#i expect the next email to say Are You Embarrassed About Not Having Gone to College?

[gorelesbian]

why did my bank just send me an email with the subject line "Do You Feel Shame About Still Living At Home?" girl mind your business

[sadnesslaughs]

The worst thing about dying is talking to HR the next morning.

(A response to a writing prompt)

“With all due respect. I didn’t intentionally miss the meeting. I died yesterday. It was on the news and everything. I even texted our boss after it happened, so he knew I wouldn’t be able to make it into the office.” Garth pleaded, not wanting to lose his comfy office job. It was hard for immortals to find work, mainly because most companies either closed or got suspicious of their employee that had been working there for over a hundred years.

That’s why Amiza was perfect. A large distributor of candy and snacks, the sort of company where the bosses only see you as a statistic on an excel sheet. No one cared if he stayed here for six hundred years, as long as he showed up on time. He also had great job security, knowing that both candy and snacks were goods that would never go out of fashion. It was practically an unsinkable business, and yet he hit a roadblock in his employment. Dying yesterday on his way to work.

“Ah, yes. The ‘death certificate’.” The HR manager, Tom, resisted the urge to use air quotes, instead doing the verbal equivalent of it, giving a snarky rise in his voice as he went over the word. “You would have us believe you died and came back to life? It’s not even Easter and Christ has risen. Splendid.”

“Ah, I’m not a god or anything.” Garth said, a little embarrassed by the comparison. He had gone through a cult stage in the early 1000s, something that most immortals did while they were young. After that weirdness, he never wanted to be referred to as a deity again.

“I was being sarcastic, Mr. Backlor. How do you expect us to believe any of this? People don’t come back to life.”

“What about during open heart surgery?”

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “In that case, they may sometimes come back. Though, I doubt any medical profession is deeming them dead during the surgery. I also assume they wouldn’t turn up to work a day after being declared dead. I want to believe you, Garth, I really do.” Tom lied, already having the termination email template on his screen. “But, you have to give me more to work with. Why shouldn’t we fire you?”

“Because I’m a great employee.” Garth thought that would be obvious. What other answer was he going to give in this situation?

“You’re a good employee. Not great. Great is reserved for people like myself.” Tom smirked, always happy to fluff his own feathers. The man’s arms crossing against his chest as he leaned into his chair, demonstrating the proper authority that comes with a position like his own.

Garth thought about that. “Didn’t you come to work late last Tuesday?”

That smirk shattered as Tom shifted forward, scowling. “I wasn’t aware I was being monitored by you. For your information, I had a terrible emergency that morning.” Tom wouldn’t say what that emergency was, not wanting to admit he got stuck waiting for fresh hash browns in a drive through.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just thinking that we’re kind of similar. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Similar? Tom fumed at the comparison, tapping away at his keyboard, writing Garth’s name into the empty boxes on his template. “Now that I think about it. Dying would void your employment contract. You wouldn’t even be able to sue us.”

“You can’t do that! I’m telling you, I died. I was even in the work parking lot when it happened. You can check the footage. Some idiot was speeding through the parking lot and they ran me over.”

Tom stopped typing, pausing. “Our car park?” Now he was nervous. A death at their workplace? One that had gotten news coverage? He sweated, wiping his forehead. “We… have signs around the parking lot telling people to slow down. We also have numerous safe crossing areas. You only have yourself to blame.”

Garth thought about the accident. He didn’t remember seeing any signs or crossings. He didn’t remember seeing much of anything except the hood of a car. “I don’t think there were any. I was in the old bit. The one that leads to the underground elevator.”

“Ah, one moment.” Tom hurriedly emailed Jenny, who organized their safety and upkeep, asking her to let him know if they had placed any signage or crossings on the underground parking level. When Jenny said they were doing that next week, Tom panicked. “Ah, why are we even having this discussion? Of course you’re not fired. We couldn’t fire a person for dying.”

Garth didn’t expect the sudden attitude shift, but was happy to hear he wasn’t on the chopping block. “You mean it? That’s great news. I thought I was a goner.” Garth offered his hand to Tom, who quickly shook it. “Yes. Actually, I think a promotion might be in order. To compensate you for your troubles. A great employee should be rewarded.”

“I thought you said I was only a good employee?”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise promotion.”

“That makes sense. I think?” Garth wasn’t born yesterday, so he knew what was going on. Even if he hadn’t intended to sue them, the thought of being sued was enough to deter them from firing him. After all, he didn’t want anyone looking too deeply into this either. It was hard enough trying to convince doctors you magically came back from the dead. You didn’t want lawyers also looking into your strange medical records.

“A ton of sense. Now, why don’t you get back to work? I’ll send the paperwork through for your promotion.”

“That sounds great.” Before Garth left, Tom reached over the desk, tapping his shoulder. “Yes?”

“I also might need you to make an address to whatever news company reported on the accident. Let them know it wasn’t as bad as initially reported. Just so we can sweep this whole mess under the rug,” Tom said, begging him to agree. The sooner they covered this up, the better it would be for them all.

“Sure. Bye Tom.”

“Bye Mr. Backlor.” Tom said, slouching in his chair as the man left. Glad he got that ticking lawsuit bomb out of his office. He just hoped he had diffused it, not wanting his own job to get caught in the blast if it went off.

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter 8

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), omorashi/piss kink, golden showers, swearing, masturbation, dirty talk, talk of dominant/submissive experiences, literally pure smut and filth I'm so not sorry for this

More angst to come soon!

Presley

Colson and I have been making love. A lot.

I’m not complaining. I love feeling close to him. I love the way I can feel all his love pouring out when we’re together. I’m satisfied every time, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I want more. 

I think back to the first night we had anal. To the time he made me hold my piss and then let go when we were fucking. The time he dominated me. We were just getting into experimenting when we got engaged and we drifted away from exploring when it happened, falling back into the loving way we used to have sex before. Again, I love it, but Colson has opened a side of me that I didn’t know existed. And I like that side of me. But I’m still timid. I don’t even know where to start with asking Colson to try something new. 

But today, luck is on my side. I’m dropped right into a situation without having to do anything. 

I’m on the couch looking absentmindedly through some emails offering piercing jobs when the door from the garage into the house opens. I perk up. Colson is home later than expected, but to be fair, he did oversleep and had to rush to the studio. I glance at my watch. Colson and I woke up just after eight and it’s 4:30. 

I hop off the couch to greet my fiance in the kitchen. He’s grimacing as he sets his bag and phone down and I frown. “You okay?” I ask. He brushes a kiss to my lips and pushes past me.

“Yeah, just have to piss like you wouldn’t believe,” he says hastily, hurrying to the bathroom. I freeze in my tracks, remembering what we talked about last time. Next time, it’s your turn.

“Col, wait,” I call, hurrying to catch up to him. He’s in the bathroom, pulling himself from his pants as he lifts the toilet lids.

“What?” he asks, looking at me, and there’s a frantic spark in his eyes. He grips himself, squirming, and something about it turns me on.

“I don’t want you to go yet,” I say. My cheeks are flushed but I remind myself not to be embarrassed or scared. Colson is into this. He’s told me multiple times.

Colson winces. “Pres, I didn’t even have time to go when I got up this morning,” he confesses. “I ran to the studio. Had a big ass coffee and haven’t gone.”

My eyes widen. “You haven’t gone since last night?”

Colson shakes his head no and bounces on his heels a little, looking at me pleadingly. I consider for a second, but he looks way too cute, all wiggly and desperate. I smirk and his eyes widen. “Pres–”

“Hold it,” I demand. “Until you can’t.”

Colson actually whines. I’ve never heard him make that sound before and it seems to shock both of us. His cheeks redden and he clears his throat, tucking himself back into his pants. I catch a glimpse of his stomach, swollen and protruding with his need, and he doesn’t button his jeans again. He shifts uncomfortably. 

“It’s not going to take me long,” he says tightly. “So whatever you want to do, we’d better do it in the shower.”

“Oh, come on,” I say, walking closer to him. He’s tense, shaking, and a light sheen of sweat shines on his forehead. “You can hold it, can’t you?”

Colson’s eyes study mine and I can tell he’s thinking. “Pres,” he says through gritted teeth, “I last pissed at midnight when we went to bed. It’s almost five PM now. You do the math.”

He’s a little short with me, his voice taking on a snappy tone, and it’s adorable how close he is to his breaking point. But shit, when I do the math, I start to feel guilty. Midnight was almost 17 hours ago. Jesus Christ. “Col, I’m sorry baby, you can–”

“No.”

I lift a brow. “No?” I question.

Colson’s throat bobs. “No,” he says softly, jaw twitching. “Feels good.” His voice is so quiet I barely hear him. 

“What was that?” I ask with a little grin.

Colson groans, squirming before me. “I said it feels good,” he groans. “It’s that pleasure-pain shit you talked about when you did it.”

“Mm,” I reply, reaching out to cup his cock over his jeans. He hisses, hips twitching forward a little as he hardens just slightly. “Think you can fuck like this?”

“Absolutely not,” Colson croaks. “I have to piss too bad to even get hard.”

“That’s a shame,” I sigh. “Maybe you need to let out a little bit so we can fuck.”

Colson’s blue eyes go wide as he shakes his head. “There’s no way I’d be able to stop,” he admits. 

“Fine,” I say, taking his hand. “Let’s go. But as soon as you’re done, you’re fucking me.”

“Deal,” Colson says, eagerly following me upstairs to our big bathroom. I turn to face him and lift his shirt over his head. My hand slides slowly over his belly and he groans, eyes closing. I slip my hand into his boxer briefs, fingers grazing his cock, and he shivers. “Holy shit,” he croaks. He can’t keep still, circling his hips, jiggling his legs. 

As I lift my hand out of his boxers, I let my palm skim over his belly, and his eyes go huge. “Oh fuck,” he squeaks, arching his back. “We need to hurry.” 

“What’s wrong?” I pout. 

Colson’s eyes close and he shudders, wrapping his hands around my upper arms. He squeezes tightly and groans, entire body trembling. I look down, eyes widening when the front of his jeans darkens with a leak. Shit. He’s right, we need to hurry. 

I help him out of his clothes and then get out of mine, pulling my hair up. He grips his cock and eyes me, arousal darkening his eyes. “Are you gonna let me…” he starts.

I don’t say a word. I keep my eyes on his as I step into the tub and lower onto my knees, sitting on my heels. Colson groans and moves as quickly as he can to the tub, stepping in gingerly. I look up at him as he stands over me. 

Suddenly, he curses, hunching over a little as a small stream spills out, right onto my tits. I go completely still, eyes widening. This is getting real. Holy shit. “Fuck,” Colson says shakily. “You look so good, baby.”

“Cols,” I say quietly, looking up at him. 

His blue eyes are open as he looks right back at me. “Babe?”

“Claim me,” I say.

Colson’s eyes go wide and he moans as he lets go of another stream accidentally. “Fuck, I can’t hold it any longer,” he confesses, sliding his hand to the base of his cock. 

“That’s okay, baby, let it go,” I tell him.

Colson’s teeth worry his bottom lip and his thighs tremble as he tries to let go, but he’s held it for so long now that he can only release little spurts. I know it’s killing him, so I reach out and lay my hand over his belly. He hisses, saying my name urgently, but when I apply gentle pressure, he makes a sound, so raw and unintentional that it shocks me into silence. “Fuuuuck,” he growls as it bursts out of him. 

I stay completely silent, in total awe as he releases a torrent of pent up need all over me. He aims at my chest, at my belly, anywhere he can reach. Within mere seconds, I’m soaked in it. Once he’s not completely wrapped up in desperation, Colson opens his eyes and looks down at me. “Holy fuck, you look so good like that,” he rasps. He’s shaking as he finally lets go, panting. 

I’ve never seen him piss for this long, well over a minute at least. His head falls back and he lets out an almost tortured moan as it tapers off slowly. He shakes himself off and lets out a breath, slumping. “Holy fuck,” he says weakly. As soon as his bladder is empty, his cock starts to fill. Unintentionally, he starts to move his hand up and down his cock.

“Col,” I whimper, wanting him so bad but also wanting to watch him. He can’t help but touch himself, moving his hand a little quicker as he watches me. His stomach and thighs are tense and I can tell by the way his mouth hangs open that he’s already close. Holding it, claiming me, it turned him on like crazy. 

“Baby, fuck, I can’t stop,” he grunts, planting one hand on the shower wall for support. 

“Colson,” I moan, arching my back. “Come all over me, baby.”

“Fuck yes,” Col growls, hips jerking as his orgasm catches him by surprise. He comes hard, on my face, on my tits, on my tongue. I eagerly swallow it down, watching his body as he’s racked with pleasure. “Jesus Christ,” he moans when he’s done, slumping over. 

I swipe his cum off my face and lick it off my fingers. Colson’s cock twitches and he grunts softly, watching me intently. “Touch yourself,” he nearly barks. He sounds almost angry with his desire. I spread my legs and slip my hand between them, finding my pussy already wet for him. “Good girl.” I bite my lip as I circle my clit with my fingers quickly. “Did you like that? Me pissing all over you?” he growls, staring at my hand.

“Yes,” I whine, spreading my legs even more as I rub myself fast. 

“You gonna come for me? Good fucking girl,” Colson groans, dropping to his knees so he can be even closer to me. “God, I can hear how wet you are. You’re fucking perfect, Presley.” I whimper at his praises, hips jerking a little. “Don’t stop. Say my fucking name when you come.”

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds until I’m crying out his name, my head falling back in pleasure as my orgasm makes me tremble. “Holy shit,” I say weakly, finally pulling my hand away. Colson takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, tasting my release on my fingers. I shiver, whimpering as I watch him. He smirks at me and reaches behind me to turn on the shower. 

We wash up quickly and by the time we step out of the shower, Colson is all over me. Our skin is still dripping wet but he can’t help but lift me onto the counter and press between my thighs. “God, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he growls, teeth gnashing at my lip. I whimper, dizzy with desire, and shove his chest. His eyes are dark as he backs up. I hop down from the counter and walk into the bedroom. 

“Where are you going?” he asks, following me.

I glance at him over my shoulder, looking him up and down. “I wanna ride your dick. Can’t do it like I want to in the bathroom,” I say simply, and I swear, Colson’s eyes nearly go black. I hide a smirk as he crawls onto the bed, settling onto his back. “No, sit up,” I say. He watches me, not usually one to relinquish power, but he seems interested. He does as he’s told and then I climb over him. Immediately, I sink down onto his hard cock, moaning as I do. My brows knit together as the crown settles right against my already swollen g-spot. 

“God damn, baby,” Colson rasps, shifting his hips a little beneath me. I watch him, gripping onto the headboard, and then slowly, I start to rock my hips. Colson groans, letting his head fall back against the headboard with a thump. Big hands curl around my hips but he doesn’t control my movements. 

I bite my lip against a mewl. I love riding him. I love how deep I can feel him, completely impaled by his huge cock. I know it feeds his ego, too, knowing how full he fills me. I like coming on top, too, because I can fall against Colson when I do. 

Colson grabs my hair and yanks me to him, his lips brushing my ear. “Do you have any idea how sexy you looked drenched in my piss?” he purrs. “Did you like it when I claimed you?” 

I whimper, goosebumps covering my skin as my hips jerk a little. I decide suddenly that I really like when Colson is dominant: marking his claim, choking me, spanking me, telling me what to do. It’s all so hot to me. “Y-yes,” I whimper.

“Yeah, I know you did,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the double x tattoo I got behind my ear when I moved to LA. “Fuck, you’re so perfect for me.”

“Mm, daddy,” I whine, brow scrunched in pleasure as I continue to rock on his dick, abusing my g-spot so perfectly. 

“Fuck, angel,” Colson says tightly, squeezing my ass. “Mind if I take control here?”

“Please,” I squeak out, eyes closed. And then, I’m crying out as Colson grips my ass and bucks up into me, hard and fast. His cock slams into my spot with every hard thrust and I’m almost drooling with how fucking good it feels. “Colson,” I choke out. “Daddy–”

“Good fucking girl,” Colson moans, watching my face as I come undone. “You close for me? Can feel that pussy fuckin’ squeezing me.”

“S-so close, fuck, I’m gonna come, Colson,” I say frantically, digging my nails into his shoulders. 

“All over daddy’s cock, c’mon,” Colson grits out, and with one more slam of his cock, I completely come undone around him, my head going light as I squirt. “Holy fuck,” Col growls, barely waiting until I’m done before flipping me over and drawing my legs around his waist.

I whimper and squirm, sensitive from coming twice already, but it won’t be enough until I see Colson come, too. It’s the best part. So I pry my eyes open and watch as he works himself toward completion. 

“Cols,” I manage, and his eyes pop open. He looks like pure perfection right now, his cheeks ruddy and his hair messy, pupils blown as he fucks into me, desperate to make himself come. “L-love you,” I manage.

“I love you t– uhhh fuck!” Colson cries out, slamming his hips into mine. He jerks and shudders as he lets go inside of me, the most beautiful sounds falling from his pink lips. He’s shaking hard when it’s all over and I’m almost worried I pushed him too far. He collapses on top of me and curses weakly as I stroke his hair.

“You okay, baby?” I ask after a few minutes of quiet. He’s still trembling.

“Yeah. Fuck,” he rasps. “Can’t believe you made me piss my pants.”

“I didn’t!” I insist. “Not fully, at least.”

“That’s a comfort to no one but you,” he says dryly, but he smiles against my skin as he kisses my collarbone. 

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly.

“Nah, you ain’t,” Colson says, and he’s right. I just smile, completely sated, and keep stroking his damp hair. “I’m so getting you back for that.”

“Uh, no,” I protest. “That was payback for you making me pee on you.”

“You loved it,” Colson says cockily.

“I…I…no comment.”

Colson chuckles and we both whimper when his cock twitches inside me. “Alright,” he sighs, slowly dragging himself out of me. I’m so overstimulated that I whine until he’s finally out of me, and then I carefully waddle into the bathroom. Once I’m cleaned up, Colson comes in and lifts the toilet lids.

“Um, didn’t you just piss a gallon on me?” I ask.

Colson shoots me a glare. “Yeah, you fucked up my kidneys. I have to piss again,” he says, but the venom in his voice is barely there. I know how much pleasure he got from that. 

I shrug, leaning against the counter. “Yeah. You hated holding it,” I say casually. “That’s why you came as soon as you got your hand around your dick when you were done.” Colson grunts, gripping the base of his cock as his other hand presses to the wall. His brow is furrowed as he looks at me over his shoulder. “Oh, you must like being punished,” he says in his low, sexy voice, and I shiver. Fuck, will there ever be a moment I don’t want him? “Go away. I can’t focus.”

I snort. “You pissed all over me and you can’t pee in the toilet when I’m right here?”

“Presley!” Colson whines, bending his knees, and I laugh, relenting. I leave the bathroom, closing the door behind me, and crawl back into bed. 

I love when Colson dominates me, but god, I love controlling him just as much.

[logically-asexual]

One more time with feeling

summary:

Part one of this series is 'I can tell I've rotted in your brain', about Logan being slowly pushed away over the years until one day he is kicked out of Thomas's conscious mind and becomes the orange side.

This is part two, about Logan finally coming back.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

| First | Previous | Next |

words: 2630

Logan sat next to Thomas in the office, as Thomas mentally prepared to talk to his employee —not  coworker, as Logan had corrected him. 

“Repeat after me:” Logan said, “I am the boss.”

“I am the boss.” Thomas repeated. 

“It is my job to make the decisions, and it is their job to help me fulfill them.”

Thomas echoed everything his Side said. 

“Good.” Logan nodded. “Now, the purpose of your agreement with these people is for you not to overwork yourself and create more, correct?” 

“Yes.” 

“If they do something that makes you work more instead of less with no further gain or profit, the purpose is not achieved. Therefore a part of the process is wrong and must be fixed.”

“Right.” 

Thomas seemed determined for now. This was the third time they tried to fix this problem, but at every attempt Thomas chickened out and ignored Logan’s instructions. Logan could only hope it would finally work this time. 

“It is our job to make the decisions and theirs to help us with them.” Logan repeated. “What decision did we make?”

“We’re… returning the stuff they ordered and they will try to find a sponsor to make up for the money lost.”

“Correct. Now all you have to do is tell them to do it.”

Thomas nodded and stood up. 

He did it. It wasn’t as hard as he expected, the other person listened and agreed to do what Thomas told them. Logan decided to take advantage of the success and try one more thing. 

Thomas gathered the few people working in the office at the moment and asked them for feedback to their communication channels, if there was a way they would rather receive the important information from meetings they missed. A few agreed that the summaries Thomas emailed to them were fine. He didn’t miss, however, how one person in particular rolled their eyes. 

“Danny, what do you think?” Logan managed that Thomas’ tone wasn’t angry, but firm, just like a teacher’s. 

The employee shifted in their place. At least they had the decency of being embarrassed while everyone stared at them. Not so brave now, Logan thought. 

“I guess my inbox does get kind of crowded,” they muttered, “and things are easy to miss.”

“Oh, alright.” Thomas smiled. “Would it help if I sent you a text message instead?” 

The other just nodded, not looking Thomas in the eye. Logan was beaming with pride. Now they didn’t have an excuse to ignore Thomas, and everyone else here witnessed the agreement.

Thomas said goodbye to his employees and left the office for the day, leaving them to finish setting up the place for filming their new video soon. He sat in his car, with Logan in the passenger seat.

“See, that wasn’t so—“ Logan was about to remark on how well things had gone when a loud cry made him jump. “Thomas?” 

“That was horrible!” he yelled. “I am horrible!” He hit the steering wheel with the side of his closed fist. 

Logan frowned. “How can you say that? We set goals to achieve today and we did that successfully, what—“

“I am a terrible person, they’re all going to hate me. What am I going to do?” He hid his face between his hands. 

“But— But everything went according to our plan.”

“Didn’t you see their faces? I was supposed to build a good working environment and instead I abuse my power to  humiliate someone in front of their coworkers—“

“Thomas, control yourself.” 

Thomas pouted at him, but stayed quiet. 

“You’re an adult. You were behaving like one.” 

“No, I was behaving like an assho—“ Thomas stopped himself when he saw the way Logan’s eyebrows raised. “No, sorry I wasn’t trying to insult you, it’s just that… I don’t… That didn’t feel like myself at all!” 

“Well, duh, that’s predictable when you’ve repressed this side of your personality for two years, to the point of forgetting it existed!” 

“I thought that we had been over this and now you were going to help me!”

“I am helping you, but it is too hard to tell if you actually want my help, or if you’re going to keep whining every time I make a suggestion.“

“Hey don’t talk to me like that!”

Luckily for Thomas, the windows of his car were up and anyone who happened to pass by would think he was having a heated discussion over the speaker. 

“Okay nevermind just…” Thomas tried to relax as he started the car. “I don’t want to think right now, I just want to get home.”

Logan took a deep breath in. “We’re not going home yet.” 

“What?”

“We’re going to buy a work desk for your apartment.”

“What?! No! Do you know how expensive furniture is these days? And where am I going to put an entire desk? I can’t change the arrangement of the first floor, that’s where I film!” Thomas’s head was reeling, suddenly finding it hard to believe this was what his life had become. 

“It’s an investment for your work and to save us the future medical bills for the back problems you’re getting from that terrible habit you have of working on your couch or your bed.”

“And where do you suppose we get the money for that, Mr….” he didn’t have energy to think of some nickname, “Serious Adult!?”

“Perhaps you could sell some of the useless toys you have laying around the house, and that way you would also make space for the desk.” 

Logan looked so arrogant like this, Thomas thought, sitting there looking so satisfied with his own reasoning, staring straight through the windshield, his jaw set. 

In hindsight, listening to the old Logan seemed so much easier. 

A few hours later they made it back home with a list of possible desk and chair models, their brands, and prices. Thomas walked into his living room and immediately crumpled the list in his hands and threw it across the room. 

Logan sank out directly to his bedroom. He let himself fall into the bed. Then, he reached for one of the heavier books on the bedside table and lifted it above his forehead. Before he could use it to test the strength of his skull, a yellow-gloved hand got in the way. 

Janus took the book from him as Logan sat up, his hands following it.

“Devolving to your old healthy coping mechanisms, I see…” he drawled as he held the book behind his back, out of Logan’s reach. 

Logan didn’t speak, but the narrowed eyes with which he looked up at him and the redness around them told Janus everything he needed to know. His pupils seemed to shine brighter at the moment.  

“Come on.” He stretched a hand, “let’s take a break.”

Despite Logan’s current feelings of annoyance at the world, he took Janus’s hand and walked with him to their living room. 

Once there, Janus encouraged him to sit down on the couch, and pulled an… interesting object. It was a small, flat, rectangular piece of wood, with three wooden poles pointing out of it, all in a line. Several disks in different colors and sizes were placed in a pyramid, the largest disk at the base, the smallest at the top, with one of the sticks going through the center of all of them. 

Logan remembered Thomas had read something about this puzzle, the Tower of Hanoi, a few days ago. The goal was to transport the pyramid from one pole to another, moving only one disk at a time, and never placing a bigger disk on top of a smaller one. 

He thanked Janus, took the object from his hands, placed it on the coffee table, and began trying to solve it. 

Janus sat back on the couch next to him, reading. Logan experimented, moving the disks around and trying to find a system. He got frustrated a few times when he accidentally undid his progress, when his actions led him to inevitably return the disks to where they started. Eventually, though, he began to notice a pattern. Soon he was moving the disks from one pole to another swiftly, carefully keeping track of his past moves to determine the next one. 

Just as he was making the final moves, Virgil barged in. 

“Logan,” he breathed, “I need your help.”

Logan’s forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t look up from his task. 

“Roman is–”

“Don’t you see he’s busy?” Janus interrupted Virgil, also not looking up from his book as he turned the page. 

“Shut up, you slimy piece of—“ 

Seeing Virgil was about to pick a fight, Logan interrupted. “I’m sorry, Virge, I think I’ve complicated things enough for one day,” he said as he placed the final disk on top of the rest, successfully completing the puzzle. 

“You’re going to give up just like that?”

“Give up?” Logan slowly repeated, finally looking up. “Excuse me but I don’t believe you understand—“

“I understand everything and you’re such a coward!” Virgil groaned. “Of course things would get complicated! We knew that but the only way out is just getting through it.” 

“I know, Virgil, but I think the process can be postponed until tomorrow when everyone is more accessi—“

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s not going to happen. They're not going to magically become open to what you say, you have to keep insisting.” 

“It’s not that simple, I—“ He stopped, closing his eyes and drawing his eyebrows together. 

“What?!”

“I fucked up, okay?!” Logan stood. “I fucked up today as I knew and told you I would!” 

“What are you talking about? What happened?“

“I just wanted to make it clear to Roman that this fairytale he has Thomas believe he’s living in is a waste of time and energy that will lead him nowhere in life. I wanted to work with him to help Thomas because he can’t go on like this. He’s— he’s daydreaming instead of working, he’s working instead of sleeping, he’s sleeping instead of eating,—“ he began pacing around the room— “he’s got everything backwards! And then Roman just fucking dares try to insist that this is what Thomas needs and that soon enough he’ll be ‘living the life’ whatever that means—“

Virgil began following Logan around, as the other took off his glasses and gestured with them while walking in circles. “Lo…”

“No, I get it.” Sounded like a response but Logan was mostly talking to himself, “Thomas wants this unconventional lifestyle and I must support it but I can’t allow that he’s treated as if he were indestructible. But, again, it’s my fault that what should be a debate devolves into fights and a never-ending stream of childish insults coming my way; my fault and no one else’s. It’s what I should expect, after all, I can’t get one single fucking thing right—“

“Logan!” Virgil called as Logan’s grip on his glasses tightened enough to break them. 

That was enough to stop him, giving Virgil enough time to catch up and stand in front of him. He took Logan’s glasses and shook them in his hand, fixing them, before handing them back. Logan finally focused his eyes on Virgil once he put the glasses back on.  

Logan’s lips were closed in a thin line. 

“Talk to me,” Virgil said.

“I made him cry,” Logan confessed. 

Virgil stayed still in stunned silence. 

“Patton and Roman… I know they’re so emotive and I can’t keep track and be careful of every single feeling they have because I would become mad just trying to make sense of it all but… I had never made someone cry like that, all on my own. I don’t even know what it was I said. 

“Normally that would have been enough as a signal for me to distance myself from them and not come back, but Thomas kept insisting I helped him at work. I couldn’t say no. It took so much effort not to just come back here and hide. I stayed out and did the best that I could. And then that had an unfavorable ending, as well.”

Virgil frowned. “I’m sorry, but I just know that this whole thing will end sooner than you think, if we don’t give up.”

After a pause, Logan continued gingerly. “Virgil. I know you have your own experience with this issue, and there’s a lot that we can learn from it, but not everything in this case is analogous to yours.”

“And what’s different?” He sat down on the couch, and Logan followed. 

“When you appeared, you made yourself heard with great resilience, showing a more intimidating and abrasive version of yourself, which was eventually accepted as a meaningful and necessary part of Thomas as it was, in spite of the negatives, because of the positive impact you had anyway. Once accepted, you were able to decide who to be, what felt  the most comfortable for you, which was rightfully celebrated and encouraged by everyone.”

Virgil blushed slightly, surprised by the kindness with which Logan described his story. 

“In my case, well… I liked who I was before, but I don’t think anybody else did. Despite my efforts to stay that way I was forced into a new unwanted role. I’ve come to terms with the change, and I promised you I would still try to help Thomas, but…” 

Both Virgil and Janus were completely silent, focused on Logan. He refused to look at either of them. 

“… but you’re asking for me to keep changing, to keep exerting myself just to be able to hold a civil conversation. Thomas wants Logic back as it was before, not me, he wants to pretend nothing is different. If I just were myself —this new me�� out there, it would be impossible to even speak. I— I just—“ He sighed. “I’m so tired.” 

As he finished, he turned to Virgil, who could now see his eyes were not as shiny as usual, still glowing orange, but too faint, almost back to their usual brown. The bags under them obscuring his appearance even more. 

“Lo—“

“If you don’t mind,” Logan said as he stood, “I am going to my room. After everyone gets some rest I… I promise to try again.” 

He left no room for argument as he walked up the stairs. Virgil watched him quietly, only hearing Janus turn a page from his book. 

“I wish I could help him,” Virgil confessed after a pause. 

“He’ll be fine,” Janus replied, and for once Virgil thought he actually believed what he said. 

They sat in silence for a while, before Virgil spoke again. 

“You know, you could help out, too.” 

Janus didn’t acknowledge his words. 

“Thomas probably thinks being angry and assertive is selfish and that that means it’s bad. You could help show him that it’s not true.”

Janus scoffed without humor. “Since when do you think selfishness isn’t the devil?” 

Virgil bit his lip. “I guess Logan’s absence seems the most direct cause for Thomas’s trainwreck of a life, since he’s been a visible Side of him for so long, but…” He was reluctant to admit it, but he had to keep speaking now. “I know Thomas is missing you, too. Maybe he’s missing a little Remus, even, to get his blood running every once in a while.”

They both chuckled softly at the comment. It felt weird for Virgil. He hadn’t been alone in the same room as Janus for so long without a fight in years. 

He didn’t want to stay long enough to ruin it. He stood up and, in an act of bravery, he whispered, “Goodnight, Janus. I hope to see you soon,” before sinking out. 

| First | Previous | Next |

[frogtanii]

a soft jazz melody buzzed over your group’s heads as you entered craft los angeles, the pretty hanging lights casting a warm glow over your deep red suit.

the restaurant was lovely, as expected, and also very very full. scanning the dining room, you were surprised yachi had even managed to get a table at all but apparently management pulled some strings to make this all possible.

a little drop of anger pooled in your gut at the thought. the higher ups had the funds to allow the house to go to an impromptu fancy (and extremely expensive!!!) dinner but they wouldn’t give you the time of day when you were sending them letters and emails, appealing for equal pay.

“hey,” kuroo’s soft, baritone voice sounded from beside you, nearly scaring you out of your skin. “are you alright?” your first thought was to just say you were fine but dr yamada’s words rang throughout your skull, unprompted.

take a moment, assess how you feel, and only then do you share. if you don’t want to, then don’t but don’t lie either. it doesn’t do you or anyone else any good. i hope you’re actually listening brat, this is important.

you mentally rolled your eyes at the old memory. you were so combative back in highschool, never really understanding the purpose or benefits of therapy so you used to battle yamada at every turn. as time went on, his badgering and sarcastic nature pierced through your walls and the rest was pretty much history.

“yn?” a quick glance back at kuroo revealed the open concern written all over his face at your silence, his hand hovering over your shoulder as though he’d been reaching out for you but stopped himself. once he caught you looking, he quickly dropped his arm and shoved it into the pocket of his slacks while averting his eyes in embarrassment.

“sorry, i was just thinking about something negative. i’ll be okay though!” you responded with a small smile, internally cheering when the hostess came by to seat everyone before you could hear his response.

the beautiful hostess brought the group to a large table near the back, handing out the menus before telling you who your waiter was going to be and disappearing. you chose a chair near the end, swiftly flanked by atsumu and kuroo. sakusa, bokuto and oikawa took the seats across from you and everyone else filled in accordingly.

a pang of sadness shot through your heart as you watched kenma sit the furthest away from you next to yachi and osamu. you’d promised yourself that you would give him time but... how long would it take? what if he never came around? did he even want to be friends with you anymore?

your depressing thoughts were broken by the waiter entering and taking everyone’s orders. you couldn’t help but wince at all the prices on the menu ($60 steak!!!), but you took a bit of comfort in the fact it was all coming out of upper management’s wallet.

it took a moment for everyone’s courses to come out, but once they did, everyone dug in. the table would be mostly silent if it weren’t for the occasional quips from sugawara and oikawa but otherwise, a feeling of awkwardness blanketed over the group.

the blame for the uncomfortable atmosphere could very easily be attributed to meiko’s presence. she sat by yachi, clad in a lime green bodycon dress and black strappy heels, her outfit in stark contrast to everyone else’s more classy options.

when the waiter had come around earlier, she refused to order any real food, instead opting for bottomless champagne, her request causing sugawara to tense up at the opposite end of the table. before you could say anything to him, sakusa leaned over to whisper something that had him relaxing back into his seat.

you couldn’t have kept yourself from smiling if you tried.

anyway, time seemed to fly, and even under the oppressive discomfort of the room, you still managed to share a few laughs with your seat mates over the incredible food.

somewhere in between polishing off your main course and waiting for dessert, your bladder came calling your name. “hey,” you called to atsumu, his attention immediately snapping up to you in concern. “gotta go to the bathroom.” he gave you a nod and a sweet smile as you stood and maneuvered yourself to the small hallway leading to the women’s restroom.

the bathroom was silent when you entered as you quickly scurried into one of the suspiciously clean stalls to relieve yourself. a squeak signaled the door opening but whoever arrived remained at the mirror, not bothering to venture any further. you continued on your business before leaving the stall only to come face to face with...

meiko.

“oh, i was wondering when you were going to come out,” she grinned, false saccharine sweetness dripping from her words. she stood leaning against the sink counter, preventing you from washing your hands.

you barely kept yourself from rolling your eyes, moving forward to get to the sink. “wow, it’s so lovely to see you too! now, do you mind?” your patronizing tone apparently didn’t sit right with meiko because in an instant, she was on you, one of her hands wrapped around your throat.

frozen. you were frozen in place, muscles locked and unable to fight back like you knew you were capable of. somehow, this time, your fear and anxiety gripped you, keeping you still as her acrylic nails dug in and pierced your skin.

“stay away from what’s mine or this will be so, so much worse,” meiko sneered into your ear, giggling maniacally at your short, choked breaths. with you so out of commission, she dared to tighten her grip, your eyes rolling back into your head as your hands shot out to weakly fight against her hold. she studied your trembling expression for just a moment longer before letting go, allowing you to slide down to the floor as you scrambled for air.

your vision was swimming but you managed to catch meiko giving you a cheeky little wave as she exited the bathroom, the door making a loud bang as she left.

black crept up on the edges of your vision, the sheer amount of energy it took to keep yourself conscious quickly dwindling. thoughts drifted aimlessly through your head as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

did the boys even notice you were gone? did they even care? what if no one came to find you and you were left to die on the floor of this beautiful restaurant? what coffin would they pick out for your funeral? what music would they play? how many people would be in attendance? would anyone even come at alll?

at that, the darkness finally won over, dragging you down into a deep, dreamless sleep.

℗ poker face

frozen

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - :O wowieee a little bit of a wild one — i wanna hear what y’all think hehe don’t forget to feed me <333

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[jkstompers]

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 

feeling okay? 

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 

check: ◯  yes ◯ no 

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 

“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 

 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

[belmottetower]

Can I just say you're my favourite writer for the Ted Lasso fandom?? 😊🥰 Every time I see your name pop up in my email it's a delight!

I have a headcanon I wanna run by you if you'll indulge me for a moment, I'm very interested in your perspective on it 👀👀.

The reason Jamie gives for not getting a secret Santa gift doesn't make sense to me, like I could see an initial confusion if he'd never heard of it before but he should have known that he was expected to do SOMETHING, and season 2 Jamie would've asked someone if he didn't know what he was supposed to do (I love that season 2 Jamie actually asks for help, insert "y'know what that is? Growth" meme here 😭❤️). BUT I think the reason he gives is probably what he thinks other people would accept as a reason that makes sense for him, and he's just using it as a smoke screen! My personal headcanon is that he thought Santa would STAY SECRET and he didn't realize they would be giving their gifts all publicly and he's embarrassed for people to know what gift he brought. Not sure what gift it would've been, but with everyone else gifting booze I could see him being embarrassed about literally anything that wasn't booze 🤔. No one else is really talking about this but that scene just doesn't settle right in my brain. Do you have any thoughts on what gift he may have purchased in this version of events? Or do you have a different idea of what was happening there?

Sorry for the monster ask lol but I love how you write Jamie's thought process! (I know this isn't in the form of a prompt, but if you answered in mini fic format I would be positively tickled!!)

Jamie knows what Secret Santa is, of course he does. It’s just, well. He hadn’t realised they’d be giving the gifts out publicly, and now his feels way too personal. Nearly everyone else so far has handed over a bottle of booze. Moe had knitted a scarf, sure, and Colin had seemed pleased by it, but there had still been a moment of “is this weird” before he’d hugged Moe and Jamie doesn’t want that for him.

The day after the Dubai Air protest all the main papers had carried photos of their protest, mostly in the Sports section, but the Guardian had actually had it on their front page. Jamie had seen it while out buying a coffee the next day and he’d bought a copy. It had seemed important, a reminder of him doing the right thing, supporting his teammate in something that meant a lot to him.

And then he’d gotten Sam in the Secret Santa and it had seemed perfect. He’d had the front page properly framed - after checking that the Guardian was the kind of paper Sam might agree with politically - and wrapped it nicely. 

But now, well, it feels too personal to give out in front of the rest of the team. What if they think it’s weird or cheap of him? So it’s a relief when Ted finds him a bottle of whisky and they all help him wrap it. He knows they think he’s an idiot for not knowing what Secret Santa is, but better than any awkwardness in front of the team.

Sam seems chuffed by the alcohol anyway, and he sticks the bow that Keeley had added at the end to the top of his head, so Jamie makes it through without any embarrassment. At the end he hangs back and waits for the room to empty out before digging his original gift out of his cubby and tucking it into Sam’s. He doesn’t want it to go to waste, and he’s pretty sure Sam won’t guess it’s from Jamie. That done he heads out to his car ready for the drive up to Manchester and Christmas with his mum. He’s definitely gone overboard with her gifts, but she’s used to that by now, barely puts up a token protest or anything.

[generallybrontidefeelings]

Stressed

Rating: NC-17

A/N: Brought to you by this post. I'm tired and sleepy and don't want to make any decisions. The degree is an actual MS you can get from American University in DC. U of Tennessee’s anthropology dept. hosts what’s called a body farm. It's a lab for forensic pathology students. Do NOT I repeat DO NOT look up pictures.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader, Marcus Pike x you

Summary: Marcus Pike is an associate faculty member at your forensics college. You ask him to be your second reader for your thesis, even though you have a huge crush on him. Nothing is better than something, right? By the time you pass your exam, you're so pent up you could scream.

Warnings: cadaver talk, pining, age difference, some power dynamics?, annoying college talk, sex, dirty talk, a God awful metaphor curtesy of Blanche Devereaux, 39

“Take a deep breath.”

You huff in a small shallow breath. Then let it out, and take in a longer, fuller one.

“Now let it out.” You let your cheeks puff up as cool air streams past your lips. “You’ve made huge improvements, and you’ve studied hard. The paper exam will be easy, and the oral will be a cinch.”

You gulp. “I know. It’s just...pre-show jitters, you know?”

He gives you a full smile, and flips the document shut. You hand him the binder clip, accidentally brushing his fingers when you do.

"Anything else I can do for you?"

You swallow, fiddling with your paper edge. God you feel like a twelve year old. You're fucking twenty-seven and about to apply for the FBI, why are you such a sap? He’s not available. Not even remotely. He will be gone in a year, back to the Bureau. There is no reason to nurse a crush. And you curse yourself for asking a man you’re attracted to - you, idiot, idiot! - to spend more time with you. Even if it is reading your dull chapter.

"No, I have everything I need, thanks."

"Then scoot. I have to read like...thirty pages of Tanner's chapter before he gets here."

You pull your bag to your shoulder. "you're not going to get that far," you scoff. The tensing in your shoulders relaxes a little when you stand to leave.

"We'll see," he says. He opens the door of his office for you. You glance back once more, and he's still in the doorway watching you go. "See you tomorrow."

"See you." Your mind swirls back and forth between thoughts of Mr. Pike, your thesis, Pike, your oral defence, your paper exam in two days, Marcus crossing his ankles in his reading chair. And you walk. Straight ahead, not looking back. But when you get to the door handle you turn around. And he's still there. Watching.

You've never been so stressed in your life.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You met Marcus Pike on a muggy afternoon in August deep in the heart of Tennessee. The air warped off the pavement as you drove together to the School of Anthropology to visit your cadaver lying relaxed and prostrate in the middle of a fenced field. The air is already warm, then lightning flashes in the clouds to your right, and plopping rain drops scatter across the lawn, and dampens A-0017’s second hand suit. His raisinette hands lie against the grass almost like he’s communing with the earth. You watched the water hit his face, and permanently closed eyelids, and shaved head.

You had no business being so fidgety while kneeling next to a cadaver. Agent Marcus Pike and the facility director chat a couple feet away, leaving you to your business with A-0017. Pike had never been to the school’s mysterious forensics lab, even though he had plenty of time to when he was earning his own masters. That’s what he said in his email to you three weeks earlier. He’d heard a first-year student was running a fibrous material experiment and asked to tag along. And you said yes. Why not? He was faculty. It wasn’t unheard of. His email was so polite too, letting you know if you weren’t comfortable he understood. Pike. The name rattled a memory somewhere. So you emailed him back, and the next morning he sent you his itinerary: he would meet you in Tennessee. He’d even pay for the rental car.

You sent your advisor a quick text to ask if he was ‘crazy.’ She’d sent back the laughing emoji. No, she said, Marcus Pike isn’t a crazy. You’ll like him.

You did like him. He was waiting for you at the Hertz desk, and heat licked up your skin when you realized - he was striking. He was the type of man you’d make eyes at in a bar without any hope of even getting a number. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he had a softness brought on by a light scruff that didn’t hide his dimples. You barely registered that he was apologizing for not getting to introduce himself before flying out, but promised he was who he said he was. Even pulled out his credentials.

“Bureau?” you said to his badge. “I thought you were an associate professor?” You want to smack yourself.

Oh, “I am,” he replied. He dug in his wallet and pulled out a campus ID that matched yours. “I’m taking an interim year. I thought teaching would be a nice way to ease into DC life.”

Now he was here, sweating under the storm clouds while watching you unbutton A-0017’s shirt, and half listening to the director tell him all about how they kept the lawn looking green despite, ahem, fluids. You sternly told A-0017 to be on their best behavior while you pulled their shirt back to examine some fiber swatches stapled to his rubbery chest.

On the flight back Pike asked you all about your thesis plans. You stuttered as you began. He waited, patient. You were writing on how the FBI could contribute to cultural repatriation efforts internationally by returning art pieces. Do you know what it could do to boost scholarly opportunities? The doors it could open! Why put it in cold storage when it could revitalize movements? Art breathes, after all. You were exhausted by the time the plane landed. Both from answering questions, and from keeping a steadily building tension under wraps. You hoped he didn’t notice how you crossed your legs.

“I’d love to read it.” He handed your backpack down from the overhead bin.

“Maybe you should be my second reader.” You got serious when his face perked up. “I still need one.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

That was nine months ago.

Your exams are in a week, and instead of thinking about preparing, all you can think of is that once everything is turned in, you probably won’t see Marcus again. He’s been your anchor these last months, and you’ve gotten used to his solid presence and encouraging platitudes. You cup your hot cheeks because it’s a dirty thought.

He lets you work in his office for a couple hours a week every week. The crammed little space is tight quarters, but he makes room for your laptop anyway. Sometimes you worked together heads bent for full time. Sometimes he read pages from your thesis, and you help him grade some papers from his first-year art history course. And sometimes you drink three pm coffee together and don’t work at all. It’s your favorite time of the week. The glow his praise gives you is embarrassing. And he’s an easy companion - nope, colleague. Your heart beats and your mouth waters every time you’re fifteen feet from his office door. The cold door knob jolts you took. You harbor a secret. Keep it warm in your belly. It swirls hungrily deep in you.

But now it’s a problem. You’re so distracted. Every time you leave his office, you’re tense from want. Your body is already over-caffeinated and achy from sitting in hard library chairs so long. But you keep going. Every time an anxious heat lights up the alarms in your head your instinct is to ask him what to do. You have to rest your hands in your head and remind yourself: he isn’t your babysitter, he’s a grown man who doesn’t have boundless time to tell you what to do. You have to figure it out yourself. Even if you really just want him to tell you what this or that section needs, is the title here misleading, is it lunch time, do you think the tone here is condescending?

What do you think? What do you want it to look like?

You think you want to grab his dumb button down collars and bite his lip. You want it to look flushed and tousled and desperate. You want to ride him in his reading chair with the door locked. It just isn’t fair.

The night before your first exam you take z-quil, drink lavender tea, and read a chapter of your favorite book to relax. Your phone buzzes at nine. It’s Marcus: good luck! You’re going to do great! Well. Better take some more Z-quill now that your heart is palpitating.

You pass both tests in excellent standing - MS in International Relations: complete. Pike attends the oral exam. Your skin goes hot when he smiles at you when the committee declares you exceed expectations. He invites you for a celebratory drink in the next couple days, which means you have two days to sternly wrangle your crush back into the dirty corner she came from.

You fail miserably.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Look,” he says, setting his beer down on the glass bar counter. “I know it’s not my business, but you still look stressed out. Are your grades bothering you?”

The rim of your gin and tonic is wet with condensation from where your finger circles it. “No, they’re great.”

He bumps your shoulder with his. “Then what’s the damage? You’re jumpier than a…” he trails off thinking a good metaphor. He squints at you a little.

“A virgin at a prison rodeo?” you supply. He inhales sharply, eyes wide. “You can laugh.”

“I didn’t know you watched ‘The Golden Girls,” he says. His tone is admiring. “I was going to say jumpier than a graduate student giving their defense.” You purse your lips when he raises his eyebrows at you. “Can I help at all?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he takes another sip of his beer. The soft orange lights in the bar spill around his jaw and throat, they flicker in his irises. His face in three quarter profile is august. You’re utterly exhausted from the polite ‘student mentor’ dance you’ve had to do for months while keeping your desire at bay. And more than that, you didn’t want to answer. You wanted to show him and let him decide. The sultry washboard and piano music give you that last boost.

You make sure he’s watching you, then you slowly reach out and wrap your fingers around his wrist.

Then you wait.

Marcus pauses from lifting his beer bottle, eyes glued to your hand on his wrist. It’s petite against him. He stares at your baby blue fingernails pairing beautifully with his Stirling watch - and he feels himself harden.

All the skin on your body stands at attention when he meets your eyes. Everything in them tells you he wants you just as bad. There’s a hesitant curve above his eyebrow though. You get it. You were his student - he’s such a sweet man he wouldn’t even dream of using a power dynamic like that to get laid. Your breath comes in short heaves.

“The semester ended thirty-six minutes ago,” you say over the music. He takes a deep breath. You aren’t his student anymore. Not according to the school, anyway.

You want him to decide. If he doesn’t, you’ll go home and fall apart under your fingertips thinking about how hot it would have been to lift your dress and sit on his cock while wearing your thigh highs.

“Do you want to leave?” You nod, resisting the urge to bite your lip.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Marcus’s apartment is homey. Streetlights flood the floor of the living room through the street facing windows. You turn this way and that to inspect the dark areas that look like bookshelves while he hangs up your coat. You squeeze your hands at your sides, because this is happening. You’re in his house. The hardwood floor is cold under your stocking feet.

You jump when he puts his hands on your shoulders from behind you, holding you a mere inch from his body. You bite your lip when his nose bumps into the back of your head.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You already asked me that,” you reply, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. You want so badly to tell him to tell you what to do. That you don’t want to make any decisions. Brain is worn out. That you want to please him, and not think. Oh, to be a freshmen simply sponging up information.

“I know,” he slides his hands to your biceps and turns you around. “I can check in again, can’t I? He cups your face when you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” you have to stop yourself from saying something incriminating, like mister Pike, or sir, or professor.

You clutch the front of his button down to anchor yourself when his lips brush yours. His mouth is soft. It coaxes you to open so he can dive into you, his tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you respond by pressing into him. You stay pliant under him, letting him lead. Your legs feel on the verge of collapse when you break away. You can’t stand it anymore.

“I want to suck your cock.”

Both of you freeze. For a second you wonder if you’ve given him a heart attack. But you watched his thighs on the car ride back and couldn’t stop thinking about kneeling between them. Your mouth waters. Marcus can’t breathe. He’s straining against his zipper. After your declaration he wants it too.

“Okay, honey,” he breathes. He brushes your ear with his thumb. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do that.”

He tries to draw you backward toward his room where he can turn on a lamp and properly pay tribute to your body, but you pull him back. You tug him to his mid-century armchair - he has the twin to it in his office. His mouth goes dry. You have to know. He looks into your face, and from the way you’ve averted your eyes, you know.

“Please?” you say. It sounds like a sob.

From this close you can smell the vanilla and bergamot of his soap. He sits, waiting for you. When you don’t move he holds his hand out for you to take.

“Come here, honey,” he draws you close. The top of your dress swings a little and he groans when he sees the break of your dress to what he thought were tights. Marcus studies your face in the second hand street light - your mouth parted, your eyes blown wide. Your hand in his is hot. “Hey, if this is overwhelming, or not what you want-”

“It is,” you correct him.

“Tell me what’s wrong then,” he requests. You feel pained. If you don’t say it now you never will.

“Tell me what to do.” Your head aches from the stress of carrying it for so long. “I’ve had to make my own decisions for months, and I don’t want to anymore. Just - for five minutes-” you bring your hands to your cheeks and press them against your hot skin. You watch as he realizes what you want. He nods in slow motion.

“Okay,” he says. “Kneel for me.” He gets even harder when you sink to your knees. Your hands rest in your lap. Waiting. He can’t believe this is happening. Thank goodness he’s going back to the Bureau in three months. He couldn’t face the other faculty - fuck, your advisor - after this. Leaning forward he cups your chin and kisses you. You squeeze your thighs together. He kisses your ear and says lowly, “take my cock out, honey. I want you to suck me off.”

When you take him in your mouth as far as you can, you look into his face. His mouth has fallen open. His ears have turned red from flushing. It’s indescribable. It makes your mouth water further around his hard length. It’s heavy on your tongue. You move up and down his shaft leisurely, trying to savor it. Letting saliva run down onto his skin as your tongue works the spongy head. You reach up to work the base with your hand when he tells you ‘no’.

“Just your mouth.” Fuck. You moan around him as a ripple pulls from deep in your core. The vibrations of you moaning make him jolt and heave. For a few moments he apologies while you breathe deeply, then resume. You take a mouthful of him. It’s feasting. It’s mindless.

His fingers brush the side of your face, and tenderly cups the back of your head. You want to make him understand this is what you want. So you slide down as far as you can comfortably, and wait. Swallowing thickly around his length

“Fuck, honey,” he groans. He gets it, taking both hands and moving your head the pace he wants. You can tell he hasn’t been asked for this often. Maybe ever. You close your eyes and just feel. His cock filling your mouth. Aches forming around your jaw. Tears leaking out of your eyes from your concentration. Your pussy wetting through your underwear. Marcus pulling your hair. You swallow hard, then he stops. And pushes you off.

You whine in protest.

“I hear you, honey,” he says softly. His voice is hoarse. “Another time. I want you to unwind right now.” Your pussy clenches.

He takes you back to his bedroom and helps you undress. He lifts your dress over your head, and kneels to help you out of your thigh highs. One day, if you’ll let him, he’ll fuck you with them on, but he likes to see all of a woman the first time he does anything to her. He kisses the bit of skin above the waistband of your panties before standing to kiss your lips. Your help him push them down your hips until they fall to your ankles. The soft gasp he lets out at the sight of your underwear and bare body is nothing short of gluttonous.

“Lay down.”

He strips while you watch. He does it without taking his eyes off of you. There’s hunger in them. This man has an appetite, you know it. The fabric rustles pleasantly between the sound of both of you breathing. Far away, ambulance sirens blare in another neighborhood, but here in his apartment the wet sound of cars passing in the rainy street are the closest accompaniment.

“I want to touch you here,” he tells you, palming your sex and making you squeak. It’s so forward.

“Do it,” you breathe, and part your legs further for him. He leans in and kisses your temple, murmuring ‘good girl’ and you swear you could black out.

You’re already so wet when his fingers part your folds to greet the new territory. “Did sucking my cock get you wet?” He sounds amazed. He tastes one fingertip before putting it back to tease your folds. “I wonder how wet you would be just holding it in your mouth while you read.”

“Oh-” a ripple works down your spine. He smirks. The tip of his finger brushes just inside your lips to tease your entrance.

“I’m going to put my fingers in you. You,” he pauses to kiss your cheek, “relax. You earned it.” He rubs his nose up and down yours, and you nudge him back just as he slips one long finger into you. You’re glad he’s being sweet like this. It’s the perfect blend of firmness and care. You want him to dominate you one someday, maybe, but right here and now, the combination of his low voice and steady fingers is ideal. Marcus kisses your cheek and mouth as he works his finger in and out of you. It’s thick and reaches further than you ever could. You spread your legs even further to tell him, more.

Without removing his hand he moves down your body to lick your clit. He sucks and flicks it as he coaxes more wetness out of your leaking cunt. Carefully he pulls the finger out and presses his wet hand to the inside of your thigh to keep you open. He laps into you, covering the muscles with lubricant because you’re going to need it. You see his face just as he decides you’re ready; it’s contemplative, like he’s concentrating. Then he slides two fingers deep into you.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so fucking good,” your voice crescendos. You reach for his shoulder as he comes up to lie beside you. His skin is warm under your palm. You buck your hips looking for something else, seeking, wanting-

“Stay still.” You still immediately. “Just feel it, baby. I want you to be ready for me.” You know what he means. His cock is thick and smearing against your hip. He was big in your mouth, he’s going to be big while pushing into you. His fingers keep moving while he kisses the tips of your nipples. When he takes one between his teeth and tugs you break. Your mouth opens, and your legs clamp reflexively around his wrist. Your pussy gushes around his fingers - you can feel it. You can feel how his movements change from a drag as a slide. He keeps pumping. He doesn’t give up until he’s sure you’ve felt every aftershock. He’d love to take his time and work a third in one day - if he can - but tonight, he wants to move on. After you swallowed his cock in his sitting room chair he’s been thinking of rewarding you.

You feel him slip his fingers out, and roll away to the nightstand. He looks back at you, and his eyes soften a little before he asks, “do you want me to use a condom?”

“No,” you say and reach for his bicep to pull him back toward you. He comes willingly. “I have an IUD. And I’m clean.” He smiles, flinging the packet over his shoulder. It makes you giggle, but it sounds hysterical to your ears. You watch him reach down and pump his cock with the hand that was just inside you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Look at me,” he orders. Your eyes snap open. Marcus crashes his lips on yours. The hand not dripping from your cunt cups the back of your head. “I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”

His blunt head breaks into you, you lose all thought. He sinks further in, until you’re squirming on his length because he’s stretching you. You suck air in and will your body will stay still like he suggested for his fingers. You look into Marcus’s eyes the whole time, trying to tell him how good he feels. You can’t make the words leave your throat. He pulls your head to him, kisses your mouth until you compose yourself and lie still. Then he gets to work. The breadth of him stills you anew. For the first time in months you fully relax, hardly making a sound as he thrusts steadily. You stare into Marcus’s eyes while your mouth falls open as he slides into you, and listen to the wet sounds of your pussy and the bed frame creaking.

Then he starts talking.

“Do you know how good you look in those blue trousers? I want to grab your ass every time you wear them,” he rumbles. His pace picks up a hair, and he feels harder in you somehow. He drops to his forearm. “I love watching it when you walk out of my office.” You knew it. “And that damn cardigan you never wear a shirt under? Those buttons slip right open, don’t they?” He punctuates it with a deep thrust that makes you squeak. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Wear it over for dinner. I’ll bite your tits through it.”

He fucks into you harder, sending shivers up your spine with every thrust. It moves you up the bed until you have to reach a hand up and press back against the headboard. You clutch him with the other, looping around his shoulder to feel the muscles in his arms pull and tug as he moves in you, working you up to another release Soon enough, the coil in your belly tightens and he reaches to worry your clit with deft fingers. His eyes never leave you. You think this man could make the hardest fuck feel like making love.

“I need more,” you tell him. You’re too embarrassed to ask for what you want. A tear leaks out of your eye because his thickness is so good, but you want something else too. You always underestimate him. He grins because he knows - he’s a detective. He figured it out. He leans down to rest his forehead on your temple.

“You’re doing so well,” he says. You arch up into him, your breasts brush his chest. “Your wet pussy is so sweet. It’s taking me so well. Are you gonna be respectful? Gonna listen?” You have to hold your breath as your hips tense. “Be good and come on my cock.” Oh fuck. “Say it.”

Your voice is wet with joy. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl.”

Sparks lick up your back and through your cunt, forcing Marcus deeper into when you lift your lips. He slows to let you enjoy all your release. He kisses your neck, your jaw, your lips. Then when he hears your content sigh, he buries his face in your neck and chases his own release. He comes with an accompanying rumble from deep in his chest. You moan in return and lift your lips to catch him as he slumps, barely holding his weight off of you.

Water runs in the washroom as you tug the sheets back. The light clicks off, and Marcus appears with a washcloth. His dimple appears when you lean back and let him clean your tender flesh. He sits on the edge of the bed next to your hips, running his knuckles on the soft side of your breast.

“Stay the night,” says. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”

“Hm,” you say, mock contemplative. You run your fingers down his chest. He preens under the affection. “I will. I feel really good.” Your cheeks tingle at the admission. He smiles wide and bright.

He comes back from putting the cloth in the hamper. You roll so he can run his hands the length of your side

“Thank you,” you murmur. He lifts his face from where he’s been peppering your waist with kisses. His brow is furrowed in amused confusion. “For being good to me. For caring about what happened to me.” You’ll tell him the horror stories your friends have from their college another time.

He sighs and cups your cheek. “I like doing it. You’re bright. Supporting you is a privilege. Especially when I know that brain is going to put us all to shame one day.” You could cry.

“I’ve liked you since the body farm,” you admit. He wrinkles his nose. “I know. Not very romantic.”

“I liked you since you thought my campus ID was more official than my FBI badge.”

“I didn’t think that!”

“Get some sleep,” he says. A wicked glint comes to his eye. “I am going to wear you out before lunch.” You wiggle to get comfortable in the sheets and he curls over your back to hold you to his chest.

Orange light peeks through the gap in his blackout drapes. You eye him over your shoulder then settle into the pillow. All the tension in your shoulders is gone.

part 2

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 9}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: SURPRISE. Enjoy this chapter a day early. I had my days wrong and legit thought it was Thursday, but since it was ready…. Y’all get to enjoy the spoils of my frazzled brain. 😘

Nesta waited with Nyx in the waiting room of the pediatric office.

His rash didn’t seem to be bothering him much, but she wanted to get ahead of it before it became a problem. He was absolutely enamored with the TV playing a bright children’s show in the corner, and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at him as she checked her email.

The usual stuff greeted her, some open catering order invoices for the restaurant, a few wayward resumes from high school kids that had managed to get her personal email, and, of course, spam.

“Nyx?”

Nesta’s head shot up, and Nyx began looking around, wondering who had called his name. Nesta was instantly on her feet, pushing Nyx’s stroller toward the door that the nurse held open.

She smiled. “Hello, Nyx.”

Nyx babbled in greeting.

The nurse chuckled. “Such a cute little guy. You’re Nesta, I assume?”

“I am,” Nesta confirmed. “I’ve not been here before. It’s a nice office.”

The small talk went on. Nesta had never been a fan of small talk, of polite pleasantries.

It just made her feel awkward.

Nyx didn’t seem to mind. He just kept babbling and babbling and babbling, without a care in the world.

The nurse led them into a room and she checked Nyx’s height and weight before telling them that the doctor would be there shortly.

Nesta had picked Nyx up, looking around at all the educational posters on the walls, when a quick knock sounded on the door and a man cracked open the door.

Nesta blinked once as he stepped inside, not expecting the tall, muscled man that appeared in front of her.

“You must be Nesta,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Kamaras.”

This man was Nyx’s pediatrician? She had known that Nyx’s doctor was male, Feyre had mentioned him in some stories a few times, but Nesta had always pictured an elderly man.

Not this sculpted, handsome man, who could easily graced the cover of one of the ridiculous smutty books she kept well hidden in her bedroom.

She shook his hand, finally remembering how to speak. “Yes, I am, it’s nice to meet you.”

Very nice to meet you, she added in her head.

His face sombered. “I was very sorry to hear about Rhys and Feyre. They were great people.”

And just like that, Nesta was back on earth, holding her sister’s son in her arms, standing where her sister should have been. She tried to keep her smiling from dimming, but she cleared her throat. “Thank you. It’s…been an adjustment.”

As if they both remembered why they were here, Dr. Karamas blinked and said, “Yes, Nyx, right. You told the nurse he has a rash of some sort?”

“It’s just a diaper rash but it seems to be getting infected,” Nesta explained. “I’ve tried a few different things but nothing seems to be working.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well, let’s take a look.”

Dr. Karamas took one glance and whistled. “Definitely infected. I’m going to give you a steroid cream. Put it on after every diaper change. It should clear up within the week.”

Nesta let loose a breath. “Oh, great, thank you.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled.

He had a nice smile.

He scribbled something down on his clipboard, signed it, and handed it to Nesta. “The number on the bottom is my office number. If you have any other concerns, no matter how small, give it a call.”

Nesta looked at Nyx’s prescription and the number that was beneath it, along with his name.

Balthazar Karamas.

“Thank you, Dr. Karamas,” Nesta said, and she meant it. She was still new at this, and every little medical thing concerned her.

If it wasn’t normal, she was freaking the fuck out.

“Bal, please,” he said, taking her hand again, shaking it. At the look on her face, he added, “I work with kids. They do better on a familiar name basis than with titles like doctor and mister.”

She nodded, smiling. “Bal, then.”

Nesta was getting Nyx resituated in his stroller in the waiting room, about to head back out into the bright sunlight, when she felt someone approach. She wasn’t expecting to find Balthazar standing a few feet away. She quickly checked the stroller, making sure she had her purse, the diaper bag, and, of course, Nyx himself. “Did I forget something?” She asked, finding everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he said, pausing in front of her. “I just…can’t shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

It was strange, since Nesta felt the same way.

“You’re not Illyrian,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, nor was it rude. Just an assumption. She only knew of a few other Illyrians in the area, and Balthazar definitely had the same coloring as Cassian and Az. And Rhys used to have. She, pale skinned and blue eyed, certainly did not.

“I’m not,” she said, at last.

Bal chuckled.

That smile, yet again, had her toes curling.

“Interesting,” he said, that smile remaining. “Well, maybe we can figure out just where we’ve run into each other before...over lunch this weekend?”

Nesta blinked. A date?

“Not a date,” he said, quickly, reading her mind. “I would never ask the aunt of my patient on a date. That would be incredibly unprofessional.” Nesta laughed. “Just…two acquaintances figuring out where they were previously acquainted.”

“Lunch sounds nice,” Nesta said, unable to shake her own smile. “Saturday, then?”

“Saturday,” Bal agreed.

They set up a time and place and then Nesta was out the door.

*

Cassian’s day had been as long as it was the day before. It seemed that the teenagers visiting Velaris had gotten the message from their friends that Cassian’s bar was checking every single ID of every single drink that was ordered. So instead of being slammed and busy and frustrated the whole day, he had been bored out of his mind.

He’d gone through his inventory sheets twice, ordering anything they might remotely run out of in the next few weeks.

It didn’t help that Kallias had the day off, covering the evening shift tonight, leaving him alone with his thoughts all day.

And those thoughts constantly reminded him that he’d been an absolute dick to Nesta the night before.

As he drove home, he contemplated the apology he needed to make.

Although Cassian believed his intentions were typically good, apologizing wasn’t one of his strengths. He ran through what he’d say a hundred times, had come up with an unbearable amount of ways in which he could apologize, but everything he thought of wasn’t good enough.

He knew Nesta well enough to know when she would laugh in his face.

He’d come up with about fifteen different scenarios of how this could go by the time he pulled into the driveway, parking next to her little car. He took a deep breath before unlocking the front door and letting himself in.

The house was quiet, neither Nesta or Nyx were anywhere to be found. It was barely six-thirty, but he knew Nesta was taking Nyx to the doctor earlier in the day, which may have tired him out so thoroughly that he was already down for the night. A peek into his cracked bedroom door confirmed it, his little hand curled next his face as he slept.

When he finally tracked down Nesta, on the back patio, her feet propped up in a lounge chair, he definitely hadn’t expected to find her with a bottle of wine. Or what was left of it, at least.

The mostly empty bottle of wine sat next to the baby monitor.

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

Nesta’s sigh was the only acknowledgement she showed.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

She shrugged and took a sip from her glass.

“Bad day?” He continued.

She shrugged again.

“Is this the silent treatment?” He asked.

“I assume you’d know,” she said.

Cassian began rubbing his temples. “Look, Nesta-.”

“I’m a little busy if you don’t mind,” she continued. “I prefer to relax alone.”

“This is my house, too,” he said, shutting the sliding door behind him as he made his way onto the patio. “What if I want to sit out here with you?”

“Then I’d suggest continuing the silence,” she said, not looking at him, her face tilting back up to the sky, where it had been when he’d come outside.

So he sat down on a nearby lounge chair, and didn’t say a word.

Or he tried, but he didn’t last five minutes. The words that had building inside him all day needed to come out. He’d rehearsed different things he wanted to say, with reasons for why he was such an asshole, and promises to try and be better from now on. But as he looked over at her, the starlight on her face, all he could get out was, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Nesta said nothing. “About?”

“The way I acted last night,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the lawn. “It was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, draining her glass.

Cassian’s eyes shot her direction. “I’m trying to apologize. You can at least accept my apology so we can move on.”

“Apologies mean nothing,” Nesta said, shrugging. “Words are meaningless.”

“Not mine,” Cassian argued. “I mean what I say.”

“Then you meant what you said last night?” Nesta pushed.

Cassian’s lips snapped shut and his jaw hardened. “No.”

“So, you’re a liar, then?” Nesta asked.

He groaned in frustration. “You’re infuriating.”

She didn’t deign to reply to that.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was an asshole last night. I was…embarrassed about how you found me the night before. I don’t… I don’t like to be seen like that.” He paused, but then he held a hand out in between them. “Not- not that that happens often. I mean, I don’t make a habit of having emotional breakdowns.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.

He cleared his throat again, remembering little things he had felt badly about through the day. “Nesta, I’m sorry I acted like an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate the dinner you made me. I was rude as hell and you did nothing to deserve it.”

After a second, she glanced away, out over the pool. He figured she wasn’t going to reply, and he stood, heading back for the back door.

He had slid the door open and was halfway inside when she said, “If you’re hungry, I made lasagna for dinner. It should still be warm on the stove.”

He turned back and found a hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks, Nes.”

*

A continuation of his apology, Cassian had told Nesta he'd be on baby duty for the rest of the night, waking Nyx up for his bottle, granting her leave to do whatever she wanted. She elected to finish off the bottle of wine, open another, and relax in the bathtub with a book.

The book of choice was definitely not appropriate to read in front of Nyx.

Or Cassian, for that matter.

She had appreciated his apology, even though a part of her still wanted to be pissed. There were very few things that agitated her more than male bravado, and Cassian was the spitting image of it. Embarrassed because he was emotional? Please. Get the fuck over it.

Then again, she could say that all day, but in honesty, if the positions were reversed, she would have reacted very, very similarly.

If not worse.

Nesta had always felt too much, far more than either of her sisters. It wasn’t like they were robots, of course. Elain had a bigger heart than anyone Nesta had ever known, and Feyre had been a light to be around.

But, Nesta…

She felt it all, and she felt it far too deeply. She had learned long ago to shut those emotions off, to let them go, to not let her emotions show. They could just be used as a weakness.

And she found life worked better that way.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

Nesta sat up straight, even though the door was locked, in a sudden panic over the fact that she was nude and reading smut.

“Yeah?”

“Nyx is going to bed,” he said. “Just thought you’d want to say goodnight.”

“I- Ah- Just a minute,” she called, setting the book down and reaching down to grab for her towel. She was out and damn near opened the door in just her towel again, but remembered their agreed upon rules. She snatched her robe, wrapping it around herself, towel and all.

She opened the door, Cassian standing just by her bed, and Nyx had his head resting on his shoulder, rubbing his little eyes.

The image was so pure and innocent that Nesta couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps towards them, reaching out to brush her fingers down Nyx’s soft cheek. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” she breathed, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

She regretted it almost immediately, as bringing herself that close in Nyx also inadvertently brought her to Cassian. His heady, nutmeg-and-campfire scent enveloping her, reminding her of the morning she’d come downstairs and found him as naked as she was now. She stepped back quickly, clearing her throat. “And goodnight to you, Cassian,” she murmured. She pointed back behind her towards the bathtub, towards her book, and said, “I’m going to read a little longer and then go to bed myself.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Nes.”

The nickname didn’t bother her as much as it previously had, she realized as he made his way back out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

She didn’t let herself think about that, did her best not to think about him, as she sunk back into the warm water.

*

Nyx had gone down easily for Cassian, for the first time ever, thanks to the frozen toy he’d gnawed on to relieve the pain of his incoming tooth. He’d decided he deserved a treat, too, after that, and had sat down to watch the hockey game, a beer in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the front door.

Cassian paused, glancing down at his watch, seeing that it was pushing nine o’clock. He stood, after a second knock sounded, making his way to the door. He opened it to find a woman dressed in a suit on the other side. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Nazari, I assume?” She asked, extending her hand.

He took it, on instinct, shaking it, but he blinked. He repeated, “Yeah… Can I help you?”

Her brows twitched together. “My name is Alis Birch. I’m with social services.”

Cassian continued to shake her hand, staring.

“The courts told you we’d be making random visits to check in on Nyx,” she continued.

Oh, fuck, Cassian thought. Oh, fucking hell.

They’d completely forgotten about those random visits, in the past few weeks they’d been doing this, distracted by getting used to not only being parents, but getting used to each other as well.

“I see,” Cassian said, nodding. “I… I’ll…be right back.”

“I’d like to come in-.”

Cassian shut the door, quickly set his beer on the table in the entryway, and hauled ass upstairs.

He threw open the door to Nesta’s bedroom, only to found it empty, so he continued on, throwing open the bathroom door.

Where Nesta was still in the tub, completely nude, a book in hand, one hand disappeared beneath the water. Her head was thrown back in utter ecstasy.

Until Cassian barged in, anyway.

“Shit!” he yelled, just as Nesta gasped and sent the water sloshing out of the tub, over the porcelain edges.

Cassian quickly shut the door behind him, closing them into the bathroom together, and put his face in his hands. “Sorry!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled, and he could hear her pulling the plug.

“It’s important, I swear,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands.

“If the house isn’t on fire or Nyx isn’t dying, it’s not important,” she cried, ducking behind the walls of the tub.

“It’s pretty fucking important,” he said, turning to give her a semblance of privacy. He heard her stand up, water moving and quiet dripping, before her feet landed on the rug outside the tub. “The social worker is here.”

She froze and he dared a look back at her. Thankfully, she was wrapped in her towel again, one arm pushed through her robe. “The social worker is here? Now?” He nodded, and she looked at the nearly empty bottle of wine next to the glass on the small table by the tub. It was the second one she’d had that night. “But it’s late,” she protested.

“It’s a random, surprise visit,” he replied. “I left her outside, but-.”

“You didn’t let her in?” Nesta demanded, eyes widening. “Cauldron, Cass, that makes us look so guilty.”

He blinked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “But it doesn’t make us look good.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to come up here and find you doing that.” He gestured to the tub.

Nesta’s cheeks heated. He figured his own were going to permanently be the shade of red they were now.

No, that was the last thing he ever expected to catch Nesta doing.

“Just… Go let her in and stall her while I get dressed,” she sighed, crossing her arms, waiting for him to leave.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded, and hurried back down the stairs. When he reopened the front door, Alis Birch stood there. Her expression was hard, intimidating.

Cassian could feel himself sweat.

He prayed that Nesta somehow sobered up and got the fuck downstairs, because there was no way in hell he could do this without her.

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them. 

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?” 

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself. 

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts. 

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar. 

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep. 

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing. 

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like. 

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift. 

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu. 

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

.

.

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taglist: @honestly-shite​ @booksarekindaneat​ @wonderless-screwup​ @pinkninja200​ @captain-jebi​ @ajeff855​ @leias-rebelion​ 

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[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

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PART 2

The first days of Harry staying at your house were overshadowed by Maeve’s 5th grade spelling bee victory. The fake gold medal was a mainstay around her neck for a new nights at the dinner table until she eventually forgot about it.

Luckily enough, neither of your daughters seemed to be thrown too off kilter by his presence. Maeve was just young enough to not know much about who Harry was or the band he’d been in--though she was ready and willing to brag about having a celebrity around.

CeCe--in true sibling rivalry fashion--decided to draw her own medal with crayons and ask you to cut it out so she could wear it around the house. If Maeve gets one, so do I.

With potholders on and the oven door open, you apologized. “I can’t right now, honey--give mommy a few minutes and I’ll help you.”

Harry materialized at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrows raised when he said: “What do you need, CeCe?”

“I have to cut this out!” She said excitedly, running over to the drawer where the scissors were kept. She whipped them out and turned around quickly, Harry’s eyes bulging out of his head when he hurried over to grab them from her.

“I’ll cut, you watch,” he laughed, exchanging a look with you when CeCe climbed up to sit at the island. She hummed in agreement, handed over the paper and watched as he lined it up to start snipping.

“CeCe,” he said her name inquisitively. “Is CeCe short for anything?”

“Cecilia Rose L/N,” she smiled. “Pretty, right?”

“Very pretty,” he smiled. “Same last name as your mum.”

The last part of his sentence was a statement, a quick glance in your direction when you turned off the oven and shouted towards the stairs. “Maeve! Dinner’s ready!”

Your call went unanswered into the big house--you had no clue where she was or if she’d heard you. When Harry finished cutting out the paper medal, he handed it to CeCe who beamed with pride and put it around her neck.

Hands on your hips, “CeCe, will you please find your sister and tell her dinner is ready?”

She took one big breath and then screamed, “MAEVE!”

Both you and Harry flinched at the noise but laughed. She held onto Harry’s arm when she hopped down from the stool, shaking her head in disappointment. “Good god that girl,” she huffed, heading to climb the stairs when she yelled again: Maeve!!!! Dinner!!!!

“She’s a handful tonight,” you said, almost feeling guilty as her footsteps stomped on the floor overhead. “Thank you for that, though,” you said, motioning to the scissors in his hand. “Want a glass of wine?”

“S’not against the rules?” He teased.

When you shot him a look, he smirked and let out a laugh. “I’ll gladly take one. It’s fine, though. She was ready to stab someone flinging the scissors around like that.”

“They just had scissor safety in art class not too long ago.” You told him, pulling the cork from an already open bottle of red. “Sometimes I think she barely listens to anyone--she just does her own thing.”

“Not the worst way to be,” he smiled, picked up the glass when you slid it over on the granite. An awkward beat when he took a sip, smiled in your direction when you did the same. You could hear Maeve and CeCe fighting upstairs, offered him another guilty smile, but then he asked: “do you plan on changing your name?”

“My last name?”

“Yeah--L/N is your married name, right?”

It felt a bit nosy, a bit intrusive for the fourth night he was sleeping under your roof. You shrugged your shoulders casually, unsure how to answer. “Just haven’t gotten to it.”

He’d been quiet so far, out most of the day once the girls were gone for school and he’d return before dinner. Kept to himself--or at least out of the way--and was always helpful when he could be. Bringing groceries in? He carried a few. Needed a hand with clearing plates after dinner? He would gladly help.

Maeve and CeCe came rushing downstairs and were more willing to do the gratitude thing than they usually were, forks in hand when Maeve turned to you. “Oh, by the way, Auntie Shelli is taking us out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“She is?” You smiled at Maeve. “I haven’t heard about that.”

“She promised last week, she said Friday.”

“Okay, well I can check with her.”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” Maeve asked.

“Not a thing,” you said, shaking your head. You’d been looking forward to it all week--maybe a bath and a glass of wine, maybe even a movie if you were feeling adventurous. Zoey was typically after you to do something: dinner, come hold Benny for an hour while she took a shower. You were totally up for helping a friend, but it’d been a minute since you had some me-time and if Jeff’s mom had already offered to babysit, you weren’t going to say no.

CeCe turned to Harry excitedly. “What are you doing tomorrow night? Are you coming to dinner?”

He smiled in her direction but shook his head. “I’m actually going over to a friend’s house.”

“What friend?”

“CeCe,” you laughed, embarrassed by her prying. “He doesn’t have to run everything by you, you know.”

“I know,” she said simply as she shrugged her shoulders innocently. “Just thought maybe it was one of my friends. I don’t know if we have the same friends.”

Harry laughed at this and smiled when you rolled your eyes. “I don’t think you know her.”

You watched Harry for a second, wondered if it was a girlfriend or something of the sort--Jeff hadn’t mentioned anything like that. Why couldn’t he stay there, with that friend?

“Well you should come with us and Auntie Shelli one day,” Maeve said. “We usually get ice cream and she lets us get a bunch of toppings and she doesn’t even care if we’ve had dinner yet.”

You let out a short laugh, the details of their time with family members always slipped out when you least expected it. “He’s busy, girls, remember?”

Harry shrugged, “we could get ice cream soon.”

You looked up at him, forked into a bite of dinner and said quietly: you don’t have to.

He didn’t--Harry didn’t owe you or your daughters anything except common decency and kindness. Helping you clean up after dinner or bring in the groceries was enough of a repayment for a guest room and his own bathroom.

“Maybe next week?” He ignored your comment and smiled at the girls.

“Next week!” CeCe chirped back, brushing her hair out of her face with a grin.

You figured they’d forget--swept up by the excitement of something else by the time next week rolled around and Harry would be off the hook. You smiled in his direction, apologetically and pleading, but it wasn’t until the next night that you realized he was serious.

Jeff’s mom had picked Maeve and CeCe up, you had just poured a glass of wine and went to sit in your office to go over any unread emails when he knocked on the door.

“Hey,” he offered a smile, leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you turned to see him, unsure what he wanted or why he was popping in. “What’s up?”

“Uh, just wanted to let you know that my plans fell through--so, I’m just gonna be home--here I mean.”

His correction was quick, a subtle misstep through words.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, nodded slowly as you took in the information. He’d be here--in your house and just hanging out. While you had planned for a quiet night, having one other person somewhere in the house wouldn’t kill you, right? Maybe he’d lock himself away in his room and leave you to your emails, then you’d slip upstairs and end the night with a bath before your children returned with a sugar high and stories for days.

“Okay,” you said. A pause when he nodded, looked at you and then down to the floor.

“Do you want to have a drink?”

“I’ve got one,” you lifted your glass and then faltered. “Oh, together--sure, yeah.”

He held back a laugh, motioned for you to lead the way once you stood up from your desk. He trailed you back through the living room and into the kitchen, got himself a wine glass when you found the bottle you’d already started on the counter.

Was this weird? You couldn’t tell. The house was quiet and for a moment it felt like neither of you knew what to say when the only sound was the cork coming out of the bottle.

“I can venmo you for groceries, too, since m’drinking your wine.” He lifted it and poured, you watched the liquid rise in the glass until he looked up at you, waiting for a reply.

“No, it’s fine.”

“M’eating your food, drinking your wine, sleeping in your house,” he let out a laugh but put the stopper back in. “I feel like I could at least pay you back for some--” he looked down at the bottle and studied the label, “cabernet.”

You pulled out a barstool and sat, a sigh when you waved him off. “S’fine--I’m still making my way through the sorry your dad died and sorry your husband left you bottles.”

His lips pulled up at the side when yours did too. “Where do they make those grapes?”

“Somewhere far away from here,” you nodded, a long sip from your own glass when he moved to sit beside you.

“So how much did Jeff have to beg you to let me stay here?”

You looked over at him, hesitant to admit your own reluctance. You knew he and Jeff were close--you’d long been hearing stories about their nights out or big wins as a team. You’d even been invited to the release party for Harry’s first solo album, but you couldn’t find a babysitter and back then your ex couldn’t be bothered.

“I got a few pleading text messages after he first brought it up,” you smiled.

He laughed and nodded. “Well, it’s a big help. My house is over in Malibu but s’not ready yet--the only guestroom in Jeff’s house shares a wall with the master and something about that felt...weird.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “You didn’t want to hear Jeff and random women hooking up?”

“Not in the slightest,” he shook his head and bit back a smile. “Figured I’d stay with his parents for a bit but then Irv and Shelli told me they loved me but their rules are strict: their children, grandchildren, and your children. Those are their only guests.”

You nodded, it wasn’t news to you. “One time my dad stayed over after a party and Irv almost hit him with a golf club in the morning because he’d forgotten who was on the couch.”

“Yeah, so, sounds like a good idea that I’m here.” Quiet again when he moved the glass around, then he said: “you know, I would be happy to take them to ice cream or something one night--give you a minute to yourself.”

You smiled, the offer was sweet and apparently he had no idea that he’d just ruined your one chance this week to have that. “You really don’t have to--I’m sorry that they’re so...fascinated by you.”

“No, they’re great, very sweet. Maybe I can tag along when Jeff watches them next and learn the ropes.”

You nodded, reassured by his understanding that watching them would take skill. “There’s a lot to learn, they can be quite the handful sometimes.”

“Yeah?” he tilted his head. “Tell me more about them.”

The way he looked at you stirred a feeling in your chest that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was just the fact that he seemed interested enough to ask about them, he already seemed more invested than their father had been over the last year. You also would never turn down an opportunity to humble-brag about the tiny humans you'd created.

“Well, Maeve is pretty straight-edge. She’s always cared a lot about school and she likes it--which is weird, cause she didn’t get that from me and she definitely didn’t get it from my ex-husband. Like, she actually gets excited to come home and do her homework.”

He laughed, sipped from his glass and said: “Right, I’m sure she didn’t get her drive and determination from her mother who started her own successful business.”

You brushed off the compliment with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. “The weird preteen-angst thing is new, though. I have no idea if that’s because of losing my dad or losing hers,” you picked at a thread on your sleeve.

He was quiet for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say to that.

“And CeCe,” you saved him the trouble, “she’s a fireball. She is so strong-willed it actually makes me nervous about when she’s a teenager. She might actually drive to Vegas and get married or something. It’s just her world and we’re living in it.”

His dimples appeared on his cheeks when you shrugged. “Well, you’ve clearly done something right with them. Jeff's always loved being an uncle."

“I appreciate that,” you said honestly, a pause before you admitted: “My ex was never that hands on.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Is that why things ended?”

You let out a short laugh, again unsure if you were sharing too much. Would you wake up and regret the fact that you'd poured a glass of wine, and apparently your deepest secrets, all out on display?

“That, along with the fact that he was cheating on me for a good 18 months, I think.”

“Wow,” he nodded slowly, his lips pushed out in thought when he dropped your gaze. “What a dick.”

“Yeah, better I found out now than later on, I guess.”

“So that and losing your dad this year--”

“Yeah it’s been shitty,” you cut him off, another sip of your wine to avoid having to say more. He looked at your glass, now nearing empty, and reached for the bottle.

“Then you definitely deserve another one of these,” he laughed, fingers pulling the cork out again. “No wonder you got so many sympathy wine bottles.”

He poured himself another too, eventually he followed you into your dad’s old office when he asked what hid behind the mystery door on the first floor.

It was the only room you hadn’t redone yet, something about keeping his records on the book shelves and his papers on the desk felt like it kept him here. He’d chosen the green for the walls and you apologized when Harry’s eyebrows shot up at the sight.

“Great man,” you nodded, turning on a light switch, “terrible decorating taste.”

Harry nodded slowly, wine glass still in hand and a smirk fighting it’s way onto his face. “S’a bright color, yeah.”

He let out a laugh when he made eye contact with you, a disapproving look on your face when you walked over to the desk. “All these strewn about--probably some important information about you over here somewhere.”

He came over and lifted a paper. “Harry Styles is one of the most thoughtful, caring, and funny people I know.”

“Really?” You tugged at his arm to get a better view of the paper. Your dad’s handwriting was almost illegible, a date scribbled on top and another few words halfway down the small notebook page, nothing about Harry and nothing that seemed all that important.

“I hope that’s what he thought of me,” Harry smiled, his eyes flickered to where you still had a grip around his wrist. “Your nails are digging into me.”

“Sorry,” you pulled back immediately. “Sometimes I have to grab CeCe like that in the store or she runs off.”

He kept your gaze for a second, but it felt uncomfortable and made you nervous, so you cleared your throat. “Feel free to come in here and use this stuff,” you motioned over to the piano and the guitars he had in stands. “No one uses it, so--it’d be good for it to get played.”

“You don’t play anything?”

You shook your head. “No--he’d started to teach me guitar when I was young but then my mom died, just never picked it up again.”

You were thirteen when it happened, a car accident on the 405 and you didn’t go to school for weeks. Your dad had always been your main support--they divorced when you were ten--but after that you grew even closer, which is why losing him was so hard. He’d been a friend and a parent and the best grandfather who helped pick up the pieces when things with Luke started to crumble.

Harry was quiet, a simple nod when he went over to the piano and sat. You felt the need to shift the topic of conversation to something less depressing than the unfortunate events of your life.

“Are you writing a lot for the album still?”

“Yeah--we’ve got a few things written that might end up on it, but, mostly just experimenting with some new sounds.”

He pressed a chord down on the piano and looked up at you. “How do Maeve and CeCe seem to be handling it all?”

“Which part?”

“Both.”

You shrugged. “They’ve asked a lot about where their father is and why he hasn’t visited. And they understand that their grandpa is gone, but they’re sad, I think. CeCe’s had more nightmares than usual.”

He smiled a little. “And how are you doing with all of it?”

You let out a tiny laugh, mostly out of discomfort with the sudden seriousness in his voice and the way he already pulled more out of you than you’d planned. “I’m fine.”

He lifted his brows but played another progression of chords. “Wouldn’t blame you if you’re not.”

You took a sip of the cabernet and watched as he hummed along to whatever he played. When he looked up at you and waited for a reply, you smiled. “Some days I want to pull my hair out and others I need a good glass of wine. I kind of oscillate between those two lately.”

“Well, I’m always happy to split a bottle with you.”

You nodded, tried to fight the smile on your face when he laughed but then gave in. “Good.”

**

You woke up the next morning with a bit of a headache from the third and unexpected glass of wine. The girls were home by 9pm and unfortunately for you, the weekend was busy with play dates and birthday parties and grocery shopping.

Monday had you back in the office and recounting the first week to Tristan over an iced latte and a breakfast sandwich you’d grabbed after school drop off. Now it was cold and you were approaching the mid-day slump you were all too familiar with.

“I just can’t believe you’re alive still, to be honest. You know--seeing as you thought he’d be a serial killer or something.”

You looked over at him with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t think he was a serial killer.”

“Just a pedophile?”

“Alright,” you waved him off. “I can admit that it’s been fine--good, even. It’s only been a week, though.”

“Right,” he shrugged. “Halfway there. Maybe week two is when he goes crazy.”

You ignored the teasing from your friend and looked back to your computer. “Do you know if Kailee ordered the new bottles for the matcha face mask?”

“Yesterday afternoon,” he nodded. “And we also got the labels in for them as well. They ship off to the packaging plant on Tuesday.”

“Good, and numbers are up from last quarter which is really good. The meeting with the investors should go well.”

“Yeah, I mean, our entire profit has doubled since this time last year,” he smiled in your direction, a subtle reminder that the late night emails on top of the worst year ever had already proven to be worth it. “You should be very proud.”

“I am,” you admitted. “Of us. All of us.”

“Yes, what kind of boss would you be if you took all of the credit?” He teased.

“A bad one, but I’m also the type of boss that leaves at lunch time to go home and change since I have a meeting this afternoon that I forgot all about.”

He looked you up and down when you stood.

“It’s with people from Anthropologie about carrying some of our products in store--so I don’t think I can wear athleisure.”

He laughed and kept typing. “Fair enough. See you at 2pm, though, for the website meeting?”

“Yes,” you promised as you grabbed your keys. “Please don’t let the place burn down while I’m gone.”

“Might throw the match myself,” he waved you off, a laugh at his own joke when you headed for the elevator.

You were proud of the company you’d built and the office you’d been able to purchase two years back, but you were more proud of the energy that buzzed through the halls and the people who made work feel less like work and more like the adventure of a lifetime. You tried to be the cool boss who brought enough coffee for everyone, gave good time off but still expected hard work and drive to be the core of the business.

It took a while to settle into the role, though. At first you were sure you’d be seen as a spoiled rich kid who got a loan from her father to start a company--but it only took one year to repay him when you started getting placements in health food markets across LA. When Kourtney Kardashian posted something about your raspberry toner, the rest was history.

You’d always been passionate about making people feel good about themselves and focused your entire brand on building people up, not tearing them down. The world had enough of that as a mother of two daughters, you hoped it’d be something that would change that narrative, at least for them.

The drive home was quick and the sun was shining, which put a pep in your step as you hopped out of the car in the driveway and headed for the side door.

Harry’s car was still here--you’d left earlier than usual but didn’t expect him to be home. If anything, you figured he’d left shortly after you and planned on staying late in the studio. Jeff had mentioned something about laying down new tracks.

“Hello?” You called into the kitchen and looked around, he wasn’t in the living room or out by the pool. You found a laundry basket at the top of the second floor and figured that maybe someone had picked him up, but the sound of muffled singing pulled you down the hall and closer to his guest room.

The door was cracked only a bit, the sun streamed in from the windows and you could hear the running water of the shower. It was wrong, maybe, but you pushed the door open and stepped inside, smiled to yourself at the fact that he was singing a Carole King song that your dad used to play on repeat when you were a kid.

The room was clean--you hadn’t been in it since you’d pointed out the linen closet in the bathroom and showed him how to use the TV remote. His bed was made--maybe not the way you would have made it but the throw pillows were arranged in a way that showed he tried.

A buzzing on the dresser pulled your attention away from the bed. His phone, a message from someone named Bria Whitmore. Another message, then a third. You took a step closer--who on earth was texting him this much without a reply? A girlfriend? Someone he probably slept with or something of the sort.

“Hi,” his voice pulled your head around quickly and sent your heartbeat through the roof.

“Jesus, hi--sorry--I was just--”

He was in a towel, the fabric wrapped loosely around his waist and hair was slicked back from the water. You looked away from the tattoos that littered his skin and looked down at the laundry basket.

“I was just seeing if you had any laundry you needed me to do?”

It was clean, but he didn’t need to know that.

“M’good,” he smiled like he didn’t believe you. “Why are you home?”

“Had to change--forgot about a meeting,” you let out a laugh and tried to slow your pulse. “Figured the pilates mom look wasn’t the right vibe.”

He nodded, moved around you in the center of the room to pull out a t-shirt from a drawer. You saw him look down at the cell phone you’d been eyeing.

“Your phone went off,” you admitted, the laundry basket still pressed up against your hip.

“Yeah?” He smirked over his shoulder.

“I was just making sure it wasn’t an emergency--I wasn’t, like, snooping.”

A dimple appeared on his left cheek again, he tugged the fabric over his head and then shook out his hair.

“S’not an emergency,” he said. “Just a friend.”

You didn’t know if that was code. Were twenty-somethings calling their booty-calls friends now? You figured you’d ask Tristan later.

“Why are you home?” You tossed the question back at him.

“Schedule changed--went for a run after breakfast and now just, showering, y’know,” he looked down at the towel that separated you from an even more awkward moment.

“Right, sorry, I...am leaving,” you pointed to the door. “Changing, back to the office, home tonight.”

“Sounds good,” he smiled. “Figured I could make dinner, if you wanted. I make a mean chicken taco.”

You took a few steps backwards to the door. “You cook?”

“I do,” he smiled. “Hard to believe?”

“No,” you shook your head. “That would be great--if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“I’d love to,” he nodded. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

“With more clothes,” you smiled, immediately regretting the bad joke and the attention it drew to the stuffy air and the butterflies in your stomach.

“Definitely more clothes.”

You made a face at yourself once the door was shut, idiot. At least you hadn’t accidentally seen a picture of someone’s boobs. You were sure he got plenty of those.

You pushed the thought out of your head and thankfully Harry didn’t smirk at you too much when Jeff came to pick up the girls for ice cream the next afternoon. They hadn’t forgotten, but luckily Jeff had offered to take them out one night and it seemed like the perfect opportunity for Harry to tag along. That way he could stay true to his word and the girls would stop pestering him every time he popped down to the kitchen.

Zoey had been begging to bring the baby over to get out of the house, and now she was sitting in the other room with Benny on a play mat on the floor. Maeve, CeCe, Jeff and Harry stood in a line, eagerly awaiting the green light to pile into Jeff’s car.

“Okay, so Uncle Jeff can text me if you need anything, see you around 7pm?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jeff said, a salute in your direction that pulled a giggle from both of your daughters.

They’d been fighting more lately, CeCe tried to take the medal from Maeve’s room one night over the weekend and suddenly it was like world war three. You were shocked that they’d gotten it together enough to spend some time in each other's presence, even with Uncle Jeff chaperoning, but you were eager for the quiet and hopeful the screaming matches wouldn’t return once the ice cream and dinner date was finished.

“Love you, be nice to each other, okay?” You leaned down and used both hands to hold CeCe’s head in place when you planted a kiss on her forehead, then Maeve. A hug for Jeff, “only one ice cream cone this time.”

He laughed but obliged, you moved down the line to Harry, an awkward nod in his direction when you realized that whatever type of acquaintanceship had slowly started to bloom between the two of you was hardly grounds for a kiss on the forehead or even a hug.

He apparently sensed this too, a playful smile on his face when he lifted his brows. “No farewell for me?”

Jeff let out a quick laugh but Maeve and CeCe took off for the car, racing to see who could get out the front door fastest. “Alright, don’t kill each other,” you reminded again, waved them all off with an embarrassed smirk and then watched as Harry helped CeCe buckle into her booster seat.

“So,” Zoey appeared beside you, Benny in her arms as she looked out the window. “Seems like things are going well.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged casually. “He’s been nice.”

“He seems friendly,” she wiggled her brows when she met your gaze. “Flirty friendly.”

“Just friendly,” you laughed and headed for the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. It might have only been Tuesday, but the week promised to be a busy one. You wiped up a runaway drip of wine on the rim, fully aware the words about to leave your mouth would push Zoey into gear. “But I did see him shirtless yesterday.”

“That sounds amazing,” she shifted Benny in her arms, eagerness in her voice. “How was it?”

“I mean--he also caught me snooping in his room, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

You tried to downplay it. “I came home from work in the middle of the day to change and I heard him in the shower--which is weird cause I didn’t think he’d be home.”

“So you went in there?”

“Not the bathroom--I just peeked into his room and noticed it was really clean. Which is weird, right? He’s a kid!”

“He’s not a kid,” she rolled her eyes at you. “Your kids are kids. He’s twenty-four. I looked it up.”

Your eyes were wide when you turned to head for the couch. “You looked it up?”

“I was curious! He’s a celebrity living in your house and he’s very attractive and you have been harping on his age.”

“Because it felt weird at first.”

“And it doesn’t now?” Her tone was hopeful when she laid Benny back on his play mat and kneeled beside him.

You took a gulp from your wine glass. “Less weird, but only because he’s mature. He’s helpful around the house--he cooked dinner the other night--and he’s good with the girls.”

The corner of her mouth pulled towards the ceiling, arched eyebrows when she clarified. “He’s good with the girls?”

“He’s just nice to them--I was worried that they’d annoy him. I mean, I doubt that he was excited to hear that two of his roommates were six and ten.”

“Okay--but why did you see him shirtless?”

Right--she’d gotten you off track. “Because...I went in his room and then saw his phone buzzing and then he came out and caught me looking at his phone.”

“You were looking through his phone?!”

“No! Not the actual texts, just to see who was blowing it up. I only looked at the lock screen.”

“Was he annoyed?”

“No,” you shrugged, shame laced through your voice. “He was casual. But then he put his shirt on and I left him alone and went back to work.”

“So there’s sexual tension,” she shimmied her shoulders and pulled a laugh from you, she nuzzled down into Benny’s face but then gave him a pacifier.

“No.”

This brought her gaze back to you, more serious now. “Y/N, you are not a creep if you admit that you find him attractive.”

“I can admit that he’s handsome,” you chose a new word that felt more detached. “But who cares? He’s literally just a house guest. A friend of a friend.”

“Right, but he was just flirting with you like there’s no tomorrow.”

“No he wasn’t,” you denied her accusation. When she stared at you expectantly, you took a loud sip and let the obnoxious noise ring through the now empty house as if it would preclude you from saying any more.

“You truly, seriously, one-hundred percent haven’t noticed any type of flirting?”

You averted your eyes for a second, ready to dismiss her question and tell her she was crazy. There was nothing going on between the two of you.

But then you thought on it, thought about the way he asked about Maeve and CeCe and remembered the way your stomach seemed to twist itself in knots when he smirked at you and when the dimples appeared on his cheeks.

“The look on your face is enough of an answer,” Zoey teased, bouncing side to side when Benny made a noise. “Isn’t that right, Benny Boo? Someone has a crush.”

“There’s no crush here--he’s just,” a shrug of your shoulders when you didn’t know what words to use. You didn’t want to add fuel to her fire and you certainly didn’t want to give her any more of a reason to keep bringing this topic up.

“Dreamy? Beautiful? The perfect rebound post-divorce?”

A flutter of your eyelids in annoyance when you stood to head for the kitchen. “No,” you said, making a face in her direction. “He’s just cute.”

“So cute!” She followed behind and egged you on. “A crush is perfectly harmless, a little bedtime rendezvous is totally not a big deal.”

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves, here, okay?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “You mean to tell me you haven’t already thought about if he’s good in bed?”

She came to sit next to you at the island, folding her legs beneath her. When you sipped at your wine and tried to hide a smirk, her face lit up. “I knew it, I knew it! I don’t blame you, at all, by the way. He’s gorgeous.”

“I’m just horny, number one,” you admitted, leaning forward to rest your elbow on the granite counter. “And seeing a man actually be good with kids is a breath of fresh air.”

“Yeah, Luke didn’t set the bar high with that one.”

“Absolutely not.”

A pause of silence when evening air blew through the open doors to the patio. There was music audible through the trees, wafting in from the backyard of your neighbors.

“I think you should fuck him.”

“What?!” You turned towards her quickly, your voice quieter when she smirked and looked over at you. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You have a ridiculously attractive man living in your house and he hangs out with your kids and now he’s starting to cook? It’s like a lifetime movie waiting to happen.”

“That doesn’t mean I should have sex with him!”

“Do you want to have sex with him?”

You were quiet for a second, kept her gaze but then rolled your eyes and shook your head. “I’ve had a bad year,” you made an excuse for the pulsing in your veins whenever you were alone with him. Nothing more, nothing less.

“When does he leave again?”

“I don’t know--at the end of the week, I guess. It’s not happening, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Alright,” she seemed to relent, “You do you. I just think you deserve a little feel good time.”

“That sounds gross,” you wrinkled your nose, pulling a laugh out of her.

She was able to change the topic, told you all about the way Benny was getting better at lifting his own head and he was screaming a lot less when she put him down for some tummy time. Your phone dinged, though, signalling a new text just when you were about to pull out leftovers and heat them up.

She watched when you opened it, got excited when you smirked at the screen.

“Who is it?”

You almost didn’t want to show her, but you knew she’d pry it out of your hands with force if you didn’t share. You flipped it around, watched as a smile spread across her face.

A picture of Harry and CeCe, both with sunglasses on as they ate their ice cream. Maeve and Jeff were in the background, the line at the ice cream shop down the street wasn’t too long. You were kind of surprised he was willing to go with them, wouldn't it create a buzz in the headlines?

Zoey gave you a knowing look.

“It’s just sweet.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled a little at first, but the happiness faded from your face when you pulled yourself back to reality. “I feel stupid thinking that he’s flirting with me. He could be with a supermodel if he wanted to. One with perky boobs and who’s, like, twenty. Not someone who’s old enough to be his mom.”

“You are seven years older than him,” she made a disgusted face. “You could have been, like, his babysitter, not his mom.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better.”

“You’re being stupid about this!”

You paused with tupperware in your hands, turned around slowly. “I am not being dumb about not having casual sex with the popstar boyband kid living under my roof. I think not having sex with him is objectively the responsible thing to do here.”

“Why do you always have to be so responsible, though? You have been doing that forever, okay? You’re the business owner mom who’s always been incredibly family-oriented.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not in the slightest! But you’re more than just a mom.”

You bit at your cheek and dropped her gaze, put the tupperware down from exhaustion. “I just want my children to have a normal life. I only had one parent and I thought they were going to have two and now that ship has sailed.”

She nodded sympathetically. “But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong! You never relaxing and having a good time will only teach them bad work-life balance.”

You rolled your eyes at her comment, tried to fight the smile when she waited for you to fold. “I love you,” she said. “I want you to get laid or have a drink or let your hair down once in a while.”

You held up the wine in her face. “Already halfway there.”

She reached for the bottle of wine and shoved it towards you with skeptical eyes. “Try harder.”

You let out a laugh and took another sip once it was refilled, pushed plates into the microwave and sat there with her until Jeff’s car pulled back into the driveway and the girls came tumbling back into the house.

“Mom, Harry said he could teach me how to play guitar,” Maeve grinned up at you, an affectionate hug caught you by surprise, but so did her words.

“He did, did he?” You eyed Harry as he walked in with Jeff by his side, sunglasses still on his face despite the sun lingering just above the horizon.

“We’ll start a band,” Harry nodded in her direction, kept his eyes shielded as CeCe ran into the backyard with a noise of excitement.

“And Uncle Jeff said he’ll sing.”

“You’ll definitely get far, then,” you teased, pulling an offended look from your childhood friend. “He’s obviously the best singer in the house.”

Harry nodded in playful agreement. “Could put me out of a job any day.”

“Maeve!” CeCe called suddenly, pulling everyone’s attention to the backyard. “Come play squishball!”

Harry looked down at Maeve and she looked up at him, you were unaware of whatever unspoken communication was transpiring between them. “Should we?” He asked.

“Definitely,” she giggled, hands on her hips.

Zoey was also confused, but she watched as Maeve and Harry headed for the patio. Harry finally took his sunglasses off, handed them to your older daughter before he spoke. “CeCe, we need to have a meeting.”

“A meeting?” She asked, she groaned in disappointment but walked back towards the house, bat dragging on the grass behind her. Jeff laughed and folded his arms over his chest, unaware of whatever deal had already been struck between them.

“You two are both really great at squishball,” Harry admitted, his voice suddenly more serious than before. “But I think we need to up the stakes.”

“Up the stakes?” You could tell by the look on CeCe’s face that she had no clue what that meant.

“Winner of this game gets the medal I won from the spelling bee,” Maeve explained.

You were about to protest, head outside and discourage any type of betting or gambling or whatever the backyard made up game was leading towards, but Harry went on to explain the rules. “CeCe gets a head start running bases, just because of her tiny legs.”

Maeve nodded, “and she gets a free home run to start off.”

CeCe smiled wide and put her hands on her hips, pulling a laugh from Harry as she copied her older sister. “I like the sound of that,” she said. A sure-fire way to make her win, you realized. But what was in that for Maeve? How had your previously grumpy pre-teen become a team player in a matter of hours?

It wasn’t long before Zoey gathered up her things and put Benny in the backseat, giggling and excited yells floated in from the backyard when you hugged her goodbye. Jeff stayed past sunset and offered an excited high five when CeCe won, completely unaware at how easy they’d made it for her.

But he soon left, too, you climbed the stairs behind your two little athletes, got them washed up and in bed before it was 9pm--not bad for a weeknight. You were sure Harry would have retreated to his room, too, but he was sat by the fire pit on the patio, a near empty glass of wine in his hand when you came back out.

“Care to explain?” you leaned against the doorframe and smiled. He adjusted in his seat but shrugged his shoulders when you admitted: “I never thought I would hear the end of it with that stupid medal.”

There was a confident look on his face when he met your eyes in the glow of the fire pit. “Figured I can teach her a few chords on guitar and that would take her mind off of taunting CeCe.”

It was smart, you nodded slowly and watched him. Give Maeve something that would get her really excited, but only if she’d give up something else. Bargaining--a classic parenting trick. You eyed Harry with a level of skepticism.

“How are you so good with them?”

He smiled at that, apparently flattered by the compliment. “They’re good kids,” he said simply.

“I’m aware,” you laughed, “but you don’t have to spend so much time with them.”

“I like it,” he shrugged. “It’s kind of nice to be around a family, you know?”

The words pulled emotion to your chest. Did you really look like a family to him? No husband, no grandfather, two irreplaceable roles and now you were trying to fill all of them just to keep your kids afloat.

“And besides,” he stood from his chair and grabbed the now empty glass before he came closer to you. “Something about being here just feels right.”

You looked up at him, felt the same rush of heat to your cheeks but hoped you were safe in the cover of night. He smirked, like he knew what he was doing to you but was too much of a gentleman to call you out. Hesitation when you felt some type of magnetic force between you, the distance simultaneously felt like inches and miles.

You smiled softly, embarrassed by the way your pulse picked up and the thoughts that flew through your head. What would happen if I, does he ever think about, am I crazy if I want to?

He brushed past you and walked to the sink, placing the wine glass down quietly before he turned to face you once more. “Is it as bad as you thought?”

Confusion, you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “Sorry?”

“Having me here,” he motioned around, the dimple on his left cheek was visible even in the dim light. You rolled your eyes, dropped his gaze for a second when he let out a quiet laugh. “I hope that it’s only as miserable as you thought--m’just aiming for not worse than expected at this point.”

You turned to face him and put your hands on the granite, thankful for the fact that the island was now between you, the ticking of a clock on the wall kept time when you tried to piece your words together carefully.

Was he flirting with you? A similar to question to that he'd asked only a few nights earlier, this time with more of a smirk on his face and a lilt in his voice that made sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s better,” you admitted with a nod and a teasing smile. “But don’t tell Jeff that.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, held your gaze and then nodded. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was silence for a second, you almost offered to pour him another glass of wine but then he said: “Only a few more days, though.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, the fantasy shattered on the floor between you. “How’s the house coming?”

He winced, a quiet laugh when he shook his head. “Everything’s been pushed out a few weeks, actually. But--it’s fine, I’m probably just going to stay with a friend or something, you know, don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

You brought your lips into a thin line, unsure if what you were about to offer was appropriate or weird or just plain awkward.

“Oh...well, I mean, if you want to stay here longer, you can.”

His mouth pulled up on the side, he brought his gaze back to you and shifted his weight on his feet. “Yeah? You don’t mind?”

You shrugged, again hoping to play it cool or not come off too eager. “If that would be helpful,” you trailed off.

“Yeah, very helpful.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” he nodded, pulling another smirk from you.

A few more weeks, tops.

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[salemorbit]

Do-Over

[Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro Hero!Reader]

warnings: angst y'all i'm feeling angsty; ends with fluff hehe; it's a LONG one boys!!

~~~~~~~

in which you and bakugou hit a speed bump in your relationship

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

You dropped your keys on the table next to your door, slamming it shut with a sigh. You grimaced as you turned awkwardly to strip off your jacket, your shoulder twinging with pain from a minor injury during your recent scuffle.

The apartment was dark, not a soul around to greet you or wait up for you at such an hour. And that was fine, that was how you lived. But deep down inside, at this moment, you felt a pang in your chest that took the shape of a specific blond haired fireball.

Slipping your phone out of your back pocket, you unlocked it and let your thumb glide instinctively to the contact that you talked to the most. You pressed the call button and held the phone to your ear, slipping off your shoes gratefully.

It went to voicemail. Not even his mailbox was set up, just the automated number played in your ear. You let the robotic voice run through its mantra before leaving a message at the tone.

"Hey, it's me. I just got home. I...just wanted to make sure you were okay." You fiddled with your belt. "Call me when you get this."

You clicked end and slid your phone on the counter, leaving it be while you undressed from your work clothes. You cradled your whining shoulder as you slid off your shirt and tossed it aside, mentally making a note to do laundry later.

The past few days at your hero agency had been hard. There were so many hoodlums and villains clogging up your to-do list that you barely had time to call your boyfriend and make sure he was doing all right. It was radio silence from him nearly all week.

But you two had been busy. For some reason, this week was the one time that every baddie wanted to cause chaos. Or at least it felt like it. You slumped down on your dingy couch and stared at the ceiling. Hero work was exhausting, and you didn't even know if it paid off in the long run.

And just a few hours ago you were dealing with a messy explosion of villainy in the middle of your district. It was hard to keep the destruction in check, and you had gotten minorly injured in the process. Your sore shoulder was a scar to boot.

Katsuki had been there, in fact a few of his co-workers had been, too. But he didn't pay you any special attention. You didn't know if that bothered you or not.

Yes, you were both on the job and vowed not to let your relationship get in the way of your hero work as much as possible. On the other hand, you hadn't seen or spoken to Katsuki in a whole week, and the first time you had and he didn't even nod a greeting. What was his issue? It wasn't like you had gotten into an argument or anything.

Shuddering out of thought, you heard your phone buzz once on the counter. You got up and checked it, half expecting it to just be a junk mail message. You were surprised to see that it was a message from Katsuki himself.

I'm home. Goodnight.

You frowned. That was it? You called and left a message, he hadn't spoken to you all week, and all he sent was a three word text?

You didn't know what overcame you, but the frustration inside bubbled up and spilled over in an instant. You turned and activated your quirk out of pure adrenaline, chucking your phone across the room and sending it straight through the apartment wall and soaring into the street below.

That calmed you down quickly. You ran over to your window and threw up the sash, looking down and around for your shattered piece of a phone. But it was gone. You sighed heavily and shut the window, storming into your bedroom and falling into your sheets with a huff.

Now you needed a new phone and, quite possibly, a new boyfriend.

•••

The next day you were off of work, so you took a pain reliever for your shoulder and headed to the nearest phone store to get a new phone. After awkwardly explaining the situation to the clerk, you received a new model and decided to pay a visit to the one man who had gotten you so riled up in the first place.

Katsuki would've been lying if he said he wasn't relieved to see you on the other side of his door that afternoon. He'd had a tiring week, and honestly all he wanted to do was spend time with you and recharge for the most part before doing it all over again.

What he wasn't prepared for, however, was the frown on your face and the angry tapping of your foot as you stood in his doorway.

"You seem unbothered," you said shortly. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows and let himself get shoved aside as you bustled into his apartment.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes?" Katsuki muttered as he shut the door. You grit your teeth and crossed your arms, obviously unhappy, though Katsuki couldn't figure out why.

"Go look in the mirror and take a guess," you glowered. "What's your issue? Why haven't you returned any of my messages this week?"

"I've been busy, you know that," Katsuki crossed his arms as well, not allowing you to have an intimidation factor in this conversation. "This week was hell."

"It was busy for me, too, but I still made the time."

"What are you going on about, dunceface?"

"Your inability to communicate!" You threw your hands in the air. "I've been trying to check in on you this week, but you haven't responded, if at all. And you didn't call me back last night! Just a text? One? I wanted to make sure you were okay after that fight, and you didn't even humor me."

"So? I'm fine."

"I didn't know that," you stressed. Katsuki let out a breath, still not getting it, and this made you even more angry.

"I don't know where this sudden clinginess is coming from-"

"It's not being clingy!" You erupted. "Are you so dense that you haven't realized how checked-out you've been recently? I've given you multiple opportunities to pick up the slack. I've excused your behaviours, given you space, and respected your silence this entire time. You haven't given me anything to work with. It's called being concerned and trying to keep our relationship going, which you don't seem the least bit interested in doing."

"And what if I'm not?" Katsuki growled, just plain upset you were accusing him of things he wasn't doing, at least in his mind. "What would you do if I didn't want to keep this schtick up, huh?"

"Then I'd be wasting my time standing here," you snapped. "And I'd have wasted the last two years on you."

Katsuki felt something in his chest cry, shattering and splitting through the floor below his feet. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, trying his best not to set his living room on fire.

You were there. You were right there, somewhere you hadn't been for the last week. And yeah, he'll admit that maybe he's been a bit distant lately, and the sudden influx in hero-work definitely wasn't helping the situation either. But he was trying to deal with things he hadn't quite felt before, one of those things being his feelings for you.

As of recent, something had shifted in his gut. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and it wasn't like he was going to consult Kirishima or Kaminari about this. God knows they'd just make fun of him for worrying about your relationship.

Did he feel ashamed? Was it embarrassing him that he felt like this for someone? Katsuki Bakugou didn't get embarrassed, so what was this?

"I think we're done here," you muttered, looking down to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. You slid around Katsuki to reach the door, but you were stopped by Katsuki grabbing your arm gently.

You jerked your arm from his grasp, turning to look at him with your chin held high, keeping your trembling lip from showing itself. Katsuki had something in his eyes that had never been there before, and you hated it. You hated that you couldn't read him anymore.

"I don't know you like I thought I did, Bakugou." He flinched at that one. "This was obviously a mistake. I'll see you around."

And you were out the door and out of his range, leaving Katsuki Bakugou to stand in his living room at a loss for words. Something he hadn't been ever since he first met you.

•••

You took the breakup terribly, to say the least.

Yes, you were technically the one who broke it off, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to do it. You didn't want to shut things down like that, but Katsuki had left you no choice. He wasn't getting it, and it felt like he was going to continue to not get it. You just couldn't spend your energy like that anymore.

Mina and Momo were there for you from the second you broke down at a bus stop and called them to pick you up. They were there in a split second, not pressuring you for information until you wanted to tell them.

They were more disappointed in Katsuki than mad. They didn't like how he hadn't been communicating things with you about how he felt or why he had been distant. You broke and told them how it had been going on like this for almost a month now, and this last week was just the tipping point. They backed your decision and got you anything you needed for the next few days, until you were able to be on your own and process the emotions you felt.

Katsuki hadn't tried to call you at all. No texts, emails, voicemails. Your phone was a dry desert, except for the concerned text Midoriya sent you after you assumed Mina and Momo had told him about the debacle. He offered to talk to Katsuki about it, but you declined. It was best to just let it be, let it sink in that Katsuki had messed up royally.

Meanwhile, the man in question was quiet for the next few days. His coworkers noticed his lack of remarks, his friends noticed his distant appearances. All Katuski had been doing since you walked out that door was think. He was thinking long and hard about what he wanted, where you fit into his life, and the way he had acted as of recent. This was quite possibly the most Katsuki had ever thought about anything; typically he was so sure on the get-go that he needn't time to stop and reflect.

But this was different. You were different.

It wasn't until the next Saturday after your breakup that Katsuki found himself on the other side of your apartment door, hand poised to knock. He decided he didn't want to do something like this over the phone; it was just too impersonal. So he mustered up the courage to face you again, and prayed you wouldn't throw him out of your four-story high window in the process.

He knocked, waited. No answer. Getting slightly annoyed, he knocked again, louder. Still no answer.

Katuski was now incredibly annoyed, and bent down to take the key from under your doormat and just unlock the damn thing himself. As he lifted the mat, he saw a slip of paper taped to the floor where the key should've been:

Don't try to break in. Calling the police is not below me.

Katsuki huffed, standing up and going to knock on the door again when he was interrupted by the rustling of paper bags. He turned over his shoulder and saw you standing on the opposite end of the hallway, holding some grocery bags in your arms and staring right at the blond standing on your doormat.

There was a tense few moments of silence before you broke it, audibly frustrated.

"Can you get out of the way so I can put these inside?" You frowned. Katsuki blinked, then moved aside to let you fumble your key in the lock dumbly.

"I can-"

"Shut up," was all you said before opening the door and letting it bang against the inside wall. Katuski stood on the threshold, unsure of if he should just walk in or not, before inviting himself in as soon as he figured you wouldn't give him the time of day. He watched from your counter as you passive aggressively slammed things on the counter or into their place in your kitchen.

"Care telling me why you're here?" You asked, flat-toned and not looking at Katsuki in the slightest.

"I wanted to talk."

"About?"

He rolled his eyes. "Us, dimwit."

You stopped and let your head hang, propping yourself on the counter with your hands spread flat. You still didn't look up at him, which was greatly pissing him off.

"We already did. Last week," you said.

"That wasn't a conversation," Katsuki ground out. "That was you coming to me and exploding out of nowhere. I didn't even have the chance to-"

"It wasn't out of nowhere," you interjected.

"Stop interrupting me, damn it, and just let me talk!" Katsuki spat. You looked up at him with a withered look, making his fire simmer down immediately.

"Fine," you said, voice wavering slightly. Katsuki cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He smiled slightly, bittersweet. You didn't react, so he went on.

"You're an idiot because you've got terrible tunnel vision," he said, glancing at the living room that looked like you had been sleeping in. You had a perfectly tangible bed in the next room, but there were just too many memories in there for you to spend the night in again.

"I can see fine," you grumbled.

"No, you can't," Katsuki looked back at you. "You haven't been able to see how hard I've been trying these last few weeks to figure things out. Figure us out."

"Well how the hell am I supposed to know that if you don't tell me anything?" You asked, trying to keep your voice from rising. The last thing you needed was a fight. You were just too tired.

"That's...something I need to work on," Katsuki muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "And I will admit that. Don't make fun of me for it."

"I never said I would."

"Great, because I gotta whole lotta other things to admit to." His eyes narrowed. "I don't wanna hear shit from you for the next five minutes, got it?"

You sighed, miming zipping your mouth shut as you went back to putting away your groceries. You might as well let him talk, since you knew his stubbornness wouldn't let him leave your kitchen so soon without him getting in his two cents.

"I've been thinking long and hard lately," he began. "On my own. Nothin' from anyone else except my own thoughts. So this is one hundred percent me.

"I screwed up. I did. And it took me a minute to realize it because I was so much in my head about things. I was so focused on trying not to mess us up that I went and did that shit anyway. And all you've been is supportive and caring, and quite honestly I don't know how to handle that since I haven't really been with anyone like that."

He was being honest, you knew from his tone of voice. It was a tone you had heard only a few times before this moment: when he told you he loved you. And you believed it.

Katsuki took in a breath: "So I'm here. And I'm sorry. At first I was mad at you for marchin' into my house the other day and spewing things I knew nothing about, but then I realized that you were spewing those things because you knew nothing about me and where I was at. And that was frustrating for you because you got that whole communication thing you like to do, or whatever."

"Or whatever," you mumbled to yourself, smiling slightly. He picked up on that, his spirits lifting a bit as well.

"I've just been thinking about things and where you are and who I want you to be to me as we live our lives. And I screwed it up by not talking to you about that either. It's a conversation we both should have. So," he sighed, "I'm sorry. And I'll continue to be sorry because you don't deserve to be left in the dark. I love you, and I want to be better."

He finished his little speech and the two of you were quiet. You had paused putting things away about halfway through, really listening to him and what he had to say. He deserved that from you in the least.

You looked up at him and saw that he had already been staring at you, an intent look in his eyes. It was your turn now. He wanted a response to his being vulnerable. You knew it wasn't easy for him to open up like that, despite the last two years of helping him get comfortable, so you didn't torture him with the suspense.

"We'll see," you said. Katsuki did a double take, eyebrows furrowing.

"We'll see?" He repeated. You nodded rounding your counter to stand in front of him.

"If we want to keep doing this for however many more years we keep doing this," the corner of your mouth lifted in a smirk, "then we'll just have to see."

"Great," Katsuki rolled his eyes and sent a seething glare out the window. "I totally lay myself on the train tracks and you just run me over like that. Thanks."

"But," you continued, trying to catch his eye, "I appreciate you coming to me. And I appreciate the apology. However, I won't know if I can accept it until I know you'll actually go through with it."

"Understandable," Katsuki sighed, comprehending this. "I deserve that one."

"Are you ready for a do-over?" You asked, catching his hands in yours. He couldn't help but notice a weight in his chest lift at the presence of your touch after weeks of barely anything. Katsuki still had some work to do, but it was worth it if he could keep you around.

"Always," he kissed you on the forehead and you smiled giddily.

"Awesome because we now have two weekends of cuddle-time to make up for, and my bedroom hasn't been used in a week," you led him to your door.

"Oh no," Katsuki complained sarcastically, "however will we make up for such lost time?"

"Shut up, you big doofus," you grinned. "You know you love me."

"That I do."

~~~~~~~

a teensy tiny bit of OOC bakugou near the end there but like. he'd be a sucker for that and totally willing if it was just the two of you around HAHA

anyways this was cute and i....am forever still in love w bakugou :))))

[handsomelyhiddleston]

The Cabin - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader (Part 2/3)

Part 1

You woke up as the movie credits were scrolling. The kiddos were all still asleep strewn about the den. Looking at the clock, you realized it was about lunch time.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw Lisa sorting out the food that needed to go to the grill while one of Chris’ sisters was working on making some side dishes. “Anything I can help with?” You walked to the coffee maker to make a second cup of coffee.

“I think we’ve got everything sorted” Lisa answered. “Can you bring these out to the guys?” She was holding a large tin pan full of hot dogs, hamburgers, and veggie burgers.

“Of course.” You answered, holding your coffee in a way that let you grab the pan. “Do you mind opening the door?”

Chris’ sister hurried to the door, sliding it open.

“Thank you” you said, heading down the wooden deck to where the guys were sat by the grill.

“Look who’s awake” Chris teased, jogging to you to take the pan.

“I have to say, I needed that nap.” You laughed, following Chris to the grill.

“Are the kids still passed out?” Scott asked, watching you take a seat next to Tom. Chris started grilling the food.

“Yup” you answered. “I restarted the movie so they’d have the background noise.”

“Aren’t you cold?” Tom asked, seeing you were still in your fuzzy socks and sweater.

You shrugged, sipping your coffee. “I’m good for now. Anyone know what the plans are for the rest of the day?”

“Food. Probably hit the store in a bit. I think jetlag is gonna hit everyone harder than they think” Chris laughed.

“We should go get stuff for drinks after lunch” Scott suggested.

“I’m in. We should get a list from your mom of anything else she thinks we’ll need right away” you replied.

“Do you mind if I tag along?” Tom asked, looking between you and Scott.

“Of course, not” you answered, shivering a bit as the cold soaked through your sweater.

“Scott, can you go grab a pan for the cooked meat” Chris asked.

“Sure thing” Scott answered, getting up.

“Can you grab the blanket by the door?” you called out as he walked towards the cabin.

“God, do I have to do everything around here” Scott teased in a dramatic voice, making the rest of you laugh.

“Would you like my jacket?” Tom asked as you took another sip of your coffee.

You turned to look at him and shook your head no, a soft smile on your face.

When your gaze lingered a bit longer than one would call socially acceptable, Tom’s cheeks turned pink. “Do I have something on my face?”

You laughed. “No, you’re just…hear me out…like, if I were to write a perfect gentleman into whatever story I’m writing…I think that’s you…you check all of the boxes.”

Tom smiled and cleared his throat. “If I may ask, is that a compliment or are you trying to gently inform me that I’m incredibly boring.”

Chris let out a loud laugh, which prompted both of you to laugh. “I meant it as the highest compliment” you assured him.

“Well, in that case, I’m extremely flattered.” Tom replied, lifting his arm and prompting you to fill the small gap between the two of you. When you’d scooted against his side, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

When Scott returned, he tossed the blanket over both of your laps, going to stand by the grill with Chris. By the way they would take turns glancing back at you and Tom, you assumed they were talking about you.

“Chris mentioned that you do some sort of writing or consulting outside of your books.” Tom said, simply wanting to get to know you better.

You laughed, knowing that it drove Chris crazy not knowing what else you did for work. “Well, that’s accurate.”

“Is it safe to assume you won’t tell me what it is?” Tom smirked.

“I mean, never say never” you replied, looking up at Tom.

“Well, if I can’t know what else you do for work, what do you do for fun?” He continued, the two of you chatting until it was time to go inside to eat.

It felt good to have the cabin full of people. Chris’ family and a few of their family friends, including you and Tom, spent the next hour eating, laughing, and telling embarrassing stories about each other as you do when you’ve got the whole family together.

You were banished from the kitchen when you’d tried to help with the dishes. “You and the boys go do your shopping, we’ll clean up” Lisa said, handing you a short list and shooing you away.

“Now I know where Chris gets his stubbornness” you teased, hearing Lisa laugh as you left the kitchen.

You climbed the stairs, stopping at Chris and Tom’s rooms, both of them sitting in Chris’ room with Scott. “You guys ready to go?”

“Just waiting for you” Scott replied.

“Let me grab my jacket and my shoes and I’ll meet you guys’ downstairs.” When you made it outside, Chris already had your SUV started, letting the heating warm up.

“Mind if I drive?” he hollered out the window.

You shook your head no, walking around to the side of the truck and climbing into the back seat next to Tom. Scott was sat up front in the passenger seat. “I’ve got the list from your mom.”

“Then we are ready to rock n roll” Chris said, looking in the various mirrors to make sure it was safe to back-up.

Chris drove around the town for a while. He drove down a few scenic roads showing Tom the beautiful landmarks. When he saw a perfect, untouched patch of snow he insisted the four of you make snow angels. Of course, he made sure to get a picture of everyone laying in their angel.

Next stop was the liquor store. You pushed the cart around with Tom as Scott and Chris added various bottles and pre-made beverages to the cart.

“Y/n!” you heard Scott call from a few aisles over.

“Yes?” you laughed, looking to see if he was going to pop around the corner.

“Do you have a beer pong table?” It was Chris’ voice you heard this time.

You and Tom laughed at the brothers. “No” you answered.

“If I had to bet, I’d say that you’re about to be the proud owner of a brand-new beer pong table.” Tom laughed, walking with you towards the front of the store.

When you rounded the corner, you saw the brothers walking towards you. Scott had a fold-up beer pong table in his hands and Chris had two cases of White Claw and a bag of red solo cups in his.

“White Claw?” you laughed.

“Less calories than beer means that I have to spend less time at the gym while I’m here.” Chris replied, putting everything in the cart. “Speaking of, Tom do you want to work out with me in the mornings?”

“Absolutely” Tom replied. “I was a bit nervous to go running with all of the ice and snow.”

“I’d be more worried about the bears” you said, watching his eyes go wide.

“Now I’m extra glad that I didn’t try to run this morning” Tom said, following you as you pushed your cart to the front of store checkout. Chris pulled his card out before you could even offer to pay.

Next stop was the grocery store.

As Chris and Scott gathered the things on their mother’s shopping list, you took Tom to the baking aisle. “You mentioned that your family bakes when everyone gets together.”

“I did.” Tom smiled as he continued. “My mother and my sisters are usually baking some sort of sweet.”

“Well…” You gestured to the various options laid out in front of you. “What do you want to bake?”

“Really?” Tom asked, looking over at you.

“We can make pretty much anything” you answered. “I mean, unless you don’t want to.”

“No, no. I do.” Tom replied, swallowing back a bit of emotion. “I just…I know we really only just met so you have no way of knowing any of the craziness that has been going on in my life.”

You could sense a bit of hesitation in Tom so you reached out and grabbed one of his hands in yours.

Tom smiled, his eyes watering a touch. “And I’m not complaining, I promise you. I’m grateful that I’ve been afforded so many opportunities. I just…I only got to see my family for 4 days all last year. Home is the one place I feel like I can completely be myself and relax and…Well, when I found out I wasn’t going to see my family on the one break I have for the next three months, I didn’t expect…”

When he stopped talking, you slid your arms around his middle, pulling him into a hug.

“I apologize.” He said, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sure a simple ‘thank you’ would have been a much more eloquent response.”

You could feel a light laugh rumble in his chest. “Don’t apologize.” You loosened your arms a bit to pull back from the hug.

Tom’s arms held you against himself for a moment before letting you go. “What is your favorite thing to bake?” he asked you.

You thought for a moment before answering. “Cookies.”

“Then I’d love to bake cookies with you” he replied, turning towards the various bags of chocolate chips.

“FYI” you said, grabbing a small bag of sugar and flour.

“Yes?” he put two different types of chocolate chips in the basket.

“I think anything you say in that accent sounds eloquent.” You pushed the cart further down the aisle to grab the oil. You could hear Tom laugh behind you.

“I’ll have to remember that.”

When the four of you got back to the car, Chris recommended picking up pizza for dinner since you guys had been gone a few hours.

“Just text your mom to make sure she isn’t already working on something.” You replied

When Chris got the green light on his pizza plans from Lisa, he placed the order over the phone and you guys picked it up on the way back to the cabin.

As everybody dug into the pizza, you took your baking supplies to the kitchen to tuck them away. You wanted to make sure that no one else used them before you could bake the cookies with Tom. Deciding to catch up on your work emails, you grabbed a slice of pizza and headed upstairs to your room. Sat at your desk with your headphones blasting your favorite music, you started replying to potential project proposals and questions your publishers had about your next works.

Because of your headphones, you didn’t hear Tom walk into your room about a half hour later. As he walked up to your desk, he was calling out your name not realizing you couldn’t hear him.

Standing behind your chair, he glanced at one of your computer screens, understanding what you’d been doing since you’d disappeared. What he didn’t expect, though, was what project you were currently emailing about.

See, most of the people that knew you as an author knew you wrote books in the same category as Hunger Games or Beautiful Creatures…Well, having the ability to hide completely behind an anonymous pen name let you venture into some projects that you deemed a bit more…fun? Maybe spicy is the right word.

Feeling bad for accidentally snooping, Tom put his hand on your shoulder to get your attention, scaring the absolute shit out of you. You threw your headphones off and turned in your chair, your heart going a million miles an hour.

Tom was stood there trying not to laugh. “I’m so sorry.”

“OH, dear god” you laughed, laying your hand over your heart and leaning back in your chair. “You about gave me a heart attack.”

“I was meant to come and tell you the brothers want to play beer pong, but I think they can wait a bit longer.” Tom said with a grin on his face.

You tilted your head to the side, confused as to what Tom meant. “That sounds both ominous and sexy” you laughed.

Tom chuckled and turned your chair back to face your computer. “Mind telling me what project you’ve got coming up?”

“Now it makes more sense” you continued laughing. On your screen was the proposed cover of your new book in an email you were replying to. You leaned your chair back so you were looking at Tom upside down. “You sure you can handle it?”

“I’m a bit offended that you think I can’t” Tom answered.

“You asked for it” you replied, standing up and walking over to your door. Sliding the lock in place, you walked to your closet, turning to Tom. “You coming?”

Tom opened his mouth to speak and paused, choosing to simply nod and follow.

Walking to the back of your closet, you pushed your clothes to the side and opened another door. This was your writing room. Specifically, for your ‘adult’ books.

You’d covered the walls in inspiration, essentially. In addition to your mainstream ‘young adult’ or ‘new adult’ novels, you wrote adult books…erotica…but your books were very inclusive. They featured various orientations, gendered pairings, gender identities, ethnicities, body shapes, body sizes, and various forms of being differently abled. Your walls were covered in artwork that featured real bodies in all of their various forms.

“So, this is your secret career?” Tom asked, looking at all of the various things hung on the walls.

“One of them” you answered, opening a cabinet full of dozens of books.

As Tom sorted through them, he understood your niche. “I think this is brilliant” he said, staring at you with an eye crinkling smile.

“Thanks” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm. “I don’t know how I thought you were going to react, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

“I mean it” he replied, continuing to look at the various books. “I love storytelling. Obviously, it’s a huge reason why I pursued acting. I love literature and music and many other various forms of art but acting has been my passion for so long. It’s only now that I’m realizing how narrow of a range that I’m personally capable of expressing.”

“Hey, that’s not true” you replied.

“That came out wrong” Tom turned to you. “What I meant to say was that as an actor I will never be able to personally tell many of these stories. Sex aside, obviously.” Tom lightly laughed.

“The only reason I was able to tell a lot of them was because I talked to and got to know people that had little to no representation IN these kinds of stories.” You pulled out a box of letters and printed emails. “When I started writing these books, I wrote for women that looked like me. Bigger women are rarely cast as the romantic lead, in literature or on screen. When we are, we have to go through some stupid ‘worthless to worthy’ journey where a ‘special kind of man’ swoops in to complete us and convince us we deserve love. We’re never just allowed to happily exist AND have a happy ever after.”

When you turned to look at Tom, he caught you off guard by roughly pressing his lips against yours as his hands held either side of your face. When he pulled back, his hands lingered a moment longer. “I do apologize. I couldn’t help myself.” He cleared his throat and turned back to the box you had pulled out. “Please, go on.”

You stared at him a moment longer, trying to gather your thoughts before turning back to the letters. “What I was saying before you so delightfully interrupted me…” You glanced at him, seeing him lick his bottom lip as he smiled. “Under my pen name, I run a page online. People send me their personal stories, fantasies, questions, worries…These people come in more than just various shapes and sizes. Some of them are in wheelchairs or are not as able bodied as you and me. I have a woman with Tourette’s who shares stories about her sex life and romantic life with her wife while living with her various tics. I just saw that someone started a new forum for people who have had mastectomies. When I go to write a story that represents something I can’t personally speak to, I talk to those that can. I get permission to even attempt to represent them. Sex is the easiest part of these to write. I feel responsible to do right by them and to translate the truth of their experience into a bit of romantic escapism. If they want to, everyone should be able to find characters they can relate to.”

“I think that what you’ve done is really, quite incredible.” Tom complimented you.

“Thank you” you replied, chuckling. “It’s weird getting compliments for essentially writing porn.”

Tom laughed, turning one of the books over in his hand. “Am I allowed to read any of them?”

“Go for it” you replied. “You just cannot tell Chris about any of this. At all. Pinky promise?” You extended your pinky towards Tom.

With a very serious face, Tom hooked his pinky in yours and answered. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“We should probably go downstairs. Chris and Scott are probably wondering why the hell we’re taking so long” you laughed, walking out of your writing room.

Tom turned to grab a book before following you out, closing the door on his way. “I’m going to tuck this in my bag in my room.”

“I’ll meet you down there.” When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you saw Scott and Chris practicing their aim with no beer in the cups. “Who against who?”

“Us against you two, obviously” Chris answered, Scott switching to stand on the same side of the table as Chris.

“Oh, it’s like that?” you laughed, opening two of the cans and filling your cups.

“You guys don’t stand a chance” Scott added. “Has Tom ever even played beer pong?”

“I have, actually” he answered, coming down the stairs.

“Then let’s see what you got!” Chris teased, acting like a total frat boy.

The four of you played quite a few rounds before your lack of sleep and buzz from the alcohol finally got the better of you.

“I’m calling it quits” you said, covering your mouth as you yawned.

“I should probably go to bed too since I’m setting an alarm for 6 am to go work out” Chris pouted, letting his head fall back.

“I’ll set mine as well” Tom added.

“You guys are so boring” Scott teased, starting to clean up the cups.

You grabbed the cups from yours and Tom’s side as well as all of the empty cans and started walking towards the kitchen to throw them away.

“I’ll grab those” Tom said, taking the cups from Scott and following you into the kitchen.

You dumped the cups and cans in the trash and turned to see Tom walking in with the rest of them. “Thanks.”

Tom dropped the cups into the trash and turned to you. “About earlier…”

“About that…” you smiled, half asleep and tipsy. You loosely wrapped your arms around Tom’s middle. “Want to explain yourself?”

Tom chuckled. “I think my actions were self-explanatory.” He placed one hand on your cheek, the other pushing your hair out of your face.

“I don’t know” you teased. “I think I need further explanation.”

“Explanation or demonstration?” Tom asked, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You pretended to be considering the two options for only a few seconds before his lips were against yours again.

“Y/n!” Scott called. You could hear him and Chris talking just around the corner.

You felt like two teenagers being caught by parents. You and Tom broke apart, both scrambling to be pretending to do something else. He ended up pulling the trash bag out of the bin and tying it up even though it could clearly hold more trash and you ended up unloading the dishwasher.

“What happened to going to bed?” Chris asked, confused as to why you two were doing chores.

“I’m going” you replied. “I just didn’t want your mom to have to do this in the morning.”

“Well then you should have asked for help” Chris replied, helping you finish unloading the dishes. Scott started wiping down the counters and refilled the paper towels. Tom tried to hide the smirk on his face as he took the trash to the outside bin, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to bed for real this time” you said, putting the last glass away.

When you woke up the next morning you could hear someone in your shower. Part of you hoped that maybe Tom had come up to use yours since him and Chris would both want to shower after coming back from the gym.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Chris said, interrupting your short daydream about a very sweaty Tom walking into your room after working out.

“Oh, it’s just you” you teased him, turning over and snuggling back into your bed.

“Damn, someone woke up in a mood” Chris teased back, walking toward your bed with a towel wrapped around his bottom half. “You hoping it was someone else?”

“A girl can dream” you turned over to smirk at him.

“Are you two a thing?” He asked, dropping down to lay in your bed.

“I don’t know” you answered honestly.

“Do you like him?” Chris continued, laughing when you blushed.

“I mean, I haven’t exactly gotten to know everything about him, but I think he’s kind of great.” You replied.

“Well, for what it’s worth I approve” he said, rolling back out of your bed and heading downstairs to get dressed.

Part 3

[moonctzeny]

Work for it

Part II: Promotion

pairing: coworker! johnny x reader

other members as background characters: haechan as johnny’s assistant

genre: smut

warnings: explicit smut, semi-public sex, spit in mouth, pussy slapping, throatpie (omg I got so embarrassed writing this down)

word count: 5,792

summary: “One of your co-workers, the supervisor of the Sales Department John Suh, is arguably the hottest man you’ve seen in your life. You try to act on your crush but he is just plain oblivious to your efforts, but you won’t stop until your fantasies come true”

 -------------------------------------------------------------

Work for you was living hell and no, it wasn’t for the normal reasons. You had a nice job as an intern in the Financial Department of a company, and with your hard work getting recognized, you were looking forward to being offered a permanent position soon.

Today was no different. You had made sure all your files were organized, calls made and deadlines in check. All you had left to do was look over a report in the office of none other but the man who was causing your suffering. Mr. Suh.

Mr. Suh, or Johnny as he insisted on being called, was the supervisor of the Sales Department but he didn’t let it get to his head. He was extremely friendly, willing to help his subordinates and brought a smile to everyone’s face. Working with him would be amazing if there wasn’t one little problem. He was the sexiest man you had ever seen.

Now, now, you weren’t some middle schooler. You came into this company committed to get the position you deserve, not beg for some man’s dick. But when he first welcomed you in the main elevator, tall height, hair pushed back and with a face of godly facial structure, you almost pressed the stop button so he could take you right then and there.

You brought some files along and ascended the stairs that lead you to his office on the top floor. It would be more convenient if Mr. Suh sent the report downstairs with his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, but you insisted on paying him a visit, saying something about how a little work out never hurt anyone.

When you saw Donghyuck at his desk, he didn’t even look up from his laptop, pointing at the door instead.

“Put your panties back on. He’s on the printing room”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, used to his teasing about your crush on mr. Suh and headed out for said room at the end of the hall. Johnny was hunched over a machine, shaking it from side to side.

You knocked lightly on the already open door to announce your presence, and he turned around, flashing you his killer smile.

“y/n, hello! I was just trying to get you a copy of the report, but the damn printer seems to be broken again.”

You tried to tell him that it’s okay, that you can use the printer from your floor downstairs, but then he bent over trying to locate the cause of the malfunction, giving you a perfect view of his ass in his fitted tracksuit. Rutting the machine around, he thrusted his hips forward, letting out the occasional grunt, and you took a mental picture for later. He must have shaken something a bit too hard, because ink started to spill out of the cartilage.

“Aww, it’s dripping everywhere”

He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and you couldn’t help but stare at how veiny and strong his arms looked as he pushed down. Your mind wandered off, imagining how nice it must feel to have him on top of you, applying this kind of pressure with his pretty hands around your neck as he-

“y/n? Are you ok?”

“Uh-um yes! Sorry Mr. Suh, it’s been a hard day”

It’s been your cute ass that made it hard for me to function around you was what you actually meant. He winked your way, and you were almost sure he did a double take on a skirt you wore that he had complimented before.

See, it’s not like you never thought of making a move on Johnny. You knew he was single, and he even told Donghyuck that he thought you were cute. Romantic relations between coworkers was not a rare thing, but the way everyone around here respected him made you nervous to approach him. No matter how many people fell for his charming personality and his visuals, he was never part of the company’s gossips and you knew the reason. The guy was denser than a brick wall.

You tried testing the waters with him, taking the light flirting a bit further, but he never seemed to catch the point. Maybe he was so used to getting this kind of attention that he dismissed your attempts as just friendly banter.

But you weren’t ready to give up.

“Sometimes I like coming here to relax. This place is usually so nice and quiet. It gives you privacy to do so many things”

What you said must have piqued his interest, since he gave up on the printer and turned his attention to you instead.

“Things, that the company wouldn’t approve of doing in here?”, he said in a lower voice than before and your throat felt dry when you answered him.

“Yeah. It’s just, we wouldn’t get caught in here, you know?”

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean”

He took two steps towards you before lowering down to whisper closer to you.

“I actually know a place that has even more privacy than this room. I usually go there alone, but it will be so much more fun with you”

Droplets of sweat had collected on his temples as a result of his physical activity earlier, making his words sound so much more enticing. He looked around, checking if anyone was standing in the hallway, before whispering again.

“This will be our little secret, ok?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, ready to get your world rocked by John Suh. He reached for something in his back pocket, but instead of a condom, he whipped out something you’d never expect.

A pack of cigarettes.

“I told everyone I’d quit but the stress gets too much sometimes, you know? I didn’t remember you smoke, though”

Oh my god. Oh my god, you were so stupid. All this time you thought you coaxed him into a steamy, clothes-on, ass on the printer quickie and he meant sneaking you out for a guilt-drenched cigarette break??!!

“Right! You didn’t remember that I smoke because.. because I don’t! ...Anymore. I mean, I quit, just like you. And you know what Mr. Suh, we shouldn’t succumb to the needs of the flesh! Fight back to our bad habits and get healthier! Together!”

He was frozen in place, dumbfounded by your sudden anti-smoking monologue.

“Wow y/n I didn’t know you were so serious about this. Very impressed by your spirit though.” He patted you on the back before picking up the report from the printer and getting to the door. “I’ll tell Donghyuck to print this for you and deliver it to your desk. Won’t take too long, alright?”

And just like that, he managed to leave you in the printing room alone, horny, and one report down.

 ——————————————————

 The next morning at the office was as typical as any other, with the difference that it was raining cats and dogs. The low that was centered over the area caused continuous storms, the rain and moody atmosphere making it impossible for you to keep your eyes open.

You headed over to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, already the second one of the day, when you saw a very familiar someone occupying the coffee machine.

“Mind if you make me a cup too Mr. Suh? I hear you make the best coffee in the office”

He chuckled at you, instantly recognizing your voice.

“It’s my pride. I do love coffee” After turning on the machine he looked at you finally, a serious look on his face. “Listen, y/n, about yesterday, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to drag you down with me like that. You were right about the cigarette thing. I’ll quit for good”

You blinked at him, trying to grasp the ridiculousness of the situation and feeling a bit sorry for guilting him like that.

“It’s ok Mr. Suh don’t worry about it. No big deal”

“Oh and, please, call me Johnny. You make me feel a thousand years old. I’m not that much older than you.”

“Yes Mr.- Johnny”

Just at that moment, a lightning struck, making you jump in place. You glanced at the window, or rather the stormy mess outside, and sighed.

“Chose the wrong day to forget my umbrella huh?”

“You want me to drop you off?”, he offered, immediately making you panic.

“No no! It’s okay. The metro station is really close. It’s fine if I get a little wet anyways, I won’t melt, I’m not made of sugar”

You cringed a bit at your nerve-induced blurting, but it would all be gone in a second.

“You’re sweet like sugar though”

He poured the now brewed coffee on both your cups and you just stared at his movements in shock. Did he just? Initiate the flirting? And called you sweet?

Ok, this is it, you thought.

“Do you like sugar?”, you asked him seductively, making your arms touch. You had to take advantage of this opportunity. The ride home suddenly didn’t sound like such a bad idea.  

“Oh no thanks I drink my coffee black”

Looking at the clock on the wall he picked up his cup and took a sip, striding out of the kitchen and leaving you speechless, much like yesterday.

“I’m late for a meeting. See you later, y/n”

You groaned as you watched him walk away, pouring an excessive amount of sugar in your drink.

“That’s not what I meant...”

 ———————————————————

 Meetings usually meant making sure you had enough battery on your phone to silently play your favorite game, while you heard some old guy in a suit blabber on and on about the most boring topic on earth. Usually you’d be complaining about why they just had to take away valuable time of your day to talk about an issue that could very easily be briefed in a mass email, but not today. Because today, the man of honor who got to do all the talking, was Johnny.

To anyone else, you looked like the most eager intern in the company, taking in every single word that came out his mouth. In reality, you were just immensely turned on by his fluent English, his new suit, and his ability to capture everyone’s attention. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you could listen to him talk all day about how “Results are important” and “Taking a more aggressive strategy is vital”.

A sudden noise made everyone turn to the exit door, only to see that it was just the cleaning lady that had dropped her bucket as she was going down the stairs. You felt Donghyuck, who was sitting next to you as always, nudge you with his knee.

“Oh look, she brought a mop for your drool, how nice of her”

“I’m not drooling”, you whispered back with a glare, shoving him with your elbow.

“Right”, he chuckled, “you’re ready to get on your knees for him right now”

It was really hard to get the picture that Donghyuck had painted out for you off your head for the rest of the meeting. You pathetically rubbed your thighs together to get the slightest feeling of relief, and tried to mute out Johnny’s sexy voice with no avail. When the meeting was finally over, you walked out of the meeting room along with everyone else, when you saw Johnny catch up with you.

“Hey y/n”

“Hi Johnny! Nice presentation up there”

He beamed up at your compliment and you wanted to coo at him for looking so cute. His aura changed a color when he replied to you, turning solemn.

“Thank you. Glad to see you’ve finally dropped the formalities with me”. I can drop my panties too if you want, you thought to yourself, but you only smiled at him when he managed to leave you speechless once again. “Is it wet?”

Wet? Fuck, was Donghyuck right? Were you really so caught up on eating Johnny up with your eyes that he noticed? That he realized you were so turned on by him? He saw your confused expression and tried to futilely explain.

“Is it wet? Down there?”

You were losing it. Was he really asking you that in front of all your coworkers? Your face couldn’t possibly get any hotter, feeling as if you were burning up with a high fever. You realized you hadn’t said a word back.

“E-excuse me?”

“Wasn’t the cleaning lady going downstairs earlier to mop? I figured you’d know if the floor was still wet. Since your office is on the bottom floor”

Get your mind out of the gutter, y/n. Quick, say something already! Stop staring at him like a lost puppy!

“Uhh no I don’t know actually. I’m sorry, I have to go”

You turned swiftly on your heel to walk away from him, and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

If Donghyuck was here to witness this, you’d never get to hear the end of his teasing.

 ———————————————————

 You didn’t expect an email like that from the Sales Department. You were at your desk, minding your business when you got the notification, almost choking on the gum you were chewing on.

 y/n,

I have something very confidential to show you in my office. I think you’ll be very pleasantly surprised. Bring your sexy ass over here at 16:00 sharp.

Johnny Suh

 You must have re-read those 30 words about a thousand times to ensure you weren’t making things up. You freshened up your makeup, thanking the gods of sex that you decided to wear cute underwear this morning. All the things you were daydreaming about since your first meetup at the main elevator, were finally about to happen. Fidgeting around in your seat, you felt yourself getting wetter thinking of all the nasty things Mr. Suh was planning on doing to you in his office.

It was 16:25 when you walked up the stairs, not brave enough to make a man like Johnny wait. All his assistants were gone, probably send off somewhere to avoid having them hear your little unprofessional tête-à-tête.

You walked into his office, the door slightly open. He was sat on his chair, the back turned to you and you started to feel nervous. You didn’t notice he had changed his hair. And wasn’t he wearing a different suit this morning?

“Um Johnny? You asked to see me?”

He tsked at you, turning around.

“16:28? I thought you had more of a backbone than that, y/n. Also thought you’d come in here naked. Disappointing.”

The smug smile, the teasing voice. Donghyuck.

“The email was fake wasn’t it?”

“Luckily for you, yes, I was the one who sent it. I mean, seriously. This ugly brown suit for a dick appointment with Mr. Suh?”

When you graduated university with honors, you didn’t think you’d one day be charged with the murder of a company’s assistant. But right at his moment, as you grabbed the stapler from the desk and walked over to him ominously, you thought it was all worth it.

“Lee Donghyuck, after I’m done with you the only dick appointment you’ll make is with the ER doctor, to get these staples off your balls”

He got up, panicking, and started to back away from you.

“Somebody save me, please, mom!”

You were ready to grab him by his tie and fulfill your threat, when you heard someone clear his throat at the door. And this time it was the real Mr. Suh.

He had his arms crossed, a smile appearing on his face as you shoved your friend away and immediately dropped the stapler from your hold.

“You know, you two are always wasting time over here, messing around. Maybe I should punish you”

Oh god yes, please do.

It was Donghyuck’s deadpan expression that made you realize that you had actually said that out loud. Johnny raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Oh, so you want the overtime?”

“S-sure why not? Not like I have anything better to do on a Friday night”

Your friend rubbed his palm over his face, cringing at the situation you got yourself in.

“Please, stop talking, I beg of you”, he murmured, when Johnny spoke up again.

“Well in that case, will you leave me and y/n alone to discuss some details?”

Donghyuck nodded, closing the door behind him and it seemed like he took all the oxygen along with him.

Johnny sat on his desk, whipping out some files for you. It might sound stupid, but the email, though fake, had put you in a certain mood, and having him sit so close to you wasn’t helping your situation.

“I will only give you the run down but please ask the supervisor in your department to explain further”

You tried listening to him talk about your overtime, you really did. But the way he was sitting on his armchair with his legs spread out, was practically begging you to do what Donghyuck had suggested yesterday and get on your knees already. You’d tell him to continue his work, challenge him to try and keep typing on his laptop as you’d palm him through his slacks. You’d wait for him to get a bit impatient, licking him over his clothed cock until it felt like it would rip from the fabric. He was definitely big, and you wondered whether you could take him. You’d put him in your hand and start sucking on the tip, then lick your way down to his base. Maybe he would have to take a call, and you would make it a goal to distract him by fitting him all inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. His little office slut.

“y/n. Get under the desk. Right now.”

His voice brought you out of your daydream but his words triggered another one. It felt like the world around you was shaking. Did he just ask you to get on your knees under the table? Could he read your thoughts? “y/n can’t you feel the earthquake? Get under the desk”

When you realized what was happening, you wished that the earth would just swallow you whole already, taking away the embarrassment with you.

Donghyuck met you outside. He had evacuated the building along with everyone else, happy that the small earthquake got them an extra five minutes of break.

“Did Mr. Suh pick you up in his strong arms like your knight in shining armor and save you?”

“Don’t talk to me I’m still mad at you”

He turned you around to face him, his lips pouting at you cutely and it was really hard to resist his doe eyes.

“I’m sowwyy I was just trying to help you out!”

“Help me out with what?”, you sighed, tuckered out, “he clearly doesn’t want anything more with me”

“Oh yeah? Is that why he hasn’t stopped checking out your ass ever since you left the building with him?”

You turn your head to Johnny’s direction, just in time to see his eyes shift from you and Hyuck to the floor. Maybe your friend was right. Did Johnny actually like you after all but was really just that oblivious to your crush?

“All I’m saying is”, he continues, “that you need to be clearer with him. He is the supervisor of another department than yours, he obviously won’t act out anything unless you give him the green light”

You nodded at him, a feeling of determination coursing through you. His words reverberated in your head until break time, planning out your seduction. You knew that there was no way you would be able to concentrate at work unless you gave it a shot with Johnny, even if it goes terribly wrong. Tomorrow, you promised yourself.

 ——————————————————

 And tomorrow did come, finding you right outside his office door. Taking long, confident strides, you walk past Donghyuck who for once, was speechless, eyes widening at your appearance.

Johnny’s favorite skirt hug your hips, garters barely peeking under it. Your shirt was a bit tighter than usual, an extra button undone, revealing your cleavage. The room was filled with the clicking sound of your high heels, that were as uncomfortable as they were sexy. It was barely considered work appropriate but you didn’t care. You hoped you’d manage to at least grab his attention, then let your talking do the rest.

Taking a deep breath, you knock at the door, slowly opening it. Johnny was typing away something, looking delicious as always. Your voice was way more sensual than you’d usually let it be in the workplace.

“Johnnyy~, good morning. I’m here for that file I need?”

He had his eyes still glued on the laptop in front of him, his tone as bright as ever.

“y/n! I would send Donghyuck over you didn’t have to- “

He finally looks at you, his eyes quickly moving from your chest to your skirt, only to stay for a bit longer on your legs. He seemed a bit taken aback, his breath hitching in his throat but he shakes his head lightly, regaining his stature.

“-you didn’t have to come all the way up here”

“I know”, you mewl, picking up a pen from his desk and clicking it closed, letting the tip rest on your bottom lip, “I just missed you”

You saw him stare at your mouth before he cleared his throat, coolly sitting back on his chair.

“I think you’ll take this back when you stay for your overtime tonight”, he laughed, too friendly for your liking.

“No, no. I would never get tired of you, Johnny. Besides, I have a great stamina”

“That’s good! Being mentally strong is very important in this business”

Ugh, take a hint already!

“Well, yeah, but physical strength is important too. You know, I’ve followed your footsteps and started working out. I can go on for hours”

His eyebrows lifted up at your statement, “Yeah? And you followed my footsteps?”

“Well, everyone in the office has noticed you’ve been hitting the gym lately, especially me. Maybe, you could show me some of your workout exercises later?”

He stayed silent for a moment, like he was contemplating his answer and you swore you saw the faintest blush on his cheeks. His answer, however, would disappoint you.

“I was thinking of organizing an online group aerobics class, actually. I think Yuta from my department might be interested in hosting it”

The feeling of defeat was written all over your face. You were done. Smiling politely, you told him it sounded like a nice idea and asked for the file. You felt so angry at yourself for listening to Hyuck’s advice, every painful jab your heels gave your feet seeming deserving.

Donghyuck saw you leaving the room and would follow you to comfort you but he fully understood your frustration. Since you left the door open, he had witnessed everything, and boy was he furious.

He barged into Johnny’s office unannounced, scowling at him. Boss or not, he had to give him a piece of his mind.

“Are you seriously that blind?”

Johnny blinked at him, surprised at his unexpected appearance.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you seriously telling me you didn’t get that y/n was flirting with you?”

“R-right now?”

Donghyuck licked his cheek with his tongue, getting gradually more and more frustrated. “Yes! Right now! The hottest woman in the office was basically throwing herself all over you and you didn’t even ask her out?”

Johnny was shocked, fumbling for an answer, “I thought- I thought she was just being nice”

“Nice??”, the younger man screeched then took a deep breath to calm down, placing both his hands on his boss’s desk.

“With all due respect dude, but either you fuck her, or I will”

 ———————————————————

 Nothing could make the horrible feeling you felt from your embarrassing incident earlier worse right? Wrong. Because it was Friday and you still had to go through with that overtime you had stupidly agreed with.

All your coworkers from your floor were gone, no one crazy enough to willingly work on a Friday night. You saw them all leave one by one, internally cursing them for their luck. The office was especially hot tonight and you were suddenly glad for choosing that skimpy outfit to wear today, even if it didn’t fulfill its original purpose.

In your deep concentration over the files scattered on your desk, you almost didn’t notice the shadow next to your office’s door. You could recognize these broad shoulders from miles away.

“Johnny, you didn’t go home yet?”

“I’ll leave soon, just wanted to give you some tips your supervisor noted for the work you’ll do tonight”

He smiled warmly at you, but his eyes held something you hadn’t seen before. Slyness, mischief maybe? You didn’t have much time to think about it anyways, because in a moment he was standing over you, next to your desk.

“You see, the loss of this week’s sales…”, he started, lifting the sleeves of his shirt up and revealing his veiny arms that you so adored, “...it’s much bigger than you think”

You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. His voice was deep, seductive, eyes staring right into yours.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yes. Doing all this paperwork, it’s very… hard. And it’s so hot in here, right?”

He kept his gaze on you, loosening the tie he wore around his neck. Was this your mind playing games with you again? You weren’t sure but he looked so good you couldn’t help your body from responding to him.

You got up from your seat, resting the side of your ass on the desk to be closer to his height. “If I got it right, you suggest that maybe you need to stay around for a bit? Help me out?”

He nodded, coming closer to you. You couldn’t stop gawking at the way his chest filled up his shirt so nicely, not caring if you were being obvious anymore. He was standing almost between your legs, and you could feel his breath fanning your face.

“It’s going to be tiring, but if you follow my orders you’ll get to finish. Think you can take it?”

Was it his suggestive words or his plump lips that made you feel so lightheaded? Either way, you wanted to dive in, to finally taste him. But you just had to ask.

“Johnny?”

“That’s my name”

“We aren’t talking about finance, are we?”

He stepped even closer, situating himself between your thighs that you gladly opened for him.

“Fuck no”

The way your hands grabbed him by the neck and pulled him into a kiss, was almost animalistic. Johnny kissed you back with almighty force, open mouthed and breathing heavily. With the dominance that characterized him and a bite on your bottom lip, he pulls you up on your feet by the ID that was hanging from your neck. He tasted like smoke and mint gum.

“I thought you’d quit smoking?”

You felt his right hand grab your throat and he broke the kiss, forcing you to look at him. It wasn’t the pressure to your air flow but his eyes that had you on edge. The usual golden flecks adorning his orbs were hidden behind his dilated pupils. “I’m just a man. There are some things I can’t resist”. He dipped his tongue into your mouth, making you feel like you’re in a fever dream with the way all your fantasies were coming to life. “Open up”, he growled against your lips and you obey like you promised to. He spit in your mouth, in a manner so dirty it had your knees shaking.

You started unbuttoning his shirt, wanting to see more of him. Starting with running your hands over his raging heartbeat, you continue down his abs and end up fumbling with his belt. Johnny helped you, springing out his cock and, damn, he may be half hard but that was the biggest dick you’d ever seen in your life.

He chuckles at your widened eyes but instead of making some cocky remark like you expected he leans down, leaving soothing kisses on your jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you”. He continued his kisses to your neck, all the while unbuttoning your shirt. Leaving it on you, he pulls your boobs over your bra and starts playing with your nipples. The tingling on your breasts was tightly linked it the one on your heat and you decided you needed more.

You took his fingers from your chest and placed them between your folds. Johnny cursed out with how wet you were for him, and started rubbing circles over your clit, occasionally dipping the tips in your entrance. He kept at it, relishing in your moans and he would have ripped his tight little skirt off of you if you were in his bedroom. The build up sexual tension along with the semi-public setting made you close to losing yourself in him. You just needed a push, and Johnny was more than happy to give it to you.

“You’re gonna cum for me. That’s what you wanted wasn’t it? Why you got all dressed up like that?”

“Yes, for you, fuck Johnny”

“Come on, let it all out. Cum so I can fuck the hell out of this tight pussy of yours”

You came all over his fingers, grabbing his arms for support. He gave you a moment, wiping the tears off the corners of your eyes while kissed you slowly. When you started kissing him back with a refuelled passion, signalling that you were ready for what he had to offer, he was back, rougher than ever.

He petted your pussy, collecting your wetness and spreading it all over your folds. You jumped up when you felt him slap over your clit, the lines between pain and pleasure from the overstimulation blurry.

You knew Johnny was strong, but the easiness with which he lifted you from the desk onto your armchair shocked you. Spreading your knees as wide as the cushioned seat allowed you, you stuck your ass out for him. He gave your ass a little slap while you waited for him to slip on a condom. He came prepared, you thought, probably planned on doing this from the moment he stepped into your office.

Johnny filled you up completely, your hypersensitivity making you feel his thickness in all its glory. He started off slow, careful of your tightness, but as he picked up the pace, your vision was all stars and constellations of pleasure. You must have moaned too loudly, because he stopped his thrusts and, in a moment, you felt him shove his tie inside your mouth.

“There’s still some people in the building, remember? Or do you like my cock so much that you don’t even care if they hear?”. You couldn’t muster an answer so you just kept drooling through the fabric your teeth bit into. Your pussy was dripping onto the leather, your wetness allowing Johnny to sink even deeper inside you. The feeling was so overwhelming that you opened your mouth wide in a moan, almost dropping his tie in the process.

You reached out your hand behind you to grab one of his arms in desperation. “I’m so close, so close, don’t stop”. He stared back at you with a crazy look on his face, and pinned your hand back on the headrest in front of you. Lifting one of your legs in the air, he starts fucking you so rough you thought the chair was going to break.

Your second orgasm hit you hard, your trembling body making it clear his size got too much for you. But there was no way you’d let him leave this office without cumming.

You climb down from the chair and got on your knees in front of him. Grasping his cock from the base, you started leaving open mouthed kisses on his balls first. You suck one in your mouth and glance up at him with the most innocent look you could muster, the contrast to your actions driving him insane. Johnny leans his weight on his hands positioned on your desk, letting you work your magic.

Returning on his tip, you ran your tongue in kitten licks on the slit, teasing him. An eyebrow raise from him compelled you to behave, pushing him all the way down at once. It was almost as if you pressed a button at the end of your throat with the way it triggered a guttural moan from him. He weaves one hand through your hair to keep you in place for a second longer and you gag. His dick pulls out, and the string of saliva falls over your white shirt making the fabric look see through. The sight of your lipstick on him, your watery doe eyes and your nipples poking through your now wet shirt was divine. He pushed past your lips again, and this time you made a good use of your tongue. You quicken your pace, his shaky groans and sharp gasps letting you know he was nearing his release.

Grabbing both his flexed thighs, you concentrate your breathing though your nose and deepthroat him again. Johnny growls, hips stuttering and eyes fluttered closed in delight. Warm liquid runs down your throat, almost choking you, but you take it all, relishing in his grunts and the way he moans your name.

After you catch your breath he bends down, planting a gentle kiss on your lips and offers a hand to help you up. You buttoned up in an awkward silence, not exactly sure what should be said after a session like that in a place like this.

“So, I’m guessing Donghyuck told you about my little crush on you?”

“Yup. You should thank him”. He smiles at you sweetly, pinching your cheek lightly and then moving his thumb in circles over the skin. “You also should have told me”

You rolled your eyes, “Not like I haven’t tried to! How much more obvious did I have to be?”

“I’m sorry! It’s just- you’re so pretty and I didn’t wanna be another one of the creepy guys that probably hit on you in the workplace”

Smiling at his thoughtfulness, you chose to forgive him and reached up for another kiss. He engulfs you with his long arms, and you push some hair off his eyes, admiring their softness.

“How about, I let you finish up here and we go for dinner after you’re done?”

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna concentrate after what we did”

“I’ll cover for you, but I can’t promise you that I’ll stop myself from distracting you”

[jungblue]

aphrodite in war | 01

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: comedy, fluff, angst, eventual smut / greek life, fake dating, roommates, lovers to enemies and back to lovers au

word count: 11,022

description: Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle... Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

note: here is an audio post of a beautiful song with lyrics inspired by AiW, which was written by one of my lovely readers!

→ part 02

Hostility bleeds deep. The rivers of resentment collide violently as they carve a divide so saturated in disdain between the parties involved that you don’t even need to be told that there is something more to the story. It doesn’t need to be said out loud, but is just instinctively felt.

You didn’t need to be told that the ominous house at the end of street was sketchy and should be avoided at all cost; you just knew it. You didn’t need to be told that there was bad blood between the guy and girl whose jaws suddenly stiffened as their lips transformed into a firm, straight line when they caught sight of each other at a party; you just knew it — And you most certainly didn’t need to be told that there was an absolute war brewing at the end of Greek Drive between the Tri Delts and Lambdas; you just fucking knew it.

In the beginning, their rivalry was small. It was simple antics such as egging each other’s houses or fucking around with the letters that they so proudly displayed on their lawns. But then it turned a bit more intense. Egging the houses turned into spray-painting them and fucking with the letters on their lawns turned into completely trashing each other’s lawns. It was because of this that the once harmless pranks turned infamous. Everything that happened between their houses had constantly been circulated around campus for the past two years, or at the very least among their Greek counterparts… Which was probably how the two newly inducted presidents of Delta Delta Delta and Lambda Phi Epsilon, on the very first week of their final year in college, found themselves sitting in the office of a much higher power than their own titles — The president of their university; a single word spilling past his lips that had their stomachs twisting.

“Suspension!?” They both yelled in disbelief.

It was a word no organization wanted to hear. It branded your chapters with a shame that would be painted across the local news stations and even across the country. The lines would blur, only to lump them in with those terrible hazing stories that constantly flooded the media.

“P-president Kwon,” Jungkook finally stuttered out after a moment of coming to terms with the seriousness of the situation they were being faced with. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise the very... minor pranks that go on between our houses are probably much less problematic than what you’re thinking.”

“Mr. Jeon, do you think that we would threaten something of such dramatic action without several instances of confirmed proof?” President Kwon asked in a clipped tone as he leaned forward in his chair.

You could see the way that Jungkook blanched next to you, clearly not expecting this harsh treatment from President Kwon. Lambda Phi Epsilon happened to be President Kwon’s former fraternity, so it was well known that there was a good relationship there. However, in this moment you could make out nothing except for a glaring, red warning shining off the president’s ice-cold eyes.  

“I — no, sir,” Jungkook whispered, dropping his head slightly to hide the sudden flush of red that was rushing to his face.

“It is more embarrassing than I can possibly describe to the two of you, receiving dozens upon dozens of phone calls and emails over the incidents involving your organizations. Garbage littering every inch of your front yards, obscene images drawn onto your houses, several instances of animal control having to be called due to rodents being set free in the house as a… as a prank? All of this is happening while visits from prospective students and their parents are being conducted. Donors who help this school are wandering the campus and seeing it. Tell me, did the incidents I just mentioned not actually transpire, Mr. Jeon? Ms. Y/L/N?”

The air was so stiff that you barely managed a shaky inhale in order to respond to the juvenile antics being laid out before you. “No, th-they did transpire, sir. And I don’t know what to say besides that I’m so, so sorry that we’ve embarrassed the university this way.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, President Kwon’s relentless glare of disappointment cutting you through and through.

“Yes, so completely sorry,” Jungkook added.

Nothing was said for a few moments after that. It seemed President Kwon wanted to make the two of you squirm for everything that you had done, and it was definitely working. Every movement made you feel self-conscious, the judgement permeating the office air felt as if it were sticking to your skin.

“I know that what we’ve done is completely unacceptable, President Kwon,” You began, not being able to take the silence anymore. “But I promise if you give us just one more chance, we’ll clean up our acts. No more pranks, just cordial neighbors. As the new presidents of our chapters this year, we’ll make sure the members understand that this behavior isn’t something that will be tolerated anymore.”

Jungkook was nodding his head next to you in agreeance. But once again the room was plunged into silence. It was honestly torture, sitting there under such scrutiny as someone held something so dear to you in the palm of their hand. It would break your heart if the suspension actually went through… Considering it was yours and Jungkook’s fault that tensions had gotten to where they were in the first place. The bad blood between the two of you had seeped into the minds of your members as well, which was ultimately how it got so ugly. But it had gotten especially bad this year now that you were the respective presidents of each of your houses and had allowed things to escalate further. Harsh feelings between two people couldn’t do much damage, but when it was dozens versus dozens, well that was when things got messy.

Eventually though you found yourself being pulled back to reality. President Kwon cleared his throat, the sound making your heart stutter in your chest as you prepared yourself for the worst.

“You’re exactly right. It won’t be tolerated any longer.” He paused for a moment, probably for the added effect of letting anxiety seize its way around your lungs. “Probation for the next three months. One more incident and it’s over. Do you understand?”

At that there was a simultaneous sigh of relief from you and Jungkook as the looming consequence faded… At least for now.

“Thank you so much, President Kwon.” Jungkook stood from his chair, reaching across the table to shake his hand. “I promise we won’t mess this up.”

You lifted yourself up from your chair as well, following his lead. “Yes, we promise.”

“I hope that’s true,” Is all President Kwon responded with as he led the two of you towards the door of his office. “Take care.”

With rather mumbled and rushed goodbyes you exited his office, the two of you shuffling quickly down the hallway until you were sure you were out of earshot. Both of you stopped as you turned the corner, insults already resting on the tips of your tongues.

“This is all your fucking fault!” You yelled in a hushed whisper.

“My fault!?” He whispered back, equally as intense. “You’re the one who started this shit, Y/N. No one would even be fighting if you hadn’t opened your mouth to your friends.”

“I was just venting to them! I had no idea that they would go and actually do something about it. And it was a harmless prank. They planted fucking flowers in front of your house for god’s sake, and your loser friends retaliated by digging holes in our yard. You guys are the ones who escalated it, and now it’s this out of control thing that’s going to get our chapters suspended!” Your chest was rising and falling, anger boiling inside of your blood. You had never even partaken in any of the antics that had gone on between the two houses nor had you baited any of your members into participating.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, tongue pressing at the inside of his cheek. “You know what? It’s whatever. We’ve been arguing about this for two years now, so I’m not expecting you to be reasonable any time soon.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, the painful reminder of how long this had been going on searing a deep cut across your chest. But it was like Jungkook had said, this had been going on for a long time and there was no point in arguing about who was right, because it wasn’t as if it actually mattered. So instead, you just didn’t respond. You stared at him for a moment, sneer fading into this sad downward turn of your lips. And surprisingly you watched the way his expression softened as well. His brows were furrowing a little less, his jaw not as hard and brooding.

You gave him a tiny nod before you turned away and headed towards the exit. It was a few seconds before you heard his footsteps start to follow you. Every time his sneakers would squeak against the linoleum floor behind you, it felt like this tiny pressure was beginning to build at the base of your throat. You weren’t sure why you still got these feelings of… longing, even after all of this passed time. It was pathetic. Jungkook apparently didn’t long for anything from back then, so why did you?

Eventually you were able to breathe a little clearer once you pushed your way through the exit and away from the tight and tense space of faculty meetings and suspension threats. The fresh air filled your rattled lungs — too bad it was murky and humid beneath the gray storm clouds that were currently drowning the campus in a depressing drizzle.

“Goddammit,” You muttered beneath your breath.

You didn’t drive here since this building had been so close to your last class of the day. The Tri Delt house was about a ten minute walk from here, so it looked like you needed to get going before the light sprinkle of rain turned into a thunderstorm. You were about to step out from underneath the overhead of the roof and down the steps when you felt a light tug of someone pulling at the back of the belt loop on your jeans. 

“Do you need a ride?” Jungkook asked before you had even turned around to fully face him. His expression was neutral. It didn’t seem annoyed or concerned, but he had always been good at hiding his emotions like that.  

Of course you didn’t want to walk home in the rain, but sitting in a confined space with Jungkook after you’d both just gotten done yelling at one another didn’t seem like the greatest time either. But in the end, you decided that a few minutes wouldn’t kill you. “Yeah, I guess,” You whispered, motioning for him to go ahead so you could follow. His car was parked in one of the first spots at the bottom of the steps. You were both silent as you opened the doors and climbed inside.

It was weird. You hadn’t been in Jungkook’s car in years. You watched him pull out of the parking space, one hand on the wheel, the other leaning against the center console. It felt all too familiar. You blew a heady sigh past your lips, hands wringing in your lap. It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed, the tension between you and him never seemed to lessen. It was a constant, palpable stiffness in the air.

“Do you think we’ll be able to get them to stop fighting?” Jungkook finally asked once they turned onto Greek Drive, giving some mild relief to the strain that the two of you were so highly aware of.

“If suspension doesn’t do it, then I honestly don’t know what would.”

He nodded, seeming to agree. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll cut it out.”

“Yeah, they can’t be that dumb—” However, your words seemed to disintegrate along your tongue as the car approached the Lambda and Tri Delt houses that stood side by side.

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook muttered, pulling into the driveway which currently had a Lambda named Jimin running down it towards his truck that was completely covered in saran-wrap and a laughing Tri Delt named Joy who was holding said saran-wrap.

“Get back here and take this shit off my truck right now!” You heard Jimin yell.

“Nope, I’m good.” She smiled, shrugging and taunting him as she jogged away.

“This… This might be harder than we thought,” You said.

Jungkook rested his head against the steering wheel, eyes closed. “Yeah, way fucking harder.”

---------

It was several mass group texts later, demanding that every Lambda and Tri Delt come to their houses immediately, that all forty-two members of the combined organizations who actually lived in-house finally arrived… Yeah, there was no way that this could go terribly wrong or anything… Right?

You and Jungkook stood in front of the members as they gathered on the grassy area that separated your two houses. As expected there were dozens of mumbled conversations transpiring, all speculating on what the hell was going on here. You looked to Jungkook, giving him a nod to tell him that they should start.

He cleared his throat, clapping his hands together, resulting in large boom that got everyone’s attention. “All right, listen up. We have something important we need to discuss.”

“Jungkook, why the hell are the Tri Delts here?” A Lambda named Yuta yelled out.

“Because we can be, asshole.” It was Jennie.

“Who’re you calling an asshole?” Taehyung asked, even though he had nothing to do with it.

“Your dickhead friend,” Sana responded, again even though it had nothing to do with her.

And then Chanyeol chimed in, followed by Momo, which then got escalated by Johnny and continued by Dahyun. After that you lost track of who was arguing because it just became a giant clusterfuck of people yelling and this was the perfect example of how this entire war started — people getting involved in the business of others that didn’t even concern them.

You started rubbing at your temples, fingernails digging into your palms. This was enough. “Shut the fuck up!” You yelled, a loud echo that reverberated through the air and hushed everyone into silence. “This is why you’re all here.” You motioned towards them.

“What do you mean?” Someone asked from the back. “What’s going on?”

“Me and Y/N had a meeting with President Kwon today,” Jungkook paused, releasing a deep sigh before continuing. “He said that if we all keep publicly fighting the way we have been… that our chapters will get suspended.” 

There was a small pause, as if it didn’t immediately click with everyone what had been said — and then the panic set in. 

“What?!”

“No fucking way!”

“He can’t be serious!”

“That’s bullshit!” 

“This is just another prank, right?!” 

Having forty-two people publicly shouting expletives, wasn’t the best start to this image reset that President Kwon wanted, but there was no way either of the chapters would have been okay with the other house coming into their own, so this little outdoor set-up was the best option they had. 

You and Jungkook sort of just stood there for a moment, letting the members get their gut-reactions out. Then he turned to you, motioning towards the mob of angry Greek lifers. “You were always better at yelling than me. You wanna quiet them down?” He smirked, a jab that had you clenching your teeth. 

“Great way to start off this so called peace treaty, but sure, I’ll gladly calm them down and get straight to the point. I wouldn’t want to let them drown in their own heads without knowing what’s going on because someone won’t just be upfront.” You stared him straight in the eyes, making sure he got your double meaning since he wanted to play dirty and bring up the past. He simply clenched his jaw and averted his gaze back to the crowd of hysterics laid out before them. 

“Quiet down and we’ll explain.” You yelled as loud as you could, hoping it would reach everyone so that the chatter would die down quickly. Luckily it seemed they were all on the verge of a mental breakdown and needed answers, so the volume was almost instantly brought down to a hush. All eyes were now on you. “To make things simple, President Kwon thinks that our little prank war or whatever the hell you want to call it, has brought too much negative attention to the school. Visiting students and their parents, donors, and apparently a lot of other people have noticed all of the antics that we pull on each other, and they don’t like it.” You paused, gauging the reactions, but everyone was just frozen in place, waiting for more details. “He put both of our houses on three months of probation and said that if we don’t clean up our acts and stop with all of this petty bullshit that he would suspend our chapters. So, really it’s that easy. We just have to let this feud die down...” You paused, not wanting to say what you were going to say next, but you thought that it would be the best way to diffuse the situation. “And I know that it was the venting of my personal feelings that started this entire thing, so I wanted to say… I’m sorry for causing it.” You didn’t look towards Jungkook, but you could feel his stare burning into the side of your face. You didn’t want to see his expression. Didn’t want to see the smugness or whatever the hell he was feeling towards this forced public apology. You were about to continue, but before you could, a high-pitched voice cut in. 

“No, why are you apologizing?” Sana said, stepping past the front lines of the two groups. “It is not your fault.” She shot a glare towards Jungkook who simply rolled his eyes and kept his stare straight ahead. 

Then it was Jennie pushing to the front to join in on your defense. “She’s right, Y/N. It’s not your fault. We’re the ones who planted the flowers as a joke. Even though it was a harmless joke,” She turned towards the Lambda boys, venom coating her words, “that made their trashy house look a little bit nicer. Yet, they had to escalate it into something else.”

Oh, this was not good.

Jimin broke through the front line for the Lambdas, a scowl etched across his face. “It’s not the issue of what you did. It’s the fact that back then you blindly fucked with the house that all of the guys lived in, not only Jungkook, just because of Y/N being upset over their relationship — which, he did nothing wrong since you wanna start glaring at people for no fucking reason Sana.” 

It was this violent concoction of anger and sadness colliding inside of your stomach that had you simultaneously fighting back the urge to bite off Jimin’s head or crying pathetically in front of everyone. 

Multiple people were stepping to the front of their groups now, various arguments splintering off as people began defending the heads of their respective houses. Y/N this, Jungkook that. You stared at the second story of the Tri Delt house, focusing in on the bedroom window all the way to the right (your bedroom), so that your hearing would blur out. You didn’t want to listen to these arguments any more, but you also didn’t have the energy to both somehow defend yourself while also admitting that Jungkook’s feelings from back then were also valid. So you stood there, eyes glazing over at the sight of the room where this entire feud spawned from. Though, maybe that wasn’t exactly correct. According to Jungkook it had started in no particular place and at no particular time that he could actually pinpoint. That was just the place where it had all finally been verbalized. 

You weren’t sure how long you zoned out for, just reminiscing on the conversation from that night, but it was Jungkook’s voice thundering through the air that halted everyone’s arguments once again, along with your torturous thoughts. 

“All of you just fucking stop!” He yelled. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is or how it started. If we keep doing this we’re gonna get our chapters suspended. Do you guys want that?” There was an awkward moment of silence where everyone was just sort of looking around at one another before the members finally grumbled a unanimous ‘no.’ “Okay, so then you guys are just gonna have to get over this bullshit, just like how me and Y/N are,” Jungkook paused, one brow arched as he turned to face you. “Right?”

You felt your face heat up as you clamped your teeth down onto the inside of your cheek. “…Right.”

“Good.” Jungkook smiled, seeming very happy with himself for getting that out of you — smug asshole. He turned back to face all of the members, clapping his hands together before saying something that caused the entire group to erupt into hysterics. “Now, apologize to each other.”

“Fuck that!” Someone screeched from the back. “Baek let the air out of my tires last year. I was late for my final.” 

“Because you put a pair of panties in my car and my girlfriend thought I was cheating on her!” 

“You probably were!”

Everyone was screaming and calling out various incidents, saying there was no way in hell they were ever going to apologize. 

“Fine! Fucking fine!” Jungkook cut in immediately before it could devolve again. “How about if me and Y/N just apologize to each other and it’ll count for the rest of you? And then this war is dead. Sound fair?” 

No one said anything concrete in response, just unintelligible grumbles rippling through the crowd. Jungkook apparently took this as an okay, because he was suddenly turning toward you. “Alright, you go first.” 

You scoffed. “I’m not apologizing first. It wasn’t even my idea. Besides I already apologized to everyone earlier.”

“It wasn’t an apology to me though.” 

“I don’t think I owe you an apology.” You shrugged. “I apologized for my friends fucking with your house. What else do I need to apologize for?” 

He just looked at you, with those eyes that were unreadable. Though you could see a slight shift, as though there truly was something that he wanted you to apologize for from back then, but he could tell that you weren’t going to back down, so he went for something that cut deep as punishment. 

He huffed in annoyance. “Fine, if you wanna be like that. I’m sorry that I broke up with you, Y/N.”

Your entire body flared with anger that had a pool of sweat instantly swelling at your hairline. You stepped closer to him, only a foot of space between you, but he didn’t back down and you weren’t going to either. “And I’m sorry I wasted three years of my life with a lying, cheating piece of shit!” 

His eyes went wide. The word that never failed to strike a nerve whenever this argument was brought back under the light. His response was quiet but firm, everyone, all forty-two members watching in silence. “I never cheated on you, but if you want to think that just so I can be the bad guy in your head, fine.” 

His final word felt like a sharp cut across your chest, but you stood firm, not backing down. You didn’t break eye contact with him as you voiced your final sentiment to the two groups of warring Greeks. “I don’t care whose side you guys fall on when it comes to this overblown drama between me and Jungkook. The fighting, the pranks, all of it, it’s over.” 

“Agreed.” Jungkook bit out before turning and walking towards the Lambda house, a silent command for his Brothers to do the same. 

You didn’t stand there for a single second longer and began walking toward your own house, your fellow Sisters following. Your best friends, Sana and Jennie, instantly threw their arms around your shoulders. “Vodka?” The universal distraction from all things awful in life. 

You shook your head. “Tequila.” The universal eraser to all things awful in life. “Lots of tequila.”

 ——-

“He’s lucky that we’re in a truce now or I would’ve thought up something diabolical for his arrogant ass,” Jennie said as she dusted some blush on her cheeks. 

“I know right, ugh!” Sana made a disgusted sound as she handed you the necklace she was letting you borrow for the night. “Telling you to apologize first. Like fuck you. You haven’t even done anything.”

You simply sighed, jumping to get your jeans past your thighs. “It’s fine guys. As long as no more issues pop up we can just ignore them and act like none of this ever happened.” 

“I know, I know, but it just pisses me off that they always bring your name into the argument. Like you didn’t tell us to go and mess with them. We did it ourselves, and sure, looking back on it now we shouldn’t have done it — even though they were some nice fucking flowers — but regardless, they pushed it to another level.” Sana let out a final huff as she hopefully released the last of her ranting for the night. 

“The point of the tequila,” You said as you filled three shot glasses, several wedges of lime waiting beside them, “Is to forget the problems. Not continue thinking about them.” 

Sana snapped her fingers and pointed at you with a smile as she picked up her shot. “You know what, you’re right. Fuck the Lambdas. They no longer exist. In my head we live next to a vacant patch of grass.” 

“Exactly.” Jennie picked up her glass, leaving the final one for you. “Cheers to no longer having to deal with the house that must not be named.”

The three of you let out a little cheer before clinking your glasses together and forcing your bodies through the post-shot shivers that followed. 

After the front yard meeting fiasco you knew immediately you would be going out. However, it had still been quite early, so you, Sana, and Jennie decided to indulge in several glasses of wine to bide the time before it was late enough to feel like an appropriate time to be downing shots. Tequila at six in the afternoon, even on a Friday, just didn’t feel right, so alcohol juice it had been. Though, the warm feeling that was already radiating through your legs as you walked over to the mirror to do one last once over of your outfit indicated that the so called alcohol juice had done its job as the pre-game to the actual hard liquor pre-game a little too well. 

“Okay, I’m only opting for one more round while we’re here or else we will be having a repeat of St. Patrick’s Day.” Too many green beers that day. Too many. 

“Senior year wisdom.” Jennie placed her hand over her heart. “Our freshman year brains would never.” 

“Our freshman year brains didn’t have an aversion to six different types of alcohol yet.” You laughed as you motioned to take the next round of shots. “And I would like to still be able to look at a bottle of tequila without going into a full-body sweat after tonight, so we’re pacing ourselves.” 

“Oh, Fireball. The days when I could still drink you were so simple.” Sana grabbed her face and grimaced as if Fireball was a long lost god, while you audibly gagged from the name of the cinnamon flavored whiskey alone. 

“Sana, stop. You know Y/N can’t even look at a churro anymore without looking like she’s gonna yak everywhere like a dog.” 

I faked a sniffle. “God, I miss being able to eat churros.” Cinnamon was now inedible to you thanks to your now forever connection between the delectable spice and the previously mentioned unspeakable liquor. A break up that rivaled that of yours and Jungkook’s. 

“Uber’s gonna be here in three minutes,” Jennie said as she returned to your bedside table to grab her shot glass once again. 

The three of you raised your glasses together with a clink. “Let’s fuck it up.” 

——----

The bar right next to your college, simply referred to as “Pub,” was a weird place to be on the first Friday of the new semester. It was a mix of underage freshman trying to slyly sip at their alcohol while attempting to hide the X’s marked on their hands, and of age students that felt a little too old to be at Pub, but who could argue with free drinks for girls until midnight? Definitely not you, Sana, or Jennie. 

The three of you found your temporary home at the tables on the deck right outside of the entrance, the fresh air much preferable to the stuffy atmosphere of the dance floor that you would soon find yourself on given the right song choice to send you flying through the door. 

You watched as Sana shimmied through the crowd of people to return to your table, three tiny plastic cups in hand. “You get a vodka Sprite, you get a vodka Sprite, and I get a vodka Sprite!” She yelled as she set the cups down on the table. 

You laughed. “People may call that basic, but we still get drunk and don’t have to drink Jack and fucking Coke.”

“The Devil’s combo.” Jennie sipped her drink. “You see a guy drinking that: run. He thinks he’s so fucking cool.” 

Sana raised her plastic cup. “Cheers to the truth.” 

“Cheers,” You all agreed collectively. 

“But speaking of guys who don’t drink Jack and Coke, I ran into Namjoon when I went to the bathroom a minute ago.” A blush crept across Jennie’s cheeks. 

“Are you finally gonna see if he’s interested? He’s not your TA anymore, so it’s not sketchy.” 

Jennie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s weird. He seems so uninterested that it’s intimidating. Like I’ve imagined thirty-seven different scenarios for our first date and he’s only like ‘Hi, Jennie. Bye, Jennie.” 

You and Sana couldn’t help but laugh, however, the amusement was cut short by a decently sized group of familiar males. 

“Fuck me,” You said under your breath, which was enough for Jennie to turn around and see the pack of Lambda boys climbing the wooden steps onto the deck of the bar, Jungkook leading the way. 

“You try to forget your problems and they just walk in on two legs.” Sana groaned. “It’s rude really.” 

The group got caught in the line to get into the bar, which unfortunately left them idling uncomfortably close to your table, and of course something had to be said. 

Jimin glanced down at them sitting, a fake grin plastered to his mouth. “If it isn’t our cordial neighbors.” 

Jennie snapped her head up to look at him, mirroring his forced smile. “Cordial can also mean that we’re pretending you don’t exist. In fact, we no longer acknowledge that we even have neighbors.” 

“That’s fantastic, actually. It means I can forget that awful blowjob you gave me freshman year even happened.” 

Jennie’s jaw clenched for all of a millisecond before responding. “Awful? Say that to my untouched vagina after you came in sixty seconds. Though again, we’re pretending you don’t exist, so I guess I can forget the most underwhelming sexual experience of my life. Thanks, Jimin.” She turned back to you and Sana, not sparing a second glance as if she’d simply given someone directions to the nearest Denny’s. 

But Jimin wasn’t through. “That’s not what happened—”

You could see in your friend’s face she was already squaring up another jab, and as much as you found it entertaining you knew it was setting a bad example. 

“Jennie,” You said at the same time that Jungkook sighed “Jimin.”

You both looked at each other, a silent message of gratefulness passing between the two of you at trying to actually make this work. 

“Guys, neither of us want to get our chapters suspended. If ignoring each other is the best route, do that, or maybe even be friends. Whatever results in no fuckery between our houses, okay?” You reminded them of what was at stake here and everyone nodded, letting any planned animosity fall away as the line to get into the bar began to move. 

You tilted your head, watching as Jungkook’s back disappeared into the building, his eyes crinkling as he smiled brightly at some girl who noticed him the second he made it past the threshold. 

Again, that stupid feeling of longing for something that was clearly dead and gone. But you didn’t want to get too down, so before you could spiral too far you turned back towards your friends. “So did he really last sixty seconds?” 

“No,” Jennie smiled, “But I definitely still have the texts of him telling me the next day it was the best suck of his life. He’s the one that lied first, so I get to bend the truth too.”

“Freshman year is so weird to think about. Everyone was actually friendly. Jennie and Jimin might be dating right now if it wasn’t for our little war.” Sana laughed as she batted the napkin away that Jennie tossed at her. 

“Absolutely not. I want someone like Namjoon, who’s smart and respectful. Not Jimin, who… who…” She trailed off simply finishing her thought with a wordless grimace. 

Jennie said that, but you knew it wasn’t exactly true. You remembered very well when Jennie and Jimin were involved and she actually seemed to enjoy the Lambda’s presence quite a bit. But then things went to shit the summer after your freshman year was over, and well, this was the reality now. Snide comments at every passing instead of mutual invites to beach days. 

You were beginning to let a little slideshow of memories from that first year cloud your head when a song that already had you lifting out of your chair clamored inside the bar. “We dance till dawn!” You pulled your friends by their arms through the entrance, waving your wristbands at the bouncer before pushing your way to the middle of the dance floor. 

“Drinks!” Jennie beamed, remembering that they had finished the others outside. “I’ll be back!” She yelled over the music, pointing towards the bar. 

You and Sana gave her a thumbs up as you began to dance together, singing the lyrics so loud your throats would certainly punish you by night’s end. But you didn’t care. Today had been absolutely disastrous, ripping up old wounds that you wished would just stay permanently beneath their flimsy bandaid, so you were thankful for this music that was blaring so loud that thoughts weren’t even an option, the alcohol that was so potent you could barely remember Jungkook’s smug face from the house meeting today, and your friends that allowed you to be this happy on days this bad. 

A few songs passed and you and Sana were still dancing and getting so hyped up by every new spin that it took you a second to remember that Jennie definitely should’ve been back by now. You looked around, only to find a sight that made you let out a slight scream that was completely concealed by the music. You tapped Sana and began pointing towards the bar. She turned and immediately mirrored your excitement. 

Namjoon was leaning into Jennie at the bar, whispering something into her ear and you could see her smiling, redness once again blooming on her face. In your drunkenness you pulled out your phone and snapped severa blurry pictures, which were sure to be a great topic of discussion in the group chat tomorrow. You watched Jennie nod her head, smiling and pointing to the three drinks in her hand, and then she started back towards where you were. 

“Bitch, the drinks could’ve waited!” You tried to say over the music. “Go back and talk to him.” 

Jennie actually looked giddy as she handed over the drinks to you and Sana. “I am. He’s leaving soon though, but he asked if I wanted to grab something to eat with him at the diner down the street.” 

Sana jumped up and down in excitement. “So he basically asked you to marry him? Got it.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s totally gonna propose to me over my omelette.” She joked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Are you guys okay if I go?” 

“Of course, but I will be checking your location in fifteen minutes and if you are not at that diner I will hunt Namjoon’s ass down in two seconds,” You warned. “—Except if you decide you wanna skip the diner and go straight to fucking that’s cool too, just let us know.” 

Jennie threw out another giddy expression at the thought. “I’ll text you guys. Love you!” She said,  kissing her hand and throwing it out to you as she weaved back towards where Namjoon was waiting for her at the bar. 

“Fuck Disney,” You shouted to Sana. “Dreams come true at Pub too.”

She bent over, laughing as she tried to sip her drink. “Ugh, if only we could be that lucky. I’ve never had a TA even close to that hot.”

“Same, but maybe we’ll find something else tonight.” You motioned toward the back where you could see some of the soccer players hanging out. You eyed Jung Hoseok. The two of you had hooked up a few times last year, and getting laid would be a perfect ending to this bad to actually decent day. 

“Oh, I see.” Sana wiggled her brows, giving a knowing look. “Let’s go bump into them.” She grabbed your hand and began leading you through the crowd until you reached the area that the soccer players were idly standing around and sipping their drinks. You started a conversation about something random right behind Hoseok, and it was only a minute or so before he turned around and noticed the two of you. 

“Oh, look who it is.” He smiled, hugging you. “Been a while.” 

“I know your summer must’ve been so dull without me,” You flirted, sipping at your drink. 

“No question.” He leaned back against the wall, pulling you by the waist so you weren’t halfway on the dance floor and constantly being bumped into. Sana noticed the gesture and took that as her cue to let things simmer between you and Hoseok. 

“Y/N, I see Nayeon and Joy over there.” She pointed towards the other corner of the bar, where you saw the two Tri Delts mingling. “I’m gonna go over there, okay?” 

“Sounds good.” 

She leaned into your ear, whispering, “If you wanna go home with him just text me. I’ll catch a ride with them on the way back to the house.” 

“I’m ninety-five percent sure I will, but I’ll text you to make sure,” You whispered back. 

She squeezed your shoulder before pulling back. “Take care of her Jung. I’ve heard you’re very good at that.” Sana smiled like a tiny devil before running through the crowd, leaving you slightly slack-jawed. 

You bit your lip, a small warmth creeping into our face. “Please, ignore that,” You bit through an awkward laugh. 

“Why’re you embarrassed?” He smiled, shrugging before leaning next to your ear. “I mean I have taken care of you every single time we’ve been together, right?” 

His breath was hot against the side of your face, leaving you tingling. You lifted your hand, cupping his jaw as you pulled him back to look him in the face. “You can’t say things like that to me when we’re in a bar and you can’t do anything about it.” 

He smiled, eyes drifting to your mouth. “I mean we could always leave. It’s almost closing time anyways.” 

You smiled. “One more drink, after I finish this one.” 

“Perfect.” He leaned in, gave you a small peck on the lips before ruffling your hair a little and turning to say something to his friend. Presumably it was something about him getting laid tonight, which was exactly the same conversation you were about to have with your friend. 

You: the hookup is secure 

Sana: quick work. i’m proud 

Sana: joy and nayeon said that lisa is sick in the bathroom and they’re about to take her back to the house, so i was just going to catch a ride with them if you’re going with hoseok. sound good? 

You: oh really? i hope she’s okay. make sure she gets water at home. and yes i’ll be fine. we were gonna have one last drink and then go. i’ll text you when i make it to his place

Sana: sounds good. love you!

You slipped your phone back into your pocket after returning the sentiment. 

“Everything good?” Hoseok asked. 

“Yeah, one of our friends is sick so Sana was just letting me know she was gonna go home with her.” 

“Damn,” Hoseok tsked, jokingly.  “Does that mean I’m stuck with you for the night?” 

“It would seem so.” You smiled, and then he pulled you beneath his arm and adjusted the backwards cap on his head. 

“You know, I’m all for just fucking or whatever, but you’re really never gonna say yes to a date, are you?” 

You paused before answering, remembering that time last year that he’d asked about actually taking you out to dinner. You had thought about it, but in the end you just decided you had no desire to even slightly pivot in the direction of being any more than friends with benefits with someone. Though, if anyone were able to sway you away from that mindset after Jungkook, it would be Hoseok, but just not yet.

“If I let you take me to Steak n’ Shake after this, will that suffice?” You giggled at the way he rolled his eyes while still smiling. 

“I have leftovers in my fridge better than the food from there, so I’ll let you have that.” He paused, a slight glimmer filling his eyes. “Maybe I’ll light a candle, make it romantic, sort of like a date.” 

Your skin prickled slightly at the mention of the candle, a call back to one of their more… unconventional hook ups from last year.

“Is candle wax being melted onto my naked body and drunkenness really a good mix?” You asked, even though it had been one of the best feelings you had ever experienced. 

“Not that drunk, but it could always wait until the morning.” 

You tapped your finger to your lips as if you were pondering it. “Let me get my last drink and I’ll let you know my answer.” 

“I have a tab open.” He motioned towards the bar. “Just get it on mine.” 

“Thanks,” You said, even though you planned to pay for it yourself. Random guys you didn’t mind hustling a few free drinks from, but not guys you were actually sort of friends with. 

You walked up to the bartender. “Vodka Sprite,” You said over the thumping music. He nodded and then stepped to the left and made your drink. He handed it to you as you slipped him your credit card, motioning to close the tab out. 

You were already halfway done with sipping on the drink when the bartender returned a slight look of awkwardness on his face. “Uh, it declined.” 

Your brows furrowed. Your financial aid refund for school had definitely been deposited into your bank account. You knew this because you had jumped for joy when it hit and you were finally able to return to the sanctuary that is no-ads Hulu. There was enough to cover your dues for staying in the Tri Delt house this semester, so there should certainly have been enough to cover a four dollar drink. You were pondering what to do, maybe just put it on Hoseok’s tab like he said you could. It was probably just your actual bank having issues and it would sort itself out in the morning anyways. You were just about to say to put it on his tab when someone slid their muscled bicep right in front of your face with a credit card in hand. 

You knew that it was pathetic that you knew exactly who that bicep belonged to before he even turned to look at your face, black strands of hair hanging over his forehead.

“I got it,” Jungkook said to the bartender. 

“Why’d you do that?” You asked. 

“Because I was right behind you and heard him, and I know how embarrassed you get about things like that.” He shrugged, grabbing the paper and pen that the bartender slid back towards him. 

He was right. You had terrible secondhand embarrassment, let alone actual first hand embarrassment. “Well… thanks. I don’t know why it did that. I got my refund already.” 

“Just check your bank account. If the money’s in there then the bank system is probably just fucked up right now.” 

“Yeah…” You slid your phone out of your pocket and immediately went to your banking app and pressed your fingerprint down onto the login. You waited a few seconds, and when your balance appeared on the screen, you felt your heart drop. “What in the actual fuck?” You said, staring at your bank account with a whopping dollar and twenty cent in it. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, brows furrowed as he rounded to your side to look at your screen to see the low number that was not at all what it was yesterday. “I thought you said you got your refund?” 

You were shaking your head. “I… I did. I don’t know what the hell happened. Oh my god, I’m gonna freak the fuck out. I have to pay my housing cost for Tri-Delt with that money. Like what the fuck is going on—”

You felt Jungkook’s on your back, rubbing light circles. “Just breathe.” You stiffened at the touch, but didn’t try to pull away. “It’s probably just a financial aid fuck up. Call them tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

You knew that he was probably right, but a creeping feeling was telling you otherwise. This was your fourth year in college dealing with the same exact scholarships every single semester and this had never happened before. 

“Fuck.” You brought your hands up to push at either of your temples. “That really just fucked up my whole mood. I’m not even horny anymore—” You cringed, realizing what you just said. “Please, just ignore me I’m drunk.” You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to see the expression he’d made at your admission. 

“What’re you doing now? Where’s Sana and Jennie?” He asked, ignoring your flub and finally lowering his hand from your back. 

“They’re not here. Jennie left earlier and I told Sana I was gonna go home with… Hoseok, but now I just wanna go lay in bed by myself so I can spiral into every negative possibility of why my bank account looks like that.” 

“It’s gonna be fine.” This time he placed his hand on the back of your neck, cupping it slightly. It was a motion that had always for some reason calmed you down when things got overwhelming. It seemed he remembered. But even though you appreciated the comfort, the feeling of his hand there made something in your stomach flutter — that stupid feeling of longing seriously needed it’s wings shredded. You gripped his forearm, pulling it away from you, and you saw something shift in his eyes as you did so. 

“I guess I’m gonna go tell Hoseok that I’m just gonna go home—” But then you suddenly remembered something. “Fuck! I can’t Uber because I don’t have any money on my card.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This day was so bad and then actually pretty good, only to turn out fucking awful.” 

There was a couple of seconds of silence between the two of you, but you kept your eyes closed, trying to clear the fog in your head from all the alcohol to figure out what you were going to do. However, Jungkook finally let out a sigh before speaking. “Come on.”

“What?” You asked.

“All of these people are trying to get out of here at once and they’re ordering Uber’s at the same time.” He flashed his phone screen, showing that it was not only almost closing time, but that the next driver wouldn’t be available for thirty-two minutes with everyone having already ordered their rides. “It’s a twenty minute walk back to your house. I’ll just walk you there.” 

Even though Jungkook was currently the president of the Lambdas, he actually decided not to live in the frat house this year and instead opted for a cheaper apartment that was still near campus. You and Jungkook both relied on scholarships to pay for most of your schooling,  and fraternity and sorority dues on their own were not cheap, and living on Greek Drive only made that burden a million times worse. 

But the point was that Jungkook had no need to go to campus because he lived in a completely different direction now.

“You don’t even live there anymore. How’re you gonna get home?” You asked. 

“I’ll just sleep on the couch and get Tae or Jimin to drive me to my place in the morning.” He shrugged. 

You weren’t exactly keen on the idea of having to walk all the way back to campus with Jungkook,  considering just a five minute car ride earlier in the day had been sufficiently awkward all on its own. But you also were unfortunately no longer in the mood for sex, leaving Hoseok’s house out of the picture, and your bank account was for some reason drained, which resulted in you only having one option really. 

“Alright,” You finally said. “Just let me tell Hoseok and then we can go.” 

He nodded as you walked back towards the group of soccer players, tapping Hoseok on the shoulder. It seemed your dismay was painted plainly on your face because he immediately asked what was wrong. 

“I actually can’t hang out tonight. I just found out my bank account is fucked up and I can’t really think about anything else right now, so I was just gonna head home, but I wanted to let you know. I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re fine,” He said, shaking his head. “Do you have a way home then?” 

You glanced towards Jungkook, releasing a heavy sigh. “Uhm, yeah, Jungkook was gonna walk me.” 

Hoseok’s eyes darted toward where you pointing, narrowing slightly. Most people knew about the feud between the Lambdas and the Tri Delts, which meant most people also knew the details about why there was a feud in the first place. 

“Are you sure you’re good with that?” Hoseok asked. 

Not really, but a twenty minute walk wasn’t going to kill you. “We’re fine, promise. Actually we’ve been… cordial lately.” You tried to say it like it was actually the truth, but you thought maybe if you spoke it into existence then it would actually come to fruition. 

Hoseok tilted his head, giving you a look that said he didn’t really believe you, but regardless he pulled you in for a hug. “Okay, let me know when you get home.” 

“I will,” You assured him before waving goodbye and making your way back towards Jungkook. 

“Ready,” He huffed, a slight annoyance seeming to coat his words as he pushed himself off of the wall and started towards the entrance. 

“Are you really gonna have an attitude?” You asked as you did a little jog to catch up with him. “I would’ve found another way if I knew you were gonna act like an ass.” 

“I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m just tired.” He placed his hand on one of your shoulders, moving you in front of him so the two of you could move through the mass of people more quickly until you were walking through the entrance and down the wooden ramp that connected to the outside deck. 

“Then why’d you offer? I could’ve called someone to pick me up.” 

“Because,” He paused, motioning towards the crosswalk that already had dozens of drunk college kids filing through it. “I couldn’t just leave you there, and I thought just taking you home would be quicker than you calling people to try and find a ride.” 

Ouch. He was just trying to be nice and you were calling him an ass. Heat flushed beneath your skin from embarrassment. “I’m sorry…” You finally said as you made it to the sidewalk and began the straight shot down the main road towards Greek Drive. “Thank you for making sure I got home alright.” You added, avoiding any eye contact and opting to walk a little bit in front of him. 

After about five entire minutes of silence you thought to yourself, yeah, this was going pretty much as expected. But you were thankful that at least there wasn’t any hostility. You didn’t want any more arguments like the ones from today.  You had seethed at each other after the two of you left President Kwon’s office. Had thrown insults at one another at the meeting between your houses. Like sure, maybe the silence hurt more than it should’ve. The idea that the guy you started dating and fell in love with when you were a junior in high school not even being able to fake a conversation with you for twenty minutes was mildly heartbreaking to say the least. But again, the silence was better than the anger that had fueled most of your interactions since breaking up the summer after starting college. 

You had become somewhat content with the lack of speaking. You were still a few steps ahead of Jungkook as he walked behind you, but he suddenly picked up speed and joined you, shoulder skating against yours before he was curving his hand around your waist and nudging you to go to the side of the sidewalk that wasn’t closest to the main road that was currently buzzing with post-bar traffic. 

“Wouldn’t want you falling face first into a Camero that someone’s Daddy bought them, Drunkie,” He said, offering a playful smile as he dropped his arm back down to his side. 

You were caught so off guard by the positive expression from Jungkook that it took you a second for your head to actually realize what he had even said. You pushed his shoulder. “I’m not even drunk anymore.”

“Well, considering I can literally smell the tequila on you, I’d rather not take any chances of you falling into oncoming traffic.” 

“You’re being nice.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Too nice.” 

“What?” He chuckled. “I’m just making an effort to try and fix things between us so that the members don’t see us constantly fighting and think it’s okay to do the same.” 

Ah, that’s what it was. He didn’t care if you guys actually patched this up, just that it looked like you did. 

“Well, we could always pretend to like each other, since the appearance is all that actually matters apparently.” You forced a smile and began walking a little bit faster. Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes of being alone with him and his stupid presence that overwhelmed you with thoughts that you wished would just disappear. 

“That’s not what I meant,” He said almost immediately, not letting that unbearable plunge into silence return. “I would love it if we could be nice to each other and actually mean it… I just…” He trailed off, seeming to hesitate in whatever he was trying to say. 

“Just spit it out.” 

There was one more second of a brief pause before he spoke quietly. “I just don’t think that’s ever going to happen, because I know you still blame me for everything.” 

You tensed up, still keeping your pace of being slightly ahead of him. You inhaled a deep breath through your mouth before turning to look over your shoulder at him, his eyes already waiting to meet yours. 

“I don’t blame you.” You smiled, but with a sad furrowing of your brows. “I… resent you.” 

Jungkook’s mouth fell open, his eyes widening in surprise. “I mean, that’s… that’s even worse than blaming me.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not.” 

His expression turned more puzzled. “How is you resenting me better than you blaming me?” 

“Because, blame implies that I think it’s your fault… Resentment just means I’m angry and upset, regardless of whether I think you were right or wrong for what happened.” You felt the bridge of your nose begin to tingle with that telltale sign of tears, so you quickly looked forward and urged them to stay hidden until you were at least in the comfort of your own room. “I’m just resentful of the things I now think and feel about myself, but that isn’t your fault. It’s my issue to deal with.” You shrugged. 

“What things do you think and feel about yourself?” He asked, and you could tell that he had hurried his pace and was a little closer behind you now. 

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want to talk about this. The two of you hadn’t had an in depth conversation like this since you’d first broken up. But things were different now compared to that first conversation. Back then it was raw and fresh, the pain too intense to notice what was growing underneath. Now it was a scar, and you were left with all of the emotions, feelings, and implications of how and why things ended. 

“I… I don’t really wanna talk about it honestly.” You said that, but you also wanted Jungkook to understand that you were perfectly aware of how you had acted the past few years. You may have said and acted in ways that seemed bitchy and ridiculous, but it was because of these disgusting emotions that were now plaguing your mind constantly, and maybe it was time he knew. “I kind of wish we had broken up over this giant fight that was about something unfixable. Something where we both clearly did things wrong and we were both through with each other because there was no way either of us were going to change our minds. I think I could’ve dealt with that so much better than what you actually broke up with me for. Which was just the fact that you thought I was...” You trailed off, the word that bombarded your thoughts mercilessly landing on your tongue. “Boring.”

You heard the way his shoes scratched against the concrete at his screeching halt, and he clearly thought that that was going to stop you as well, but you kept going, not actually wanting to hear any response from him. You said your piece and now maybe he would understand. But of course you knew that he wasn’t just going to let it end like that, which was made apparent when you felt him suddenly gripping your arm, trying to get you to slow down for a second. 

“I never said or even thought that about you, Y/N, ever.” He tried to pull you to look at him, but you twisted your body and threw a hand over your face to cover your eyes that were already glistening. 

“No, stop,” You said firmly, and he ceased with trying to get you to look at him. “I told myself after that night in my room I was never going to let you see me cry over you ever again, and if I look at you right now, I will. I just know I will, so please just stop.” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute, leaving just the sound of grasshoppers and the random gust of cars passing by. You thought maybe he would just let it go and you could continue the last few minutes of the walk without speaking, but you had verbalized your thoughts and Jungkook was without a doubt going to respond. 

“I know how it’s easy to think that,” He started, his voice a whisper with his hand still wrapped around your arm, as if he was afraid you would bolt down the street without letting him finish if he let you go. “But that’s not why I ended things. You were the first girl I ever actually dated, and when we got here I just started thinking about—”

“—All of your new exciting options.” You cut in, anger flaring before you could stop it. 

“Y/N…” He trailed off, squeezing your arm. “That’s not what it was—”

“—No,” You said before he could try and dance his way through some explanation of how he just wanted to go crazy in college without actually saying it out loud. “You don’t have to explain it again. I’d rather you didn’t actually. I remember in excruciating detail the way you explained it that night. I understand, I get it… So, p-please,” Your voice cracked, finally being too overwhelmed by this entire situation. “Let’s just keep walking and not talk about it anymore. Please.” 

It turned so quiet I could even hear how hard Jungkook was breathing. It sounded heavy but unnatural, like he was trying to forcibly steady his heartbeat. And after a few seconds you felt him finally drop his hand from your arm and you didn’t wait for him to say a single word before you started down the sidewalk again.

The Tri Delt house was five minutes away, leading to five minutes of complete and utter silence between two people that was so palpable it blocked out the scratching of your shoes as you walked and the rustle of tiny animals running through the trees next to you. It engulfed you in this tunnel of noiselessness. 

Eventually you saw the bend at the end of the street where yours and Jungkook’s houses sat next to one another. It was only a little bit away, yet it felt so far. Twenty minutes. All it had taken was twenty minutes of the two of you not partaking in your back and forth hostility from the last few years for you to break down again. It felt pathetic. It was completely pathetic. 

You were finally approaching the point where the Tri Delt and Lambda house split into opposite directions. All you had to do was keep walking straight while Jungkook veered to the left and— 

You felt the light tug at the belt loop of your jeans, stopping you in place, just like from earlier today after the suspension meeting. You were about to tell him to let you go, when he beat you to the punch. 

“You’re not boring, Y/N. You never have been.” He was so close you could feel his breath hitting the back of your head. “It was one of the millions of reasons that I loved you. I just wanted you to know that.” 

And then he was gone. The pressure of someone tugging you in place disappearing, leaving you to catch your balance as you finally stood alone. You forced yourself to stare straight ahead as you walked towards your front door, not daring to look at him as he walked to the Lambda house. You shoved your keys inside the lock, forcing it open and then taking the stairs by two’s until you were collapsing in your bed, fingers crushing your pillow as you finally let yourself cry. 

——--

A phone was ringing inside of your dreams. It was ringing and ringing and ringing until you realized the sound was coming from some otherworldly place — oh yeah, that would be the current hell that is your life. 

You blinked a couple of times, blindly reaching for the source of the noise that was lost somewhere in your bed. You finally felt your hand slide across the leather of your phone case. You brought it up to read the name and you felt your stomach curl. 

‘Jungkook the Jackass’ was calling. And if it weren’t for the fact that he was calling you at seven in the morning you probably would’ve just sent him straight to voice mail in order to avoid any further conversations about what transpired last night. But alas, it was seven in the morning and just seemed to be too early of a time for him to be calling about something mundane. 

You regretfully lifted the phone to your ear. “Yes?” You grumbled, voice scratchy. 

“We have a problem.” No mention of last night. It was just a clear cut declaration that did not sound good. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up from bed. 

“Come outside your house. Now.” 

Your eyes widened and you instantly jumped from bed. He sounded urgent enough that you decided your flimsy nighttime apparel was going to have to do. You hurried down the stairs and opened the front door, revealing Jungkook in the front yard staring at something. 

“What is it?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you tried to hide your bralessness. 

Jungkook pressed his lips together as he pointed towards the front of the Tri Delt house. “My idiot Lambda Brothers.” 

You followed the direction of his finger, your mouth dropping at the sight before you. 

Dozens and dozens and dozens of boxers covering every inch of the first story of the house. You turned towards Jungkook, so angry and anxiety-riddled that someone from administration had already seen this, that you could hardly speak. 

“I’m going to murder them,” You finally managed to spit through clenched teeth. 

“No,” He started, turning to you, mirroring your own frustration. “I’m going to murder them.” 

→ part 02

[gojology]

Job Benefits. (Part One)

new beginnings ‧₊˚✩彡. - chapter one.

you can find part two here : part two : undesirable

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader

warnings : cursing

wordcount : 1960

a/n : something that i’ve been working on for a while now. this is self indulgent as all hell and i’m starting a new series n idk when it’ll end necessarily but ceo gojo is all i need in my life. also i have like 300 million requests to go through but i PROMISE i’ll get them done! i just need to finish my valentines event thingy and i’ll be open! 

it has come to my attention that gojo is his surname and i’m too lazy to fix anything other then the first name basis part im so sorry LOl

         It’s no secret that you like working the office.      Even as a child you enjoyed the formal atmosphere when you walked into your parent’s workplace, and even better, you enjoyed organizing stuff. Growing up, your favorite pass time was cleaning and organizing which caused you to excel in school, coupled with your natural smarts. Your peers would constantly tease you, telling you that you were a boring kid- but hey, you’d be making lots of money, and what better job would there be for you, aside from being someone’s secretary?      Those were the first words that came across your mind as soon as you stepped into the prestigious building, heels rhythmically hitting the stainless floor, suitcase in hand. It was also the first lie that you’d tell yourself in there.      You had known about this company even as a child. One that sold just about everything, the most notable being luxurious clothing, but something the company was also well known for? How attractive the family was.      Sure it was a bit weird, but in defense of the general public their appearances were rare, only once in a while you’d see the family on TV. Waving in their limousine, blowing kisses and doing things rich people do, or maybe ignoring the cheering crowd of journalists and news reporters, hell like you knew.     Catching glimpses of the wildly white haired family was something every paparazzi threw themselves at, and picking up a magazine or going to search something on the internet would be sure to be chock full of pictures of the esteemed family. The highlight of the family being the son, just because of how handsome he was, and also happened to be the most publicly known and fawned over family member-     Gojo fucking Satoru.      Luckily for you, he was your boss, so you could probably reveal the tiniest of secrets and make major bank. Unluckily for you, he was childish as all hell, not to mention you found childish people incredibly annoying. The worst thing? You were his secretary.      That could only spell out doom for a man like him, and a woman like you, who only wanted to get business done and nothing else. You two truly did not mix.     Two months prior, you had gotten the job and was finally excited to have stable income after graduating. Your hirers didn’t tell you anything about having to babysit a manchild though.     And so, that’s how you found yourself sitting in the comfortable plush leather office chair, fumbling under the piles of paperwork and fan letters, cursing your boss’s name under your breath for being so unconcerned with work. Scheduling appointments, interviews, sending e-mails of unacceptance to eager authors asking to write an auto-biography, that was your life.      You’d be content with it if your boss was normal.      As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s like he heard you think.     “(Y/N)-chan~!” you hear a familiar sing-songy voice down the rather short hallway. Your office resided right next to his, and it would only take him 30 seconds or so to walk down to your door, presumably to annoy the hell out of you. You grunt, blowing a stray hair out of your face.     This also meant that you could hear him sing from his office, even through the thick walls.      Choosing to ignore it, you instead furiously typed to another business executive’s secretary who had just emailed you about a meeting between Gojo and- well you weren’t quite sure who.      “(Y/N)-chan~ I know you hear me, don’t you know it’s disrespectful to not listen to your seniors?” his playful, deep voice was growing closer, and you straighten your back, sighing. You didn’t sign up to be a daycare worker, yet this was what you found yourself doing most of the time.      “I’m sorry, Satoru-sama, please instill me with your great knowledge, oh wise one.” rolling your eyes and rubbing your temples, you glance up from your laptop, bracing yourself for whatever would happen next. Gojo leaned on the frame of your door, head ducking slightly. He was way too tall to walk under it without any issue.      He was unnecessarily calm though, normally he’d be jumping around your office, making a mess of things, but his body language told otherwise. He was slacking off from his duties, obviously, so you weren’t too sure why he’d be acting so... Chill.     With his arms crossed, he gave you a mischievous side eye.     Growing impatient, you stand up, your knuckles grinding against the tabletop. Your brow knitted together as he peered down on you, almost tauntingly, and you hated it.  “Listen, boss. I have a lot to do today, for you, might I add as I am your secretary- and if you’re going to sit around I don’t think I’ll get to these emails and phone calls and everything fast enough. May I kindly assist you with anything? If not I’ll have to ask you to go back to... Whatever you were doing.”      Gojo looked at you, wide-eyed and unblinking, like he didn’t expect such a sassy remark. “Oh my, sweetie. Someone has a naughty mouth... To your boss of all people? How mean! I don’t think I remember putting, ‘allowed to be rude to the Satoru clan’ down on the job benefits.. What’s with the formal tone as well? So unnecessary, just be yourself when you’re talking to me.”     He sauntered closer to your desk, and your breath hitched, this was one of the first times you’d seen him up close like this, and you swore that you could hear your heart beating rapidly inside of your chest. You don’t know what that could mean; but what you did know was that you wanted to slap him or punch a hole into the glass window right behind you and throw him off the 15 floor building. Leaning in close to your ear, he whispered:      “Or, if you wanna stick with the business voice- call me sir. Got that?”     You nod before looking down at your desk, feeling your body heat up for seemingly no particular reason. Did this guy have any knowledge of a private bubble? Whatever, this was your superior. If it was any boss you’d probably be fired by now. You were lucky to be forgiven.     “Yes, sir. May I comment on something... Er, sir?”     “I’m all ears.” standing back up from leaning over your incredibly messy desk, you looked up at him, he looked down at you in response, with beady little “innocent” eyes through his circular shades.      “I didn’t mean to be sassy, I only wish for this relationship to be professional and nothing else.... I, um, truly do apologize and I ask for your forgiveness.” you studied the wall as you say this, fidgeting with your hands and the hem of your pencil skirt. It was a bit awkward to talk to him as if he wasn’t a kid, but it did feel certainly refreshing.      “Is that so?” you turn your head to look back at him as a sign of respect, an eyebrow of his is raised, and a smug smirk is playing at his lips. He talked with such an aura of arrogance around him, you instantly regret being respectful. Yet, you restrain yourself from slapping that stupid smirk off his stupidly handsome face.      Why did all the handsome ones have to be so annoying?      Fuck, no, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. Even though it was only in your mind, you felt so embarrassed, and had no idea why. It wasn’t like he could read your thoughts, and it was just a mindless compliment, nothing flirtatious about it.       Finally, he spoke. “Aw. (Y/N), I knew we picked well when we hired you. So respectful and professional! What more can I ask for out of a secretary? I humbly accept your apology- but first please do something for me.” he whistled in the other direction as he picked up one of your cute stationary pens, hastily sliding it into his blazer’s pockets.     “Yes, sir?” you brace yourself for impact yet again. Not noticing that he stole one of your favorite pens.     “Slack off a little. None of my secretaries ever worked this hard. I’ll slide in an extra hour for lunch, you can go watch a movie or something-”      “No. Satoru. Contrary to your other secretaries, I actually enjoy work.” standing up now, you stomp over to Gojo, who was now giggling like a 7 year old girl. You hadn’t realized that you had called him by his first name, but honorifics wasn’t on your mind right now.     Your chest stuck out as you shoved him out of your office with your bare hands, maybe as a way of looking more threatening, as if that’d ever work against him.     “Get out of my office!” You hope your eyes are staring daggers, if he ever looked back at you.     Gojo looked at you like he was shocked, tipping his shades down just slightly as you were pushing him out into the hallway. As if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, so he had to see it with his actual eyes- but eventually laughed before accepting his eventual fate.      “On a first name basis now, aren’t we? You’re straightforward! I like straightforward girls though, it works out in your favor.”     “Shut it.”      He made sure to stiffen once in a while just to piss you off so that you couldn’t push him as easily, and before long he was back to his office.       “Cya (Y/N)!” giving you a wave and a wink, he grinned. “I’ll be sure to visit you again, your office is fun!”       That was just one of the unusual interactions that Gojo Satoru had with you, but you knew now that it certainly wouldn’t be the last.  ‧₊˚✩彡.      It didn’t take you long before you realized your favorite pen was gone.       Almost immediately, you figured out who the thief was.       It was evident by now that your relationship between you and your boss wasn’t normal, to say the least. You just couldn’t quite wrap your head around why he stole a cute carrot pen, it certainly wasn’t his style. Well, you weren’t quite sure honestly, but the way the magazine front covers posed him was... Sexual.       Maybe the hot guy liked cute carrot pens and was too scared to buy them by himself, but, it was 2021. Toxic masculinity was basically extinct.      This wasn’t on his mind when he stole your pen, though. Gojo Satoru was smart when he wanted to be. To be quite honest, he just wanted to annoy you more. It made him curious, how could one enjoy work? And be cute at the same time?     The logic made no sense to him. Attending meetings, doing interviews- this was all very boring work to Satoru, and he couldn’t wrap his head around that you enjoyed that. He hadn’t asked to inherit the company, but yet here he was now. Shit, maybe he’d ask you if you wanted the company.      He yawned before drinking his coffee, just how he liked it before taking a sip he straightened his tie, just to make sure he looked extra clean and fresh when you busted down the door, ruffling his fluffy white hair as he did so.     Gojo hated the work environment, just to be straightforward. One thing he did enjoy was the complementary luxury coffee machine, alongside several sugar packets. Placing his impossibly long stick-like legs onto the table, he sighed happily.      Cute girl being his secretary, drinking yummy coffee, the sun rays warming up the back of his head, he was truly living the life.     And then he heard it.      Loud steps against the tile floor.      And then, his door flung open.