex’s if anything!”  Jungkook says, checking out his arms and chest dramatically. 

You stormed out of the room, your eyes now adjusting to the daylight as you glanced at his apartment. It looked completely different now. His place was so nice and clean. Well put together and he actually had things well decorated. How annoying. Jungkook threw on a pair of sweatpants and followed you down the hallway, his tone turning serious.

You bent down to put on your shoes, frustration bubbling up as you fumbled with the laces. “I don’t do hookups. I’m too busy. What a load of crap!”

Jungkook leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “Hey, that’s true! Between the trial I’ve got coming up and all the other crap in my life, I’m genuinely surprised.”

You narrowed your eyes, not slowing down as you tried to shove your other shoe onto your foot. “Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that.”

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Says the one who swore after last time this would never happen again.” He looked at you with a smirk, his gaze unwavering. “I remember that pretty clearly. You always keep your word, so what happened?”

You froze mid-motion, turning to face him with a frustrated, exasperated sigh. “I had a lot to drink, my judgement was skewed. Okay?”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, his voice teasing but with an edge of something more. “So did I. Still doesn’t explain why we’re here, does it?”

You paused, a bitter laugh escaping you as you patted your pockets, checking for your keys. “I don’t even know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh at how big of an idiot I am, or cry about ending up in bed with you again.”

You yanked the front door open, spinning on your heel just before it slammed shut, giving him a sarcastic middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, calling after you. “Fuck off!”

The door slammed shut behind you, and you darted down the hallway, the elevator feeling like the only escape. You needed to get out of there, fast. You needed to breathe. To feel something that wasn’t this—whatever this was.

The moment you stepped into the elevator, your mind flooded with flashes from the night before. The elevator doors shut, but in your mind, it felt like you were still there with him, every second replaying itself in vivid detail. You remembered the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, the way your body betrayed you. How you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were fighting and then you were in it.

What the hell was that? You didn’t have an answer, only questions swirling in your head.

And why… did it feel so good?

You couldn’t shake the image of his face, between your legs, from your mind for the rest of the day. It lingered with you, haunting every moment. You forced yourself into a cold shower just so you could force yourself to not think about anything other than keeping yourself warm. You tried to stay busy, distracting yourself from the truth that kept creeping back. That whatever skills Jungkook had with his tongue had left its mark on you, and you wouldn’t easily forget it.

You weren’t the only one haunted. 

As good as Jungkook was at pushing things from his mind, this was not something he could easily do this time. He couldn’t get the moments in the bathroom out of his mind, how just for one moment you both just surrendered and you actually laughed at him. Felt like you could be friends almost. You may have looked like friends to anyone else… very complicated friends. 

It’s not like there wasn’t a time when you two couldn’t have been friends. 

In fact there was a time when you were friends, before it all went south. 

Jungkook had been thinking about that time more often lately, about how you two bridged the gap before. Which was really funny to think about now, considering this week. That there ever was a time where you two really got along, and got along well. 

Funny enough it was a pretty similar instance to every time you encountered each other this last week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

You decided a break was long overdue. Between the mountain of homework and David, your ex, relentless texting you, your mind felt like it was on the verge of imploding. A quick walk to the convenience store on the edge of campus seemed like the perfect way to clear your head, just enough to get back to work without screaming into your pillow.

David has been spending weeks trying to get ahold of you. Trying to explain himself again and make you look like an idiot again because he’s convinced you twice to get back together with him, why not one more time? 

The store’s door jingled as you pushed it open, a wave of cool air brushing past you. The cashier barely glanced up from his phone as you headed straight for the energy drinks. Your eyes scanned the rows until you grabbed two cans—one for tonight and one for the impending hell of tomorrow.

You turned, heading to the snacks, but as soon as you rounded the corner of the aisle, you collided with someone.

“Shit—” you muttered, barely managing to keep hold of your drinks.

“Maybe look where you’re going,” came the familiar, clipped voice. Of course coming from Jungkook.

You blinked at him, your stomach twisting with instant irritation. “Oh.”

Jungkook just brushed past you. You had spent several weeks of your project meeting together to work but you had been icing him out. He had tried to smooth things over, even had a friend come and try to decipher what issue you had with him was. You really had nothing to say to your ex’s friends after what happened. Seems Jungkook has finally gotten the hint you didn’t want to be friends and just wanted to get this project over with.

You rolled your eyes, clutching the cans tighter as you moved to the shelf beside him, pretending he wasn’t there. His presence, of course, was hard to ignore, especially when he turned his head to glance at your selection.

Jungkook had become pretty fed up with your cold shoulder. He had tried being nice but your weeks of angry muttering and silence really got under his skin. When he had no idea what he had even done wrong, and with how his week had been going he didn’t really have any patience left for you. He grabbed what he liked but the both of you had ended up in the same aisle again. 

You both took a small glance at what the other had collected. 

“Really? Energy drinks and chips? Healthy.” He remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Your face twisted in some confusion at his comment,“Really? Beer and a box of instant noodles? Classy,” you shot back without missing a beat, nodding at his haul.

“Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on my diet.” He said, deadpan, before turning his attention to the shelf again.

“I just have eyes.” You grabbed a pack of granola bars and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

Jungkook had noticed your recent choice of beverage from your last few meet ups for the project. Always the same and always two. “You know, those won’t magically help you stay awake. Might want to try water—or sleep.”

“Wow. Riveting advice, Jungkook,” you said over your shoulder. “Maybe next time, write a self-help book. Call it How to Be Annoying in Five Easy Steps.”

His lip curled into a half-smirk. “And you’d call yours How to Be Petty Without Even Trying.”

“Catchy,” you shot back. “I’ll let you write the foreword.”

“Pass. I’d rather not waste my time.”

“Then stop talking to me,” you snapped, giving him a pointed glare before brushing past him.

Jungkook leaves you alone, doesn’t even entertain you anymore. That was fine though, you needed to get back to your homework. You checkout with your stuff and get out of there pretty quickly. Pushing the door open, you start home but are immediately greeted with satan in the flesh. 

“Oh god damn it, I cannot catch a break.” A puff of air leaves your lungs, exhaustion setting in. “How did you even know where I was David?”

“Baby I know everything about you. You always come here on your study days. Which is always Thursdays. Around this time.” He says it so matter of fact, because he does know you too well. It made your skin crawl. 

“I’m not your baby.” You try to walk past him but he steps in front of you. “Stop texting,  stop calling, and don’t ever show up somewhere I frequent again. It’s creepy.”

“Please just hear me out.” He starts but you put a hand up to him and push him away.

“No David, because you will make the same promises that you have made me over and over again. Once again making me look stupid. You give me the same stupid speech every time that I ‘am the one’, and it was a ‘mistake’, and that it was ‘just a one time thing’, and that ‘I’m so special to you’, blah blah blah.” You rub the side of your head with your free hand that doesn’t have your bag. 

“I was wrong, every single time I was wrong. I’m here because I know you, I know that in that bag you have two energy drinks because you are going to drink one tonight and you are going to keep one for another day!” He keeps blocking your way, you keep trying to step around him but he’s not going to let you go until he gets his whole speech out. 

“So what? You know one thing about me? Anyone who spends any amount of time around me knows that!” 

“That’s not all. I know you. I know how you look when you are frustrated about something and you scrunch up your nose.” He took a step forward but you maintain the same distance between the both of you. “I know that you say you are a fan of action movies but you much prefer something funny or thought provoking.”

“Please stop.”

“I’m not here to give you the same speech again. I want you. We will graduate and I want the life we talked about forever ago. I’m not making the same promises like before. I will do anything to prove to you I am the most serious I have ever been.” David begged, he was making that same face he made very single time. One that made you believe it but you weren’t falling for it anymore, you were just pissed off now.

Right at that moment you heard the store door close behind you. Great, just great. Now Jungkook gets to experience this embarrassing moment for you. Since he’s one of David’s closest friends, probably help him. Say something like ‘David is so awesome and amazing’. You turn to look at Jungkook, who seemed to be confused about what was transpiring in front of him. David has stopped talking at this point and is also looking over atJungkook. 

Jungkook observing the both of you, he could tell something is off. 

“Hey man.” David calls over to him, voice suddenly diffused and cheerful, and he waves a little. “Haven’t seen you around, how’s it going?”

“Uhh,” Jungkook looked at his plan of escape and seemed to abandon it but didn’t come closer to the two of you. “Good man, Just busy.” 

You were trapped. You wouldn’t be able to get out of this, but still the look you gave to Jungkook suggested that you needed help getting out of this situation. You could only hope he sees it, and sees that even if you have been treating him like crap he may be the only person to get David to back off. 

“You should come hang out, everyone misses you. ” David spoke up again, trying to fill the weighing silence between the three of you.

“I’m okay, actually.” Jungkook says, his voice is monotone and unwavering. Almost mad? He took a couple steps closer to the two of you. Jungkook had caught on to your look for help. “Everything okay here?”

He could tell you were extremely uncomfortable, and he knew if David had an idea he wasn’t going to let it go. For whatever reason, that was you right now.

“Yeah, we are just talking really quick.” David spoke in place of you, before you could get a word out. 

David placed a hand on your shoulder and you immediately recoiled away. Jungkook right at that moment got an idea. He had no idea if it would work or if you even really wanted his help. He decided it was worth a shot though. 

“You ready to go?” He spoke directly to you.

It surprised you and you stared at him for a moment with a confused look, one David was unable to see from standing behind you.

“Uhh…” Your eyebrows screw together. 

“You guys know each other?” David stepped into the space that was between you and Jungkook. 

“Not really.” You say, which was the truth. 

“We are working on something together.” Jungkook fills in the blank, almost too quickly after you. He was looking directly at David, and was standing taller now. 

“Well, can we just have a minute?” David asks. His demeanor changed in response to the change in Jungkook’s tone and stance. Defensive. 

Jealous?

“No we need to go.” Jungkook comes over to you and takes the bag out of your hand, adding it to the arm he already had his on. You almost on instinct protest him but hold yourself back. Whatever Jungkook was doing was working and you just might be able to get out of here. Hurricane David would pass.

“Y/N I just need a minute.” David looked a little flustered by the intrusion. 

“No. We are done.” You speak abruptly and move closer to Jungkook’s direction. 

“Seriously?” David looks at you, he was definitely frustrated, and that filled you with sense of relief. 

“Yeah. Seriously.” You say.

“Head home David.” Jungkook steps backwards in the direction towards campus. “I think it’s time we left as well.”

“Fine, go then.” David snorts, he takes a quick step over to Jungkook, leaning into his ear and then says something else inaudible to you. Which, after a moment, results in Jungkook pushing David harshly away from him. 

“Hey let’s go.” You grab onto Jungkook’s arm and you head towards the direction of the dorms. Quickly. David doesn’t get another word in, you and Jungkook kept the same pace and moved in quick silence. 

“What a fucking douche.” Jungkook finally says once you guys are far enough away. 

“I thought you were friends?” You ask, now confused. Wasn’t he like Jungkook’s best friend? That’s how David always described him.

“Not anymore.” He looks at you, “I hope he didn’t bug you too much.” 

“Oh, he will. He’s probably going to text me any minute.” You dread it in fact. He was annoyingly persistent in the times you guys were… off.

“How do you know him?” 

You let out a sigh. That was a loaded question indeed.

“It’s a very long and taxing story.” 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe after a drink or five.” You shake your head, joking in your tone. 

Jungkook then ruffles around into his bag. Pulling out a can of a drink that was juice and alcohol mixed together. A mango flavor of some kind. You glance at it and then back up to Jungkook.

“I’ve got time.” 

Jungkook walked you back to your dorm. Usually you wouldn’t invite guys up but your roommate was out for the evening and you weren’t too worried about it right now. You both sat on the ground in your room. Opening up your drinks and sitting, and you begin to explain the long complicated history between you and David. How he cheated once, begged you to come back, cheated again, begged you to come back again, and then shocker… cheated again. Then made you out to be the insane one to everyone you knew. David had this uncanny way of just getting into your head and you were not letting it happen this time.

Jungkook just sat silently and listened. He didn’t try to interject or try to defend David in any way. Just let you get it all out. Which just only piqued your curiosity on their relationship even more. Were they not close like you had been told? Did something happen? 

“And so that’s how he ended up here. Seeking me out again.” You take a sip of your second drink for the night.”

“What the fuck is wrong with him.” Jungkook shook his head and took a sip of his drink. 

“And every time, he made me look just more and more like an idiot. For believing that each time he wants me and wants to be really committed. I kept believing it could happen, but every single time the rug is pulled out from under me and everyone is laughing at me for not seeing that he was going to do it again.” You sigh, you sank down onto the floor further. Feeling like it was dragging you down into it.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think he is an asshole.” Jungkook discards his can into the plastic bag that you two had used for garbage. 

“I was nervous when you came out of the store tonight. I thought you guys were still friends.” 

“No, absolutely not. He pulled some crap a couple of months ago and I hope I never see him again. Clearly he thought we were still friends.” Jungkook picked at his fingernails while talking. 

“He calls you his best friend, you know.” You look to see his reaction and Jungkook snorts. 

“That’s rich.” He tilts his head. “He’s certainly not mine. We were pretty close though.” 

“Not close enough to meet me I guess. His on and off girlfriend.” 

Jungkook paused for a second, clearly trying to carefully choose his next words. “He never mentioned you.” 

You sat up, you eyes narrowing for a second. “What?”

Jungkook chewed on his lip for a moment. “He never really mentioned he had a girlfriend. Not around his friends at least. I had no idea he ever had a serious relationship.” 

You blink one and twice for a moment, taking in his words. You’ve met some of David’s other friends, but he never mentioned you? Not even as a fling? You just laugh because it all makes more sense now. It’s a bitter laugh. 

“Great.” You rub your hands over your face, “That just makes me look even dumber when I would go around being like heres a picture of my boyfriend. Maybe I was just a dirty little secret all along.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook didn’t know how to respond. The whole thing just sucked. 

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you with all of this. You didn’t even know anything. You really didn’t know what he was doing. Any of it.” 

“Wait, all this freezing out and bitterness towards me for weeks had to do with David?” Jungkook scrunched his face at you. 

“Yeah, you were his best friend. As far as I knew at least. I assumed that you had to know about all the stuff he was doing to me and the cheating… I just labeled you an asshole like him.” You fidgeted in your seat a little uncomfortable, and you didn’t look up to him. “It was easier to hate you than to hear you out I guess.”

“Huh.” All the pieces were suddenly falling into place now. for Jungkook. 

“David and I were also so on and off. Makes sense why we never met–”

“And I didn’t remember you when class started.” Jungkook nodded, his jaw open in realization. “Because there was nothing to remember.” Every interaction between the two of you suddenly made so much sense now.

“Yeah so I’m sorry for all the bitterness and undeserving frustration. I really thought you knew and were playing dumb.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to hide yourself away. 

“Trust me, if I had known any of that, I probably would have kicked the crap out of him.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I swear I never knew he was seeing someone. Anytime he mentioned… anyone… he would just say oh this ‘girl I slept with’ or ‘this chick I was with’.” 

It was like a new kick in the chest hearing this new piece of information from Jungkook. David lied to everyone, it wasn’t just you. Some weird comfort in the fact that no one really knows him, not even people he hangs out with all the time. 

“I know now that was all bullshit, I hope you know.” He tries to reassure you. 

“Thanks.” You give him a half smile. “God, now I really feel like an asshole.” 

“Don’t, you didn’t know. None of us knew.” He waves you off, “Water under the bridge now.”

You sigh, “I hope so… Maybe we can start over. Now that you already know I’m kind of an asshole maybe we could actually be friends.” You sip on your drink. 

“Yeah… okay.” Jungkook nods with a small grin at the corner of his mouth. “That would really piss David off.” 

You give him a confused look, “Why would that piss him off?” 

Jungkook sits up crossing his arms, “He has a bit of a complex and I would bet if we were hanging out. His head just might explode.” 

“Oh I would pay to see that.” You laugh under your breath. “Plus being friends will probably make this project a whole lot easier.”

“Don’t speak too soon, we are starting the hardest part this week.” Jungkook groaned a little. 

“Don’t remind me,” You glanced over to you piled homework at the end of your bed, “Speaking of, I should get back to my stuff now. This was nice though, actually… talking.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Jungkook stood as well, he patted his pants checking he had everything he needed. 

You shuffled around in your bag from the convenience store and pulled out a bag of chips and handed them to Jungkook. 

“For helping me, it’s not much but it’s a start.” 

“Anytime. Text me if you need help with the project.” Jungkook accepted your offer. It was a nice first step to actually being friends. Plus your new found bond of hating the same guy also helps. 

With that Jungkook left. You got yourself up off the floor and back onto your bed. Picking up your phone to actually check what time it was but seeing you had missed a handful of texts. Not surprising at all. 

David: come back.

David: pls

David: you expect me to believe you aren’t fucking that guy?

David: hope you have fun.

David: i bet he won’t even be able to get it up for you. 

David: pls answer me.

David: can’t believe you would do this

Wow. Jungkook was right about that complex thing. Except you didn’t need him bothering you anymore. So you finally got up the courage to block his number. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Jungkook had been back at work for a few days, but something was off. He moved through tasks like a machine—efficient, precise, but utterly lifeless. To most people, it wouldn’t seem like anything was wrong. His work was spotless, his demeanor polite, but to those who really knew him, it was clear something wasn’t right.

Jimin, for one, had definitely noticed. Jungkook was usually social, always cracking jokes or giving over-detailed play-by-plays of his workout routines. This week, though? Radio silence. It was like his body was here, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Jimin had informed Taehyung of the weird change in Jungkook’s behavior and Taehyung encouraged Jimin to put some pressure on.

Curious—and more than a little nosy—Jimin sauntered over to Jungkook’s desk, a file in hand. Jungkook was hunched over his computer, eyes glued to the screen, typing furiously.

“Hey, I need the paperwork for the Johnson case,” Jimin said, leaning against the edge of the desk.

“Uh-huh. I’ll get that right away,” Jungkook replied without looking up, his tone flat and mechanical.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. Yep, Jungkook wasn’t listening.

“Oh, and you’re in charge of picking up two-thousand cupcakes for the office party in two hours,” Jimin added casually, watching for a reaction.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, still typing.

Jimin smirked, crossing his arms. “Cool. While you’re at it, I’ll invite Y/N to the office. Maybe she can snap you out of whatever funk this is.”

The reaction was immediate. Jungkook froze, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, his foot—previously tapping incessantly—stopping mid-bounce. Slowly, he turned to Jimin, his wide-eyed expression betraying a mix of panic and guilt.

“Y/N is coming here?” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, trying to recover. “Why would you do that? Wh—Why would you invite Y/N here?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the overreaction. “Relax, I was joking. She’s not coming.”

“Oh,” Jungkook muttered, turning back to his computer a little too quickly. “Right. Joking. Cool.”

Jimin didn’t let it go. He leaned in closer, scrutinizing Jungkook like he was a puzzle to solve. “Why the sudden jumpiness at the mention of Y/N? You were so calm and collected about them last week.”

“I’m not jumpy,” Jungkook said immediately, his tone defensive. “I just… thought it was weird. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Jimin wasn’t buying it. He knew Jungkook too well. “Okay, spill. What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all week—more robotic than usual. Did something happen?”

“No,” Jungkook said, a little too quickly.

Jimin crossed his arms. “Lying isn’t your strong suit, Jungkook.”

“I’m not lying,” Jungkook insisted, avoiding eye contact.

Jimin smirked knowingly. “Uh-huh. Because you have been walking around here like you’ve seen a ghost or something the last few days.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. Haven’t slept super well. Can we not do this right now?”

“Fine,” Jimin said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But whatever’s eating you, you should probably deal with it before the trial tomorrow. Can’t have our golden boy flubbing his arguments because his brain’s stuck on something else.”

Jungkook glared at him but didn’t respond, turning back to his computer.

As Jimin walked away, he couldn’t help but grin. Something had definitely happened, and now he just had to figure out what.

Jungkook sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and no amount of work could drown them out. This whole situation with you had him rattled in a way he couldn’t explain.

Normally, this would’ve been easy to brush off. It wasn’t guilt because there was nothing to feel guilty about. And it wasn’t shame either—no one knew what had happened between you two, and even if they did, he wasn’t the type to care about whispers.

So why couldn’t he shake this feeling? He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. He could only imagine a huge reason is this is really the only time he has slept with someone outside of being in a relationship with them. It was strange for sure, especially because it’s not just that it’s someone random…

It was you.

Jungkook can only assume he feels so out of sorts because of those two factors. He also has no intention of getting into a relationship with you. So you were right, although he would never admit it to you, this should never happen again. It was completely throwing Jungkook off, and he can conclude Taehyung’s stupid theory is wrong. Plus it was not helping your relationship, you two were still acting exactly the same as before… plus sex. 

“What are you even doing?” Jungkook muttered as he leaned back in his desk chair. 

His phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration breaking through the noise in his head. He glanced at the screen, his shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw Namjoon’s name.

Namjooooooon: Hey mel and I are planning a get everyone together Saturday. You in?

Namjooooooon: ps y/n will probably be there. Melanie misses them too much to not invite them… 

Jungkook paused thinking if it would be a good idea. You two hadn’t parted exactly well but not as explosively as other times. He could keep himself in check for sure. He just wasn’t too sure if all this time he was sending around you was withering him away or not. 

Jk: I’ll be there.

With that he placed his phone back on the table, forcing himself to dive back into his work. He had a long day and an even longer few weeks ahead of him and he needed to stay focussed. He needed to put a pin in whatever this feeling is and deal with it maybe another time. 

On the other hand, you had done a great job at not having any feelings at all.

You had managed to push everything from the weekend out of your mind—or at least, you told yourself you had. You threw yourself into work with the kind of laser focus that made your coworkers pause. It was probably the most productive you’d been in weeks. Charts updated. Paperwork completed. Patients checked. You almost didn’t feel like yourself, but that was the point, wasn’t it?

Unfortunately, in your single-minded determination to stay busy, you’d also been unintentionally dodging Vic. She’d tried to grab you a few times, but somehow, you always managed to slip away with the excuse of an urgent task. You told yourself it was for the best. If anyone was going to see the guilt of the weekend written all over your face, it was her.

Still, as well as you were doing at shoving your questionable life choices into a mental box labeled “Ignore Forever”, your thoughts betrayed you sometimes. The absurdity of it all would creep in at random moments. Like now, as you absentmindedly flipped through patient charts at the nurses’ station. You couldn’t help but think about a time when the idea of even entertaining the thought of Jungkook would’ve sent you to the ER, convinced you were having a mental breakdown.

Maybe you really did need professional help.

As if on cue, Yoongi plopped down at the station, clearly in no mood for nonsense as he typed furiously at the computer. Perfect. A distraction. You slid your chair closer, the sound of the wheels catching his attention.

“Yoongi,” you whined, leaning dramatically into his personal space.

He didn’t even look at you, just sighed as though bracing for whatever chaos you were about to bring. “What can I do for you Y/N?”

“What are all the symptoms of a brain tumor?” you asked, propping your chin on your hands.

Yoongi froze for half a second, then slowly turned his head to look at you. “Why? Do you think one of the patients is exhibiting some strange behavior?” His voice was flat, but the shift in his tone betrayed his concern.

“Nope,” you said breezily. “I’m asking for me.”

One eyebrow shot up, but he still didn’t miss a beat on his keyboard. “Well, I’m pretty sure you don’t have a brain tumor.” He finally finished typing and swiveled his chair to face you fully. “But just to be safe, you can always page one of the neuro dude bros. That’s their thing, not mine.” 

Yoongi knew that most of the nurses, including yourself, had a major distaste for the neuro residents. The guys in particular were acting like it was a frat. It was his way of teasing.

“Ugh, I hate all the neuro residents,” you groaned, flopping back in your chair. “You, however, are conveniently here and a very qualified doctor.”

He smiled faintly, clearly unimpressed. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

You gasped, clutching your chest in mock betrayal. “Come on, one little head CT. I’ll even write you a glowing review on RateMDs.”

“Sure,” he deadpanned, standing and ruffling your hair as he moved to leave. “Let’s just order an expensive, unnecessary scan for fun. I’m sure Dr. Kim will love that.”

You trotted after him as he headed for the elevator. “Hear me out. What if I do have a brain tumor? We could be solving a medical mystery together. Dr. Kim would forgive us in a heartbeat!”

He snorted as the elevator doors opened. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“This isn’t over!” You called as the doors closed on his smirk. Defeated, you trudged back to the nurses’ station and sank into your chair, picking up where you left off with your paperwork. You were so close to the finish line, so close to clocking out, when Vic’s voice cut through the hum of the station like a scalpel.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Slowly, you turned in your chair to face her. Vic was leaning casually against the half-wall of the nurses’ station, arms crossed, her expression far too knowing for your comfort.

“What? No!” you said quickly, too quickly. “I’ve just been… busy.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she pushed off the wall and grabbed the chair next to you, plopping down with an audible sigh. “You’ve been a blur all week,” she said, propping her chin on her hand. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’re ducking behind walls or conveniently getting pulled into a room. I haven’t even had a chance to properly harass you.”

“Well, you’ve got me now.” You said with a nervous laugh that sounded more like a squeak.

Vic tilted her head, studying you with the precision of a predator sizing up its prey. “I do. So, why do you look like you’ve committed a crime?”

“No crime. Same old me. Nothing new.” You shake your head maybe a little too vigorously for convincing, but Vic decides its been a long day so maybe you were just being weird. 

Vic stared at you for a beat longer, clearly unconvinced. But to your relief, she shrugged it off, picking up a tablet and tapping her stylus against the screen. “Alright, fine. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you away or something. I desperately need you to stay up here as long ass they’ll let me have you, after all”

You exhaled slowly, grateful she wasn’t pressing further—for now.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the nurses’ station filling the air: keyboard clicks, faint beeps from patient monitors, and the occasional chatter in the background. Except your mind was far from settled. The thing was, you couldn’t talk about this situation with Ash or Melanie. Ash had never kept a secret in her life, and Melanie? She’d tell Namjoon in a heartbeat. And once Namjoon knew, it’d be over for you.

Vic was your best bet. Sure, she’d laugh at you, but you could handle that. You’d endured worse. And keeping it bottled up was slowly driving you insane.

Finally, you rolled your chair back and turned toward her. She was immersed in her tablet, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Okay, there’s one thing,” you said hesitantly, gripping onto the edge of your seat harder than you had realized.

Vic’s head popped up, her brows arching. “What’s up?”

You hesitated, twisting your fingers together nervously. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Promise.”

She rolled her eyes, setting the tablet on her lap. “Who am I going to tell? Mr. Jones in 342? He’s not exactly a vault of secrets.”

“He’s a blabbermouth,” you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from her. Mr. Jones was in a coma. He wasn’t on this floor but everyone knew about him since he had been here a few years. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Okay. So, uh… it happened again.”

Vic’s brow furrowed in confusion, her head tilting slightly. “What happened again?”

“Me and…” You lowered your voice to a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. “You know who.”

Vic stared at you, blinking once. Then twice. You could see the gears turning as she connected the dots. And then her jaw dropped. “You what? Say it again, because I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating.”

“Jungkook and I…” You swallowed hard. “…again.”

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. And then she erupted into laughter—loud, unabashed laughter that had several people glancing your way.

Vic tried to stifle her laughter, but it bubbled out anyway, her shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, but this is gold. What happened to ‘it didn’t fix anything, and you still hate him’? Is he just that good?” she teased, her grin positively wicked.

“Vic!” you whined, swatting at her arm, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your embarrassment.

“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her hands in surrender, though the smirk on her face didn’t budge. “But seriously, what are you going to do now?”

You let out a long, drawn-out sigh, slumping back into your chair like the weight of the world was pressing down on you. “Avoid him. Forever, if I can manage it.”

Vic tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, because that worked so well the first time.” She shook her head, laughing softly as she turned back to her tablet. “You’re a mess. But I love you for it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms defensively. “I am not a mess. I’d like to think I’m actually very well composed.”

Vic snorted, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “Right, right. Say that again when you’re not—”

“Victoria.” You interrupted sharply, cutting her off with a pointed look.

“Damn, alright. No need to use my full name like I’m in trouble. Anyway... how did it happen?” Her teasing tone softened slightly as she leaned forward, genuinely curious now. “Walk me through it. Start to... unfortunate finish.”

You groaned again, rubbing your temples. “Do we have to?”

“Oh, absolutely. This is the best thing that’s happened all week.” She said, propping her chin on her hand as if settling in for storytime.

With another sigh, you gave in, recounting the night in as much detail as you could bear—the tizzy outside, then the bathroom and then how you two made it to the unthinkable end. Your shift had ended in the time it took you to explain everything and Vic had followed you to the locker room while you got your stuff. 

Unthinkable maybe a few months ago. 

“I’m jealous. I wish I had something this entertaining happening in my life. The most interesting gossip I have is about Dr. Kim’s surgery this morning.” She leaned against a locker next to you as you had gotten your stuff. 

“Be glad because it’s a pain in reality.” You sigh, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Now I need to go home and wash this extremely long day off of me.” 

“Well don’t stumble into Jungkook's bed on your way there.” 

Just before you leave the locker room, You turn back to her. “I hate you.” 

“Love you too baby. Get home safe.” She waves for you to get out of here. Escape while you still could. 

You exhaled deeply as you exited the locker room, the weight of the day pulling at your shoulders. Every muscle in your body ached, and the thought of a hot shower and your bed felt like a distant dream. As you reached the elevator, you spotted Ji-eun shuffling slowly down the hallway, her IV bag trailing behind her like a stubborn shadow.

“Goodnight, Ji-eun,” you called out, giving her a small wave as you pressed the elevator button.

“Leaving so early?” she teased, her voice light but tired as she made her way over to you. You could tell from her slower steps and the way she leaned slightly to one side that today hadn’t been a good day for her.

“Short shift today,” you replied with a warm smile, masking your concern. “You should be off that leg if it’s bothering you.”

“Never,” she quipped, standing up straighter and puffing out her chest in defiance. “Can’t you see? I’ve got all the energy in the world!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “All right. Come on, let me walk you back to your room.”

Ji-eun beamed, looping her arm through yours as if you’d just made her day. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Someone has to keep you in check.” You teased, giving her a gentle nudge as the two of you started down the hallway.

“So,” She began, her tone shifting to one of playful curiosity. “You haven’t updated me on your annoying boy this week. Still giving you trouble?”

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help smiling at her persistence. “Just a little, but nothing I can’t handle,” you said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation away.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Ji-eun said, narrowing her eyes at you. “What happened this time?”

You hesitated but gave in under her expectant gaze. “I ran into him again. It... wasn’t great. We fought again.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching your arm like you’d just revealed a scandal. “How thrilling! And here I was thinking my life was dramatic with all these needles and IV bags.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No more run-ins this week, though, so that’s a win.”

Ji-eun gave your arm a comforting squeeze. “Progress. Honestly, I wish my boys would talk about things like this. All they ever discuss these days is what’s happening at work.”

“Either of them coming by tonight?”

Ji-eun shakes her head, “No they both are so busy. My youngest especially these days. My husband will be here after too long though.”

“Good, and trust me, you’re not missing much. I would accept work gossip over boy drama any day.” You said, though your smile wavered slightly as the truth of your own words settled over you.

When you reached her room, you helped her ease into bed, adjusting her blankets and making sure she was comfortable. You still hadn’t gotten the chance to meet any of her family yet but her hospital room had been filling up more and more with things from home and things to keep her entertained. It was nice to see what she elected to have around her here. 

“You’re a saint,” Ji-eun murmured, her voice softer now, the day’s fatigue catching up to her.

“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “You need to take it easier since your treatments are going to just make everyday tasks even harder.”

“I’ll try. Goodnight, Y/N.” She points for you to leave dramatically and you comply.

“Goodnight,” Leaving with the weight of your shoulder now really barring down on you now. 

You got onto the elevator and heading down to the garage. Your phone buzzing in your pocket. 

MEL:  ME YOU ASH. SATURDAY NIGHT. IN OR OUT.

You laugh, thank god Melanie was back in town. You really needed a good night in with her and Ash so this text couldn’t come at a better time. 

:IM IN

MEL: AMAZING

MEL: small detail I may have let out 

MEL: It will also include the boys too..

MEL: BUT YOU ALREADY AGREED SO YOU CANT BACK OUT NOW

Which you knew meant Jungkook. Great. 

:that’s fine It'll be fun no matter what

You could very well keep it together. Just stay one arm attached to Melanie and nothing could go wrong. You missed her dearly and of course Namjoon. Although he probably didn’t miss the sleepovers you, Ash and Melanie would have where he ended up getting kicked out of his own bed. 

Which very well may happen again this weekend. 

You continued about your week normally and so did Jungkook. Jungkook’s week had been consumed by the trial, which included long days in court, late nights reviewing documents, and the constant hum of pressure to perform. Yet, despite the chaos, things were looking up. His team was solid, their arguments tight, and with the trial on recess until Monday, Jungkook felt unusually optimistic. Optimistic enough, in fact, to accept Taehyung’s invite for a drink—a rarity for him during trial season.

Both Jungkook and Taehyung tried to rope Namjoon into coming out as well, and Namjoon was almost convinced. Then about forty five minutes ago he was texting something about having to prepare the house for the invasion, cryptically. They both were completely unsure what that was supposed to mean. 

Taehyung was already waiting in a booth when Jungkook arrived, beer in hand and a mischievous grin ready to pounce. As Jungkook slid into the seat across from him, Taehyung gave an exaggerated round of applause. “Mr. Responsible Lawyer Boy, gracing me with his presence. This is truly an honor.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile as he set his whiskey down on the table. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve still got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me tomorrow.”

“Of course you do,” Taehyung said, raising his beer. “But look at you now—drink in hand, no case files in sight. Dare I say, you’re almost acting human.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Jungkook replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve still got a trial to win. But things are going well enough that I figured I could afford one night off. Or at least an hour.”

“Rare footage of Jungkook actually relaxing,” Taehyung said, pulling out his phone and pretending to film him. “Better capture this before you start muttering about depositions and cross-examinations again.”

Jungkook smirked, setting his glass down. “I’d be careful if I were you. That phone footage might mysteriously disappear.”

Taehyung chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Alright, mystery man. So, what’s got you in such a good mood? Jimin’s been saying you’ve been acting... off this week.”

Jungkook sighed, he figured he would hear something about earlier this week. Jimin and Taehyung were already in Jungkook's business enough so any change in behavior does not escape them, “Of course he has. Between the wedding and this trial, I’ve had a lot on my plate. That’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” Taehyung said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “You’ve barely had any time for me. Do you know how neglected I feel? My best friend, abandoning me in my time of need?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes again. “Poor you. You were one of the groomsmen if you remember. I saw you the entire time.”

“Poor me indeed! You were so busy trying to one up Y/N the whole time.” Taehyung exclaimed, throwing an arm over his eyes in mock despair. “I’ve had to survive on scraps of attention while you’ve been off doing... whatever it is you’ve been doing.”

“Work,” Jungkook said pointedly. “Once this trial is over, I’ll have plenty of time to make it up to you. My mind’s just been... all over the place lately.”

“Something bothering you?” Taehyung asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Jungkook pushed him back with a laugh. “No. Nothing in particular.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung took a long sip of his beer, clearly not convinced. Jungkook could sense now Taehyung was dancing around something. He had something he wanted to ask. “Jimin said you’ve been quieter than usual. That’s weird, even for you, especially this close to a trial. Thought there might be something on your mind.”

“If this trial goes well, it’s a huge opportunity for me. Potential promotion. That’s all.” Jungkook shrugs, playing it cool. Still unsure where Taehyung is taking this.

Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering this. “Makes sense. But, you know, I thought I might’ve had an idea why you’ve been acting so strange...”

“Tae,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Taehyung grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything.” He sat up straight, switching gears with a dramatic clap of his hands. “I do know how you can make it up to me for all the lost hang-out time, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook said, skeptical. “What’s that?”

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

a/n: Maybe not the most exciting chapter but I have been very excited to show that college flashback. Although not the most important piece of their history - it is important none the less... because they were friends once?? hmmmmmm.

[valkyriexo]

Do Not Answer | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Joker Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Thriller, lightly Suggestive

ᑉ³warnings; lightly suggestive , knives, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of murder, darker theme overall,

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @linocvp1d (sorry it took so long :((( ) Thank you for beta reading @kisskissbanggang ! i appreciate you so much

The television flickered in the dimly lit room, the chaotic hum of the nightly news filling the space. You sat cross-legged on the worn velvet couch, your head tilted with fascination as the anchor recounted another crime spree. The footage cut to a shaky video of a man standing amid a scene of mayhem—cars ablaze, shattered glass strewn across the pavement, and panicked faces blurred in the background.

He stood out against the chaos like a twisted masterpiece, his lanky frame wrapped in mismatched layers that defied logic yet demanded attention. A deep violet blazer, scuffed and torn, hung loosely over his narrow shoulders. Beneath it, a bright green shirt peeked out, its garish color streaked with dark stains. The golden tangle of his hair fell over his forehead, sticking to his pale skin, streaked with what looked like sweat—or maybe blood.

But it was his face that held you captive. Pale as porcelain, the corners of his mouth curled unnaturally high, splitting his expression into an almost painful grin. Dark rings encircled his eyes, smudged kohl blending into streaks of grime, making the wild gleam in his gaze all the more unsettling.

His presence was magnetic, the kind that drew you closer even as every sane fiber of your being told you to run. He turned toward the camera, cocking his head in a gesture that felt like both an invitation and a threat.

“They’ll never catch me,” his voice crackled through the speakers, low and smooth, laced with deranged amusement.

You tilted your head to mirror his, a slow smile creeping across your lips. There was something… fascinating about him, something that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

The anchor’s voice pulled you back, but this time it was tinged with barely concealed fear. “Authorities are urging all residents to remain inside. Lock your doors, secure your windows, and under no circumstances should you engage with strangers. This individual is considered extremely dangerous.”

The screen cut to footage of the aftermath of his latest crime—a burning building, emergency lights flashing against the smoke-filled night, and paramedics rushing stretcher after stretcher into waiting ambulances. “He’s been known to target random victims, often at night,” the anchor continued, her voice cracking slightly. “And—” she hesitated, glancing off-screen before swallowing hard and regaining her composure. “There are reports of him taunting his targets before striking. If you receive a call from an unknown number, do not answer. Repeat: do not answer.”

Your gaze remained locked on the screen, the anchor’s panicked words a distant hum in your ears. They didn’t understand him. Not really.

Your phone buzzed suddenly, jolting you out of your thoughts. 

It sat face down on the coffee table, the vibration rattling against the surface. You froze, your pulse quickening, but you didn’t move to pick it up.

The ringing continued for a few seconds before stopping, leaving the room in heavy silence. You exhaled shakily, trying to steady your breathing. It was probably nothing. A butt dial call. Or—

The phone buzzed again, breaking your train of thought. This time, you reached for it with hesitant fingers, flipping it over to see the name glowing on the screen:

Mom.

You let out a small breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and answered. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you watching the news? It’s terrifying. Please tell me you’re home and have the doors locked.” Her voice carried that familiar mix of worry and love that she’d perfected over the years.

“Yes, I’m home,” you said, moving toward the kitchen as you spoke. “Doors are locked. I’m fine, Mom. Promise.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right? I just—these things are happening so close to home, and that man…” Her voice trailed off, and you could practically see the way she’d be wringing her hands, pacing the living room.

You balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder as you pulled open the fridge. “I’m fine. Really. I’m about to make dinner. Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, okay. Just… call me if you need anything. And don’t answer any strange calls, okay?”

You bit back a smile. “You’ve been watching too many horror movies.”

“This isn’t funny, honey. Just be safe.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The call ended, and you set the phone down on the counter. With a small shake of your head, you turned your attention to dinner, pulling ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. The steady rhythm of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of oil in the pan brought a sense of normalcy to the evening.

The man from the news lingered at the edges of your thoughts, though. His image seemed burned into your mind—the wild glint in his eyes, the way his crooked smile exuded both danger and charisma.

You stirred the pan, letting the aroma of cooking fill the room. And then, just as you were plating your food, the phone buzzed again.

You glanced over, expecting another call from your mom, but the screen read:

Unknown Caller.

Your hand froze on the fork, your stomach knotting. The words of the anchor came rushing back:

 Do not answer.

The buzzing continued, persistent and jarring in the quiet apartment. You licked your lips, wiping your hands on a towel as you moved toward the phone.

You hesitated, the warnings running laps in your mind. Your fingers hovered over the screen, but before you could decide, the call stopped. The screen went dark, leaving an eerie stillness in the room.

You stared at the phone for a moment, your breath shallow. 

It’s nothing, you told yourself. Probably a mistake or a spam call.

But then, it buzzed again. The same Unknown Caller.

Your heart raced as you watched it vibrate on the counter, your feet rooted in place. You didn’t move, didn’t answer, and after a few seconds, the ringing stopped again.

The silence that followed felt heavier this time, pressing down on you like a weight. You exhaled shakily, wiping your palms on your jeans, trying to dismiss the growing unease twisting in your chest.

And then it buzzed a third time.

The screen glowed, Unknown Caller staring back at you like a challenge.

Your hand trembled slightly as you picked it up. Something inside you stirred—curiosity, defiance, or maybe something darker. Whatever it was, it overrode the warnings in your head.

With a deep breath, you swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end. And then, a low, smooth chuckle, warm and unsettling all at once.

“Well, well,” the voice purred with amusement. “Third time’s the charm. I was beginning to think you’d never pick up.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the voice sending a shiver down your spine. It was unmistakable—him.

“I don’t usually make house calls,” he continued, his tone playful but laced with malice, “but you… you’re an exception.”

You gripped the phone tighter, your pulse pounding in your ears. “Who is this?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though the crack at the end betrayed you.

He laughed again, the sound rich and unnerving, as though he was savoring your reaction. “Oh, come on. Don’t play coy. I think you know exactly who I am.”

You were silent.

 “Oh, come on now,” he purred, as though savoring your confusion. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize the voice.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. Was he toying with you? But it was impossible—how could he know who you were?

“Why are you calling me?” you demanded, trying to regain control, but your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Because you’re so… interesting,” he said, dragging out the word, the tone heavy with meaning. “You’ve been home all day, haven’t you? Just sitting there, waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever changes, does it? Same routine, same quiet apartment.” His voice lowered, almost whispering, sending a chill down your spine. “I can hear the silence. It’s deafening.”

The panic surged in your chest. “How—how do you know that?” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Another laugh, sharp and unnerving, echoed through the line. “I told you. I’ve been paying attention. It’s… entertaining, watching you go about your little life. You get so comfortable, so predictable. But that’s about to change.”

Your blood ran cold. He was right. You had been alone all day, just the television and the hum of your thoughts. But how could he know? There was no way he was here… no way he could have been watching.

“You’re making a mistake,” you snapped, trying to hide the fear rising in your throat. “I don’t know who you are, but—”

“Oh, I know you’re scared,” he interrupted, his voice turning colder. “I can hear it in your voice. But you don’t have to worry. I’m just getting started.”

The line went silent for a moment, and you held your breath, your pulse thundering in your ears. The words didn’t make sense—none of this made sense. How could he possibly know all this?

Your knees threatened to buckle, but you forced yourself to stay upright. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re intrigued,” he shot back, not missing a beat. “Why else would you still be on the phone with me?”

Before you could respond, there was a faint sound in the background—a door creaking open. Your blood ran cold as you spun toward your front door.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he drawled lazily. “I’m not much for formal invitations.”

The phone slipped from your hand as the doorknob turned slowly, the lock you thought was secure clicking open.

There he stood, a twisted smile curling across his face, the same one burned into your memory from the screen. Up close, he was even more unsettling—the gleam in his eyes alive with chaotic energy, like he was drinking in your shock.

“Well, well,” he said, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him. “Dinner and a show. How thoughtful.”

You backed up instinctively, your heart hammering against your ribs. “How—how did you get in here?”

He tilted his head, feigning innocence as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his tattered blazer. “You’d be surprised what doors open when you knock hard enough.”

Your eyes darted to the kitchen counter, where the knife you’d been using lay within reach.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” he said, noticing your glance. His voice dipped into a mock pout. “I came all this way to see you, and you’re already thinking of cutting me out of the fun?”

“What do you want?” you managed, your voice trembling despite the defiance you tried to muster.

He grinned wider, his teeth glinting in the dim light. “Now that,” he said, taking another step toward you, “is the question, isn’t it?”

He moved closer, the heavy silence of the room pressing in around both of you. His eyes gleamed with excitement, watching your every twitch, your every nervous breath. He didn’t need to rush; he was savoring this moment—this perfect mix of fear and control.

"You don't have to say anything," he purred, his voice smooth as velvet. "I already know how this goes." His words dripped with a mock sympathy, the kind that made your skin crawl. "You’ll beg. You’ll plead. But that won’t matter."

His steps were slow, deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. Every footfall echoed in the quiet, reminding you that there was nowhere to run, no escape. His hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, the touch cold and deliberate.

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking, trying to hide the tremor that rattled your body. "Don’t… don’t hurt me." You couldn’t stop the pleading from slipping out. It was instinct, raw panic clawing at you from the inside. You wanted to disappear, wanted to be anywhere but here, but your body refused to listen.

He stood inches from you now, close enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, his breath warm against your face. "Oh, sweetheart," he said softly, almost mockingly. "I don’t want to hurt you. Not yet, anyway." He let that hang in the air for a moment, like a question you didn’t want to answer.

You flinched as he took another step, your back hitting the wall behind you. The tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming sense of helplessness seeping in. "Please," you sobbed, "just leave me alone. I’m begging you."

He smiled then, a cruel, twisted thing that sent ice through your veins. "Begging. There it is." His voice dropped lower, more sinister, a soft laugh rolling off his tongue. "I could watch you beg for hours. It’s almost too easy."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm on your ear. "Do you know what happens to people who beg?" His lips brushed your skin as he spoke, sending a shiver through your whole body. "They break. They start losing themselves. And once you break, there’s nothing left to stop me."

Your heart pounded harder as his hand rested on the side of your face, his fingers lightly tracing your cheek in a gesture that should have been comforting but only deepened your terror.

But then, just as you felt the breath leave your body in a sob, something inside you shifted.

You stopped crying.

His fingers stilled on your cheek, sensing the change in you. You met his gaze, and for the first time since he'd walked in, you weren’t afraid. At least, not the way he thought you were.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the terrified grin of someone who had given up. No, this was different. It was sharp. It was knowing. And in that instant, his cocky, dangerous demeanor faltered for the briefest moment.

"Oh Hyunjin..," you said, your voice steady, almost affectionate.

The moment his name left your lips, everything around you seemed to freeze. His breath caught, his eyes wide, locked on yours, and for the first time, he was the one who faltered. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. His fingers, still resting on your cheek, remained perfectly still, as though the very mention of his name had shattered the illusion he’d so carefully crafted.

His gaze flickered, confusion clouding his features as he took a step back, the momentary vulnerability in his eyes like a crack in his carefully constructed façade.

His grip on your chin tightened, and he leaned in, his face inches from yours. "What game are you playing, huh?" His voice was low, threatening, but the edge of uncertainty had crept in, making it even more unsettling. "You think you can scare me back?"

You leaned closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "I’ve been waiting for you to find me."

His breath hitched as you leaned even closer, your lips just grazing his ear, the intimacy of the moment sending a jolt through him. You could feel the tension thickening in the air, the battle between control and the unsettling connection that was forming between the two of you.

"I've been waiting for you to find me," you repeated, your voice soft, almost like a lover’s whisper.

The words sank into his skin, and for a split second, he pulled back just enough to study you, eyes narrowing, trying to comprehend what you meant. But there was something in your gaze—something that unnerved him, something that spoke of obsession.

He'd known women like you before. Women who thought they could twist themselves into something he would desire, something that would draw him in. But as he watched you now, he realized it wasn't just imitation. It was a deep understanding, a disturbing knowledge of him that made his skin crawl.

"Oh?," he muttered, but even his voice was strained, as if he was both fascinated and horrified by the truth he was starting to uncover. "What... what are you trying to do?"

You didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, your eyes wandered over his face, studying every line, every scar, every little detail as though you were committing it to memory. Your gaze was unsettling—intimate in a way that only someone who had watched him for too long could achieve.

"You think I’m just like the others," you said, your voice flat but somehow laced with something darker, something dangerous. "But I'm not. I know you. I know exactly what you like, Hyunjin. I know who you choose. And I knew if I made myself like them..." You paused, the ghost of a smile on your lips, "you couldn’t help but find me."

His eyes widened in disbelief, but then a twisted smile slowly curled at the corners of his lips, as if he were finally seeing you for who you really were. "So that's it," he said, the words slipping from his tongue like venom. "You thought you could lure me in? Make yourself a perfect little victim? Pathetic."

Your gaze never left his as you shrugged, unphased by his harsh words. "You came right to my doorstep, didn't you?" Your voice was a low hum. "You always do when someone like me is waiting. You can't help it. You’re drawn to what you don’t understand."

His grip on your chin tightened again, and this time, there was no pretending. He was beyond the point of merely intimidating you. He was starting to lose control, the realization that he wasn’t the one in charge anymore sinking in.

"You're out of your fucking mind," he hissed, but there was something about your quiet smile—something unsettling in the way you leaned in even closer—that made him pause. 

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back away. Instead, you pressed in even closer, until your faces were mere inches apart. His eyes searched yours, desperate to figure out where the line was, where he could draw it and finally break you. 

But the truth was, there was no line. You had crossed it a long time ago.

"I’ve always known, Hyunjin," you whispered, the words dripping with something far darker than admiration. "I’ve always known what you needed. And I’ve been here, waiting for you... just for you."

His grip on your chin tightened again, but his movements were no longer about power. There was a flicker of something else—something almost... excited. “You think you’re some kind of challenge, huh?” His words were laced with a hint of amusement, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. You didn’t even blink.

His lips curled into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was more a test now—seeing how far you’d go. He took a step back, dropping his hand from your chin, and without saying another word, he moved toward the far wall of the room. He reached for the knives lined up on the counter nearby, the cold steel glinting in the dim light. The air between you two felt thick, charged with something dangerous, something raw.

You didn’t move, didn’t even seem to acknowledge him as he grabbed the first knife, expertly flipping it in his hand, his eyes still locked on yours. With a flick of his wrist, the blade flew through the air, embedding itself into the wall just inches from your face. It would’ve been too close for anyone else, but you didn’t flinch. 

You didn’t even blink.

He threw another, then another, each one grazing the edge of the wall near you. The room filled with the sharp thuds of metal hitting the hard surface, but still, you remained completely still. Unshaken. Your eyes remained fixed on him, watching, waiting, almost... entertained.

"Are you done?" you say.

Hyunjin’s breath grew heavier, the fascination in his gaze deepening. No one had ever dared to remain so calm, so unmoved in front of him. Most people were terrified by the chaos he created, by the danger he so freely wielded. But you? You were something else entirely.

He took a slow step toward you, his eyes never leaving your face. The silence between you both was suffocating, a heavy tension that only seemed to grow with every passing second. He wasn’t sure if he was testing you or if he was just trying to understand you. Could someone like you really be real? Or was this all just an act to survive?

You broke the silence first, not with words, but with a simple gesture. You didn’t flinch. Instead, you turned toward the TV, flicking it on with a calmness that only made his heart beat faster. As the screen lit up, the news anchor’s voice cut through the silence of the room.

“Breaking news tonight: a series of brutal killings in the city have been linked to an unknown assailant. Authorities are urging citizens to remain cautious as they investigate the disturbing pattern...”

The screen flashed a picture of the victims, the same faces he had seen on the news before. But now, there was something different. Something far more intimate. 

They were your victims.

Hyunjin froze, the knife in his hand trembling slightly as he turned to look at you. You met his gaze with a knowing smile, your eyes now gleaming with something dangerous—something he hadn’t expected.

“Did you think I was just waiting for you to find me?” you asked softly, your voice almost teasing now. “I’ve been watching. I’ve been planning... learning. Everything you’ve done, everything you’re capable of... I’m not afraid of you, Hyunjin. You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

He swallowed, the words getting caught in his throat as he took another step back, his eyes flickering between you and the TV screen. The truth was right there. You were real. You were every bit as dangerous as he was, and maybe, just maybe, you were even more unpredictable than he’d ever imagined.

His smirk returned, though this time, it was something darker, a mixture of amusement and raw desire. "Well, well," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. "You’re insane. But damn, if that doesn’t make this interesting."

He dropped the knife onto the table, and for the first time since he'd walked in, he didn’t look like the predator. Instead, he looked like someone who had just met their match.

Hyunjin's heart raced, but it wasn’t from fear. It was something far more thrilling, something that tightened in his chest with every word you spoke. The way you watched him, the cold calculation in your eyes, sent a shiver down his spine, but also made something dark stir in the pit of his stomach. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.

But instead of backing off, you stepped closer. You didn’t even flinch at the knives, didn’t even seem to acknowledge their deadly proximity. Your gaze was locked on his, not with fear, but with anticipation.

You reached up, your fingers trailing along his jawline, the touch almost gentle. He leaned into it, despite himself. There was something about your proximity, the way you were pulling him in, that was impossible to resist.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered, voice low, almost a growl. “But you’re also exactly what I wanted.”

You smiled, that same knowing, dangerous smile that made his pulse race. “I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered, the words heavy with meaning. “In fact, I think I’m starting to enjoy this... maybe even more than you are.”

And before he could say anything more, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate—two predators finally giving in to their shared hunger. His hands flew to your back, pulling you in closer, deeper, as if he couldn’t get enough. You responded with equal ferocity, your body pressing into his, hands threading through his hair, pulling him in until there was no space left between you.

His mind screamed at him to regain control, to pull away, to remind you who was in charge. But the heat of your kiss, the wild, untamed energy that sparked between you both, left him speechless. It was a game now, but not one he had planned. He had underestimated you, and that, more than anything, turned him on.

As he pulled away from the kiss, both of you breathing heavily, the moment seemed to stretch, thick with tension and something more primal. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to decode every part of you that he hadn’t yet understood, that still eluded him.

He smirked, his voice still low and rough, a trace of amusement dancing in his gaze. “What’s your name?”

You tilted your head, considering the question, your lips curving into a knowing smile. There was something unsettlingly confident about you now, like you were no longer trying to hide who you were—who you had always been.

“Harley Quinn,” you answered, your voice sweet, but with a dangerous edge.

He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of that name.The look in his eyes was a mixture of intrigue and caution, as though he was beginning to understand exactly what kind of monster he was dealing with.

"Harley Quinn," he repeated, testing the name on his lips. The idea of you being a version of him—crazy, unpredictable, and dangerously charming—was a twist he hadn’t expected. You weren’t just some fragile victim. You were something else, something much more volatile.

"You like it?" you teased, watching him with a playful glint in your eyes, completely unfazed by the weight of the moment.

He chuckled darkly, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never left yours. "I think I’m starting to like you, Quinn." The way he said your name, with both amusement and an underlying hunger, made it clear he wasn’t talking about anything as simple as affection.

You smiled, leaning in just enough to brush your lips against his ear once more. "Careful, Hyunjin... you might find out I'm more dangerous than you think."

He exhaled slowly, his smirk widening as he pulled you back into another kiss, a kiss that promised there was no going back.

And just like that, the Joker had found his Queen.

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[mikkomacko]

Imagine Mob Boss Nico coming home to find some of the Devs watching the Barbie movie with Reader and they’re doing mud masks or something. And he’s just like 🙄 and sits down to also have Reader put a mud mask on him. Like he’s just so gone for her that he’s will to do whatever she wants

Even though Nico had to work late, he’d sent the boys home hours ago. There was no point in making everyone stay late, not when this was something he could handle himself. Besides, why ruin everyone’s day?

So Nico took one for the team, and now hours later, he unlocks the front door and drags his heavy bones through the threshold.

He can hear you just across the way, shushing Moose who made a noise of alarm at the sound of the door. But that’s not the only voice coming from the living room, no. He can hear the boys, Jack and Luke at the very least because they’re so loud.

And Alex too, if the accent is anything to go by. Even without hearing it though, he could’ve guessed the kid was here. Usually wherever you go, he follows.

Nico kicks off his shoes and flannel, messily leaving them by the door before padding down the entryway.

The sight makes him stop in his tracks.

You and all the boys are sat in a half circle in the middle of the living room, eyes locked on the tv despite the fact that you’re all chatting with each other. And it’s the…The Barbie Movie which might have surprised him if he weren’t so shocked by the matching face masks you’ve all got on.

Bright green, smeared over everyone’s noses and across their cheeks, cracking around the mouth and eyes from laughing and chatting.

Ok if he’d have known this is where everyone was going when he sent them home early, he would’ve made them stay. He should have come home early, snuggled into you on the couch while you did your face mask and just relaxed with him.

Which, he can do now too, he guesses.

Wordlessly, he moves into the living room. Mercer is the one to look away from the tv, briefly glancing at Nico as he rushes out a quick greeting. “Hey boss.”

Nico crouches down behind you, touching the small of your back and you tilt your head back to look at him.

“Hi baby,” he leans down to kiss your hairline, dodging the dried product. You smile, slices of skin peeking through the cracks of your face mask.

“Hi handsome,” you greet, flinching when every boy around you makes a shushing noise. Nico scoffs, taking your hand and together you climb up from the floor.

The two of sit on the couch. “The spa in town?”

“We were relaxing,” you murmur, keeping your voice down. Raising an eyebrow, you look at him questioningly. “Want to relax with us boss? Unwind after a long day?”

Nico laughs. “My idea of unwinding after a long day doesn’t really involve face masks and the boys.”

You turn towards him, knee pressing into his thigh. Nico takes ahold of the hand closest to him, feeling how soft and warm they are.

“Relax with me and the boys now,” you offer, eyes glinting with mischief. “And then you and I can unwind later.”

“Yeah?”

“We can unwind multiple times.”

Nico groans quietly, shaking his head with an amused noise. “Mmm you’ve got yourself a deal.”

You smirk victoriously, squeezing his hand just once and leaning into kiss his cheek. “Come on, you have to wash your face first.”

[fairylibe]

between us and the moon.

1415 words. angst with some comfort, highly interpretive. based on jude's past records. features: child! jude jazza & kate, victor.

꒰ summary ꒱ kate gives child! jude a hug. some inspiration was taken from this fanart.

(I)

wherever he went, the moon followed.

the moonlight seemed so bright, jude couldn’t help but look down at the concrete.

today as well, the work was grueling.

but when he saw a familiar figure upon pushing the heavy door open, his heart lightened up just a little, and his features softened a tad.

“big brother, you’re home! what took ya so long?”

“took a detour.” jude collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

the person before him tilted their head. “from where? goin’ through the nooks n’ crannies this time o’ night can be dangerous, ya know.”

jude closed his eyes for a moment — when he did, an image flashed in his mind.

“…today was a full moon.”

“hehe, thinkin’ ‘bout our promise? don’t go thinkin’ ‘bout breakin’ it.”

jude showed a small smile.

“…don’t matter if i gotta use money, magic, ya name it. someday, i’ll make it happen.”

——how could he not, when the image in his mind was engraved in his soul so deeply?

indeed, it was so clear, it could probably last ten thousand years.

(II)

“wow, the moon is so big…” as kate walked down the hallway, she looked out the window.

outside, the moon hung from the sky, so full and large she felt she could touch it.

“they say witchcraft’s at its strongest when the moon is at its largest.”

“eek!” kate jumped and turned around, seeing victor standing right behind her. “v-victor! don’t scare me like that!”

“haha, you must’ve been fairly out of it if you didn’t notice. bewitched by the moon tonight?”

“hm? oh, i guess…” kate’s voice trailed off as she looked back out the window.

victor’s gaze followed, his voice remaining lighthearted. “i have a tickling feeling some magic is going to happen tonight.”

kate chuckled as well at his somewhat theatric words. “what, are you holding another magic show?”

“aw, miss kate, could it be you miss my magic shows? you know i’m always happy to show you my tricks.” victor’s eyes were like crescents as he smiled, but then his expression recomposed. “…but i mean a different type of magic this time.”

“a different type?”

the corner of his lips quirked up as he brought his index finger up.

“be careful when opening doors after the clock strikes midnight. if you open the wrong door at the wrong time, i can’t guarantee you will be able to return safely until the next full moon.”

(III)

“▧▧▧▧, ya doin’ okay?”

they laid on the bed — a far cry from the energetic disposition they had just some time before.

now, coughing was a regular occurrence. sometimes, they would shiver as well.

jude held onto their hand, grasping it as tightly as his coarse fingers could.

it was as though he wanted to capture any sign of warmth.

or before that, he wanted to find a semblance of it.

“i’m…sorry…”

their voice came out as a raspy whisper before more coughing resounded in the room. the hand jude held gently held his back in a silent urge for him to relax.

although it did little to ease his mind.

after all, what they had couldn’t be treated without medicine.

and medicine costed money — more money than what he could currently make in a year, he reckoned.

jude clicked his tongue, more so annoyed at himself than anything else. but this only elicited an amused, albeit weak chuckle from his sibling.

“why so hard on yourself?” ▧▧▧▧ lifted jude’s hand, and he let them guide his hand as though they were the moon. “…you’re already like the moon to me. so that’s why…”

“▧▧▧▧…” jude’s voice trailed off, his amethyst eyes becoming more misty as he heard their voice fade into a whisper.

“that’s why…if i can stay by your side…that is more than enough.”

“then i’ll stay by your side,” jude replied, “it’s a promise ‘til the end.”

they gave jude a smile before turning their head to look up at the moon, high above the sky.

“i wonder how far the moon is,” they murmured.

jude didn’t know the answer then.

he eventually did find out —— but only when their voice faded to nothingness.

(IV)

kate couldn’t get victor’s words out of her head.

maybe he was indeed joking, but also…what if he was not? what would happen, then, were she to open a door she shouldn’t have?

sighing while mulling over her own thoughts, she turned the doorknob to her door, eager to plop onto the soft sheets of her bed, when——

“ahhh?!”

opening the door, she was greeted by a blinding light.

so bright…!

it took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings, her eyes slowly presenting her with a sight that looked somewhat familiar, but was also a far cry from her room.

“w-w-w-wha…”

the first thing she saw was a fight breaking out.

or…it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a child, a boy who couldn’t have passed his teen years, getting beaten by some adults.

what stood out to kate was the amethyst-colored eyes this child had, which seemed to gleam with an unyielding flame of determination, only kindled by the inevitable pain.

what is going on?!

kate was bewildered, for sure, but also, she wanted to help that child as well.

her body moved on her own then.

“stop right there!!”

the child’s eyes widened, but he quickly recomposed himself. it would appear he was accustomed to such situations.

the attackers tried to retaliate, but they didn’t know that kate had a good mentor named roger when it came to the art of self defense.

when the attackers fled (not without spitting on the ground in contempt though), kate turned toward the child.

it was then she noticed his silver hair with black streaks.

“you…”

is this jude?

kate reached out to him to check to see if he was hurt, but the boy slapped her hand away, shooting kate a glare.

“i never asked for your help, ya goody two shoes.”

well, that was more than enough to answer the question that popped into her mind some mere seconds before.

(V)

who knows how much time had passed.

the first few days, kate ran into (child) jude, and he would swat her hand away, glare at her, and run off somewhere she didn’t know.

he kind of reminded her of a cat.

but as a bit more time went on, the two started making small talk.

“how long are you going to eat stale bread?”

“none o’ ya darn business.”

“actually, i think i have very valid concerns about your health, jude——ah.”

kate put her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

jude looked at her, his brows raised.

“i didn’t tell ya my name. what does that make ya, a stalker?”

“no way!”

and, as a week passed, kate would sometimes find jude sitting on top of some burlap sacks piled on top of one another, looking up at the sky.

usually, his amethyst eyes had some fire in them, but when they looked at the moon, they seemed so dull in comparison. it was like he was deep in thought, but said thoughts weighed down on him, making him look far from a child.

one day — or one night — for the first time perhaps, jude asked kate a question.

“…how far is the moon?”

“…around 385,000 kilometers.” adult you told me at one point, after all.

jude spared kate a side glance before looking back up. “…i see.” after a pause, his next words came out in a murmur. “maybe if i met ya sooner, things would’ve been different.”

somehow, seeing his profile in the darkness, illuminated only by the silver moonlight, made him seem infinitely lonely…

and kate couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around jude.

at first, he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away; he likely didn’t have much vigor to do so at this point.

no words were exchanged between them, but none were needed.

but then, another question seemingly whispered in kate’s ears.

“then, do ya think it’s possible to go to the moon?”

it seemed like a simple question, and yet at the same time so vulnerable for a reason kate didn’t know of.

“yes,” she replied after a pause, “i do.”

“hah, ya sure know how to be a goody two shoes.”

but for the first time since she came to this mysterious world, she felt arms wrap around her back.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @velisle @candiedcoffeedrops @judesmoonbeauty @.comment to be added or removed!

[greengoblinswifey]

Break Up With Your Girlfriend— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you can’t help but have a crush on your sister’s boyfriend and when you stay over at their shared apartment, things get heated when she leaves.

warnings— infidelity, dom!nicholas, food play(with whipped cream), oral(m&f receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.

a/n— obvi i don’t condone cheating irl but i love fulfilling my readers’ requests. also, i accidentally deleted it, so sorry, yk yourself and i hope you enjoy this🤭

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Spending the night at your sister and Nicholas’ shared apartment made you a little nervous. Not because you weren’t close to your sister—quite the opposite—but because of him. Nicholas. Her boyfriend. The man you secretly couldn’t stop thinking about and had a huge crush on, even though you knew it was so, so wrong. He was six years older, towering over you with his sharp features and a smile that could make anyone weak.

It wasn’t just his looks, though. It was the way he seemed to notice you. The way he leaned into conversations, tilting his head as if you were the only person in the room. The way his dark eyes held yours a little too long, like he was daring you to look away first. And you always did.

You tried to avoid being alone with him, but it was inevitable. Your sister had gone out for groceries, and, as always, she’d be gone for hours. You were left sitting on their couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, dressed in a casual two-piece—soft shorts that looked like panties and a matching tank top that felt too revealing now under Nicholas’ occasional glances.

He was in the kitchen, and your stomach growled quietly at the thought of the whipped cream in the fridge. It wasn’t yours to take, but the craving was persistent.

You approached the kitchen hesitantly, your bare feet padding softly on the cool tile floor. Nicholas looked up from his phone as you entered, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“Need something?” he asked, his voice warm but laced with that teasing edge that always made your pulse race.

“Um,” you started softly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts. “Can I, um, have some of the whipped cream? I know it’s yours, but—”

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to ask so sweetly,” he said, stepping closer. “But, let me hear you say please.”

Your cheeks burned. “Please?” you managed, barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Say, please, Nicholas.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor, heat flooding your body as your thighs pressed together instinctively. “Please, Nicholas,” you murmured, but his fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Louder,” he said, his tone soft but commanding.

You swallowed hard, your voice shaking as you repeated, “Please, Nicholas.”

He grinned and stepped back. “That’s better. I’ll get it for you.”

You watched, frozen, as he retrieved the whipped cream from the fridge. But instead of handing it to you, he held it up.

“Open your mouth,” he said, his voice dropping slightly.

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out slightly. He sprayed the whipped cream into your mouth, the cool sweetness melting on your tongue, but some of it caught on your lips.

Nicholas’ gaze darkened as he leaned in. “You’ve got some right here,” he murmured, swiping his thumb along your lower lip. You thought he’d step back, but instead, he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it clean.

The air between you felt thick, charged with something. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, and Nicholas noticed.

“You’re always shy around me” he said, his voice low as he took another step closer. You were practically backed into the counter now, his presence overwhelming.

“I-I’m not shy,” you stammered, but even to your ears, it sounded unconvincing.

He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Sure you’re not,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

Moments like this weren’t new. You remembered the way his eyes would linger on you during family gatherings or how he’d find excuses to stand a little too close. He’d cornered you before, literally, during a party at their place, his arms braced on either side of you as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. You’d stuttered through some excuse to escape, but the heat of his gaze had stayed with you long after.

And now, here he was again, watching you like he knew all the thoughts you tried to hide.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

“I’m not nervous,” you protested weakly, though your trembling hands betrayed you.

“Right,” he said, his smirk widening as he leaned in again, brushing past you to set the whipped cream on the counter. “Better finish that before your sister gets back.”

You nodded quickly, grabbing the can and retreating to the living room, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

After moving to the living room, you curled up on the couch, mindlessly watching TV while scooping small bites of whipped cream onto your finger. The taste was sweet, but the air felt charged. Nicholas settled beside you, his presence magnetic. You could feel his eyes on you, a heat that made it impossible to focus.

When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, smirking.

“What?” you asked, voice soft.

“Nothing,” he replied, tilting his head slightly. “Just admiring how pretty you are.”

The words hit like a bolt of lightning. Your chest tightened, cheeks flushed. “Prettier than her,” he added, the implication unmistakable.

You froze. You and your sister had similar features, but hearing that from him made your stomach churn—and not from guilt. You knew you should be angry, should push him away, but instead, your heart thudded harder.

“Really?” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

His gaze softened, and his lips curled into a sly smile. “Yes, baby, really,” he said. The pet name left you reeling. It wasn’t meant for you, yet the way it rolled off his tongue felt like it belonged to you and you alone.

Your voice wavered. “You’re my sister’s boyfriend.”

Nicholas leaned closer, invading your space, his eyes locking onto yours. “And yet,” he said, “you can’t stop looking at me. Can’t stop squeezing your thighs every time I get too close. I know, baby. I’ve noticed.”

You swallowed hard, words failing you. How could he know? How could he see what you thought you’d hidden so well?

“I bet you’re throbbing right now,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. His words sent shivers down your spine. “Am I right?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Slowly, you nodded.

He leaned back with a knowing smile, taking the whipped cream from your hand. Before you could react, he leaned forward, squirting a line of it across your stomach.

“Nicholas!” you gasped, half in surprise, half in disbelief.

“What?” he said, voice teasing, as he set the can down. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he hovered over you. “You don’t want me to clean it up?”

Your body tensed as he dipped his head, his warm breath brushing against your brown skin. His tongue darted out, trailing over the sweet path he’d made. You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips.

He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “You make the sweetest sounds,” he murmured, the compliment sending another rush of heat through you.

Your head spun as he pressed further. “Do you want me to help with the ache, baby?”

You hesitated, your mind warring with itself. This was wrong, but in that moment, all you could think about was him. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Yes, what?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Yes, Nicholas,” you replied, barely louder than a breath.

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Good girl,” he said softly, though the praise sent your pulse racing. “But you have to tell me, baby. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Your head nodded instinctively, all logic drowned by the intensity of the moment. “I’m sure,” you managed to say, your voice trembling.

Nicholas moved closer, his hand skimming the waistband of your tiny shorts. “Can I?” he murmured, seeking your permission.

Your nod was almost imperceptible, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he slid them down your legs. The fabric clung to you, damp with evidence of your arousal. His gaze darkened as he tossed them aside.

“Wow,” he breathed, the corner of his mouth curling into a sly grin. “Just the thought of having your sister’s boyfriend above you gets you this wet?”

A spark of defiance flared in your chest, momentarily overtaking your shyness. “Yes,” you said, voice trembling but steady. “So what?”

His laugh was low, warm, and teasing. “My little baby’s getting bold,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was leaning down, his lips pressing to your inner thigh, teasing you, dragging out the moment until your entire body ached for more. When his mouth finally found your pussy, you let out a sharp gasp, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured between kisses, his words sending shivers down your spine. “So good for me.”

Your body writhed beneath him, the sensation overwhelming. His tongue moved with deliberate skill, pulling breathy moans and cries from your lips.

“You’re so perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice full of praise. “Don’t hold back, baby. Let me hear you.”

And you did—soft whimpers turning into loud cries as your hands tightened in his hair, your back arching off the couch. The intensity built to a fever pitch, and your body trembled uncontrollably as the release washed over you and you squirted.

Nicholas leaned back slightly, his lips glistening, his expression a mix of pride and satisfaction. “You just squirted for your sister’s boyfriend,” he said, voice dripping with teasing reproach. His grin widened as he ran a thumb along his jawline. “Filthy. I love it.”

You hid your face in your hands, half from embarrassment and half from the lingering heat coursing through your veins.

Nicholas only chuckled, leaning over you, brushing your hair back from your face. “Don’t go shy on me now, baby,” he murmured. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He stepped back, his hands moving to unbutton his jeans. As the fabric slid to the floor, your eyes widened, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your lips. He was already hard, straining against his boxers, and the sight left you momentarily stunned.

He noticed the way your gaze lingered, how your lips slightly pouted as a flicker of something—jealousy, perhaps, crossed your face. “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing as he pushed his boxers down. “My dick is yours now.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, but a smile crept onto your face. He stood tall, stroking his big dick slowly, his eyes locked on yours. “Open wide,” he instructed, and you obeyed without hesitation, your breath hitching as he slid himself past your lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing the side of your face as you adjusted. “Make me proud.”

You moved carefully at first, testing his reactions, and when he let out a soft moan, you found your rhythm. His praise came steadily, his voice a mix of low murmurs and breathy sounds. “I knew you’d be good at this. So much better than her,” he whispered, the words sending a jolt through you.

You doubled your efforts, your hands and mouth working together to draw every sound you could from him. His head fell back, his breaths growing ragged as you continued, your confidence building with each whimper and groan. You worked your tongue all over from the base back up to the tip and as you did, you caressed his balls, making him twitch in your hands.

When he finally came, you swallowed without a second thought, meeting his gaze with a soft smirk. His eyes widened briefly, clearly impressed. “Your sister never swallows,” he said.

“Well,” you replied, your voice steady despite the warmth in your cheeks. “I’m not her.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “No,” he said, stepping closer and brushing his thumb across your jaw. “You’re so much better.”

He leaned down, scooping you up effortlessly, and carried you to the bedroom. The room you knew was shared between him and your sister, but the thought barely registered as he laid you gently on the bed.

“You’re so eager,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your thigh. “So needy for me.”

You bit your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes, your body trembling in anticipation.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m going to take care of you, baby.”

Nicholas pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned, muscular frame. Your breath hitched as your eyes roamed over him, and you instinctively bit your lip. He noticed, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he reached for the drawer beside the bed.

He grabbed a condom, but before he could open it, you reached out, your fingers gently brushing his wrist. “I don’t want you to,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m on the pill, I want to feel all of you.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise he always used a condom with your sister, but the smirk on his face deepened. “Naughty little girl, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

“Only for you,” you replied, the boldness in your words surprising even yourself.

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse race. “Say that again,” he murmured, leaning closer.

“Only for you,” you repeated, more confidently this time.

He smirked, shaking his head slightly as if you were both trouble and a temptation he couldn’t resist. “If you want it, you’re going to have to beg for it, baby.”

Your cheeks burned, but the ache in your body outweighed your shyness. “Please, Nicholas,” you murmured, your voice soft but desperate. “I need you. I want to feel every inch, every vein. I’ll take it so well—better than she ever could.”

His eyes flickered with something primal at your words, and he let out a low growl of approval. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you, soft and slow at first, before deepening it, his lips and tongue leaving you breathless.

Gently, he pulled your top over your head, his gaze lingering on your tits. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice full of awe as his hands brushed over your skin. “Absolutely stunning.”

As he positioned himself above you, his eyes searched yours, his expression tender. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You nodded, your fingers gripping his arms. “I want this. I want you.”

With one last lingering look, he pressed inside your leaking pussy, his movements deliberate and careful. You gasped at the sensation, your body adjusting to him as he whispered praises. “You’re so tight,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers raked down his back, leaving faint red marks in their wake. He groaned at the sensation, his breath hot against your neck.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Taking me so well. Better than I ever imagined.”

You shuddered at his words, the heat between you building with every movement, every whispered praise. “Nicholas,” you moaned, your head tilting back as waves of pleasure washed over you.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”

You clung to him as your body trembled, a shuddering orgasm overtaking you. Nicholas kissed your temple softly, his own breath uneven as he whispered, “You’re incredible. This is everything I’ve dreamed of. I use to beat my dick thinking about fucking this tight pussy.”

The intimacy of the moment left you feeling raw and vulnerable, but as his lips found yours again, you knew this was what you had been longing for.

Nicholas smirked as he flipped you over effortlessly, his strong hands guiding you to arch your back. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your lower back before letting his lips graze your skin. “You’ve been so good, but I’m not going to be gentle this time.”

Your smiled as his hands gripped your hips firmly. “I don’t care,” you said breathlessly, glancing back at him. “I want it.”

His grin widened, the heat in his gaze making your skin tingle. “As you wish,” he replied, his voice low and laced with dominance.

With that, his demeanor shifted entirely. His movements were more purposeful, his pace fast and demanding as he gripped your hips. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. “I know how bad you’ve wanted me.”

“Yes,” you cried out, your voice trembling as your body rocked against his movements.

“That’s right,” he growled, his voice commanding. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You,” you gasped, your voice almost breaking.

“Say my name,” he ordered, his hands tightening on your waist. “I want to hear you moan my name.”

“Nicholas!” you cried, his name spilling from your lips as your voice rose higher.

He leaned forward, his thick cock still in you, his hand trailing down your stomach. “You feel me deep inside you?” he murmured against your ear.

You reached down instinctively, your trembling fingers brushing your brown glistening skin. You could feel his cock moving, each thrust more intense than the last. “Yes,” you whimpered, tears pooling in your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“That’s right,” he groaned, his tone full of satisfaction. “I’m so deep in you, baby. You’re mine.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you. “Let go for me,” he whispered, his voice almost tender amid the intensity. “I know you’ve waited for this.”

Your climax was overwhelming, leaving you breathless and the sheets beneath you thoroughly soaked from your juices. Nicholas’ movements didn’t falter as he chased his own release, his breaths turning ragged. He leaned down, his voice a husky whisper. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Inside me,” you murmured without hesitation.

“Fuck baby, you sure?” he asked, his tone laced with both urgency and care.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding.

A low groan escaped his lips as he let himself cum deep inside your pussy, his body tensing before he finally collapsed beside you. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths as he pulled you into his arms.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze softening as he stared down at you. His words made your heart swell, and for a moment, it felt like you were in your own little world, just the two of you.

But time wasn’t on your side. Reluctantly, you both got up after cuddling for a while, the haze of the moment replaced by hurried movements to clean up. Nicholas stripped the sheets, while you straightened the couch, glancing at him every now and then with a small smile.

Soon, the apartment was back to normal, and you were both seated on the couch, your head resting against his chest. His arm was draped around you, and you could still feel the heat of his skin against yours.

The sound of the front door opening made you both freeze. Your sister walked in, a cheerful smile on her face as she looked at the two of you. “Aww, y’all are getting along,” she said, setting her bag down.

You and Nicholas exchanged a quick glance, your smiles forced but convincing.

“Did you guys have fun without me?” she asked, oblivious to the sexual tension in the air.

He leaned back casually, his smirk barely noticeable. “Oh, we had a lot of fun,” he said, the double meaning in his tone entirely lost on her.

You bit your lip to hide your nervous laughter, nodding along as she turned away, completely unaware.

[trixy812]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ You have all my support ɞ˚‧｡⋆ pt 3.5

{Nanami Kento x reader}

ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: kento nanami x reader (boyfriend x girlfriend), fluff, funny, nanami jealous, gojo being chaotic

ִֶָ࣪☾. Summary: Reader meets Gojo!

ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: I wrote this like an Omake! I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you write comments! :D if not, i am really really happy with likes & reblogs <3 xoxo

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3

Reader meets Gojo

Two days before graduation, Nanami received a last-minute notice: he had to deliver some documents and mission reports to Jujutsu High. He didn’t want to go, but he couldn’t refuse. Knowing it was going to be tedious, he agreed to your suggestion to accompany him. "It might be our first and last visit together before you graduate from there," you had said, and he couldn’t say no to that.

You observed everything with curiosity. While you didn’t have much interest in this world, it was fascinating to be there. Plus, you knew there was a chance you might encounter the most famous figure of this world: Satoru Gojo.

"Maybe we’ll run into Gojo Satoru, huh?" you said casually, though your heart raced just thinking about it.

Nanami, walking beside you with his typical straight posture and serious demeanor, scoffed.

"You’re not missing much."

That killed your excitement, but only for a moment. You decided to let it go; after all, you knew Nanami couldn’t stand the famous Strongest Sorcerer. Just as you were turning a corner, as if someone had heard your thoughts, there he was: Satoru Gojo.

"Nanamin! I see you’ve got good company."

Gojo appeared out of nowhere, with his carefree smile, dark sunglasses, and that energy that seemed to fill the entire hallway. He walked toward you as if he were on a runway.

Nanami immediately tensed, his jaw clenching audibly.

"Gojo," he said in his usual monotone, but you…

You froze. Your eyes lit up, and before you could stop yourself, you took a step forward, clasping your hands together as if standing before a global celebrity (which, in a way, you were your parents had taught you so).

"You’re Satoru Gojo?! Oh my God, I can’t believe it!" you exclaimed, bringing your hands to your mouth.

Gojo smiled, clearly delighted by your reaction.

"That’s me. In the flesh. Autographs later? Photos? I’m quite busy, but I can make an exception for such an enthusiastic fan."

Nanami closed his eyes for a moment, clearly holding back a sarcastic comment.

"It’s an honor to meet you," you continued, almost tripping over your words in your excitement. "It’s incredible to meet a sorcerer of your caliber."

Nanami turned his head toward you, clearly surprised. He didn’t know if you were joking or actually serious.

"My reputation precedes me? Of course it does," Gojo replied, tilting his head slightly toward you. "What do you think, Nanami? She seems to have good taste."

"Don’t start," muttered Nanami, clenching his fists.

But you were too caught up in the excitement to notice Nanami’s tension.

"I never thought I’d have the chance to talk to someone like you. You’re amazing! Your abilities are legendary," you said quickly, your eyes sparkling with admiration.

Gojo placed a hand on his chest, feigning modesty. "Ah, please, you’re making me blush. Although… it’s the least I’d expect from someone with such a keen eye."

Nanami shot you a look of utter bewilderment.

"Oh, is this the girl you told me about?" Gojo asked mischievously, turning to Nanami.

"Wait… you knew about me?!" you exclaimed, clearly thrilled.

"Of course. Nanamin here doesn’t stop talking about you," Gojo lied shamelessly, ignoring Nanami’s glare. The only thing Nanami had told Gojo was—The girl who uses reversed cursed energy in the hospital, the one I was we were once sent to investigate. I bought flowers with your loan. I gave her the flowers. We're dating now. —leaving him completely disappointed by the lack of details and the simplicity of the anecdote.

"And now that I see you, I understand why. Although," Gojo added, leaning slightly closer to you with a playful smile, "I wonder how you ended up with someone so serious. Wouldn’t you prefer someone more… exciting? Like me, for instance."

Nanami stepped forward, his shoulders tense. "Gojo…"

But you, still mesmerized by the celebrity in front of you, barely processed his words.

"Huh? Well… maybe…" you replied absentmindedly, making Nanami practically scoff.

Gojo, seizing the moment, stepped even closer to you. "See? She’s a smart girl. Come on, leave boring Nanamin and come with me."

Nanami didn’t wait another second. He pulled his weapon out of his bag and placed it between you and Gojo, creating a clear space.

"Keep your distance," he said in a low, threatening tone, though not entirely serious.

"Ooh, how territorial!" Gojo teased, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Nanami. I was just testing your patience."

You finally snapped out of it, covering your face as you laughed nervously. "Sorry! I got carried away. It’s just… It’s Satoru Gojo!"

Still irritated, Nanami put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "Yes, it’s Satoru Gojo. Can we go now?"

Before you could escape, Gojo raised a hand as if he’d forgotten something.

"Oh, by the way, T/N. Such a shame about the fine your parents got. What an unfair way to treat a healer family."

You blinked, confused. "Fine? What fine?"

Gojo raised his eyebrows behind his sunglasses. "You know, for you using reverse cursed energy without registration. 10% of what your parents earn from each mission… such barbarity! Truly unfair, if you ask me."

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You turned slowly to Nanami.

"Did you know about this?" you asked quietly.

"I thought you already knew."

"What?! I didn’t know anything!" you exclaimed, holding your head in your hands.

Gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d just caused. "Well, I think I’ve gotten someone into trouble. Lovely meeting you, T/N. Nanami, take care of her. She’s a real treasure, though I think she might want to reconsider her options."

And with that, Gojo disappeared, leaving you with a mountain of questions and Nanami visibly irritated.

As you walked back to the transport, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fine.

"This doesn't make any sense. Why didn’t they tell me?" you muttered, thinking about your parents.

Nanami, still processing the incident, sighed. "You should talk to them. Maybe they had their reasons for not telling you."

Then you turned to him with a mischievous smile. "Although… it was interesting to see how you acted with Gojo. Were you jealous?"

Nanami frowned, looking away. "Don’t be ridiculous."

"Oh, sure, because pulling out your weapon was completely casual," you teased, laughing.

Though he didn’t respond, the faint blush on his cheeks was enough for you to know the truth. You laughed to yourself. You couldn’t help but feel like the entire experience had been unforgettable, especially seeing how Nanami had shown, without words, just how much you meant to him.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3

Reader meets Gojo

[bullet-prooflove]

Ask Me Again: Brock Reynolds x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fandom-oneshots-etc @sealteambravo @icyybecca @xmoonknightlyx

Companion piece to:

Buried Socks: Ceberus has a unique way of showing how much he misses you.

Brock realises he wants to marry you during a firefight in Afghanistan. His team is pinned down on one of the roads leading up to the compound where they’re situated. It’s an ambush, one they didn’t expect because they’re practically on home turf, they can see the fucking fence in the distance but as ordered no one is coming out to help.

I swear to Jesus, he prays as the firestorm rages on around him. If you get us the fuck out of here I will put a ring on that woman’s finger.

It’s then that a sniper’s bullet takes down the operator of the machine gun mounted on the back of one of the insurgent’s Jeeps. It’s followed by another and then another until the tide turns and they’re able to take out the assault team and haul ass to the encampment.

It’s an hour later that you show up. Your rifle is slung over your shoulder and there’s a checkered head scarf covering your hair. The front of your clothing is covered in dust from lying in the dirt, your gun trained on the junction where they were attacked.

“You’re in a lot of trouble Nightingale, Commander Harrington is looking to tear you a new one.” One of the guys on the gate tells you and you shrug your shoulders because you don’t really give a fuck, not when you’ve just saved the life of the man you love and his team.

They call you The Nightingale because you’re beautiful, deadly and your first name is Florance. Your commanding officer calls you a complete pain in the ass and worse when he reams you out for insubordination. They can hear it vibrating through the command post as he bellows so loud at one point his voice breaks. His problem is, he can’t get rid of you. You’re on loan to the Navy from the Army because there’s a shortage of snipers with your skill set. So he has to put up with your shit otherwise the Army takes their shiny toy away and leaves them in the hands of someone far less capable.

It's that night that Brock sneaks into your quarters, the same way he’s been doing every night since you took up residence on base. He fucks you into the mattress, his palm clasped over your mouth because his girl gets a little loud when she’s coming on his cock and these walls are paper thin.

It’s in the aftermath when he’s laying tangled up in that single cot with you that he proposes to you. You’re draped across his chest,  half asleep, when he tips your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Marry me.” He whispers, his thumb chasing over the apple of your cheek.

“Ask me when we get home.” You say and it feels like a knife plunging into his chest. “You had a close call today…”

“That’s not what this is.” He responds and you give him that look, the one he fucking hates because it makes him feel like he’s being overemotional. “It isn’t!”

“Would you have asked me if this hadn’t happened?” You say, shifting so you’re in a sitting position against the wall.

The truth is no, probably not and it pisses him off because it shouldn’t take a fucking fire fight to remind him just how fleeting life can be, how precious you are to him.

“Think about it.” You say softly as he takes up residence against the wall alongside you. Your fingers entwine with his and he tilts his head towards you so he can look into your eyes. “And if you still feel the same way when we get home, get a ring and ask me again.”

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