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sparklingchim · 2 months

Text

you're losing me 03 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, spit kink 👉🏼👈🏼, oc is horny for her man 😋☝️, dirty talk, implied shower sex!! teasing, her dad is a meanie </3, but jk lowkey too :') ... but he's saur sweet as well 🥺 ugh!!, jk's niece yumi is the cutest ever <3, oc feeling sad/lonely/neglected/not loved enough, u know just the usual :')

summary: probing questions and rising tensions cloud the family dinner.

a/n: she posted !!!! 🫢 are u proud of me !! 🫂

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Something tickles your back.

You roll over on your side, mumbling incoherent words.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re having a bad dream?”

You nod against the pillow. You don’t remember much now that you’re awake, but the dream left you feeling upset.

He pulls your body to his, keeping a safe arm around you.

“You’re okay now?” His knuckles trace softly over your cheek.

Fluttering your eyes open, you turn your head to him. “What time is it?”

“Just past six.” Jungkook pulls up the strap of your lacy nightgown. “Gotta get up for work soon.”

“No.” You hug his chest. “They won’t care if you go in a little later.”

A faint smile curves his mouth. “But I care,” he says. “The company doesn’t work without me.”

You frown and dig your pointer finger to your chest. “Me too.”

Jungkook catches your finger and intertwines his hand with yours. “I’ll be back early today,” he promises.

And while you’d usually be excited about it, you’re a bit frustrated that he’s only promising it because you’re having a family dinner at your place this evening.

“Dad would be upset if you show up late.”

“I know. He’s been watching my every step these days.”

Your dad once trusted Jungkook without question, but now he seems to be keeping a closer eye on him. You remember the day you told your dad about dating Jungkook. His expression had softened, a rare sign of pride. Though you knew it wasn’t because he was happy his daughter found a loving partner. Still, you tried to absorb any positive attention from him, recognizing that his approval was more about how the relationship could benefit him.

Your father has always been more interested in what you create or gain and how it can serve his interests.

“Is he upset with you?” you ask. Brows furrowing as you think about your own question.

“Not yet. But he’s still eager for a partnership between our companies and wants to launch a joint venture.”

You pull a face, groan a little. “Don’t tell me more. I don’t want any knowledge of this, so my father can use me to get what he wants from you.”

“He shouldn’t dare.” A stern look crosses his face. “I won’t let him drag you into it.”

But just because you’re curious and way too nosy, you ask one more question. “What do you have that he does not?”

“I have more connections than he does,” Jungkook says. One corner of his mouth slightly pulling upward. “Your father can be ruthless, but people like working with me. I’m way nicer than he is.”

“You are?” you question with a teasing lilt to your voice. You drag your finger across his chest. “Then be nice and spend some time with me before you go to work.” Your finger travels down his abs, stops at his boxer briefs. An amused smile blooms on his face as he watches you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.

With a playful grin, unable to resist you, he leans in closer. His hands find your waist. As your back sinks into the plush mattress underneath, you feel his weight pressing against you. His lips capture yours in a deep, lingering kiss, and you can feel the heat between you both rising.

He pushes your silky nightgown up your tummy, continuing his kisses on your neck to your chest and then your ribs and your belly button. Little, satisfied moans leave your mouth.

“Spread your legs for me,” he whispers against your skin. With his hands on your thighs, he gets comfortable on his tummy.

“I didn’t even get to tell you about the exciting new offer I got yesterday.”

“Tell me, love,” he says softly, continuing to peck your exposed skin. His breath tickles your thigh.

“Dasom called and told me Calvin Klein wants me as an ambassador,” you explain. The same joy floods your tummy as when your manager told you about the news, but maybe it’s Jungkook’s mouth teasing you on your inner thighs.

“That’s exciting.” His thumb rubs over your ribs in appreciation. “You’ve been wanting to work with them for so long.”

“I know! But you know what’s even more fun?” Your voice drowns in excitement, eyes sparking with enthusiasm as you look down at Jungkook between your legs.

He licks a stripe up your clothed pussy. Your inhale shakily.

“Jungkook.” You tug at his hair to make him look at you. “Are you listening?”

“I am listening.” He keeps looking at you while he tugs your panties to the side. “Go on,” he tells you, sucking on your clit right after.

Your back arches. A surprised moan bubbles from your throat.

“They- they want us two to do a shoot together,” you utter between heavy breaths. “Said it would be great for their new campaign. They love our chemistry."

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s eyes lock onto yours, and you suddenly find it hard to hold his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the sheets between you.

“They thought about an underwear shoot, but we could do whatever we’re comfortable with.” Your tummy clenches when Jungkook adds two fingers. “They just- Jungkook, fuck.” He curls his fingers and grazes your sweet spot, pleasure jolting throughout your entire body. “They just really want us both for their campaign.”

Your fingers tug at his messy hair, hips moving against his face.

“What do – what do you think?” You bite your lip. Just a little bit more and you’re cumming.

His mouth leaves your clit. You whine at the loss. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, love.”

“You’d be okay with it?”

“Yeah.” He gives your pussy little kisses, trailing upwards to give your tummy a few too.

You impatiently push his head back between your legs. “Please, finish what you started.”

Jungkook hums in satisfaction. “So well behaved. That’s my good girl.” His tongue glides over your clit while his fingers move at a languid pace.

“Remember the perfume ad?” you ask, eyes slowly closing as he continues to torture your swollen nub with his tongue. “They only saw your back in the video and loved it so much. They’ll... they’ll die seeing this campaign.”

His left hand travels up your body, vanishing underneath the soft fabric that just barely covers your chest. “Do you have a date?” he asks, mouth full. He makes you feel dizzy.

“No-uh – oh.” You gasp when he pinches your pebbled nipple. “Not soon, though. Sometime next year, I think.”

“Sounds good.” His fingers are deep inside you. Wet noises fill the room and you want to cum so badly.

“Faster, please.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers, heat spreading over your entire body.

Jungkook looks so hot between your thighs. Eating you out with his skilled mouth, his cheeks flush a dusty pink as he watches your gentle reactions through his still sleep-laden eyes

“Jungkook.” The creases around his eyes soften when he hears you moan his name in a meek, lewd way. He can feel you being so close to coming undone, and he’s eager to see you writhe for him, make a little mess.

“Gonna cum for me, love?” The way he asks is so sweet that you nod eagerly You don’t ever deny him anything, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to slip between breathy moans. “Wanna cum for you.”

When the pleasure finally hits its peak and you’re so full with it, your thighs begin to tremble around his face and your head sinks into the pillow. Jungkook’s tongue continues to swipe over your sensitive clit and you whimper, pushing him away.

“Felt so good, didn’t it?” He withdraws his fingers from your clenching walls and runs his thumb over your wet, creamy pussy. He licks them clean and you swallow. He’s so irresistibly attractive it leaves you feeling light-headed.

Rising from his spot between your legs, he holds your face. His fingers dig into your cheeks. “Open your mouth.” When you do, he spits in your mouth and you swallow the mixture of your arousal combined with his spit.

“So good,” he murmurs, patting your head. “I’ll go take a shower.”

You throw your arms around his little waist. “No, stay a little more.”

“I have to leave soon, love.”

His semi is poking your tummy through his briefs and you wriggle around a little just to show him what he’s missing out on.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Join me in the shower?”

You giggle, tugging at his hair to kiss him on the lips. “Fine.”

As he walks towards the bathroom, you take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, your nightgown falling back over your body, feeling the lingering warmth of his body. You hear the sound of the shower turning on, and the steam starts to drift out into the bedroom.

Before joining him, you decide to select today’s perfumes for the both of you. You pause in front of the vanity, eyeing your collection with a silly excitement.

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre? Delightful and light, but not today. Marc Jacobs Daisy? Sweet and floral. Maison Francis Kurkdijan Baccarat Rouge 540? A favourite, but it doesn’t feel right for the moment. Gucci Bloom? Tempting with its fresh notes.

Finally, you settle on Dior J’adore – you’re just obsessed with Dior scents.

Moving along the row of Jungkook’s fragrances, your finger dances over each bottle, contemplating.

Creed Aventus? A bit too fruity. Tom Ford Oud Wood? Very exotic. Dior Sauvage? Immediate skip. Bleu de Chanel? Elegant but maybe another day.

You pause at Tom Ford Amber Absolute. That exotic scent – ugh, you’ve never liked it at all. Jungkook used to wear it occasionally until he noticed your distaste and stopped.

At last, your finger lands on Yves Saint Laurent La Nuit de l’Homme. You love the cedarwood and vetiver smell in this one. Perfect.

With a satisfied smile, you set the chosen bottles on the counter.

“Love?” Jungkook calls from the bathroom.

“’m coming!”

You’ve successfully avoided your father all evening, managing to stay out of his way whenever possible.

You know he’s itching to discuss the incident from a few weeks ago when you were seen at your gynaecologist. He loves prying into your life and demanding answers, a way of “checking up” on his youngest daughter that feels more intrusive than caring.

So, as he’s deep in conversation with Jungkook’s brother and dad, you seize the opportunity to slip out of the living room. You're in search of Jungkook, who left a few minutes ago, and you could really use his comforting presence.

As you move quietly through the house, you hear voices coming from the dining room. You pause at the doorway and catch Jungkook’s mum ask in a hushed tone, “Is the same happening as with Eunji?”

“No. Everything is fine,” Jungkook reassures her.

“I don’t want to witness something similar again,” she expresses, clearly distressed.

Jungkook’s soothing voice replies, “There is nothing for you to worry. I promise.”

Your tummy knots with unease.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the mention of Jungkook’s ex-wife only heightens your discomfort.

You’re desperate to know why his mother is mentioned Eunji and what the conversation is about, but you decide to ask Jungkook later, in a subtle manner.

With your eyes fixated to the floor and thoughts muddled, you enter the kitchen. Sunhee, the chef who has been part of your family since you were little, is preparing dinner for you tonight.

“Who was the cause of that sad face, my dear?” Sunhee asks, worry crinkling her forehead while she puts the food on the plates.

“I’m not sad,” you deny, leaning against the counter. “Not yet, at least.”

“Why are you anticipating becoming sad? That’s not a good thing to do,” Sunhee says, shaking her head in disapproval. “Who are you hiding from?”

She knows you so well. Ever since Sunhee became your family’s chef, it’s been your habit to hide in the kitchen when the atmosphere at home became too overwhelming for you. When your father was angry or your parents argued, you’d slip into the kitchen, and Sunhee would lift you onto the counter to watch her cook.

You used to just hide in your room, but you found that life was easier to bear when you didn’t have to carry all the sadness alone. When you were ready to face the world again, Sunhee would slip sweets into your hands. You mum hated treats before dinner and never allowed them, so this became your little secret with Sunhee.

It might seem trivial, but those moments meant the world to you when you were a little girl.

“My dad,” you huff. “He’s been unbearable since...the pictures.”

Sunhee gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear that, dear. I know how tiring his behaviour can be.”

“He’s like someone straight out of the gossip rags.”

Sunhee chuckles softly. “He does have a flair for drama, doesn’t he? But you shouldn’t let it get to you. You’ve always been good at handling him.”

“It’s just exhausting.”

She pats your hand gently. “Don’t let him bring you down. Remember, this kitchen is your sanctuary.” The little anxious ball in your tummy fades with each comforting word Sunhee speaks. “Dinner will be ready shortly. You can sit down in the dining room. I’ll let everyone know.”

“I’ll do that for you,” you offer, and leave the kitchen.

Heading to the living room, you announce, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Have you seen Yumi?” Jungkook’s brother asks, referring to his four-year-old daughter.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen her,” you answer and he immediately gets up. She must be up to no good if she’s been unsupervised for longer than ten minutes.

“Yumi! Where are you?” Jungkook’s brother calls in the hallway. “Dinner’s ready!”

Loud, hectic thumps erupt from upstairs.

“When did she get up there?” you ask puzzled.

Jungkook and his mother emerge from the dining room.

“What happened?” he asks.

Before anyone can respond, Yumi’s usual small pitter-patter of footsteps becomes a series of high-pitched clatters. She appears at the top of the stairs, dressed up in your clothes.

“Oh, God,” her dad utters.

“She found ___ closet.” An endeared smile crinkles Jungkook’s eyes.

Yumi proudly walks down the stairs in your Louboutins, a hand on the rail to keep her from tumbling. Jungkook rushes towards her, keeping a safe hand on her shoulder.

“___!” she exclaims, her wide smile puffing her cheeks. She’s wearing your soft pink corset from Dior and your mini skirt from Giambattista Valli’s vintage collection over her own dress.

“Had fun in my wardrobe?” You laugh as she nods vigorously.

“You have soo many clothes!” she says, eyes turning big. “And everything is sparkly!” She turns to her dad. “Daddy, I want a sparkly bag like dis too!” Yumi shoves your Prada clutch up in the air.

Jungkook’s brother emits a strained sigh, although a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you have a sparkly bag?”

Yumi frowns. “Not dis sparkly.” She points her hand at the bag for emphasis.

You giggle. Yumi was raised right. The sparklier the better.

“I hope you didn’t leave a mess in there,” he warns her.

“Daddy, the bag!” she yells, ignoring his words to avoid trouble, dangling it in the air.

Her dad ushers her into the dining room.

“Who made the bag? I’ll just buy her the same one,” he whispers in your ear.

“It’s a vintage Prada clutch from the fall/winter 2015 collection,” you answer, a confused pout gracing your face. “It’s no longer available for purchase.”

His eyes widen. He watches his daughter climb onto the chair with Jungkook’s assistance, the crystal embellished clutch sitting on the decked table near drinks and food that could spill onto it.

“Then we better take care of it.” He rushes to the table and places it somewhere safer.

As everyone settles into their seats for dinner, Jungkook’s brother breaks the silence, “Hyein was so upset she would miss out on Sunhee’s food.” His wife is pregnant and felt sick today, so she couldn’t come.

“How far along is she?” your mother asks.

“Just entered the third trimester.”

“I’m getting a baby brother!” Yumi exclaims, eyes wide with anticipation.

Jungkook pats her hair and falls into a quiet conversation with her.

“We’re very excited, but she’s been having a rough time lately.”

“Well, I hope she feels better soon,” your father says, his tone temporarily softening. “Take good care of her.”

As the conversation continues with lighter topics, you feel a momentary relief. But soon enough, you feel your father’s gaze shift back to you, a familiar sense of scrutiny returning.

“I wonder when it’ll be time for my daughters,” he says pointedly.

It’s funny he is using the plural form, given that, as far as you know, he never brings up this topic with your older sister, Jinah.

“I think we’ve talked about this last week,” you answer monotonous, eyes set on the plate before you.

“With you I’m just wondering whether I would receive the news from you personally or wake up to headlines telling me,” he says.

Your father called you as soon as the pictures were released, as hungry for answers as the press. Even accused you of hiring the paparazzi yourself when you told him you had merely gone to a check-up and assured him you weren’t pregnant; Jungkook was just comforting you after a rough day.

You used to pull a lot of silly stunts as a teenager to get your father’s attention. But staging a scene for the paparazzi, crying in your husband’s arms over a pregnancy scare, would be the last thing you’d do to get him to check up on you.

You did have your share of attention-seeking antics, like being spotted leaving the club with the son of your father’s rival company, stealing his jet or throwing lavish parties and inviting a mix of celebrities and socialites when your father was away on a trip.

“Didn’t Jinah talk about wanting babies in an interview? Ask her for grandchildren.”

Tilting his head, your father gives you a disapproving glance. “She’s busy with her law firm, don’t you think?”

The table falls silent, with only the faint sound of your breath as you open your lips to speak. Before you can respond, Jungkook steps in to answer for you.

“___ is quite busy herself – launching her clothing brand soon, starting the filming of her first drama, handling the countless photoshoots she has weekly.” Jungkook subtly places his hand on your bare thigh, the comforting press of his wedding band against your skin.

Your father’s features soften as he shifts his gaze to Jungkook. It still saddens you a bit that he seems to approve of everyone but you – it haunts you in the middle of the night, knowing that all you ever wanted as a child was to feel deserving of one of his approving smiles.

“I know she’s busy. It irks me what she keeps herself busy with.”

Jungkook is about to respond, but his mother steps in. “Your acting debut? Oh, I’m so excited.”

Jungkook’s hand slides to your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t take it to heart.

You remind yourself that you’ve long since stopped letting these comments get under your skin. Yet, a part of you – the little girl still longing for approval – feels a pang of sadness that won’t quiet fade.

As the conversation shifts, you find yourself staring at your plate, pushing the food around with your fork. The weight of your father’s disapproval feels heavier than ever. The rest of the meal passes in a blur of small talk and clinking utensils. You laugh at the right moments, nod when expected, but your mind drifts elsewhere. Eventually, the plates are cleared, and everyone begins to disperse.

“We should get going. It’s been a long day, and Hyein is alone at home.”

Yumi tugs at her dad’s sleeve, her eyes wide and hopeful. She glances over at you and Jungkook, then looks down shyly.

“What is it, Yumi?” her dad asks, crouching down to her level.

She whispers something in his ear, and he chuckles. “She wants to ask you guys something.”

You smile, kneeling down.

“Can we have a sleepover?” Yumi asks, her voice small and tentative. “Please?”

Jungkook grins and looks at you for confirmation. You nod saying, “Of course, you can. We’d love to have you.”

“Yay!” Yumi exclaims, jumping up and down excitedly. She rushes over to hug both you and Jungkook tightly.

As everyone gathers their things, your father watches you intently. His expression is hard to read, and for a moment, it seems like he might say something. But he quickly looks away, the familiar disapproval etched into his features.

You expected nothing less from him.

“Is Uncle Jungkook not playing dress up with us?” Yumi asks as she looks through the dress section of your closet.

“I’ll look for him, yeah?”

Stepping out of your walk-in closet and your bedroom, you walk down the hallway.

“Jungkook?” You hear his voice coming closer, and soon spot him walking briskly in your direction.

“Jungkook,” you call, trying to grab his bicep but he continues walking, and your fingers merely graze his arm. “Yumi wants to play before going to bed.”

Only when he turns around do you see him pressing his phone against his ear. Jungkook puts his pointer finger against his mouth and shushes you before he walks off in the direction of his office.

A startled laugh escapes your mouth.

As soon as your family left, his focus shifted back to his work. His excuse about being on the phone felt like a dagger, leaving you feeling disregarded and lonely – emotions you have been feeling too much lately, it’s starting to become a familiar ache in your chest, a constant reminder of the growing distance between you.

Watching Jungkook retreat to his office, you couldn’t help but wonder when it became so easy for him to prioritise work over your presence.

You turn back towards the bedroom and find Yumi standing by your open jewellery drawer, probably drawn by the bright, sparkly gems.

“Uncle Jungkook has some work to do,” you tell her.

Yumi just nods, staring at all the shimmery things in front of her. When she hears you sigh, she looks up at you, her little heart immediately sensing your change in mood.

“Are you sad?” Yumi asks, dragging her little finger over all your accessories, searching for the ones that shine the most.

“I think so,” you admit.

“Was someone mean to you?” She grabs a diamond necklace.

“A little, yeah.” You cross your arms, holding back the annoyed sigh.

Jungkook didn’t mean to make you feel upset. That would never be his intention. But you’re a sensitive person. And you’re his wife, so he should know better.

“My mommy always says when someone is mean to me to never be mean back to them, because – because that shows you are an ugly person.” She fiddles with your necklace.

“And we don’t want to be an ugly person, right?”

“No-uh.” She shakes her head, her little pigtails bouncing. “I wanna be pretty,” she says and holds the shiny necklace against her neck while looking at herself in the full-length mirror. “Where did you get this one from?”

Yumi’s second favourite game, after dress-up, is asking about the designers of your clothes and jewellery.

“It’s a Harry Winston piece. Uncle Jungkook gifted it to me,” you tell her.

“Really?” Her eyes widen. “He buys you so many sparkly things! Like that!” She points to your wedding ring. “Uncle Jungkook must love you so much. But – but he married you. So he has to.”

You help her put on the necklace. “What, you can’t love someone when you’re not married?”

Yumi shakes her head and giggles. “Noo, of course you can, silly. But you only get married when you know you will love them forever and ever.”

“You think Uncle Jungkook will love me forever?” You just feel slightly foolish for asking a child for reassurance.

She turns to you. A confused pout adorns her little face. It reminds you a bit of yourself.

“You don’t buy someone sparkly things when you don’t love them forever.”

You laugh. “Oh, is that so?” You grab her hand. “Come on, little girl. I got a few unopened gifts from designers I know you will love.”

Yumi squeals excitedly and follows you.

Sometime past midnight, Jungkook steps into the bedroom.

You lie in bed with your back to him. You were scrolling mindlessly on your phone – online shopping a little until Jungkook would come to bed, using his card just because. You put Yumi to bed in your guest bedroom hours ago.

“Jaehyun’s gala is in Italy next week,” he says, putting his phone on his bedside table. “You’re coming with me, right?”

You glance over your shoulder and glare at him a little. “No. Don’t wanna go all the way there just for a gala.” You hate flying. And flying to Italy to just stay there for a couple hours does not sound like something you want to do.

“We could have a little vacation for a few days.”

You tilt your head, watching him intently as if he’s setting you a trap. “How many days are we talking?” You sit up.

He ponders, probably going through his schedule in his mind. “Three days. At least.”

You sigh dramatically, though your chest feels giddy. “Fine. I’ll come. But I decide what we’re going to do every day.”

“Sure,” he agrees. “But I already know what you want to do anyway.” A little smirk dances on his lips.

“Oh, do you now?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he replies, eyes shining. “You’ll want to visit the Uffizi Gallery first, lose yourself in all that Renaissance art. Then, there’s the Pinacoteca di Brera because you’re in love with those masterpieces. Shopping at Via Montenapoleone is a given, of course.”

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably.

“You probably want to go to the Amalfi Coast too. You love the view and the town. And then dinner at La Pergola – you've been craving their dishes ever since the last time we went.” He sits down the edge of the bed, watching you with expectant eyes.

You shake your head at him. “You really do know me too well.”

His dimples appear. “Told you.” He looks so pleased with himself. “See? I like you way better like this.” Jungkook gently traces the curve of your smile with the pad of his finger. “And not when you’re glaring at me.”

“Then be nicer to me,” you huff.

His fingers hold your chin and his mouth meets yours. He kisses you so softly and you melt against him.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, love,” he whispers in between kisses. His hand is warm on your waist and he squeezes you slightly.

“Come to bed.” You plant a smooch on his jawline. “I can’t sleep without you.”

While Jungkook takes off his clothes, you lie down again, your mind racing with thoughts of what happened today.

“Why did you and Eunji separate?” you inquire, voice laced with curiosity.

You catch the exact moment Jungkook registers your question; one eyebrow lifts for a heartbeat before his lips pucker into a wistful pout, deep in thought.

He isn’t surprised by your random question. Jungkook is used to you asking things at unexpected moments. You always speak your mind when you’re with him. You’ve asked him this before, but you want to hear his answer again, especially after his mother mentioned her.

“It just didn’t work out anymore,” he says finally. He wears a pensive expression and you’d give everything to know which moments with Eunji are flashing before his eyes.

You wonder if he often reminisces about specific times with her, and your curiosity deepens. He still works with her, sees her quite often, so does he ever think about past times with her? When they were married? And a happy couple?

The thought makes your face twist into a little frown. Jungkook has you. There’s no reason for him to dwell on past relationships when he is married to you.

What kind of thoughts are these? You’ve never had them before.

“We had other plans on how our future would look like,” he tells you as he’s getting under the covers. “What’s wrong?” he asks once he looks over at you and sees your brows pulled together.

“Nothing,” you murmur, smoothing the blanket around you.

“Everything is strictly professional between us.” He’s watching you with attentive eyes. “We care more about our work than the personal stuff.”

You doubt you could say the same if you were in their shoes. But then again, dramatic as you are, you’ve never really gotten over anything in your life.

You still wonder why his mother mentioned his ex, but it doesn’t matter – she doesn’t. Jungkook loves you, and that’s all you care about.

“I know. I trust you.” With a knowing glint in your eyes, you nod once in agreement. “Have never trusted anyone as much, actually.” You turn on your side, resting your hand on his chest. He’s warm, and you feel a gentle calm settle over you.

Soft knocks interrupt you.

“Uncle Jungkook?” Yumi’s meek voice comes through from the other side. She slowly opens the door. “Can I sleep with you, please?”

Jungkook sits up. “Is something wrong?” he asks worriedly.

“Can’t sleep,” she mumbles and crawls up into your bed. Her curious eyes rake over the shiny, lacy nightgown you’re wearing as Jungkook helps her getting tucked in between the two of you. “That’s a beautiful colour,” she says sleepily, feeling the glossy material with the pads of her fingers.

“Thank you.” You smile down at her but she’s intensely staring at your nightgown with fascinated eyes.

“Such a sleepy girl and yet still wants to steal ___ clothes.” Jungkook boops her nose, and she giggles mischievously. “At this point, you just want everything that Aunt ___ wears.”

Yumi turns her head to him. “You have a very pretty girlfri – wife, Uncle Jungkook.”

Jungkook hums in agreement. “I know. She is insanely pretty.”

Your cheeks feel hot. And you feel silly, but so in love.

“Is that why you married her?”

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s one of the reasons, yeah.”

“When I grow up, I want to be as pretty as Aunt ___” Her little eyes sparkle when they shift back to you. She scootches closer to you, cuddling your side.

“Oh,” you coo at her sweetness. “But you’re so pretty already.” You hesitantly brush her hair, taming the crazy bed hair. Jungkook watches you two with fondness softening his features.

“I know,” she yawns and ever so slowly her eyes fall closed.

“How did she fall asleep this quick?” You stare at the way her body falls and rises in rhythmic motions.

“I ask myself that every time when we go to sleep together.”

You sniff a laugh. You tend to fall asleep extremely fast when Jungkook is next to you.

“You’re just very comfortable.” You yearningly stare at his chest and his arm. You won’t be able to fall asleep on him, because miss Yumi is clinging to your side.

“Apparently you are too,” he muses.

You smile softly, looking down at Yumi’s peaceful face. The warmth of her small body pressed against yours fills you with a comforting sense of contentment. It’s a simple, unconditional love that you’ve always yearned for.

The room is quiet, save for the soft sounds of sleep. You close your eyes, feeling the weight of the day and the ache in your heart. As much as you cherish these moments, they also remind you of what’s missing.

But for now, you hold onto Yumi a little tighter, letting her innocent love soothe your restless mind, even as the doubts and fears linger in the corners of your heart.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic

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kalki-tarot · 5 months

Text

THINGS YOU CARRIED FROM YOUR PREVIOUS LIVES ⚖️

Please read : This is just a general reading and may not be 100% true all the times. Please use your brain before making any decisions. Kalki tarot is not responsible for your actions and life decisions.

PICK ONLY ONE PICTURE AND ALLOW ME TO TAP INTO YOUR ENERGY.

Pile 01

I can see you lived by a river, it seems to be the country side. Green grass and shallow wind is what I feel where you belonged. Your sense of belonging in nature comes from this lifetime. You felt comfortable laying over the grass and just looking at the clouds. You were an innocent human being. Your heart held deep sense of purity for everyone and everything. You belonged to a foreign country, different from where you are right now.

I'm getting one more lifetime for you, where you wanted to be a saint or a nun or something like that. You wanted to attain moksha so you decided to take necessary actions but your responsibilities held you down. You could not leave your family or responsibilities i guess.

Your were an emotionally intelligent human being. It can be your gift in your current lifetime to be knowledgeable about spirituality and mysticism. You were born with healing abilities and you may also be a psychic.

Another gift you carried in this lifetime is of alchemy. You may be interested into witchcraft and rituals. Try to practice it more, it will really work well for you. Don't use it for bad things though. You have the power to create and manipulate energies. Your soul possesses infinite knowledge about spiritual. Unlock your hidden potential for its best use.

One more thing I'm seeing is that you carried a lot of burdens too from your previous life. Some traumas or fears, it can be anything. This is the reason why your psychic gifts were blurred or you were just not able to believe in your self, you have wounds from past life too. Healing is needed.

Pile 02

Dear Pile 2, you were someone very helpful and empathetic in your previous life. You were a gentle human being, you may have active water placements in your chart which influence you the most. You were and still are someone very deep and emotional. You understand people around you but sometimes you feel misunderstood. You feel different from everybody else. Yes you are different and it's not bad to be different. You are indeed a very special human being.

In your previous life too, you were a nice person and you did many humanitarian works. All the good karma you did is coming back to you in this lifetime. Please don't let your pure soul get corrupted or influenced by negative people. You often struggle with patience, you get anxious and restless when things don't go as you planned or when you don't see results when you want it. This is what you carried in this lifetime too. Work on having patience. You will definitely reap the fruits of your labour, but before accepting divine timing only!

Again with the fool card, your energy is very restless and childlike. You have the curiosity of a child and you crave adventurous things in life. You can't sit at one place for a long time. But this over restlessness may make you do foolish things. You should try to shift your energy from wasting it on useless things to creating something with your creative mind. You are someone who can build a castle in the sky. What i mean is you have the potential to start from scratch and turn it into something big. Use your energy here rather than doing foolish things.

You were like a wise sufi saint in your past life and you've also carried a lot of wisdom from there. Sometimes you go like where am i even getting these wise thoughts from lol. Yes! You are a street smart person. Use your potential to create something big.

Pile 03

You were someone who used to run behind success. You had or still have a fear of failing and that comes from your past life. You were in a high position in your previous life and you constantly used to work hard for keeping up or maintaining what you had.

You lacked the need to rest. And due to this you became a little too much workaholic. You were too much indulged in your work life that you kind of forget your presonal life and relationships. You will be forced to address the fear of failure in this lifetime too.

And the karma for not addressing your personal relationships is that you will not have any genuine connections in this lifetime. But don't worry, once you accept balance in your life and address your mistakes, things will start aligning for you.

Have a balanced approach and towards work and personal life. Don't be too rational, listen to your head anf heart both. And try not to force yourself to work hard. You will not fail! Don't worry.

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sofiepofie20 · 1 month

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Tsukishima Kei rating the nicknames you would probably call him!

01- Girrafe: 02/10. bro knows he has a long ass neck, u dont need to remind him. gets annoyed whenever u call him giraffe and tells u to shut up. (though he is annoyed he secretely doesn't mind u calling him giraffe)

02- Volleyball freak: 0/10. feels like you are comparing him to Hinata and Kageyama, he hates it (its true though)

03- froggy: 01/10. The same as giraffe nickname. like "u comparing ur bf to a slimy ugly amphibian?! hell no!" (but he can't deny that he does look grumpy just like the rain frog, and he also plays for the Sendai Frogs. he just won't admit it)

04- Brontosaurus: 07/10. Not as bad as the other two, he actually prefers being called brontosaurus since he likes dinasours, but its still a bit annoying how u always seem to remind him of how big his neck is.

05- Shortcake: 09/10. secretely likes it but won't admit it, NEVER.

06- Tsukki: 10/10. the good old Tsukki. not a big deal. he's already used to it.

07- Nerd: 05/10. doesn't care that much about this one. i mean, he is a big nerd, but obviously gets a bit annoyed.

08- Saltyshima: 04/10. Doesn't care that much either, and he can't deny that he is salty.

09- Giant: 10/10. this one makes him feel good about his height, and he calls u hobbit afterwards.

10- Darling, honey, sweetheart, love, dear, etc: 09/10. normal and sweet, cute. he doesn't mind it, and he likes it too.

11- Dinasour: 08/10. he likes it but pretends to be annoyed.

12- Strawberry: 10/10. LOVES it. bro melts whenever u call him strawbery. like "my partner thinks im just as sweet as a strawbery?" and he gets all soft

13- Smartass: 07/10. thinks its funny, and he can call u dumbass in retort anyways.

14- Four eyes: 01/10. just doesn't glare at you with a death stare because its you, otherwise he wouldn't hesitate. doesn't mind u calling him four eyes, bit its a tad but annoying.

15- Grump: 05/10. can't argue with this one. he is grumpy most of the time.

16- Moon: 10/10. also melts when u call him moon. like, he's ur moon? Is he the shine that lights up your night? swoons over it

#tsukishima kei #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima headcanons

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unreleasedwrites · 5 months

Note

I LOVED the gitae fic it was so good😔🙏 We need part two where Maybe he feels pity for us and takes us out to eat or smth, you do the magic im bad at writing lmao 🤧

Thank uuu♡♡♡♡

A Planned Coincidence (pt. 1) (pt. 2)

“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”

summary: You’ve been stuck in the same warehouse you woke up in about three weeks ago, and no matter what plan you would make to escape— it’s no use and you’d only get in trouble. One of the times you did try with Gitae around, he had to clean up after you and the topic of your friends came up and so you begged to meet them. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned and you ended up ignoring Gitae for days. Eventually, he decided he’d take you out in hopes you’d finally speak to him.

character(s) included: Gitae Kim x fem!reader

cw: swearing, implied kidnapping, very toxic, same warnings as my first gitae fic (part 1) , yandere gitae, mentions of blood, death, kissing, suggestive, nicknames, cartel mentions, this is FICTIONAL, abuse, mentions of drugs, guns, his axe, implied cannibalism, a bunch of crimes so beware dark and possibly disturbing content

unwrapped on: Tuesday Morning, April 30 2024

wrapped up on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024

published on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024

“You tired of playin’ these stupid fucking games yet, doll?” Gitae said in an agitated tone, as he held your bruised hand and covered it in bandages. Afterwards, he planted a light kiss on top.

You remained dead silent and only looked towards the ground of the warehouse you were trapped in. You accidentally injured yourself in another one of your escape attempts, so here Gitae was, taking "care" of you once again with some condescending mockery.

“Well? Now you’re gonna go and play the quiet game with me, huh?” He said with a slightly more irritated expression on his face.

“Look at me when i’m speaking to you.” He said and he grabbed your chin to meet eye to eye with him, and you could tell he looked angry. He tightened his grip on your already bruised hand, causing you to yelp in pain from how much pressure was applied.

“Gitae.. I-I—, I was wondering if yo—” You were trying to speak when a few rounds of open fire suddenly interrupted you. You flinched and a visibly frightened expression was evident on your face. Gitae saw this and took you into his arms to face him, while on his lap so that he could straddle you and stroke your hair.

“Sorry about the noise, little girl. Just part of my men’s duties, I’ll let them know to keep it down though,” he said in a less irritated tone.

“Back to where we left at earlier.. Why do you keep tryna fucking escape?” He said in a slightly more raised tone.

“To leave..? Isn’t the answer to that question already kind of already a given?” You replied.

“Leave?” He scoffed, “and just where exactly would a little girl like you go? If I can recall, the friends you came to Mexico have gone missing.. And technically, you’re now known as a missing person, just like your four other friends.”

“Gitae, I hate to have to ask but— Did you have anything to do with those disappearances by chance? You’re speaking as though you know all about it and from what I’ve seen in the past few days..”

He cut you off and laughed, “did I? I thought that was already a given from when I took you here, was it not?”

“I think I get it now, I’m next.. Aren’t I?” You replied.

“What? When the hell did I ever hint something even close to that? I was talking about your little friends, they’re alive, but let me just tell you now that they won’t be for very long if you keep continuing this bullshit of trying to leave me.”

“They’re alive—? Where are they?! Can I please, pleaseee see them, pretty pleaseee??” You begged with your usual pouty face.

“It’s hard to say no when you say it like that,” he said as he held your cheeks together with his hand, “if you’re good for the rest of the day, I might consider it. How’s that for a deal, doll?”

“Deal!” You exclaimed and he tapped his cheek with his finger a few times while saying, “but first~?”

You then tried to give him a kiss on the cheek but he swiftly turned his head so that your lips would land on his instead, and it worked. Despite your situation, you turned into a blushing hot mess and Gitae simply laughed at your reaction, thinking “how cute.”

A little fast forward into that same day, the sun was finally setting, so you may finally get to see your friends again. You waited patiently in the warehouse, sat on top of some boxes, reading the books Gitae gave you to pass time while he was out doing who knows what.

Some kind of bell or alarm started to ring and from what you’ve been observing in the past three weeks, that alarm means that it’s around 8 or 9 in the evening, where most of Gitae’s “men” go out to do unspeakable acts that you’ve witnessed at some point.

Usually, This was around the time you’d try escaping the warehouse because everyone was way too busy to watch over you and most of the men there have left the warehouse, getting on some sketchy vehicles with all sorts of equipment, weaponry, and drugs. The remaining people were either asleep or high in the clouds.

But when you start to see the men leave, you’d usually start to see the second batch of men arrive with Gitae. You’ve noticed a pattern where half of the men go out with Gitae during the day and the rest of the men go out during the night and what similarity both batches shared was that they all came back bloody, smelling really odd, and sometimes Gitae would bring you what he calls a souvenir,— human flesh from one of his victims. Anytime Gitae would do that, you just ignored him for the next hour or two, depending on just how much his patience is willing to endure from you being a so called “brat.”

But, it was around 8 in the evening when the bell had rang, and now it’s past midnight. Yet you haven’t seen or heard from Gitae at all.

Reluctantly, you finally resorted to asking the men around to which they only replied with stuff like, “just give him another half hour and he’ll be here. He’s probably just ran into some trouble with a gang fight or somethin like that.”

One of the men was nice enough to give you some paper that you used to make little bookmarks for the various books you had.

Gitae usually takes you to sleep with him in one of the compartments of the warehouse that led to a bedroom, but since he wasn’t here and you had no idea on how to get in there, you fell asleep on the floor beside some boxes.

You woke up the next morning when you overheard a bunch of men who sounded like they were arguing. And weirdly enough, you were on the bed in the hidden compartment of the warehouse, with Gitae fast asleep beside you. His breathing was steady and he looked tired so you decided to just look around and take mental notes of what the room looked like. It was very different from the rest of the warehouse and was pretty cozy. Gitae’s usual leather jacket was hung on a chair nearby and you noticed some of his belongings on the table. One of which, was a gun. It had you thinking if you wanted to risk your entire life, jumping off the bed to get the gun which was on his side of the room, and shoot him blank.

But that was stupid, what about all the men outside? Gitae told you he isn’t a fan of silencers on his personal guns. They’ll definitely rush over thinking that you in fact, did something— because they all know that Gitae wouldn’t dare hurt you to such a foul extent.

So, you scratched that thought and looked at the door, where does that lead? You thought to yourself. Before you could even continue thinking as you were sat up on the bed, you heard Gitae suddenly start speaking in a raspy morning voice, “what are you up to, little girl? Shouldn’t you still be asleep in my arms?” You turned over to see Gitae, with messy morning hair, not in his usual state of a few loose strands with his hair slicked back.

“Nothing, I was jus-” You stopped for a moment when you saw Gitae sit up and reach for his gun, “doll, could you riddle me this,” he said.

You nodded in response and he spoke as he loaded his gun, “did you try to escape in any form and at any time yesterday?”

He looked you dead in the eye while readjusting compartments of his gun, you lost focus and started to stare at his hands fiddling around with the gun to which he suddenly snapped his fingers, “my eyes are up here, what did I tell you yesterday?” His eyes narrowed and you responded with, “to always look you in the eye when you speak..?”

“Correct. Now, answer.” He slowly finished prepping his gun.

“I didn’t, you could ask the men out there for proof of that.” You said.

“I already did, they told me you were finding me last night? Is that true, my pretty doll?” He said as he caressed your face.

“Well, you were taking much longer than expected to arrive.. A-and you did tell me that if I was good for the rest of the day, I’d get to meet my friends..” You said hesitantly.

“Right.. About those little friends of yours,” he spoke as he placed the gun on the table and your eyes widened, “what about them..?”

“Hoho, do you wanna find out for yourself?” He said with a smirk on his face.

“Gitae.. What do you mean..?”

“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”

“Fine then,” you replied.

Gitae stood up from the bed and so did you, it was still about 4 in the morning so it was cold outside of the bedroom, which is why Gitae put his leather jacket on you since you weren’t wearing much.

He unlocked the door with some sort of key that he took from a high shelf you couldn’t reach for yourself. Before he even swung the door open after unlocking it, he took a blindfold and placed it on you first, something that typically happens whenever you guys were going to leave the bedroom. From there he just carries you to the main open area of the warehouse to which he then takes the blindfold off once you’ve arrived around the usual boxes you stay at.

“So.. Where are they??” You asked visibly confused, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at Gitae.

“Silly girl, they aren’t here.. They’re at some other location we’ll be driving to,” he replied as he looked at one of the men who usually drove you and Gitae around. To which that man immediately left, starting up one of the cars that were outside.

“Awh, but it’s so early.. It doesn’t even look like it’s 5 in the morning, why would you suggest we go now..?” You pouted as you looked at Gitae, because of how sleepy you were he had to hold you with one of his hands to keep you from falling.

“Don’t worry, sleeping beauty— It’s a few hours to get to where they’re at, so you could just sleep on me in the meantime.” He replied as he carrier you once again and took you to the car.

He positioned you on his lap to face him and you settled your head in the crook of his neck, slowly drifting away. He gave you kisses on the top of your head and stroked your hair while you gently caressed his shoulders. You fell asleep easily and stayed in the same position.

Eventually, the car parked at some hidden area which appeared to be in a secluded part of a forest. You were still asleep when you guys arrived so Gitae started pressing kisses all over you. You started feeling ticklish from all of it and woke up.

Not even sure how you guys got here because you didn’t see a road to drive on but you didn’t question it.

“Good morning doll~ We’ve arrived, would you like to finally meet your little friends?” Gitae asked you, who was still sleepy and had woken up from a good dream, still not processing anything.

You simply nodded and clung onto Gitae’s shirtless body because you were too tired to even try getting up and walking.

Gitae carried you with ease and walked towards what appeared to be a pretty run down building, but what it specifically looked like was a blur to you because of how out of it you still were at the time.

An awful stench was evident from the exact moment you were in the building. A loud screech coming from a girl was heard all throughout the large building, echoing amongst the floors. The voice sounded a little too familiar, almost as if it were one of your friends producing a vile screech, a desperate scream for urgent help. The echo suddenly came to a stop without repeating the rest of the noise. Gitae tried to assure you that was someone else but it was no use, you were in an environment you’ve never been in before, hearing all sorts of things. You were terrified and started to both panic and cry, while you were still in Gitae’s arms. He started to get irritated with how your current state was, he even threatened to hit you if you didn’t stop screaming and crying, trying to get away from him. You ran off into some other part of the large building, hiding from him. At first, he was annoyed but decided to play your little game of hide and seek. But, couldn’t find you and so he started to punch different walls, some of which collapsed in an attempt to find you easier and to get you out.

He couldn’t take it anymore and pulled out his axe, he said that you had exactly 5 seconds to reveal yourself or this wouldn’t end well.

“This is a stupid fucking game, Y/N. 5,” he started his countdown, “4,” and you knew better than to disobey, so hesitantly “3,” you started to leave your hiding spot to reveal yourself, “2,” before he could even reach 1, you were on your knees behind him, sobbing.

“Gi-Gitae, please..” You sniffled, “I already have gotten a good idea of what you did with them, so please.. I don’t need to see it for myself.”

He scoffed, “after you just ran and hid from me? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.” He grabbed you by your hair harshly and dragged you to the basement floor. And that’s where you saw another nightmare right in front of you, from the scene of the group of men who attacked you, to your own closest friends, all dead.

Except one of them, she was your closest friend in the entire group and she was completely unharmed. But had to closely witness all that was done to the other girls. She was tied up with chains and from what you know, her voice was the noise you heard earlier.

Which had you wondering, why did her screaming suddenly stop? But instead of focusing on that, you looked over to Gitae who has never looked so angry before. His grip on your hair was only becoming tighter as you tried pleading with him.

You were terrified to know that in any second, Gitae could literally crush your skull with his bare hands if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Gitae suddenly let go of the grasp he had on your hair and looked down on you, “I’m letting you know in advance that what happens next is thanks to you being such a brat.” He then struck his axe at your friend, multiple agonizing times while the one man that was there forced you to watch, holding you at gunpoint and purposely turning your head in the direction of both Gitae and your friend.

Gitae looked back at you after he struck your friend with his axe so many times that she’s no longer recognizable, you were a sobbing, pitiful, and distressed mess. You were screaming at him, begging him to stop, all the while trying to break free from the man’s harsh grip on you but it was no use and you couldn’t do anything at all.

I won’t go into too many details but it was extremely gruesome and gut wrenching. By the time Gitae finally decided he was finished, he threw the axe at your direction, purposely missing by just an inch to slightly scar your neck (since you were moving around a lot, it just barely scraped the side of your neck).

You yelped, Gitae then took a part of her flesh, and bit it— but unlike the last time, he ate this entirely and licked his fingers clean. He then spoke out “clean this place up, (insert name of man who was holding you).” To which the guy nodded and finally let go of you, you fell immediately to the ground and continued sobbing, you were twitching at this point from how terrified you were.

Gitae then looked over to you, he’s seen you upset but he’s never seen you this upset before. He looked back at the girl he had just mauled and at the other girls that were laying dead on the floor. That’s weird, he was starting to feel— bad for you?

Gitae spoke with someone on the phone and after, he carried you to the car. You never stopped sobbing and you were trembling as Gitae had you on his lap, facing his blood scattered face and body. He was trying his best to comfort you but you were ignoring him. Eventually, the car started to move and you knew this was gonna be a long ride, but you just kept on sniffing while your head was nestled in between the crook of his neck. He took the hint that you really weren’t gonna talk to him at all, so he stroked your hair with his unstained hand while you silently sobbed, clinging onto him so tightly that it left marks on his body. He also bandaged up the tiny scar you got coming from his axe.

A few days had passed and you still hadn’t spoken to Gitae no matter how many times he tried or how much he threatened you.

He was fed up, but he had an idea that might just work. He decided he’d take you out for dinner at one of the places that had gambling addicts so no staff would care. He hadn’t told you all about his plan yet but he had some guy book a reservation and he went out to buy you a little gift. You didn’t know of any of this because you couldn’t understand Spanish so you were just reading books in the corner.

He went out to buy you some clothes that he was badly hoping you’d like. He bought you more sleepwear and a cute outfit that you could wear on your little date with him. He bought some more things you mentioned you like, like some more books he knows nothing about.

He arrived back at the warehouse at around 5:30 in the evening and asked you to come with him, he blindfolded you and brought you to a bathroom. It was much nicer than the usual bathroom and you were assuming that this was another compartment of the warehouse.

He told you to shower, and you nodded in response. But, he was just standing at the doorway, staring at you. So you just stood there.

“Well?” He rose a brow, “I thought you wanted a shower, what are you doing just standing there?”

You gulped and finally spoke for the first time in days, “d-do you really.. have to watch..?”

He looked you up and down, “either I watch or join you, take your pick.” You remained silent, you didn’t want either of that.

He scoffed and put the blindfold on you once again, you could hear him fiddling with his belt and clothes rustling. After, he started to undress you as well, disposing of your clothes in the trash.

He turned on the running water in the bathtub and while it filled, he was doing some things but you couldn’t see so you had no idea. He took you into his arms and the next thing you felt was pure water, you haven’t showered in a while so this was a bliss. He took your blindfold off and to your surprise, you were on top of him in the bathtub. He gently sunk you into the water, and laid you on his figure, showering your hair with water.

He then applied different products on your hair and massaged your scalp. after he finished washing your hair and body, he started fondling around with your body.

“Your skin is so soft, doll,” he said as he played with your boobs. You lightly moaned from what he was doing and he smirked, “you like that, don’t you?” You subconsciously bucked your hips in response which caused him to twitch down there. You could feel his dick on you and he started aggressively kissing you. Things escalated and you ended up having to take a second bath.

“Doll~, I forgot to mention it because you riled me up so much earlier that I lost the chance to— butt, we’re going out tonight and I bought you some clothes.” Gitae said as he took out some unfamiliar clothes from the shelf and started to dress you while he was still in a towel.

After you were fully dressed, he smiled at you and commented, “you look adorable, just like a doll.”

Afterwards, he got dressed and was finally wearing something other than just jeans. He was wearing black pants and a formal shirt. You thought he looked handsome in his outfit so you commented, “you look handsome, Gitae,” you giggled. He chuckled and planted light kisses on the top of your head.

You guys then went out and arrived at some nice and flashy building. It was weird at first, you couldn’t possibly fathom why he would do this. Either way, you just went it.

“Well?” Gitae suddenly spoke as you were sat across from him, in a nice restaurant.

“Thank you,” you replied as you looked around the secluded spot you guys were sat at.

Gitae sighed, “still not happy?” He frowned.

You simply looked at him, pouting. To which he pouted back at you mockingly.

The food eventually arrived and Gitae wanted you to try some of his rare practically live ass steak, so he fed you some of it with his fork. You made a dissatisfied face and he laughed at your reaction. He loves the way you react to absolutely anything, he finds it adorably irresistible.

“Thank you,” you said as you were about halfway done with your meal.

“I don’t care for words, you silly little girl. How about you just show me your appreciation after dinner?” He said with a smirk.

You didn’t take the hint and so you asked, “how?”

He laughed at your response, “I’ll give you a better idea once we’re in the car, and once were back in bed, you continue wherever we left off in the car.” Your eyes narrowed until you finally understood what he meant to which you looked at him with a pout while you were chewing your food.

“What kinds of food do you like?” Gitae suddenly asked as he looked at your food then at you.

You shrugged, “I’m not really picky, but I do have my preferences and dislikes.. For instance, that steak you’re eating or any sort of steak.”

He looked at his food, “it’s delicious, how could you not like it?”

“We have wayyyy different diets, I’ve seen you eat raw meats of all sorts you bastard.”

“Awh, how am I bastard?” He pouted, but deep inside he was amused and enjoying this.

“Because of your question about food! I suddenly had a flashback about my friend, whom you took a bite of!” You said, somewhat sarcastically because you know how moody Gitae is and you didn’t want him to get angry at you again.

He just laughed, “I remember that, she tasted alright too, I should’ve had seconds.” You rolled your eyes and he was only more amused and said, “but because of your whining and puffy eyes, I had no choice but to leave as soon as I finished the job. Such a pity.”

“Hey, would it kill you to have some remorse?” You said as you picked up some meat with your fork and lifted it up to his mouth.

“I don’t really like this, but it seems like something you’d like.” You said as he was chewing what you just gave him. He would never admit it, but you feeding him made him feel something.

“It tastes good, I thought you said you weren’t a picky eater?”

“I’m not,” you said as you grabbed more of that meat on your fork and fed a bunch of it to him. He was genuinely so happy inside and his amusement turned into butterflies because for once, you weren’t scared of him and he for some reason, cared about that pretty badly.

Your guys’ dinner date went on like normal, exchanging words and actually getting to know each other.

Eventually you felt the need to use the restroom so you mustered up the courage to ask permission to go.

“Gitae,” he turned his gaze over to you and mumbled in response.

“Could I use the women’s room, please?”

Gitae looked around, “I’m trusting you don’t need me to make sure that no stupid attempts of leaving will happen?” He asked sternly.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Fine then, go ahead but don’t take too long.” You nodded in response and excused yourself from the table.

And just as you said, you did go to the women’s room. And just as you promised, you came back right after. While you were making your way back to the table, you saw that Gitae was approached by two guys who he seemed to have known from somewhere.

You got back to the table and the two men that Gitae was talking to looked over to you. They looked to have been working in the casino area of the building.

One of them turned back to Gitae and said, “I see now why a guy like you is brought to a place like this. I’m guessing she’s your girlfriend, right?” You all looked at Gitae who replied with a smile, “yes, she is.”

“Damn, you’re one lucky guy. She’s gorgeous from top to bottom!” One of the guys exclaimed as he placed his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it intensely. Gitae stared at his hand then at him.

How dare he lay his hand on something I own? He’ll pay for even daring to look at what clearly isn’t his. Gitae thought to himself.

“Well, we’ve gotta get going now.. But you two enjoy your night, especially the pretty lady over here,” one of the guys said as he stroked your hair and then proceeded to walk away.

You turned over to Gitae who looked like his veins were popping out of his skull and his aura seemed to have changed. He then looked back at you and smiled, “don’t mind them, I’ll make sure to deal with them some other time. But not tonight, tonight’s supposed to be our night.” He tried to keep his composure.

“Right.. Who were they anyway? And must they be so touchy..?”

“They’re friends with some of the people I know, but they won’t be for long.” He said as he took the final bite of his food and placed his fork down.

It’s safe to say that those two were never seen again, and the police didn’t even open an investigation about the disappearances when it happened. Soon, the news about those two guys went cold and if anything, any trace or information of them was wiped out entirely.

notes: I did more than the request and added way more before the actual dinner date because im gonna be busy in the next few weeks so idk when I can post again, and because i have a bunch of Gitae requests, I thought I might as well and this is long asf, also i’ve got another gitae fic in progress 😭😭

- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as your own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs

Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for a request, and l'Il be doing more characters in lookism so feel free to request!!

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katanablue · 2 months

Note

H! How are you? I hope you are doing good

I saw your requests re open so I hope you don’t mind this, but can you do an “first kiss” Headcanon / scenario with either 2007 or 2003 tmnt boys with a very friendly reader (she jokes w them, is super relaxed around them, etc etc) , but whenever someone flirts with her she short-circuits lol, blush, get flustered, clumsy… kinda doesn’t believe the flirting is for real (due to low self esteem) , until the kiss happens, and there’s a “switch” “oh. Oh.” Moment w then and then they become more affectionate/ passionate ?

Hopefully this makes sense! Please and thank you, hope you have a good day

I’m going with the 03 boys!! Sorry that this isn’t exactly what you wanted 😭😭 I changed it a lil bit. Thank you sm for requesting!!

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰💙꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

• Leo doesn’t know when it happened exactly but at some point during your friendship with him and his brothers, he could physically feel himself become about significantly calmer. Your laughter made his heart flutter, his lips curl upward into a smile without really realizing it, and he found himself always looking at you whenever he made a joke (a good one at least). It didn’t take him long to figure out that he has a crush on you and it seemed that you felt the same. Then again he wasn’t sure since you tended to be extremely friendly with his brothers as well.

He tries flirting with you, as subtly as he can, since he knows you don’t exactly take to flirting too well. Ever since he witnessed Mikey call you ‘babe’ that one time and saw just how much a stuttering mess you became, he’s taken it upon himself to be more cautious about it.

So he’ll do little things here and there; bring you tea, pull out your chair, take the invisible lint off your shoulder. You’re none the wiser, thinking Leo is just being a good friend, the respectful ninja turtle in blue. And he is! He just wants to let you know that it means something a little more than friendship.

One day Leo decides to kick it up a notch, wanting to compliment you directly on something. It’s when you laugh and smile with all your teeth that he seizes the opportunity.

“You have a beautiful smile.” He says calmly, warmth in his eyes as he watches you start to laugh out of nervousness.

“Oh uh, I uh, no— I don’t…” You try to dismiss his compliment, even going as far as to cover your mouth so he can’t look at it anymore. Leo reaches to gently take your hand in his, lowering them down and giving you a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you do. It’s beautiful. Just like you.”

You stare at him, trying to rack your brain for a response but finding absolutely nothing. Leo can’t help but chuckle, tilting his head a bit to the side.

“May I kiss you?”

If your brain wasn’t fried before, it’s definitely out of commission now. He waits for you to answer, accepting the very stiff tilt of your head as an okay. He leans in and brushes his lips against your cheek, interlacing your fingers with his and pulling back. Even as the seconds tick by you still feel that tingle from his mouth on your skin, your lips twitching up into a shy smile.

“I’d like to give you another kiss, after I take you out on a date. If you’ll let me?”

He gives you another peck on the cheek after you agree.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰❤️꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

• You and Raph had a sort of… special relationship. Sure you joked with the other turtles but with him? It was a whole different ballgame. You teased each other to no end, poked and prodded, made jokes. He used your head as an arm rest even though you were both nearly the same height and you liked to push his buttons to near explosion but of course never saying anything out of hand. It was a fun relationship, one you both love and cherish.

Except for the times he flirts with you.

You never know if he’s serious or not, and you never really stick around to find out because once those compliments leave his mouth it’s like all logic leaves your brain. And oh how Raphael loves it when you’re reduced to a cute pile of mush. He totally 100% means it every single time, but since you’re not one to take his words to heart, he uses it as an opportunity to flirt with you with no restrictions.

His most recent flirtation, one you can’t even recall at the moment because it was just so ridiculous, has you spitting the first thing that comes to your mind.

“You wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you stupid!”

Raph chuckles and crosses his arms across his plastron, looking at you with a smirk and a raised eyeridge.

“Yeah I do.”

…What?

“What?” You sputter, looking back at him with an incredulous expression.

Even this was crazy bold for the red clad turtle, he could fully admit that. He takes a hold of your chin in between two of his fingers, keeping you in place as he gets closer.

“Yeah. I do.” He repeats and makes a very pointed glance at your lips. You blink several times at him, unsure how to respond.

“You don’t… mean that ahaha…” You try to write it off as another joke.

“Care to find out, sweetheart?” He teases and gets even closer, his breath fanning over your warm skin.

“S-sure.” You say quietly, hearing nothing except the hard thrumming of your heart in your ears.

Raph will make fun of you later for your response, but for now? He kisses you softly, still holding your chin and even placing his other hand on your back to keep you close. He pulls away after a few seconds, his smirk now a bit more tender.

“Still think I’m joking?” He mutters, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

No, you don’t think he is.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰💜꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

• “Donnie!” You call out excitedly, making your way quickly but cautiously into his lab. He’s in the midst of working on something, protective goggles on as he uses a torch on some metal sheet. He doesn’t notice you until you’re in his line of sight, the terrapin perking up once he catches a glimpse of you.

“Hey!” He shouts in greeting as he turns off the torch, straightening his posture and lifting the goggles off his face. He beams at you with a wide grin, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands clean before making his way to you.

“Check out this new gloss I got.” You present to him a rectangular pink translucent tube, rose gold flakes decorating the inside with a clear gel. Donnie crosses his arms and smirks at you, amused at your actions.

“You came in here to show me your lipstick?” He laughs.

“First of all, it’s gloss, get it right. Second of all, yes! This one changes color based on your pH.” You mumble as you twist and turn the tube in between your fingers. “Kinda wanted you to explain how it works since you’re smart.” You roll the top off the gloss and apply a fresh coat on your lips, sliding and pressing them together to even out the application. Donnie watches with a tender smile, plucking the makeup from your fingers and reading over it.

“Well actually it’s all the same shade,” You can feel your mouth twitching into a smile, secretly always loving it whenever Donnie went into full explanation mode for something, even if you didn’t fully always understand it.

“The product formats that use the color-changing ingredients are usually anhydrous—“ He pauses when he sees you squint your eyes at him. “No water.” He adds, stepping closer and handing you back the tube. “So the pH shifts color due to the environment into a pink shade.”

You nod as you take back the lipgloss and put it back in your pocket, “Cool.” You respond and turn to glance at your reflection in a piece of metal. “Wonder how you’d look with it.” You comment offhandedly.

“Well it’s not exactly sanitary to share makeup products.” He chuckles. He can feel his heart start to pick up speed, the thought that came into his head suddenly making his palms sweat.

Donnie knows you have a crush on him, he may not be as perceptive as Raphael but he picks up on the signs you subtly try to hide away from him. Like how you falter for half a second whenever he says he saved you the last slice of pizza or how he wants you to be the first person to check out his latest invention because he loves your enthusiasm about them.

You try not to think too much on Donnie’s actions, not letting yourself believe that the smartest brother could possibly ever have feelings for you. No way. No how.

“So then what do you suggest we do?” You laugh, turning to look back at Donnie, being confused when you spot the sudden change in his demeanor. He’s twiddling his fingers in a circle, looking off to the side and rocking on the heels of his feet. He looks nervous? Hesitant also since it’s like he leans towards you but then backs up at the last second.

“Donnie?”

It’s now or never Einstein!

You barely have time to blink before Donnie has his mouth pressed to yours, gone before you can even register your shock and confusion. He smacks his lips together, tasting the gloss and spreading it to make it even.

“Wha… you— kissed? Me—?” You stammer, bringing a hand to your mouth as you stare wide eyed to your best friend. Donnie chuckles bashfully as his brain runs a mile a minute, finally looking back up and locking eyes with yours.

“Well, as I said, sharing products isn’t very sanitary, and I deemed this the best way for me to try your lipgloss. And if my calculations are correct, they usually are, you have a crush on me which is good because I also… have a crush on you.” He trails off quietly, anxiety ridden in his stomach as he watches you process his words.

“You… have a crush on me?” You whisper, frozen in your spot. He nods, trying to determine on whether or not he was actually wrong for the first time in his life.

“Can I kiss you again to prove it?” He suggests shyly. He has to hold in his laughter when you go to place your hand behind you on his workbench and end up pushing over some of his tools and papers. You let out a sound of surprise, quickly going to straighten it up but end up making more of a mess. Donnie lets a chuckle slip out and steps next to you to help out.

“Maybe we can start with a date first if that’s okay.” He suggests, smiling bright and blushing hard when you nod your head in agreement.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰🧡꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

“Revive me, revive me!!”

“I’m trying!!” You squeal in laughter, pressing buttons and inputting combos into your controller to get your character to move and make their way to Mikey, whose character was currently knocked unconscious on the ground, a comical rotating circle of stars above their head. Mikey bounces in his seat, tapping his feet rapidly against the floor as he watches in anticipation, getting more and more nervous when enemies continue to make their way towards you.

“Use your shield!” He cries out.

“Mikey stop, you’re stressing me!” You yell back, nearly on the edge of your seat as you swiftly dodge and evade the enemy attacks. You have to get to Mikey’s character quick, nearly less than 30 seconds before he completely disappears from the game and can only come back one you complete the level.

“Save me oh save me, my knight in shining armor!” He makes his voice high pitched, causing you to laugh and get hit with an attack, losing a good chunk of your health.

“NO!” You both screech, standing up from the couch.

Focusing all your attention, you maneuver and kill only the necessary enemies until you’re standing right on top of Mikey’s body, pressing a button to begin the revival process. Mikey’s muttering repeatedly to himself, his hands clenched tightly around his controller when suddenly—

“Yes! Yes!” He shouts, immediately countering any oncoming enemies. Within a few minutes you successfully complete the level, giving each other a sharp high five once you were back in the home world.

“Oh my Prince Charming, how can I ever repay you?” He puts the girlish voice back on, clasping his hands together and holding them against his cheek while he bats his eyes at you. You laugh and put a finger to your chin in mock thought, humming loudly and looking around.

“What can my fair lady offer?” You ask, deepening your voice and posing your fists against your hips. Mikey looks at you mischievously, getting an inch closer to you.

“How about a kiss?” He puckers his lips at you, making obnoxious kissing noises. You laugh shyly, pushing your finger against his forehead to move him back.

“Haha, very funny.” You retort, fighting the heat that creeps upon your cheeks.

“Aw, come on. You don’t want a kiss from a beautiful princess like me?”

Your heart skips, brain going into overdrive as you attempt to conjure up a response but coming up with nothing. Did he know about your crush on him? Was he trying to do tell you that he feels the same? Did he—

“Hey cutie, I can practically see the steam coming out your ears.” He playfully pokes at your cheek.

“Shouldn’t joke about kissing people, Mikey.” You grumble under your breath, feeling the way your face just goes up in flames. Mikey pouts at you and takes a gentle hold of your arm.

“But I’m not joking, I do want to kiss you.”

“Huh??”

He nods and tugs you the barest bit closer.

“I like you, you like me. Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”

The controller slips from your hand and clatters onto ground. You know Mikey isn’t playing around when his eyes don’t even break from yours to look down. The silence feels like it stretches in for eons.

“You… want to actually kiss me?”

He nods.

“Genuinely? You like me?”

Two nods this time.

“I… uh,”

“Please let me kiss you. Or should I take you out on a date first? It’s obvious I haven’t done this before. Maybe—“

“Mikey!” You cut him off, placing your hand on top of his, finding your fingers curling around his.

“Let’s start off with that date.” He grins at you, unable to stop himself from pecking your cheek in gratitude.

“Sounds like a deal, dude.”

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2003 #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #michelangelo x reader #my writings

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kunajou · 6 months

Text

❥ Beg For It, Petal.

» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut/fluff » PAIRING(S) › geto suguru x female!reader x gojo satoru » WORD(S) › 2.8k+ » SYNOPSIS › You simply want to make breakfast for your boyfriend's but they have something else in mind. » SMUT WARNING(S) › oral (female receiving), fingering, squirting, gojo & geto kissing, a smidge of dirty talking, allude to sub!geto, allude to anal, praise kink, begging, nicknames (petal, peach, love, pretty girl, honey, & gorgeous), loads of cuddling between the three of you, vacation vibes only! (half-ass edited so beware lol) » POST DATE › 03/21/2024

thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s) and like(s) are totally welcomed! › read more work here: masterlist ‹

It’s merely morning when the sun begins to rise, casting a surreal glow into the room. Your body and mind decide to stir as you wake from your slumber. The black curtains hardly catch the glare that hits your face when you try to turn over. It’s then that you realize you’re laid snug on top of Satoru. You can feel his even breath against your neck as he smushes his face against your chest. His grip on your waist is tight and it stops you from being able to turn like you want to.

“Stop.” Satoru groans when you shift your body, leaving Suguru to grab you from his arms (or more importantly, before you can get up to leave). His hold is much firmer than Satoru’, his face is buried in your neck and you can feel him press soft kisses against it.

“Pretty girl,” Suguru chuckles the moment you moan. “Where are you trying to go, honey?” His eyes remain closed, his voice is soft but raspy and for a second, you melt into his embrace as he smothers you closer to his chest. One of the things you love to do is simply listen to this beautiful man talk. His voice is so calming and reassuring that you often fall into this state of bliss. You appreciate the feelings both he and Satoru give you while you're tucked into their arms. A sense of safety and security that everything will be alright. You close your eyes and savor the moment, knowing this feels like home.

“You’re staring, baby.” He wolfishly grins, bringing his hand up to caress your bottom lip. “It’s still early… It's only eight and you’re already trying to leave us.” Glancing over at the clock on the dresser, you realize he's right. It's eight forty-three and honestly, you can use a little more sleep. “Sleep.”

“I want to get up though,” You whine as he only chuckles about how cute you are. You want to get up, take a shower, maybe even get breakfast started for them but you can't do that since Suguru won't let you go. “And It’s not that early, ‘Gu. I could be cooking breakfast right now. I’m hungry.” As if on cue your stomach growls, alerting him of the basic need that hasn't been met. “Suguru…”

“But I’d rather you stay here.” He peeks through his left eye to get a good look at you. The ray of sunlight shining through the balcony door just right to radiate not only the room but you too. An angel in disguise. He can't help but reach up to brush his thumb against the side of your cheek as you lean into his warmth. You can't lie, you love being sandwiched between both of them and right now is no different. “That’s why we hired people for this so you wouldn’t have to move a muscle, honey.”

“But I wanna do it…” You frown, “I-It’s not t-the same-”

“Oh, but It is.” You don't see the smirk present on his face the moment he feels you bury your face in the crook of his neck to attempt to hide. “It's okay to relax. It's your vacation as much as it's ours, Petal. Just sleep.” He says, settling back with you in tow and you lose your breath. You can’t believe how beautiful this man is. He laughs, leaning back to rest his head against the pillows again. You snuggle into his chest, tracing circles on his collarbone.

As time goes on, Suguru’s out like a light again, and you decide to maneuver yourself back between them to get comfortable. Both men snore, one louder than the other. You feel Satoru cuddle up into your back as his hand finds your stomach. He rubs against it as both play tug-a-war with your body to see who gets more to cuddle with.

The warmth feels good. And the butterflies in your stomach make you feel alive as you’re laid up and fiddling with Satoru’s fingers.

It's times like this you cherish. The moments where Suguru isn’t in one of his moods and Satoru isn’t off doing god knows what. And neither of them has to leave for days on end. It makes you wish you could stay like this forever and keep them chained to the bed but sadly, you can’t. At least not in the way you want to. Suguru might like it. Satoru? Not so much. Then again, who truly knows? As much sex as you and Satoru have, you haven’t tried that yet.

Which is surprising in itself and well, you make a mental note to visit a sex shop down the street from your apartment complex one of these days.

Glancing at the clock again, it's nine-ten and you can't justify laying in bed much longer than you have. You want to see the scenery and all that so you decide it's time to get up and shower. You can even feel the grime of last night's activities start to feel crusty and gross and you can't take it anymore. You run a couple of scenarios through your mind or rather, solutions so you can get up and move freely without waking your boys.

Solution one. Try with all your might to wiggle your way out of their grasp. In which, you do but that plan ends in utter failure when Suguru groans for you not to move again. He turns over to throw his arm over your waist to keep you still. And with Satoru's hand awkwardly sprawled on your ass, they've got you locked in place again.

Failure.

Solution two. Try to put a pillow in your place but, of course, that was also a failure because they can tell the difference. Hell, they won't even allow you to get up long enough to do the switch.

You're exasperated as you roll over to stare at the ceiling, groaning to no one but yourself. You glance to either side of you. They look adorable with Suguru’s face buried in your chest now and Satoru’s face mushed against the pillows, it makes his lips pucker. You just want to kiss both of them but right now is not the time.

Solution three. Try ripping yourself from their grasp. You try for about five minutes until you realize that's futile.

“Really?” It only serves to annoy you when you hear Satoru chuckle, no doubt listening to you struggle. And if he’s awake then you know Suguru is too even if he doesn’t utter a word. You just want to get up! Your stomach has been growling for a hot minute and you're hungry and gross and ugh!

“Just stay with us, Petal.” How can you say no to that? You don't know but you fix your mouth and tell them to get up when Satoru leans in close. His lips barely touch the skin of your neck and you can feel his gust of breath on your neck that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I was going to make us breakfast though…” You gasp the moment he nibbles against your ear, his warm hand resting against your thigh. So close to where you would like it to be but not right now. You try your best to sit up again but it’s no use. With them holding you the way that they are, you’re shit out of luck. “Well, can I at least take a shower?”

“Mm-mmh,” Suguru mumbles while kissing your shoulder. “Later...”

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend as a sigh falls from your lips. For both of them to be grown men, they’re acting like straight children right now but giving up is the last thing you want to do. Hunger overtakes everything. So you wait, somewhat impatiently for what seems like hours. You knew they were going to fall asleep again soon.

It was just a matter of time.

You end up wasting time on your phone, playing some mobile game Satoru told you to download until you hear both men snoring a little louder than before.

With a shift of their bodies, you're finally able to slip out of their arms to get to the bathroom. You made it your mission to take a quick shower, trying to figure out what you want for breakfast. You don't want to linger in case they wake from their slumber again and try to tug you back into bed. Or you know, in case they decided to hop in the shower with you because breakfast will never be made then.

“Aww,” You coo, seeing them closer with Satoru’s face buried in Suguru’s neck while his leg is hiked onto his front. The blanket covers nothing but their lower half. his arm loosely draped over his tiny waist. Suguru’s waist was a gift from the heavens, you loved it. Especially whenever he’d wrap your legs around it.

You quickly shake those thoughts before they even enter your mind, instead, you snap a picture to tease them later.

Waltzing over to the drawer, you pull out one of their band shirts, a random one they let you have (since they had so many), and settle for some black panties. Being comfortable was the main thing.

Stepping out, you close the door quietly and start toward the kitchen. Searching through the fridge to find something to make something simple came to mind, a little bit of both of their favorites.

You're so into what you are cooking, that you don’t hear the door to the suite bedroom open. You also don’t hear either man making their way to the kitchen.

“Baby?” Satoru whines, wrapping his arms around your waist. You’re startled, mind drawing blanks as you almost drop the hot skillet.

“J-Jesus,” You giggle, turning to face him to push him away, “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru smiles. He peppers kisses down your neck as his hands caress your inner thighs and you can feel the start of his bulge poking into your ass. Suguru stands from the island and pulls you to stand in front of him while Satoru sandwiches you from behind.

“I’m trying to cook,” You whine, feeling Satoru’s hand dip into boy shorts as he rubs his finger over your slit. You throw your head back with a soft moan. Suguru steps away long enough to turn off the stove so the food doesn’t burn, but he steps forward to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist to sit you on the counter. Neither one says a word, Satoru attacking your neck to hear you groan as Suguru kisses your lips, your body melting into their touches, “I just wanna finish cooking...”

“Maybe we just want you for breakfast,” Satoru growls, nipping at your earlobe before yanking your underwear down and off your body.

“You can finish after we’re done,“ Suguru teases, “You’re already so wet for us, Petal.”

“Fuck yeah, she is,” Satoru smirks, tilting his head so he could get a good look at you. You’re blushing softly, the tint of red turning you into a tomato. “Was it from me touching you or is it the thought of what we’re going to do to you.”

“What’s turning you on, baby?”

“‘Toru…” You don’t want to say it out loud, resulting in you simply nodding your head. Of course, they’re not falling for it. Suguru grips your chin a little harshly but you can’t help but nibble on your bottom lip. Your cunt clenching around absolutely nothing at the blatant show of dominance. Satoru knows that look on your face, you’re slowly falling into that headspace of yours but Satoru doesn’t want you to completely lose yourself.

At least, not yet.

“Words baby,” Suguru mutters, kissing the corner of your mouth once you take a deep breath to try and ground yourself.

‘We need to hear you, Peach.”

“Yeah! Yes! Please…” You’re breathless as you throw your arms around Suguru who gets a grip on your thighs to be able to pick up and move you to the kitchen island. You’re going to need more room for the orgasm he’s about to give you. Your hips buck the moment he starts to slowly ease his middle finger inside you.

“So tight.” Suguru places kisses on your trembling thighs, and all the while, Satoru hops onto the island to settle behind you. He’s glad he sent the chef and maid away for a couple more hours. Let’s be real though, they would have gladly given them a show too. He didn’t care but he knows you do.

“You’re so wet, Peach.”

“She’s sucking my fingers right in.”

Satoru chuckles, bringing his finger to press into your clit before rubbing it while Suguru's fingers continued to pump in and out of your cunt. The sounds cause both men to grow hornier as they watch your orgasm build, you're falling back against Satoru’s chest as he moves to the area above your clit. Suguru takes the opportunity to roll his tongue over your clit before flicking it a couple of times.

“That’s it, love.” Satoru kisses his way down your neck as your mouth falls open and your breathing continues to pick up. You’re right there if the way you try to squeeze your thighs around his hand and Suguru’s head says anything. It’s so hot. Fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous. “Let Sugu take care of you. Feels good doesn’t it?”

You moan in response, reaching for Satoru to bring him closer for a heated kiss. Your eyes close as he wastes no time, his tongue dancing with yours for dominance but ultimately winning.

“Taste sweet.” You throw your head back once more when Satoru starts to play with your bottom lip, gently running his thumb over it. You take it into your mouth, rolling it around your tongue and sucking on it lightly. You can feel how hard he is in your back, wanting to take care of them like they were taking care of you. You let go of his thumb with a soft pop as Suguru leans up to face both of you and quickly runs his palm back and forth over your clit.

“Please- ‘m- Fuck!”

“That’s it,” Satoru teases, running his tongue up your neck and over that spot that makes you shudder. “Don’t be shy, love.”

“Let it out, Petal. Let us hear you.” He whispers, looking at Satoru whose eyes are fixated on you. He wants to taste you until you scream their names. Nibble at your exposed skin until you’re whining for him to stop. He loves the sex-crazed look you get in your eye when you’re about to cum, especially when it’s directed towards him.

Their faces are so close that Suguru's lips hover not quite touching yours as Satoru is still buried in your neck.

You’re fucking dripping onto the counter, their goal obvious once they catch each other's eyes again and smirk.

“You going to squirt for us, Petal?” Suguru keeps going, hearing you whine but your moans grow louder the moment your body lets go. He leans down, not wanting it to go to waste as his hands slow down but his tongue makes up the work. He continues to lap at your pussy as Satoru watches with sharp lust-filled eyes.

“Taste good?” Satoru asks as Suguru smirks, giving your pussy a lasting kiss before coming up to meet you and Satoru. It doesn’t take long for Satory to grip his chin to tug him closer. Running his tongue from his chin to his mouth before making out and tasting you all on Sugur’s tongue. Satoru moans into the kiss as Suguru deepens it, all the while, you try to catch your breath before leaning forward to rub Suguru through his boxers.

“Fuck…” Suguru gasps, feeling you lap at his neck while Satoru still has his tongue in his mouth.

This is fucking heaven and god, he doesn’t want to break this.

“Beg for it,” Satoru smirks, pulling away from Suguru but keeping him close enough to feel his breath on his lips. “Beg us to take care of you.” You give Suguru’s cock a gentle squeeze before leaning back against Satoru’s hard chest.

Suguru closes his eyes, swearing he could cum right now. Your gaze is so intense that he knows he’s going to be in for it once you get back to the room.

“Satoru. Petal. Please touch me.” He’s practically begging both of you to do what you want with him.

“You think that was good enough, Peach?”

You grin, pushing him down to kneel in front of you.

“I think you can do better than that.”

Satoru hums as both of you stand in front of Suguru with wide grins on your face.

“I know he can too. Guess we’re going to have to fuck it out of him, right Suguru?”

And god, does Suguru's mind grow completely cloudy just thinking about it.

He can’t fucking wait.

#❛ 🌷 𝚌𝚢𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 🖊 ❜#suguru geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #suguru geto x gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru geto #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #satosugu #suguru x reader x satoru #jjk

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zer0wzs · 2 months

Text

𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣 ("𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮!")

[ gn!reader ] it's your birthday and your boyfriend is unfortunately not physically present. however, some other people have plans. jason todd x reader [ also heavy reader & batfam i guess ] wc: 2018 cws: n/a!

an: was supposed to post this on my birthday almost two weeks ago but i couldn't finish it on time because of a lot of stuff LOL

As you sip on your coffee, you finally take a look at your messages.

It’s empty for the most part—save for a few birthday greetings from friends and a few messages from scammers about how you won a car (jokes on them; you don’t even have a license!). There’s one message that catches your eye immediately, though.

j 🫀 | 00:00 happy birthday baby 💖💘🫶🫶 really sad that i still wont be home for a couple more days i’m gonna make it up to you every way possible i’m all yours when i get back 💘

You find yourself smiling at his messages—of course because of the content of the text itself, but also for a lot of other things, from how he greeted you at the exact moment of your birthday to how he’s picked up some of your texting mannerisms to his very limited amount of number of messages compared to yours.

You | 09:03 awwwwsshwhJSJFHG 💖💖💖 i love you so much jay!!! imysm pls love come backk… 😞😞😞 ur team better use their time with u wisely u quite literally wont escape me once you step foot back in our apartment

Not giving much more thought to your reply, you continue on with your work, thinking on the side what you’ll do after. Your friends aren’t coming over; they’ve been assigned to meet on Saturday so that you have the whole day to yourselves. Still, you feel like treating yourself a little.

Curing this thought, you find that after work, you gravitate towards the hominess of your favorite thrift store. The owner is an older man who keeps the place the same as it has been since its establishment years ago.

The selection is far from filtered, a completely random selection for the most part, but it adds to the charm. However, his daughters usually help out, and you get to chat with them. They’ve known you as a regular now.

You slip a pair of headphones on and get to work, sifting through a few racks of clothes, shelves of trinkets, and stacks of records. Your jacket, or rather a coat, is wrapped around your waist to make your awfully formal self stand out less in the sea of people in the cozy shop.

You pick up some things mostly for yourself, but a few also with Jason in mind. No reason in particular, but if he asks, it's a welcome-back gift. You found a vinyl pressing of Comalies by Lacuna Coil—something you vaguely remember that he’s been looking for a while now.

Speaking of him, you mindlessly open your phone, hoping to see a message from him.

Nothing. Oh, well.

The walk is only a few blocks away, but your arms are slightly worn from the sifting through the aisles of items. You’re sure you’ll make it, though, even if the bags full of finds weigh a little heavy in your hands. Once you make it to your floor, you can just feel the exhaustion radiating from your arms. You could use a nap right now,

“YN!” You see Steph jump the moment you turn the lights on.

The whole apartment is decorated, decked in classic birthday decor—like balloons and banners. You note a few heads rising from the place they previously were from.

You know, coffee’s good, too. It’s only 6 PM.

As you eye around the room, the picture becomes clear: there are quite a few members of Jason’s family here—notably Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian.

They all look at each other, uneasy. A moment later, a garbled chorus of birthday greetings is shouted.

“Thank you. I’m flattered.” You mumbled, setting your bag of thrifted goods down as you closed the door. “How did you all get here, though-”

“Good question.” Steph nervously laughed, leaping to your side and hooking an arm around you. At this point, the rest of the family wave their hellos before finalizing a few pieces of decoration. “Come on! We made dinner—or, well, Alfred did.”

“Oh, is he here? Where is he?” You said, your lips turning to a smile. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, you recalled.

“Sorry, he’s at the mansion, busy tending to the old man.” Steph sighed, noticing your excitement.

“Ah,” you nod, still very up in your head. You’re overwhelmed, frankly, but still grateful as ever. To be honest, you’re not the best at receiving surprises like this. “Thank you, though. I’m just a little, well, surprised.”

“Of course,” Dick hummed, quickly joining the conversation between the two of you. “We knew Jason couldn’t make it, and we really wanted you to enjoy your birthday somehow. You’ve done a lot for him and for us as well.”

“Oh, thank you, but it isn’t a huge—”

You’re not even in your kitchen when Damian appears in front of you with a stoic look on his face. If this whole thing was set when you first met Jason, you would’ve thought that he did not want to be here and did not like you at all.

Rest assured, though, his siblings say otherwise. They enjoy teasing him and telling you that he searches for your company from time to time. One time, Dick said he was near deadset on inviting you to Gotham Zoo, seeing how they had your favorite animal sheltered there recently.

“Do you need any assistance with those bags?” He looked at you, eyes flicking down to the plastic bags in your hands.

You shake your head, making strides towards the hallway. “Um, no, thank you. I’m just going to carry these to my bedroom-”

Immediately, he steps in and grabs them. “You shouldn’t exert yourself any further. It’s your birthday, after all. I’ll be taking these.”

Oh. Okay. You stand there a little dumbfounded but nodding. It’s not like you can’t stop him either; he’s already making his way to your room.

Your phone buzzes. You open to see it. It’s from Jason. You sigh, knowing he won’t be able to make it.

j 🫀 | 18:24 i’ll be back really soon don’t you worry 💖

Attached to his message is a video. While the others are distracted, you lower your phone’s volume to watch it. You can just feel the embarrassment on his face as he records a video of himself singing Happy Birthday to you behind some dingy place.

How the hell did he even send it from there? Oh, the wonders of reception, you supposed.

You quickly type out a response for him, rocking from the balls of your heels to your toes with your lips only spread out. You couldn’t wait for “a few more days” or something. You also tell him how his family threw a last-minute birthday party and how you can’t be any happier (It just really isn’t visible with the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders.).

“Is everything all right now?” You hear Dick ask Duke, Cass, and Tim from behind you. You turn around to see them giving him an affirmative yes.

“All right then,” he grins. Steph is pulling a cake from your fridge, and it's only now that you realize that your countertop is filled with your favorite cuisines by Alfred. You worry about the amount of time this took up on top of the rest of the tasks he has to tend to.

They all sing a happy birthday to you, a mixture of liveliness and yet also idleness, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything nonetheless. Sure, your brain might be more than overloaded at this point, but you’re just thankful that they made the collective effort to celebrate your birthday.

It makes you feel a little bad because of all of the trouble you’re more than certain had arisen because of this, but you push that thought back. They don’t need to hear that.

All six of them are standing in front of you, and it only denies your fears of being alienated and inconsequential to the greats who are the family before you. You’re not sure why or how they accepted you wholeheartedly, but God, do you not just take the love that they give?

Your phone rings, and you look to see who it is. You pick up—it’s Jason.

You notice how Steph wants to go back to you once more, but you mumble an apology to her, telling her that your boyfriend was calling. She nodded and headed over to Duke to, what you can assume, is chit-chat.

“Hello! Good evening, Jay-love,” you hum.

Your viewpoints to Dick, who looks at you curiously. Your voice is far from loud, and you do not want to disrupt anything, so you mouth Jason’s name to him before he nods and continues talking to Tim, Cass joining in.

“Hey, baby, happy birthday,” a few words follow, but you can’t hear much because of the chattering around you.

“Ah, thank you. I miss you,” you chuckled. “Could you come again, though? I can’t hear well.”

You hear a chuckle from the other end. “No, it’s fine. I was just saying that I really wish I was there right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply half-mindedly, looking over the group. “Your family’s really sweet. I feel cared for.”

“You are. How could someone not like ya’?”

“Thanks.” You giggle in reply. You play with the ends of your shirt while talking to him, finding yourself leaning against a wall. Breaking the conversation from the sudden end, you spoke up. “So, when again are you coming back?”

“Real soon. Promise.”

“Would it kill you to be a little bit specific? I’m asking you a-” You stand there, giggling, but the banter stops among the family when two hands cover your field of vision completely.

“Guess who.”

Immediately, you know. From his voice to the callouses on his fingertips to the warmth radiating behind you.

“You’re too old to be saying that.” You spit back, not thinking twice about what you were saying.

You hear a dramatic, exaggerated scoff from behind you as his hands pull themselves away. You turn back but do note how everyone’s eyes are fixed on you and the man behind. Only whispers could be heard—you feel your ears redden.

Despite this, have you ever had the ability to contain yourself around him? You dive straight into him and pull him tight. For the first time in a really long while, he’s here. He’s here, he’s real, and you’re not wasting a single second of it.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles on top of your head. He shifts you two so that his back is faced towards his family. “I’m really sorry that it took so long-”

“Tsk,” you put a finger to his lips, taking a step back with his hands finding their way down your waist. “Uh-uh, it’s my birthday, and I want none of that.”

“Okay, okay,” he sighed, a hand climbing up your spine and finding itself on your cheek as the thumb caressed the edges and crevices of you.

“Thank you.” You put a hand on top of his.

“Of course, birthday love.”

On your tiptoes, you give him a peck on the cheek after he redirects you to his lips, discontented with the first kiss from when he came back being so brief. It only lasts a few seconds, but you know you’re gonna get more later.

You feel a tenderness pool inside of you. There’s something about the way he gazes at you—so full of love, so full of admiration you can’t help but give back—that makes you forget that you’re just feet away from his family.

“About the party,” he cleared his throat, hand finding your lower back as you rejoin the rest of the group. “I was the one who orchestrated it.”

You hear a loud gasp from Tim. “Um, no? I was the one who had the idea.”

“I was actually the one who helped spark that idea?” Steph joined. “I think I deserve at least some credit here.

You find yourself standing in a room, never feeling more loved than now.

#zero's writing °｡⋆⸜ ✮#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

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SWEET LIKE SUGAR | 03

summary; your first introductions don't go as planned, putting a dampener on some otherwise good news.

word count; 12,179

notes; y'all's patience for this has been incredible, it really has been a criminal amount of time since the last update. hopefully the next one comes sooner lol but enjoy!!

The many shopping bags dangling from your arms rustled as you hurried up the front steps of the new house you called home. Over a week had passed, a full week of your new life that was still taking some effort to get used to, and yet, things finally seemed to be looking up.

Clutched in your hands, the most prized of every new acquisition you’d made today. No matter how many paper bags filled with new clothes and decor hung from your tired arms, the small bakery box with four cupcakes inside was by far the best. This time next week, you’d be serving the cupcakes.

A real job, earning your own money, to pay your own way.

It was almost shocking, just how quickly your life had changed, how right Azriel had been about it. Doors that would have been shut to you as soon as you registered the house to be billed to, the district you’d lived in, were all open now. Sneers and stares had been swapped for smiles and polite greetings, and although you hated that prejudice had existed at all, Azriel was right.

You couldn't wait to tell him so.

Clearing the final few steps and teetering up the porch, the door swung open free of latch or key when you twisted the doorknob. Azriel was home, then.

You had hardly kicked off your shoes beside the door in your excitement, toeing it shut, when the voices from the living room finally met your ears. Your head was still spinning, nothing in you telling you to halt, or to consider just who the people Azriel might be meeting with were, before you were spinning around that corner, smile on your face, and coming face to face with the High Lord and the Commander of the Court’s armies.

Their gazes moved to you, Azriel’s back to you but he finally turned to look over his shoulder, the room falling silent as all attention moved to you, and your throat bobbed at the weight of it. Cassian shuffled on the couch, and Rhysand only adjusted the angle he was perched at on the arm, to look further around Azriel at you. His stare was piercing, assessing, and you found yourself shrinking under it a little, clearing your throat and dragging your gaze to your housemate.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting. I’ll come back later, Az. I’ll just head upstairs.” Your palms were sweating, but it didn’t feel right to just ignore the other people in the room, not when their presences alone were so powerful they practically filled it. Setting down one arm’s worth of shopping bags and the boxes of pastries carefully, you padded to the centre of the room, holding your hand out halfway between them. “High Lord, General. My apologies, again. It has been an honour to meet you both, though.”

Neither moved, both just stared, your arm trembling for just a second as the moment dragged on, and neither moved to shake your hand. After too many silent seconds, heat rose to your cheeks, and you pulled your hand back, stepping backwards a couple of steps. Perhaps it had been too informal, perhaps you’d offended them in some way, but when Rhysand gave a huff that sounded displeased, you were sure it wasn’t just you sensing the tension anymore.

“An honour, I’m sure.” The High Lord muttered, your eyes widening a little, gaze shooting to Azriel as he stepped up to your side, slipping the other bags from your hands as that one began to shake too, and setting them down with the rest.

“Rhysand!” Azriel snapped, a tone in his voice that you’d never heard before, and the shock of it only sent another bout of anxiousness coursing through you. “Be polite.”

His brother only shrugged casually, like he’d been asked the weather forecast, and picked at one of his cuticles, bored. “I am being polite. As polite as I can be, anyway.”

It was a lie, thick and heavy as that penetrating violet stare found you again. You’d heard the rumours, about how charming the High Lord of Night could be, and this certainly was not him. You tried another smile anyway, and shied your gaze away from the Lord to the General. He didn’t return it, only crossing his impressive arms over a powerful chest, his size a terrifying display, only made worse by his own glare.

Clammy sweat began to bead along your back, and you shuffled a little closer to Azriel’s side. His arm pressed to your own, the back of his palm brushing yours as it hung at his side, and it was enough comfort to at least take one deep lungful of air, before your ruler spoke again; “What is it that you want?”

“Huh?” It was impolite, and informal, but you were confused, the sound tumbling from you faster than you could stop it, and you only winced at the slight tensing of the man who’d asked it. His companion only snarled at your accidental impertinence.

“Cass…” Azriel growled back, low and under his breath, his fingers threading gently through your own. You clung to him, so tight you were sure you’d cut off blood flow, your knuckles likely white, but you needed him to anchor you right now.

“What, Azriel?” The tension was so thick it was stifling, you could hardly breathe. Your muscles were wound tight to stop your whole body from shaking, a nervous response, and yet somehow, you still felt like you were going to shatter at any moment. “You got yourself a fucking sugar baby! Excuse me for being concerned about what she actually wants from you!”

“She is not a sugar baby!” Your head spun, your body swaying a little, and you could’ve cried merely at Azriel’s defence of you. You could cry right now, anyway. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, every word forming too slowly in your head to stand up for yourself, to even understand what was going on. Thinking alone merely felt like wading through treacle, right now.

“So, you didn’t give her the money for whatever is in those shopping bags, then?” Rhysand waved a lazy hand at your purchases, your face flushing once again, and Cassian raised a brow in a challenge, both standing united against Azriel in their questioning. Against you.

Yes, technically, you supposed Azriel did pay, but—

“That’s what I thought.” Rhysand sneered, cutting off your line of thought, and Azriel growled once again, a deeper sound, a more predatory warning. “Stay the fuck out of her head, Rhys.”

“My head?” Your squeak was embarrassing but you were too overwhelmed to care. Rhysand only scoffed, brushing invisible lint from his shoulder while Cassian rolled his eyes. Your stomach was rolling over, and you felt like the very air was being squeezed from your lungs, emotions clogging and stinging at your throat. Under their watchful eye, you’d never felt so small, so insecure, so powerless.

“Picture a wall building around your mind.” Azriel’s voice had softened, his breath brushing over your hairline, and you wanted to turn to him, to sink into his honeyed gaze where you knew you’d find a friend, in hopes it would calm the visible full body shakes now, bring you back into your own skin. But, you couldn't look away, feeling like you were stuck on the High Lord, unable to even move. “Picture it. Don’t focus on anything else, brick by brick, build that wall. Keep building it, thicker and thicker. Work on it until they leave, I’ll explain later.”

A jerky nod was the best you could manage, and Azriel left a kiss on your temple on confirmation as you mentally laid down the first few bricks.

“This is none of your business.” His voice hardened again, and you lost focus, cursing yourself mentally as you lost it all, the wall crumbling to dust in your mind’s eye. You could feel it, then. Feel that presence, the one that made you feel like you were being pushed out of your one body, the cramped feeling.

He was there, embarrassment flooding you at how flawlessly he witnessed your internal struggle. He didn’t even try to prove at your thoughts again, just watching you struggle from inside your own mind, like it was nothing to him at all.

Grasping Azriel’s hand with your other, clutching it in both now, he flexed his fingers reassuringly to you, and you tried again to do as you’d been told. One full wall, and when Rhysand finally looked away from you, you were able to snap your mind to the carpet, staring at the floor by your bare feet instead.

“It certainly is my business. If she’s manipulating you, we’re all at risk!”

Your flinch at his shout was unstoppable. You were so wary of his powers, so frightened of Cassian sitting on the couch—

“She should be wary of my abilities, she should be terrified of Cassian!” His gaze turned back to you when you looked in horror, and you could feel the faint trickles of his horrid amusement as you realised once again you’d lost focus, lost that wall. You blinked back tears, unwilling to sink that low before them, to fall any further in their eyes.

In your peripherals, Cassian’s arms uncrossed and he shuffled, but you were locked once again, having made the mistake to look at Rhysand again, and being unable to move away. Shadows twisted at your legs, your arms, your joined hands, drifting off of him in cool and calming waves, binding you to him, comforting you silently. You moved your attention back to that wall once again.

“Whatever she did to you, Az, tell us! Whatever she’s holding over you, we can get you out of it, we can help you!” The warlord only grunted his agreement, shattering your focus with a single sound. And so, you started again.

Silence. Silence dragged on longer this time, longer than any moment before.

Azriel’s wings ruffled as he pulled them in closer, his hand tightened around your own. “It was my idea.”

“What?” They both spoke at once, incredulous and unbelieving. But you dragged in a shaky breath at the shift of power in the room, just for a split second, as he cough them off guard with his declaration.

“It was my idea,” Azriel said again, with that lethal, icy calm. Azriel tucked you a little closer to him, a little behind his body, shielding you from them with a wing. “It was my idea to walk her home that night, it was my idea to bring her back here. It was me who convinced her to stay after she found out who I was. It was me who took her into my bed. It was me who made the offer.”

Silence, again. You’d once loved silence, now, you hated the way it felt like it was crawling across your skin, burrowing into the cracks and seeping through pores.

“It was all me.”

That statement settled over the room, only seeming to heighten everything, until you were sure the sound of your heart pounding was drawing out everything else, even the bustle from the streets outside. Finally, Rhysand snarled a sound of utter disgust.

“This is ridiculous, Azriel! Can’t you see that?” Azriel did not deign to reply, and when the room became stagnant, the air almost unbreathable, it seemed the conversation had come to an end. Standing and sliding his hands into his pockets, Rhysand took a few steps closer to you both. Azriel tucked you further behind his back as Cassian followed. “Fine. Do as you please, Azriel. Let’s see how the rest of the family reacts at dinner on Saturday.”

With little else, Rhysand stalked past, not even bothering a sigh in your direction. Meaningless, inconsequential, nothing. That’s what you were to him. Cassian lingered, and you dared not to look up this time, before hearing him follow only a second later, the front door slamming shut behind him. Two sets of wings took off into the air a second later, and as they went, the heaviness in the room seemed to be sucked right out with them.

When the beating of wings finally faded, Azriel dropped your hand, spinning to you. Your face was cupped in two warm hands, guided up to meet his panicked gaze, and you still felt a little numb, shaking yourself out all the way down to your fingers, as if to regain control of your body.

“I’m so sorry. Fuck, that was awful. I didn’t want you to come back to that, that’s not what I wanted to happen at all. I’m so sorry about them. Are you okay?” Azriel’s rambling came with a tremble to his own hands, and he leaned down, brushing a delicate kiss across both of your heat-stained cheeks. Sliding your hands up to cover his on your face, you finally nodded.

“Your friends don’t seem to like me very much.” You finally choked out, voice raw like you’d been singing at the top of your lungs for hours, or screaming over a crowd, and Azriel gave an equally raspy laugh. His only response was sliding his hands to your waist, and tugging you into his chest, a tight embrace.

“I don’t know why.”

“It’s okay.” You sighed, burying your face into his chest, feeling the siphon under his clothes pull with a power. “It makes sense. They think I’m using you.”

“They didn’t even let me explain! They just assume I was weak enough to let a beautiful woman manipulate me. It makes me feel like they don’t trust me, at all.” Your heart fluttered at his words, even if they were spoken with rage and anger, they still held sweetness for you, and you squeezed him once more, before stepping back from his arms, just a little.

He was all but shaking with rage, and you rolled onto your tiptoes, leaving a kiss to match the ones he’d given you upon his cheek, and he tried his best to give a small smile. It looked more like a grimace, but you appreciated it nonetheless. “Let me show you what I bought today, would that cheer you up?”

“Yes.” He mumbled, but finally came a genuine smile from him, even if it was tiny, it was something.

Scooping up the bags for you, you were left only with the small bakery box, waving it lightly in your hands as he carried your begs further into the room and placing them beside the coffee table. “This is a little treat for us later, I hope you have a sweet tooth,”

Azriel shrugged, lips pressed shut, and you were sure a soft pink was forming on his cheekbones. “I like sweet things.”

Your eyes narrowed on him a little, closing the space between you both until you were pinching his cheek, his blush deepening as he scowled, pushing your hand away when you giggled. “Oh, so tough. Big bad spymaster, I bet you love desserts and pastries and sugar.”

“I like it a normal amount.” He deflected, catching your other hand by the wrist when you lifted it to his other cheek, and pinning them both at your sides. The scowl melted into a smile, despite how hard he tried, and your grin only stretched wider. “Oh, shut up. You should be grateful, if I didn’t like sweet things so much, you wouldn't be here!”

It was your turn to blush, your jaw dropping a little as heat crawled over your face. He raised both hands, pinching your cheek and shaking your face side to side. When you slapped his hands away, he only laughed.

“Not so fun, is it?”

“Shut it, shadowsinger.”

His grin only got wider, and he reached for a bag, swiping up whichever his fingers found first and holding it out to you. Taking it from him after putting down the pastry box, you opened up the paper bag, peering inside at whatever you’d purchased. Fishing out the first item, you presented it to him, his brows crawling up.

“Table mats!”

“Table mats?” He repeated, taking the bundle from you and tugging lightly at the twine string holding them shut. The set of eight opened up after the strings came loose, and he examined each one. A lightwood mat, with the mountain range of the Night Court carved into the surface of each one, clean and beautiful polished wood under his fingertips. “I like them.”

“Yeah?”

You could only smile, pulling out the next item, one that matched. “Good, because I also got matching coasters!” On each coaster, one mountain sat with the three stars carved over the top, the crest of their Court, and he rubbed his thumb across it. “They’re perfect.”

“I also bought some mugs!”

“I have mugs.” You only scoffed, beginning to root through the bags on the floor beside the table until one clinked, the cups and saucers inside.

“You have… very simplistic mugs.” His arms crossed over his chest.

“Because they’re plain white and aren’t weirdly shaped?” Producing the mugs and saucers, his lips pressed together to conceal a laugh. “What are those?”

“Mugs and saucers!”

“Saucers are supposed to be around, not square! And why are the mugs striped?” He took one from your hands, inspecting it closely. “A mug is a functional item, why does it have a quote painted on the front?”

He turned it around, forcing you to look at the words across the front, the exact reason you’d chosen it, and your answering beam seemed to answer his question.

“‘I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right’. Really?”

“Now look at mine!” You handed it over to him, yours with blue polka-dots instead of stripes, and he gagged loudly as he read the words.

“‘Follow your dreams, they know the way’? That’s awful.” He threw it, the mug bouncing across the couch cushions, and you caught it just before it could fall to the floor, loud bursts of laughter spilling from your lips as he shook his head. “You can’t live here anymore. You have to get out. Right now. And take your terrible mugs with you.”

“But there’s more!”

“More?” He groaned, loudly, head tipping back, and when you leaned in to jab at his shoulder, he grabbed your arm, tugging you closer. Your squeal was lost to laughter as he pinched at your side instead, stealing your intended attack and making you squirm, checking him with your hip as he did it again, an inch higher. “How many more will you inflict upon my poor cupboards?”

“I got four in total!” His assault stopped after the third pinch, your back to his chest as his arm banded around your body, holding you there until the giggles faded. “I promise, I have other stuff, stuff you’ll like.”

“How can I possibly trust your taste, now?”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I? I must have reasonably decent taste, at least.” The pinching started again, until you squirmed away to the floor, gasping for breath and kicking at his ankles as you swiped for the next bag. “You’re a menace!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just see the next bag.”

Despite his insults of your mugs and plates, you couldn't bring yourself to care, because that tension had slipped out of his shoulders once again, and he was smiling. Smiling like he’d never known a trouble in the world, smiling like nothing had gone wrong today. As he sank to kneel before you on the floor, you fetched the next bag, setting it between your bodies.

And so, the next several hours followed, the world melting away as you went through each purchase, showing Azriel everything from new candles that smelled like pumpkins and spices, to a throw blanket for the bed, to a new set of notebooks and pens.

Your new clothes had been folded and set in piles, and you left Azriel to wash and put away your ‘interesting’ kitchenware as you carried your new clothes up to your drawers. You’d never owned so much in the way of lovely clothes, the fabric and weaving market of Velaris were like nothing you’d ever seen before.

When you reemerged, Azriel was standing in the living room, hands on his hips and staring at the floor. His brows were furrowed a little bit, all the empty bags had been picked up and were now sitting in a stack in his armchair, the considerable number threatening to topple over. He looked a little overwhelmed, rubbing a hand across his jaw, and your lip caught between your teeth as you stepped into the doorway.

“Is it too much?”

“What?” His hand returned to his hip from his jaw, as his gaze moved to you.

Waving a hand idly around in a motion of the house, you gave a small smile. “Everything I bought, is it too much?”

His eyes widened slightly, before he was making his way across the room, shaking his head. He stared for a second, frozen in motion but you could see the thoughts flicking through his eyes, before finally, he gave a heavy sigh; “I’ve never had matching mugs with someone before. My chest is tight.”

Your thoughts halted for a moment, a vulnerable look on his face as you studied him, his fingers twitching by his sides anxiously as he held your stare. Rubbing a hand over his chest for something to do, you took his hand in both of your own, rubbing your thumbs across the back of his palm. “That’s so cute, Az.”

“It’s cute?” His cheeks were growing redder by the second, and you squeezed his hand, “It’s pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic! I’ve never had matching mugs with someone either.” He only rolled his eyes, but his fingers finally curled around your own.

“It’s not just the mugs. The mugs are a metaphor.” That furrow was back between his brows, the blush spreading down his jaw, and you rubbed that crease softly with one finger.

“I know. I’ve never had the metaphor, either.”

Silence fell between you both, and Azriel’s blush finally went down, until he no longer wore that expression, but was relaxed once again. His hand tightened around yours, tugging you forward, through the living room. “I laid out the rug.”

“The rug?” Your gaze fell to where he’d been standing, the new woven rug made from the softest materials you’d ever encountered was now laid out beneath the coffee table, centred perfectly before the chairs and the couch. “My rug. That was for my room.”

“What?”

“The rug, you don’t have to put it down here. I don’t want to change your whole house, Az. I just bought a coupla’ things, things I thought would make you chuckle, like the cheesy mugs.”

“But it looks so good here.” With another step, he was on the rug bare feet digging into the threads, and tugging you forward, too. Toeing off your shoes, you copied, toes digging into the soft rug, copying the little steps he was making in the plush material. “I want you to put your little touches all over this place if it makes you happy.”

Something inside of you turned to mush at that, and you looked down, seeing only the motions you both made as you shuffled across the rug, gentle laughter filling the space as you admired it. The day may not have been the best, but Azriel seemed at last a little more cheered. That lingering sadness underneath seemed to last, though.

“Wanna’ go make dinner? We can have anything you want.”

He stepped away, leaving you to follow him as he made his way to the kitchen, and you almost had to jog to keep up with his long strides. “Hm, how about a cheese toastie?”

“A cheese toastie? C’mon, at least give me a little bit of a challenge!” Despite his protests, Azriel was before the fridge, pulling out a thick loaf of bread and several kinds of cheese, beginning to stack ingredients along the counter.

“Fine, how about a cheese toastie and some soup?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, face a blank portrait and somehow still conveying subtle judgement, tutting under his breath. “Hey! I’ll have you know that making a good soup is challenging!”

“I’ll have you know, that I’m excellent at cooking, and I’m about to make you the best soup you’ve ever had.”

“Big claims,” You smirked, hopping up onto the counter and swinging your legs, watching as he retrieved a large pot from the cupboards, adding some water and setting it to boil on the stove. “You sure you can handle it?”

“You just watch me handle it.”

Your tongue stuck out, his matching it, and laughter filled the kitchen as he set to work. As Azriel chopped, sliced and peeled the vegetables, adding seasoning and spices, you set to work on slicing the bread and cheeses. When it was done, he retrieved them from you, stacking the bread and fillings up, and finding a pan to start grilling.

“Make yourself useful and go lay the table.”

“Make myself useful?” A single swat to the arm, and Azriel was grinning to himself as he stirred the soup. “You are the one who keeps telling me that you’re the chef, I would be helping if you’d let me!”

“And now I’m letting you. Letting you set the table. You’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome, yeah, whatever.” You mocked, tugging open the cutlery drawer, gathering cutlery and plates, laying them out on the table. Glasses of water followed, and then you were back, peering over Azriel’s shoulder as he flipped over the two toasties, melted cheese dripping from the edges and making your mouth water. “Smells good.”

“Hm.” He grabbed for another spoon, scooping some out of the bubbling soup, and turning. Holding it up to your lips, all teasing was gone, and you parted your lips, letting him push the spoon between them slowly. Pulling it back, he waited as you swallowed, considering the flavour. “Good?”

“Really good.”

“Yeah?” Pink touched his cheeks at your confirmation, and his private smile was hidden as he turned his back to you, back to the food. “I’m glad. Go sit down, it’s almost ready.”

You did as told, propping your hand on your fist as you sat in your seat, watching him move around the kitchen, plating up your dinner. When it was ready, he sat across the table from you, eagerly waiting on his food as he waited for you to try it once again.

Reaching one hand out across the table, palm facing up, you offered your hand to him, in the space between you both. Hesitating for only a second, Azriel slid his rough and calloused fingers over your own, holding on gently when you curled your hand around his. He stared, rubbing his thumb slowly over your knuckles as he turned your hands atop the surface, and shook his head softly to himself.

“Eat up, Az. You’ve had a stressful day.”

He only laughed, a cheeky glint in his eye as he peered up at you through his lashes, shoulders softening further.

No matter how far they softened, tension easing out, it was never gone entirely. Not as you sat and ate dinner together, not as you shared the pastries you had for dessert, cutting each treat in half and sharing every thought. Lingering underneath it all, in the way his smile never fully extended, or his shimmer dimmed a little too fast, you could tell the weight of the day was still dragging him down.

He’d insisted on cleaning up, and so you’d stood side by side, him washing and you drying, the quiet eating at the space in between you both until it was too much. So, you’d filled the space by talking, and Azriel had listened to every senseless whim and joke you’d had to say, walking beside you to your bedroom door, before bidding you a quiet goodnight, and disappearing into his own.

Only one shadow had lingered, brushing across your cheek before trailing in tendrils with the others, which were wrapped tightly around his body. Like a protective shield, or a safety blanket. As you changed for bed, every movement felt heavy, the air was heavy with the lingering emotions of the day, and you could almost taste his guilt and self-loathing in the air.

You’d all but paced a hole in your floor as you wandered up and down thinking about it.

It didn’t feel right to leave him, but you weren’t sure of where those boundaries lay, what your limits were. If Azriel wanted company, he could’ve asked, but he didn’t exactly seem like the sort to reach out. He was the quiet, brood-in-solitude type. You had no idea what to do to help.

You were still considering it as you silently approached his bedroom door. There was a light still on, flickering dimly as the flame danced, just enough of a soft glow to perhaps be a single candle.

Before you could back out and turn around, a single shadow snaked under the threshold, curling around your ankle, swarming quietly and securely, like a message. Before you could second-guess again, your knuckles wrapped twice against the door, the shadow darting back underneath.

A gruff noise of acknowledgement from inside welcomed you, and you stepped into the room. Feet near-silent against the carpet, the shadows were back, a wisp of cool touch around your bare calves, brushing all the way up, and stopping respectfully at the hem of your nightgown.

Instead of venturing further, they shifted to your arms, following your every motion as you closed the door and began padding across the room toward him, feeling the twist and dance of them up your arms.

As you reached the edge of the bed, he lowered his book, a single jerk of his chin bringing his shadows darting back to him, smoothing into the creases of the bed and the shadows on the floor, all but disappearing sneakily once again. Sitting up further, he patted the space beside him, and you crawled up across the bed to kneel by his side.

He waited patiently as you settled, your heart racing in your chest as he welcomed your company. Your comfort. You hadn't thought it through this far, what to even say to him, but only one thing came to mind;

“I got a job today,”

His eyes widened almost comically, brows shooting up his forehead, and his jaw dropped. For a heartbeat, two, he was speechless. “You got a job?”

“The desserts we had? They came from The Star Crossed Bun Bakery, and you’re lookin’ at their new waitress!” He let out a cheer, arms reaching out to drag you over his legs and into a hug, your ass planted across his thighs as his arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you to his chest. Your head shook, giggling uncontrollably as he whooped. “Well, it’s no ‘spymaster of the Night Court’, but—”

“Do you like it?” He cuts you off cleanly, no longer smiling, a serious look on his face. “Do you think it’ll make you happy?”

“I do. I think it’s perfect.”

“Then who cares what it is? It’s the best job ever, if it’ll truly bring you joy.” The sincerity in his voice made you believe him, the honesty in his eyes only confirmed it, and you couldn't tear your sights away from his own because of it. Captive, you were locked in his gaze, the wide beam on your lips dimming to something more gentle, and his arms tightened around your waist some more as you looped one of your own around his neck for support.

“I’ll be able to pay you back for everything pretty soon.” Threading your fingers a little higher, into the hairs along the back of his head a rumbling sound beat through his chest at the scratch of your nails on his scalp.

“I told you, I don’t want you to pay me back. That money I gave you was a gift, and you used half of it to buy things for me anyway, so it barely even counts.”

“If I don’t pay you back,” You shuffled, sliding a little further down in his lap as he crooked his legs up behind you. “Then your brothers are right, I’m your sugar baby.”

His smile dimmed a little as you looked up at him, but it didn’t leave completely, and after a couple of moments of quiet, he shrugged. “Then you’re my sugar baby. I don’t care what they think.”

“I care!” Your hand slapped loosely at his arm, and he only rubbed a hand down your spine, his face impassive at your protest. Your eyes rolled fondly, cheek going to rest on his shoulder as he continued to rub your back slowly. Shuffling the blankets down around himself, he pulled them free from his lap and up and over yours instead, his hand going to rest over your covered thigh once he was done.

“Wanna stay and cuddle for a while, sugar?”

“Oh, gods…” The nickname is an awful play on current events, but it makes him smile once again, and so you stretch your legs out and slump a little further across him as he relaxes back into the pillows, taking you with him.

Smoothing your hands across the front of your dress, you gave a final nod to the mirror, unwilling to let yourself overthink it any further. The four other outfits discarded on your bed were proof enough of that. Swiping up a pair of simple black heels, a matching purse and a lipstick you’d yet to wear, you let the bedroom door click shut behind you as you left.

Downstairs, you were finally learning the ways to navigate this house, you found Azriel sitting in his favourite armchair, a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. A mug of cooling tea sat on the coffee table as his legs stretched out to reach his feet to the new rug, book in hand. Placing down the purse and the lipstick at the table by the front door, you slipped one heel on, then the other, as you walked towards him.

“When are we leaving? You’re not dressed yet.”

His head lifted, eyes focusing intently on your outfit as he took you in, a long and sweeping gaze from head to foot. A simple black sundress, nothing special about it, but as Azriel scanned right from the hem at your ankles to the liner behind your lashes, you felt special.

Holding out his hand, you took it, and he twirled you simply before him, a smile pulling on your lips as you moved in a circle before his seat.

“Leaving for what?” He eventually said, dropping your fingers after running his thumb across your knuckles. “Why are you dressed up?”

“Family dinner!” His eyes narrowed. “It’s tonight!” His smile fell, lips pursing in a scowl, and he shook his head.

“We’re not going to that.”

“But it’s your family!”

“Yeah, and they were assholes. Besides, you didn’t sign up to deal with their shit.” His focus moved back to his book, and you took it from his hands, ignoring the sound of protest he gave off, sliding the bookmark between the pages, and putting it out of his reach.

“I kinda’ did sign up for it. Wasn’t that one of the main points of our… agreement?” Leaning your thigh on the edge of his chair, he was forced to look up and meet your gaze. “To go to events with you, so you’re not alone.”

His frown only deepened. The sight of it made you want to rage, hating that expression on his face, and you sunk onto the chair, threading a hand into his hair like you’d done a day prior, playing lightly.

“Besides, I’m going to have to meet them all eventually, Az. If they’re all going to hate me, might as well get it done in one sitting, huh?”

He only groaned, leaning forward to brace his forehead against your thigh, grumbling at your chuckle as your hand followed, back to his hair. Running one scarred hand over the material adorning your calves, he huffed out a warm breath against your leg. “You look so beautiful in your new dress.”

“Thank you.” Your heart fluttered a little at the pure tone of his voice.

“Are you sure you want to go?”

“I didn’t get all dressed up for nothin’. C’mon, have a little faith in me. I can handle it.” Another pass of your fingers through his hair, and he twisted his head, to rest his cheek in its place. “I’ve been practising my mental wall-building skills, I have to test them out.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, lingering a second longer before heaving himself to his feet with a whine, stretching his arms over his head and his wings out to their full spread, the display of them mesmerising as you watched them move. “Just give me five minutes to get dressed.”

As he passed by, he dipped, leaving a swift kiss on your cheek and dashing from the room, his footsteps becoming silent the further he got. There was a bashful smile on your lips, fingers reaching up to softly trace the spot where you could feel his lips, still tingling, as heat flooded over your cheeks in a wave. By the time you’d finally come around to yourself, it was to straighten up the cushions, carry away his mug to the kitchen and put the bottle of wine you’d spent half a day choosing out yesterday onto the counter.

Using the mirror hung in the hallway, you were still applying your lipstick when Azriel, true to his word, arrived only minutes after departing, now dressed. He was attempting to smooth down his hair as he arrived by your side. Now donned in dress pants and a smart button-up shirt, all in black, he waved his hands over himself. “Now I match you.”

“Oh, please, you exclusively wear all black.”

His answering smirk made your eyes roll, focus returning to the mirror to finish your lipstick application. “Fine, you matched me then.”

You scoffed. He only leaned one shoulder against the wall, crossing his ankles as he waited, watching you. That blush came crawling back. “Stop staring at me while I pout at the mirror.”

“It’s adorable.”

“Make yourself useful and go get the wine from the kitchen.” You finished up, tucking the lipstick inside of your purse and swiping a cardigan from the coat hooks, wrapping it over your shoulders before he returned. His brows were raised when he did, holding up the corked bottle in his hands. “What? I bought it with the last of my savings. It’s the best I could afford, but it’s still pretty good, I think. There were tasters at the winery.”

“Oh, so is that why you were so smiley and giggly when you came home yesterday? You were tipsy?”

His free hand landed on your hip, and your eyes narrowed on him. “I was not tipsy!”

“Sure.” He teased, your eyes rolling some more. You reached up, distracting him effectively enough by smoothing down the last of his untamed hair, hands settling on his shoulders. Beneath the buttons of his chest, a soft blue pulsed from under the fabric, and your hands smoothed down slowly to rest on that place. It hummed with warmth, the siphon underneath all but buzzing with the power it contained.

A quick flicker told you the ones on his hands were there, nor were the ones on his knees, or his shoulders. “These are beautiful.”

He was quiet, too quiet, and when your eyes found his, he was staring with what you could only describe as awe.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” His lips parted, but no sound came out, struggling to find his words for a moment, and you waited patiently for him to open up. “They mean something. I scare people, and they’re part of that image. You’re not scared of them? Of me?”

“Not one thing about you scares me, Azriel.” His grin told you enough, that your answer had found someplace deep inside of him, where it was needed, and he bowed his head enough to rest his forehead with your own. “Why are you wearing one tonight? You don’t wear them to bed.”

“Because I didn’t trust myself.”

“To do what?” You mused, his head finally rising, but his hand still squeezed your waist, sliding around a little further to band around your body.

“Not to lose control if they’re unkind to you again.” It was your turn to be struck deep, and you knew by the bob in his throat that he caught the hitch in your breath. Silence fell between you both, a moment dragging on for eternity and yet somehow being over far too quickly, when he shook his head softly. You don’t know what he read on your face, whether it was the surprise or adoration, or none of it at all. When he spoke again, it was with a raspy voice, dragging like gravel; “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He hesitated, only for a second as he pulled back, shadows wrapping tightly around your bodies while he waited for your nod of confirmation. Then, they coiled, blocking out all of the light and clearing only when the ground had fallen from your feet and been found once again. Before you stood the sprawling estate owned by the High Lord and Lady. If you hadn't known you were coming here, it would have been an easy guess.

Casual grandeur, understated beauty but breathtaking nonetheless. Colourful flowers lined rows around the base of the house, the river rushing softly across rocks behind you, faelights casting a warm glow over the cobbled path leading up to the main house. Step after step, you walked beside Azriel, his hand a warm and grounding presence on your lower back, comfort in every swipe of his thumb over your spine as you made your way up to the house.

As soon as the front door was opened, shadows darted in ahead of you both, instinct pulling them from the darkness to scope out every corner of the room before returning, nothing to report of the safe and familiar environment. Laughter was spilling out, every step further into the luxurious home carried that warmth and carefree happiness.

The room finally came into view, a large wooden dining table, decorated with candles, wine glasses, flowers and baskets of bread, the members around the table spread out comfortably, and you checked off mentally who was here, based on what Azriel had told you. Lucien, Elain’s mate, was not in attendance tonight. Nor was Varian, Amren’s lover. Four empty seats sat around the table, which went silent, as all attention fell to your entry.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Azriel.”

“What?” He pasted on a cocky look, masking the feelings you knew were roiling underneath his expression, his fingers twitching against your back. “You said come to dinner, see how the rest of the family reacts, so here we are.”

“I meant you alone,” The High Lord growled, and you checked those walls you’d been practising with were still intact, not failing to miss the snarl Rhysand let out as a cool feeling brushed over those barriers. Testing. Confused looks painted some of the faces at the table, looking between you both in the doorway, and the host sitting at the head, who looked as though he might actually burst from his anger. “This is inappropriate.”

Azriel pointedly ignored him, a slight pressure on your back nudging you forward, guiding you to two of the empty seats, pulling out the one beside Morrigan for you to sit in. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you sank into the seat, the incriminating stares laid onto you by everyone present only grew heavier when Azriel left a kiss on the top of your head in acknowledgement.

Not one to be ignored, Rhysand let his words burst free, “You cannot just bring your sugar-baby to dinner with the family!”

“Oh, but you can bring Tamlin’s kidnapped bride?”

You felt your muscles lock up at that smoothly spoken insult, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees, and when you looked up, they were locked in a stare, glaring at one another viciously.

Then Amren laughed, and you let it shake you back into motion, sliding the wine bottle out of Azriel’s white-knuckled grip as he moved to take his seat beside you.

“Azriel.” The single word was growled, so low and threatening, and a burst of night-kissed power rippled along the table, shaking glasses and cutlery. “Feyre is my mate, it’s different.”

“Not really,” Azriel all but chirped, defiance on every word, and nausea rolled in your stomach that he’d act this way over you. He sat, and you reached out, placing a hand gently on his forearm, squeezing. He placed a hand over your own, but didn’t look your way. “She may be your mate, but at the time she was merely Tamlin’s bride whom you stole from her wedding, on her wedding day, on a fucking technicality!”

“I knew she was my mate, and she was begging for help!” He slammed a hand down on the table, the cutlery shaking and rattling again, and you squeezed Azriel’s arm. He squeezed back. “She wasn’t just some whore from the gods-damned pleasure house!”

At that, the room seemed to freeze over. Not even Amren laughed now, and you knew the weight of that one word. The word that Rhysand had been branded with, the slur that was muttered behind his back for so long after the events Under the Mountain, and your heart thudded painfully hard in your chest, nerves taking over.

Their staring lasted for a second longer, before Azriel’s chair screeched back across the tiles. He stood, holding his hand out to you.

“Stand up, sweetheart. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Your gaze moved from his gaze to his eyes, and he wiggled his fingers, expression softening every second he looked at you.

“Az, wait, please stay.” Morrigan offered from your side. “I haven’t seen you for months, please stay.”

You remembered Azriel telling you that Morrigan had been away, he wasn’t even sure she’d be here tonight, she’d been on another continent playing the charming courtier for a while, and showing her girlfriend the bigger world. His eyes shuttered with regret and disappointment as he glanced at her. “I’ll see you another time, Mor. You should come over sometime.”

His hand dropped to your shoulder as his focus returned to you, squeezing lightly. Beneath his shirt, blue glowed so bright it lit up the fibres of his shirt now, straining to control his feelings. “C’mon, sweets. Let’s go home.”

“Azriel, please stay.” This time, it was the High Lady who spoke, all gazes moving to her as she effortlessly commanded the room.

“Fey, I’m sorry.” Finally, regret leaked into Azriel’s voice, no longer that firm and cruel tone, but the one you were so familiar with was back. “You know I didn’t mean any insult by it. Coming here was a mistake, and we should go.”

Rhysand huffed at those words, agreeing with that sound, but his wife only shook her head. “You made a valid point, Azriel. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I was just Tamlin’s bride, and before that, I was just a poor girl who was hunting in the woods.” Her sights moved to you then, your heart freezing as you were acknowledged directly, “I would have done anything to get by, too.” She shrugged, offering a small smile that did more to comfort you than she might ever know. Then she cut a sharp look at her husband. “We do what we must to survive.”

“I’m fine, Az. We should stay.” He looked torn, whole body shuddering a little with restraint, but he eventually sank into his seat again, tucking himself under the table. Lifting the bottle you held up in the air, you hoped your hands were shaking enough to be visible. “We brought some wine.”

“We have wine,” Rhysand muttered, but snapped his fingers, and let two new wine glasses appear before you and Azriel, angry expression still on his face. A silent conversation of some kind seemed to take place between him and his wife, because, after a moment of sharp looks and flickering expressions, he sighed, shoulders slumping. He picked up a bottle of his own wine, however, making sure that the expensive label was facing in your direction as he poured it.

Opposite you, the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, chugged her glass, finishing the near-full one off in one burst, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before holding the now empty glass out to you. “I love that wine, used to drink it all the time. Rhysand won’t buy anything that isn’t at least half as old as he is, but expensive isn’t always better. Can I get some of that?”

Perking up a little bit, your over-eager nod would’ve been embarrassing, if Azriel’s hand didn’t shoot out faster than you could react yourself, taking the glass from her and bringing it closer to you both. Placing it down with your glasses, he took the bottle from you, uncorking it, and pouring three glasses, before passing her’s back. You didn’t miss the grateful smile on his face for her offered olive branch, or her curt nod in reply.

Dinner was soon served, by two wraith-like women by the names of Nuala and Cerridwen, who were silent as they moved through the room. Sat before you was a plate of some of the most decadent food you’d ever seen, a meal you’d rarely ever been able to afford to treat yourself to, and it was a simple weekend gathering for them.

Several different sets of cutlery were laid out before you, matching forks and spoons and knives of different sizes, all presumably for different purposes, and the cloying knot of shame and embarrassment gathered within you as everyone else seemed to know exactly which one to go for, and you had no idea.

A shadow swirled around one finger, before darting down to the cutlery, racing along a fork and nudging it just an inch to the side. Rhysand’s eyes were on you, you could feel the heavy stare as you picked it up cautiously, and the knife the shadow motioned you to as well, before offering a polite smile and digging into the food just like everyone else.

Azriel glanced down, brow raising in a barely-noticeable tick to check on you, and your dip of a nod was good enough to encourage him. The conversation seemed to flow on around the both of you, but rarely ever ventured enough to include you. Azriel would talk more often, occasionally a question was darted in your direction, but never anything that required more than a one or two-word answer.

The plates were cleared and you were a little relieved to have made it through, trying not to slouch in your seat, or do anything else that would only add to the bad reputation you’d already managed to be burdened with.

It was only the first course, a shock that came when a second, much larger plate of even more expensive and exquisite-looking food was placed before you. Shadow’s signalled you in again, and your half-drained wine glass was refilled, shared between you and Azriel with what was left of the bottle you’d brought.

The once sweet wine practically tasted sour in your mouth now as you plastered on a smile to get through the next stage of this evening. You weren’t here to have fun, though. You weren’t here to be liked, even if it would have been nice to make some friends. You were here to support Azriel, to give him the comfort and company he needed.

The more you looked around, the more you could see what he meant. The High Lord and Lady were not shy about their affections, practically curled into one another the entire time, touches frequent and sweet words murmured. Morrigan had been talking with Nesta for almost thirty minutes about her girlfriend, who must’ve been one of Nesta’s friends, and her mate was just as attentive. Cassian had eaten half of Nesta’s starter, what he hadn't gotten himself she’d fed to him with a smirk and kissed away any traces, even going so far as to lick the corner of his mouth when she thought nobody was looking.

Amren was silent and stealthy, reading her book and talking to nobody. You were sure if Varian had been present, or Lucien for Elain, it would have been even more unbearable. No wonder he was willing to extend such offers just for some relief.

Reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm, he jumped slightly, his cutlery clattering on his plate as his head whipped to you. Eyes a little wide as you trailed that hand down, he unfurled his fist a little, gaze never straying, as your hand closed atop his palm. With a squeeze, his lips flickered at the edges, a slow blink offered, before putting down his knife and turning his hand over to hold yours properly.

All eyes were on you, you were sure some looks dirty, but it didn’t matter. You were looking at him. At the smile he wore, the warmth creeping back in at the edges of his expression, the gratitude and the affection and the kindness. The Azriel you were so familiar with.

Somehow, just reaching for him, made the rest of dinner easier for you too.

It didn’t matter that nobody spoke to you for more than a minute or two, because you were far too distracted by the feeling of his hand in yours.

It didn’t matter that the dirty looks and double-edged questions never quite ceased, because when Azriel left a kiss on your temple and smoothed his hand over your hair after the plates had been cleared, your mind was practically empty for several moments.

It didn’t matter that you felt out of place, because with your head on his shoulder, and his cheek atop your crown, you’d never felt more at home.

Dessert was finally served, a decadent-looking chocolate cake and a round of coffees and teas, that made you grateful the meal was finally drawing to a close. It took all of your strength to pull away from Azriel, to sit properly once again to appreciate the cake before you.

“So, where were you living before…” Nesta waves her spoon idly around the room, before plunging it back into her dessert and taking another mouthful, “All this?”

“Before I met Azriel, or before I came to the Night Court?” You raised a brow, and she smirked around her spoon, shrugging. Azriel swiped his thumb across your knuckles, drawing your attention to him momentarily. He was staring at your collapsed hands, sitting before him on the table and watching his thumb moving slowly across your skin.

“Both.” Was all she gave, intrigue covering her tone.

You squeezed at Azriel’s hand, his attention snapping to you, and you raised your brows, a silent question if he was alright. He only nodded, letting that small smile touch his lips for a brief moment. “Well, before I moved to the Night Court, I was travelling, mostly. I wasn’t settled, I was trying to find where I wanted to set up some roots, and then I heard all about the Court of Dreams, and it sounded perfect for me, I always felt a little out of place at home.”

“So, when you arrived here, you just stumbled across our lovely shadowsinger?”

“We kinda’... stumbled across each other, I guess.” You squeeze Azriel’s hand again, his smile directed at the table this time as he squeezed back, before shuffling his chair an inch closer to your own. “We met in… well, I’m sure you’ve heard where we met, how we met, that whole tale, already. I was living in a shabby little apartment, and he did not like it very much.”

“Your place was atrocious, it should have been condemned.” He muttered, and your giggle at least made him smile, a one-shouldered shrug when Nesta rose her brows. “Seriously, Nesta, it made your apartment look like this place.”

He’d said a variation of that exact same thing to you already, the teasing scoff tumbling from your lips, pinching at his arm, and he jumped in shock, but did not take back the allegation. Instead, he only picked up your hand, eyes glittering a little as he kissed the back of it, diffusing any taunts you might have been building and melting them to utter mush.

“That bad, huh?” She chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair, utterly satisfied with the meal that had been provided. As you were, so full you could barely function anymore, on some of the best food you’d ever had.

“Whatever you’re picturing, double it.” Azriel groaned, sending a ripple of soft laughter between the three of you.

“So, what do you do now? I’m assuming not working at the place you met.” A loaded question, that was for sure, and you felt Azriel tense up beside you. The other chatter around the table seemed to quiet down, all attention falling to you now, and you cleared your throat before speaking up;

“I just got a new job, at a bakery-café in the market square.” In your periphery, you caught the sharp glance Azriel cut to one end of the table, a pointed glare to serve words he didn’t need to speak, before pulling his focus back. “It’s called Star-Crossed Bun, have you ever been?”

She let out a groan, eyes closing and head falling back as she patted her stomach. “I love Star-Crossed Bun, they make these little caramel cupcakes that are incredible. The girls and I go every week after training, on Fridays.”

“Perhaps I’ll see you in there, then!”

She only hummed, her gaze sweeping over you in a suddenly assessing way, and you wondered what had gone wrong. The conversation seemed to be flowing so well, it almost seemed like you’d made at least one friend at this dinner, and now her focus had turned from lazy and relaxed to sharp and calculating. “Have you ever held a sword before?”

“No. I think I’d drop one, or take off some of my own fingers if I even tried.”

Another hum. Another calculating stare. “You should come to training with us. I think Emerie and Gwyn would love to meet you.”

“Oh?” Your heart felt like it skipped over a beat, a grin coming back to her lips, her features softening again, and she shrugged. “Like… your sort of training?”

“You don’t have to be a warrior or anything, or come all the time. We could even just show you some simple self-defence. I think you’d like it, and you’d get to meet some new people in this court, and make some friends.”

“That sounds amazing, I’d love to!” Another squeeze from Azriel, before pulling your hand closer to his own, wrapping his second one around both of yours, and smiling to himself. “When is it?”

“Oh, well, Thursdays are cardio days, but Cassian and I are there every day. We train at the House of Wind, just show up whenever you can.”

A bolt of ice struck through you, tension filling your body once again, and that horrible sinking feeling of knowing something had been too good to be true froze over inside of you at the mention of the commander beside her. “I’ll let you know. I’m not too sure how I’d get there, I can’t rely on Az to winnow me everywhere.”

You tried your best to keep your tone light, to brush it off casually, and hopefully find a different way to bond with her. She’d mentioned the caramel cupcakes you could surely see her at the café, or bring some to the next dinner, perhaps— “Is it because I said cardio? Because if you come on Thursdays, I can make cardio fun, I swear!”

Your laugh felt empty now, and Azriel sat up a little straighter beside you, ready to speak. “It’s not the cardio, it’s Cassian. He terrifies her.”

The smile dropped from Nesta’s face, and she sat up straight too, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between you and Azriel, and her mate. “What?”

“No, no. That’s not it at all—”

“When you go full ‘Commander of Death’ on someone you’ve never met before, in their own home, while someone else picks through their brain like it’s a toy basket without even introducing themselves, it’s a little scary.”

“Azriel!” Your snap was harsh, a heaviness falling over an already silent table now, as both the culprits seemed to have moved their attention to their brother, the rest of the guests merely watching with curiosity.

“Sorry. I just…” Azriel heaved a sigh, slumping down in his seat until the tips of his wings were brushing the floor. “It wasn’t fair. You did nothing wrong, and it’s been bothering me since that day. You fucking hid behind me, in your own home! You looked more scared than the night we met, and you made me promise not to murder you.” A nostalgic smile brushed his face for half a second, an apology for his outburst already shining in his eyes when he looked at you fully. “You can’t expect me to just let that go.”

He was concerned, worrying beginning to stitch into his features, and even though he’d opened up about how you felt without your permission, you knew it wasn’t with bad intentions. He just wanted to protect you, and above all, that made you feel far more for him than irritation. “We’ll talk about it later.” You whispered, and he only nodded, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead that left you blushing.

“You don’t have to train with Cassian.” Nesta only gave a brutal look in Cassian’s direction, who at least looked a little sheepish at the accusation, but any time you looked at him, all you could see was the scowl, the look in his eyes as if he’d kill you, and like it. “I mean, he’ll be there, but I’ll make sure he’s nowhere near you. And I promise, he wouldn't hurt you, even if he looks like a brute. I hope you do choose to come, I’d really like to see you.”

“I think you should go.” Azriel’s whisper was just for you to hear, and when you turned, his face was close to yours, so close you were almost cross-eyed to look at him. “She’s right, Emerie and Gwyn would like you a lot.”

“I’ll winnow you up sometimes too, if you’d like. So you don’t feel like you’re always asking Az.” When your eyes, and everyone else’s, moved to Mor in shock, she only finished off the red wine in her glass and shrugged. “Oh, please. Some people are being so melodramatic about all of this. Besides, Emerie would give me shit if I got home and told her I hadn't offered, anyway.”

“So it’s settled. You’ll come to training this week, give it a go.” Nesta smirked, and you guessed she might be used to getting her way by now, if the sparkle in her eyes was anything to go by. “Just one little trial session.”

All eyes were on you, even Azriel, and you caved with a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there.”

Nesta beamed to herself, cheering lightly, and Cassian gave a gruff chuckle as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. Averting your gaze towards Azriel as he now stared longingly at your cake, it was your turn to laugh.

“Would you like the rest of it?”

“Only if you’re not going to eat it.” Even as he spoke, though, he was lifting his spoon again, “We can share it?”

“Sure.” You confirmed, and he took off a chunk of it, offering it to you first. You almost accepted, but the thought of letting him feed you felt far too intimate in a room full of people who hated you.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and then he nodded, settling further back in his seat and dragging the plate to sit between you both.

When that plate was finally clear, Azriel didn’t hesitate to finish off his wine, slouching back into his seat as far as his wings would let him, one stretched out behind half of your chair, too. His hand reached out, settling on your elbow and shaking you gently from the conversation you’d been listening to Elain and Morrigan have about the former’s gardening crop this summer.

“Are you ready to leave?” He offered, fingers flexing on your arm before sliding away.

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’m…” He glanced around, shrugging when Cassian’s focus lay solely on him, and clearing his throat to speak a little louder. “I’m tired, I’d like to go home.”

“Thank you for staying, Az.” His High Lady said, voice as delicate as ever, and her tone dipped far closer to professionalism than friendly as she moved to you. “Thank you both for coming.”

“Thank you for having us. The food was lovely, the company even more so.” You matched her tone, a smile and a glance around the table without truly meeting anybody’s gaze. Azriel stood, extending his hand to you, and taking your purse in his other. Standing with him, Azriel dipped halfway into a far more dramatic exit, waving a hand cordially.

“It’s been a pleasure. Shall we see you next week?”

The question hung like fog in the air, blinding and disabling, and Rhys’ jaw ticked as he considered it. “If it makes you happy, I suppose we will be.” He finally ground out, expression as tight and sharp as it was polite.

“If we don’t have plans, we’ll be here.” It was Azriel’s wicked way of lighting the tension, and even Rhys offered a chuckle, finally ending their stalemate, even as he rolled his eyes. He waved a hand at you both, and Azriel’s ran along your back, shadows clouding you in, your breath held until you were finally back in the familiar corridors of Azriel’s home.

The breath slipped free with a heavy sigh. Putting down your purse, you turned toward the coat rack, not making it very far before two hands were settling on your shoulders, stilling your movements. In the hallways mirror, you could see Azriel behind you, wings tucked in tight, shadows bustling like busy streets, chaos as he took half a step closer. He lowered, forehead resting on the back of your head, after leaving a kiss there.

“Are you mad at me?” Azriel asked, peeling your cardigan down your arms slowly, the warmth of his body leaking into you from behind, and you could only give a soft laugh. As he hung it up on the coat hooks, you turned to face him, still closer to his height as you balanced in your heels, arms looping easily around his neck.

“I’m not mad at you.” He sighed again at that, his hands coming to rest on your hips this time, pulling you a little closer, until you could practically feel the pulsing of the siphon beneath his shirt, mimicking a heartbeat. “I just don’t want you making enemies of your family over me. I can defend myself, and you don’t have to pick between them or me.”

He didn’t respond, only leaning in to give another sweet kiss, this one to the tip of your nose. Running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, thick muscles were taut and lined with lingering tension once again.

“Why don’t I make us some tea, and bring it upstairs for us? We can sit and read for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

Using him for balance to kick off your heels before letting him go, he padded away through the house as you made your way to the kitchen. Once the water was set to boil and you’d chosen a relaxing brew for the evening’s choice, you took your time to prepare for bed yourself.

A tray with two steaming mugs on and a jar of honey later, and you were carrying it slowly through the house towards the bedroom, shadows flickering along, crawling in the tight corners of the walls as you walked.

By the time you were nudging your way through Azriel’s half-cracked door, he was just settling in at the cushions of his bed, glancing up to watch you set the tray on the bedside table on the opposite side.

“You’re not in bed yet.”

Not a question but a statement, and he only shrugged, peeling back the covers on both sides of the bed, and crawling in himself, spreading his wings to sit comfortably. “I was just thinking about stuff, is all.”

“Are you okay?” He gave a hollow laugh, rolling his head slowly on his shoulders to look at you, accepting the mug you held out to him with a quiet thanks, sniffling the steam that came off and loosing a breath filled with worries.

“I should be asking you that after tonight. I never should have taken you there.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it was my choice to go. I had to convince you to take me, so you’re not allowed to carry the guilt of it all.” He notched a brow a little higher, blowing on the surface of his tea, and amusement flickered over his features. Just what you’d wanted.

“I’m not allowed?”

“No. If anyone is going to take the guilt, it's me. It's mine. You can’t have it.” You offered him the honey, only to receive a small shake of his head as he sipped the first taste, and you loaded a spoonful into your own. “Are you okay, though?”

“Are you?” He countered.

“I’m fine, Az.” He didn’t look like he believed you, only staring, like he’d be able to read right into your soul. Putting down your mug, and taking a bracing breath, you laid a knee on the mattress, then another, inching across the bed before swinging a leg across his own. His eyes went wider, watching as you settled yourself into his lap, sitting on his thighs. “Give me your hands.”

“My hands?” He offered them anyway, throat bobbing in a series of swallows as you took them, rubbing your fingers across his palms slowly.

“Azriel, look at me.” His brows dipped, and you set his hands onto your hips gently, his fingers flexing there. “Really look at me. See that I’m okay. I’m stronger than you think. I know you want to look after me, and it makes me so happy that you do. Nobody has ever wanted to look after me before. But that made me strong. I’ve always been looking out for myself, and I want you to know that. Trust me. I can handle more than you think.”

“I do trust you.” His voice cracked, and he sat up further, hauling you up his body until his chest was almost pressed to your own, his arms slipping around your back. “But there’s something. Something that makes me… I want— I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Azriel. I’m happy, and I’m okay. I’m great. If that changes, I’ll tell you.” Settling your hands on his cheeks, his eyes shuttered, leaning a little further into your touch.

“You will?”

“Do you want me to promise it?”

He chuckled, dragging his hand up your spine, to cup the back of your neck, where the promise-brand you’d once sworn to him for all of twenty minutes had once sat. “No, I don’t want any more of those on your skin. Not even to me. Don’t make a promise unless you have no other way. If they’re not worded right, you can be held captive by someone until they die, or you find a way to fulfil the impossible. Don’t do it.”

Leaning in, your forehead rested on his own, and he tipped his face up a little, eyes closing. “Do you want me to promise to make no promises?”

Bubbling, bursting laughter ruptured from him, his body jolting under your own as his face fell to your neck instead, bunching you into his body to hold on tight. A deep, throaty sound that was irresistible, your laughter joining in. “You’re a goddamn menace, sugar.”

“Gotta’ keep you on your toes somehow.”

#SLS #sweet like sugar #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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zosanbrainrot · 29 days

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part 05!!

01 02 03 04 05 06

It's been a while since I last worked on this comic, I've been busy

☘️🦋☀️ experiencing summer ☀️🦋☘️

which was and still is a lot of fun!

ANYHOW, I feel like when I stop drawing for a while it usually does me good, like, I'm very happy with my art quality in these panels and I didn't change much since the first draft (I still overthink some of the decisions but not as much as with the last part lmao).

It's like when in games you have a separate bar for running/stamina and it can only fill back up fully once you go slow and just walk for a while, but if you insist on running all the time it's never really at full capacity. Can't think of a better analogy, but lmk if you feel the same!

One of the things I maybe would have done differently is to have Yonji take the spear out of Zoro's shoulder, maybe?? It was so good when I first saw people draw a parallel between Zoro and Yonji because of their hair color and that maybe Sanji subconsciously has thought about this too ever since he and Zoro met. Not a meaningful thing for their relationship but more of an offhand thought that would surface from time to time. Him carrying the memories of his childhood all the time with him.

But! The upside of me not picking Yonji is that both Ichiji and Niji have the goggles so without their eyes visible they feel kinda distant emotionally and that works both bcs of who they are and also bcs the comic is not about them, in that panel where Niji has Sanji in a headlock the emotional focus is solely on Sanji.

And also Yonji just turned out so good there that I didn't wanna go back and change him lmao

I admit, when I was coming up with the plot of this comic in a frenzy right after watching these eps I kinda forgot about Nami slapping Sanji lmao I only recently remembered :' ) Don't wanna dwell on it too much though.

This part feels maybe more distant overall - I don't have any closeup shots (except the spear!) and the last moment you see Sanji's face fully is when he looks at Zoro. Zoro who got hurt. Again. Because of him.

I can't remember what I'd been thinking while boarding these, it'd been mostly vibes based, but I think the function of this part ended up being about showing a sequence of events rather than focusing on the emotions. It's pushing the plot forward and I think if I added closeups to the Vinsmokes then it'd be derailing a bit, again, it's not about them.

On the other hand it also works for Sanji shutting his emotions off, once his brothers and Judge enter the scene he has no leeway, he can't let his true feelings show. He's already shown too much. And what did it lead to? Everyone getting even more hurt. He let himself slip up during his fight with Zoro and Judge quickly put him back in his place. As long as the Strawhats were on the island they weren't truly safe. So he turns on his heel and walks back to the carriage, not looking back, he can only hope that Zoro's gonna pull through. He always does, he's been through worse, right? Right? They've never fought like this before though... The burn marks will take long to heal... And Luffy, has he woken up yet? No, no, no, he can't look back. And Nami...

So that's that! I got part 06 half finished already, so that should be out soon <333

as a bonus thing - some of the refs I've used for this part

3D models posed in Magicposer!

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veethewriter · 1 year

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Monty x reader! Requested by @ifyouwontlistenwhowill

Summary: reader starts working at pizza plex to earn money for college, works at montys gift shop, Monty slowly starts falling in love with the reader.

Day one: 11:31 A.M.

You stood outside the pizza plex nervous for your first day. I mean your job was easy, just selling stuff at the gift shop for Monty's Gators Golf, handing out any prizes if they had been won by people. People ugh that's the thing you were most worried about, was the large crowd. Taking a deep breath you walked in looking for the person that was supposed to show you around. Noticing someone waving for your attention, you quickly walked over, going through the crowd of people checking into the pizza plex.

The person in front of you quickly introduced themselves, quite cheerful for being at work. He grabbed your hand shaking it, "Hi! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Dave I'm the manager of the side of the building that the gift shop you will be working in is at!"

Smiling nervously shaking his hand back, introducing yourself also, "Hi it's nice to meet you too, I'm y/n."

Dave let go of your hand and smiled, "Well then let's get started with the tour then."

Day 1: 2:28

After having gone through the tour of the half of the building you would be on, you finally got to Monty's Gator Golf. He quickly showed you around the gift shop and how to work the cash register before looking back at you, "Okay one last thing before you can start, I need to introduce you to Monty since you are working in his attraction. You're gonna see each other often."

Before you could respond he gave you a serious look, probably the most serious one you've seen on him all day before saying "I will warn you though, Monty has anger issues. He usually doesn't show it until after hours but still be careful."

Now you were even more nervous than before, I mean you thought it would be easier to talk to the animatronics than other people but one with anger issues you had no idea what would happen. Dave started to walk away so you took that as a clue to follow after him. Finally finding Monty, who had just finished talking to a group of kids about the rules in Monty's Gator Golf. Dave had waited until the kids walked away before walking up with you to him.

He nervously smiled at Monty who had already started basically glaring at him, "Hey Monty I came to introduce you to the new person who will be running your gift shop."

Monty looked at you from over his sunglasses before making a scoffing-like sound and starting to walk away while talking, "I don't care what you do, just do your job."

Dave looked back at you and smiled, "Don't take it so rough, he's usually like that towards most people."

A little upset about how the first meeting went, you just nodded to Dave before he lets you go to open the gift shop.

Day 3: 8:03 A.M.

You sighed as you were opening the gift shop, your first day went okay, nothing really happened. You had your second day yesterday which also was uneventful besides Monty keeping a close eye on you. He didn't seem to want to interact with you though, just make sure you weren't up to anything bad. You were setting up all the stuffed animals using a ladder that had been in the back. Even with the ladder, it was hard to hook the small straps that kept the stuffed animals from falling.

Having to reach up higher, the ladder started to shake underneath you before giving up. With a quick scream and closing your eyes as you fell instead of feeling the ground, you felt metal. You opened your eyes and realized Monty was the one to catch you. He quickly sat you down and growled softly towards you "Be more careful about what you're doing."

Before you could respond Monty had started walking away and some other employees had swarmed around you to make sure you were okay. You thought maybe Monty was nicer than everyone said he was.

Day 11: 4:07 P.M.

You sighed looking at the time, noticing the shop was empty at the time you decided to go ahead and stock up on some small things that were out. Going over the shelves you noticed that the Monty pens were completely out and you knew from this morning you had stocked the last of them that were out in front this morning. Which means you would have to go in the back to grab a whole new box of them.

Now that you thought of it, your and Monty's relationship had gotten a little better, with small conversations here and there but it was mostly with you just talking. He would make small noises here and there to tell you he acknowledged what you said though. Shaking your head, you head to the back to look at the boxes. Only to your disappointment when you noticed the box you needed was at the very top.

You can't use the ladder, in fact you haven't seen that ladder since you almost fell off it that one time and since then all the plushies have been hooked up when you got to work. Climbing the shelf would only make it fall over on you. Standing on your tippy toes you could almost reach maybe a bit- suddenly you felt cold metal touch your back as a hand reached over you to grab the box you had been reaching for, feeling what felt like breathing on your neck for a second before it pulled back. You turned around seeing Monty as you tried to calm down the blushing on your cheek from how close he was a second ago.

As you were about to thank him, he handed the box over to you, "Next time ask for help, no need to get hurt over a box."

You nodded quickly and stuttered to him "Ri-ight thank you again for the help."

He just nodded and left heading back into his attraction. Wait what was he doing back here now that you thought of it, was he looking for you?

Day 26: 6:08 P.M.

The gift shop was closed for the next hour for you to restock items and clean up since they were too lazy to hire extra staff to do that while it was open. As you were cleaning you found a discarded club for Gator Golf. Picking it up you had decided to go ahead and return it but you didn't know where they went so of course your best choice was to give it to Monty himself.

Now you two were able to have full conversations with each other with him actually talking, well at least a sentence or two here and there. You two would talk about small things though mostly about instruments and hobbies. Making sure the gift shop was locked up while you were out you had started searching for him. Looking around you finally saw him watching over everyone near a wall, probably having just gotten back from one of the bands night performances.

Walking over to him you spoke up "Hey Monty, I saw this club at the gift shop and thought I would bring it back to you."

Having heard your voice Monty looks over at you and sees the club that you reached out to hand him but seeing that, he also saw the slightly torn-up bandage that was on your hand, "What's that?"

Noticing that he was looking at your hand, you looked down and remembered what happened this morning, "Oh um I hurt my hand moving around some boxes this morning, just scrapped it a little It's nothing bad."

Rolling his eyes he takes the golf club in one hand before grabbing your uninjured hand with his empty hand. Putting away the golf club nearby and continuing to walk you stop to ask "Um where are we going?"

Growing softly at you in a non-threatening way of course, "To a medic station your bandage is ripped and with you working plus sweating so much you're gonna get it infected if it's not wrapped the right way."

You smiled to yourself as the both of you continued to walk. You knew they were wrong, Monty was just a big softy after all....

Well um, you can tell Monty is my favorite... 😃🤭 Anyways I didn't know what to do with the room thing so I didn't add it but I still hope you like it!

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hotchfiles · 8 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ lay down with me ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: they find out maybe bars aren't all the same. content warnings: alcohol, suggestive talk. not proof read. word count: 2.1k

"Were you... Brushing your teeth?" Yeah he was. And yeah they were still on the jet, but as soon as they got back to HQ he would be on his car for the 45min ride to Arlington to see you. He couldn't risk bad breath on your first date.

Before Aaron could even answer Emily's inconvenient question, Derek came in with another one "Hair freshly cut too, anyone noticed it?" Well he cut his own hair, it would be simply rude not to look his best when he so easily could.

He knew JJ was coming in with something too when she passed by him, so he had to cut it out before "Hey, enough. I’m meeting an old friend after work, just trying to use my time wisely here." His eyes scanned the room for the reactions and even though no one replied, he could see all the little smirking around and whispering between Emily and Derek mostly.

So much for a private life.

He's not the hiding type, if he's in a relationship he has no problem letting people know it, as long as that is it, he enjoys keeping the details to himself. And right now that's all he can really say about you, you're an old friend, just an old friend.

For now.

He was running late now, and very stressed about it. Of course it wasn't the greatest of ideas to go from Quantico to Arlington by driving instead of taking the train, but he wanted to have the choice to take you somewhere else if you wanted to and to get you home safe when the date ended. He was also aware that trains didn't run as late as he might be staying.

He planned the haircut, the hotel shower right before leaving, brushing his teeth while in the jet, having his car ready, but God, did he not plan for the traffic he would have to deal with after 6PM.

But he's a gentleman, so he calls from the car system to warn you about it and he's nervous and anxious because not being present enough and being late or not there at all ruined his marriage and he wants to do better, he really really wants to.

"Oh don't worry babe, I’m still enjoying my wine in my living room. Thought it would be better to wait 'til you were in town to leave, yeah?" Aaron hopes the loud sigh of relief he let out isn't so obvious to you, but it is. You find it endearing. You were reading essays still just minutes ago, you understood him.

You weren't very sure how well would you two work considering that. But you sure as hell wasn't going to give up without at least trying it. And definitely not without a fight.

"Send me your location then, I'll pick you up in... Twenty."

"Uuuh, picking me up? Look at us, it's a real date date now, curfew's at 10PM then, don't forget it." You make him laugh easily with that, your father was a strict man, sometimes you both went to the movies or the park nearby and if you got home at 10:03 was enough for him to sit Aaron down in your living room and tell him all about responsibilities and how he was the boy and so he was supposed to protect you and ensure you were home in time.

"I am curious about what the consequences of not following the curfew will be this time though." Oh he's teasing you now, as if this wasn't your first date and the implications of consequences weren't so... Suggestive, to say the least. But he feels comfortable enough for that.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see then, agent Hotchner." Your voice drips like honey and he's pretty sure he just figured out some sort of deep ingrained fetish he didn't know he had until now. "See you soon, airhead!" You laugh innocently before finishing the call and it drives him mad in the most delicious way.

He thinks those are the most torturous 27 minutes he's ever had to go through his life, but the feeling is completely overrun with almost childish glee as he parks in front of your house. He could fit the choice for a house instead of an apartment easily on your own profile but he didn't need too, you liked your space. Apartments have no space. No privacy. He remembers vividly of a conversation you both had after your cousins were forced into an apartment because of your aunt's divorce.

He dries his palms on his pants quickly not sure if he should go to your door, stay where he is or what. He hasn't done this, the whole date ordeal in a while and it just got to him that he has no idea how people do it these days. What's too much or too little?

Aaron finally decides on leaving the car and waiting near by, after sending you a quick text to inform you he was there. It was a middle ground of sorts, he felt confident in it. Kinda.

It doesn't take you long to leave and lock your door and the sight of you immediately takes his breath away, your smile takes him back some years but your thighs remind him quickly that you are both definitely not fifteen anymore. He shakes his head softly, directing his eyes to a more suitable place for a first date: Your hands. You were holding a flower bouquet.

Flowers.

"Fuck." He mutters to himself in frustration, "I forgot to bring you flowers." You don't seem bothered about it, in fact it makes you smile more as you hand him the bouquet in your hands. "You got these... For me?" Aaron grabs the gift softly with both hands, afraid he's going to break it somehow.

"Yeah, wanted to test my theory that you're still a sap." The way his eyes were shining and his lips turned into the sweetest of smiles were enough proof to you. Aaron was always loving, caring, soft. It was interesting seeing him on the news nowdays, stoic, serious, unbothered. You wanted to see how easy it was to break him.

Turns out very easy. At least to you.

"A sap! I’m surprised I got flowers from a beautiful woman, sue me." He opens the passenger door so you can get in, which you quickly do with a cheeky smile on your face, the gift is carefully placed on the backseat before he's back to your side, seat belt on. Nosy as you are, you're already typing some address on the GPS.

"I heard people talking really good things about this place." You muse while he turns the car on, already following the instructions. "Apparently the beer is great and it stays open til late." He doesn't ask for any clarifications, if that's where you want to go, that's where he'll take you.

The food you've both ordered hasn't arrived at your table yet but Aaron has already gulped down two large beers and is trying so very hard to not show how annoyed he is, it makes you laugh, hard. He follows, laughing along and shaking his head.

"Who told you about this place?" He asks accusingly, you take a sip of your own drink and pretend you didn't hear it. "Who?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Your students then. You trusted a bunch of twenty somethings with our date. Pitiful." You don't reply, instead you just keep laughing to yourself while you drink. The place is loud. Loud music. Loud college students. Loud busy street. You tell him that's exactly the type of place you would hang out with your girl friends to hook up back in London, his experience isn't the same, the lover boy committed since high school.

"How do they even get to know each other over this nooooise?" Laughing at his annoyance only lasts so long and now you're the one not being able to sort through your thoughts, the food is good though, you both agree while munching on the appetizers that accompany the beer.

In retrospect you should've imagined it would be this time of place by the countless mentions of beer whenever a student recommended it.

"Look around, I don't think they're actually trying to." You follow his gaze and notice that as the hours passed, the more couples formed and the less they were actually talking. Exactly as it was in your own college days. "I'm a bit tipsy so I'll let my curiosity win, you never told me why you divorced the second time." It was out of the blue, you told him the first one wasn't that bad, conflicting views on family and you both married too early in the relationship. The second one was... Harsher.

"Bastard cheated on me." You shrugged, but it was obvious it still got to you, Aaron could see it in your eyes, in your voice tone, and that had nothing to do with being a behavior analyst, and everything to do about how he just... Knew you. "His whore also pressed charges against me when I wasn't even trying to hit her, she just got in the way." He chocked on his beer and almost had to spit it out after that tiny little piece of information you hadn't mentioned before.

"You have a record?"

"He made her drop the charges when I left the apartment to him without a fight. That's why I moved back to the states." He blinks once, twice. Maybe he should be worried, but he also knew that could get a bit aggressive when losing control. Just it always happened to terrible people. "I'm obviously joking, airhead." The relief he feels is followed by an annoyed face for believing such a lie, you touch his forehead softy, smoothing the lines so he doesn't look mad anymore. He takes it as a sign, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, then your hand, and pulls you to him, letting go to touch your chin.

If he wasn't drinking the proximity would inebriate him alone, the way your eyes closed and your cheeks blushed in anticipation, he's sweet, lips touching yours with tender patience, much more patient than you, you who lifted your body just a bit from the chair and pulled him by his collar to deepen the kiss, almost causing a disaster if any of you fell over the table with all the glass cups.

You let him go just after hearing some snickering from the table behind yours, not blaming them for it, it probably looked like an awkward kiss from the outside. But it wasn't.

"That was certainly better than our first one..." You smile sheepishly at him, putting your hands on your lap, nervous.

"You blushed and gripped my shirt." He says looking deep into your eyes, making you tilt your head slightly, showing him your confusion. "It's been thirty years, you did the same thing... You blushed and gripped my shirt."

"So you're telling me you make me feel like a school girl."

"I'm telling you you've just acted like one." You take the comment as a challenge, getting up and taking your chair with you to sit closer to him, brushing your lips to his before going to his ear.

"You're drunk and staying over, so why don't we get a taxi and I'll show you the school girl." You can see the way his neck shivers at your little teasing, but he takes advantage of the new found closeness to kiss you again, with much more hunger but also much faster than the first because he's ready to pay the tab and get out of there.

It wasn't really that hard to find a taxi, being a night time neighborhood, they knew to stay around. Aaron had your bag on one of his hands and the other on your thigh. Your arms went around his and your head laid on his shoulder. None of you talked the whole way there, just feeling each other's presence and the alcohol twirling around your minds and your stomachs.

And you did show him you were not a school girl anymore when you both got to your house: You got him your largest t-shirt and pajama pants, your coziest blanket and after you both changed and took aspirins to try and prevent the headache that would inevitably come, you got your pillows and went to the living room and laid on your big couch with Aaron, cuddling with him as some TV show re-run lured you both to sleep.

It was almost 2AM, and while you could take him to your bedroom and take his clothes off like you wanted to, you both knew it was the middle of the week, he had to wake up early to get his car, you would probably pass out under him anyway.

Cuddling was more than enough for a first date. And at least for Aaron, he was sure he wouldn't let go of your embrace anytime soon.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader

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runariya · 1 month

Text

My Beloved Villain (JJK) • Chapter 2

pairing: hero!Jungkook x villain!female reader genre: dark romance, gore, villain!AU, hero!AU, slow burn fic rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, detailed description of external autopsy and working with cadav��rs, mentions of underground fight club and mafia, mention of rap€, trauma, blood, detailed description of physical violence such as punch!ng, k!lling someone, mentions of wounds, detachment, a little bit of fluff, lies, please lmk if I forgot something word count: ~ 6.4K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to med school are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

prologue • 01 • masterlist • 03

The autopsy lab falls silent as everyone takes in the sight of the bodies, but your thoughts are circling around like a roundabout, gaining in speed with every turn while your gaze drifts back to Jungkook. His earlier joy has mellowed into a focused determination, the same look you’ve seen in him so many times before, but now, knowing you’ll be working side by side with him for the foreseeable future, it feels different—more intense, more charged, more dangerous.

You drag your eyes away, forcing yourself to focus, but even as Mr. Choi starts giving more detailed instructions about the cadavers, your mind keeps circling back to the same thought: how are you going to survive the next few months without losing your grip on the carefully maintained but broken facade you’ve still got somewhere in you?

The answer, as always, remains elusive, slipping through your fingers like water, leaving you with nothing but the cold certainty that this will be harder than any other project you’ve faced before. And yet, a small, treacherous part of you can’t help but look forward to it, to the chance to be near Jungkook, to see if whatever this is between you will grow or wither under the weight of the secret you carry.

As Mr. Choi's instructions continue to wash over you, you can't help but steal another side-glance at Jungkook. He's focused, his eyes still warm but clearer as he listens intently. The sight sends a pang through you—admiration, yes, but also a deep, gnawing worry. He’s everything you used to be and somehow to the outside world still are: open, kind, brilliant in a way that shines like the sun after a long night. What would he think if he knew the truth? If he knew about the nights you spent in darkness, longing to be bathed in the blood of the guilty, driven by a vengeance that had long since consumed you, rushing like heroine through your veins?

You take a deep breath, trying again to steady yourself. There’s no room for weakness now, not when you’re about to step into a new role for him—partner, confidant, equal. You can’t let your feelings for him, whatever they might be, get in the way. You have to be stronger than that, for both your sakes.

Mr. Choi finishes his speech with a final, ominous reminder about the importance of accuracy and thoroughness in your reports, his gaze lingering on each of you as if to drive the point home. Then, with a curt nod, he gives a go for the class, leaving you all to your thoughts and the quiet hum of the cooling units.

As the group begins to disperse for the assignment, gathering their materials and exchanging murmurs about it, you find yourself rooted to the spot, your mind still whirling with everything that’s just transpired in less then thirty minutes. It’s only when Jungkook’s warm hand touches your back, giving you a gentle push, that you’re pulled back to the present.

“Come on,” he smiles, his voice light, though you can sense the excitement in his tone. “Let’s get it, yeah?”

You nod still a little absentmindedly, allowing him to lead you to your designated body. Lost in your thoughts, you barely registered that Yoongi and Hope have already begun their examination, their movements synchronised like the ticking of a clock. A few feet away, Jennie and Taehyung are absorbed in their own conversation, voices hushed but animated as they discuss the immaculate condition of their cadaver’s skin, debating whether it had once belonged to a model or beauty influencer. Ben and Juan however stand frozen before their own table right beside yours, staring at their lifeless cadaver with wide, frightened eyes, unsure where to begin.

Taking a deep breath, the sterile, cleansing scent filling your lungs as you take your designated place beside the cold, metal dissection table, your eyes trained on the white cloth draped over your cadaver, hiding it still from view. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, a silent question hanging in the air between you as he now stands tall on the other side of the dissection table.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hesitant as he slips his hands into the sterile gloves, the latex snapping softly against his skin, while you follow suit, your fingers sliding into the cold material as well.

You meet his eyes, offering a small, almost mechanical smile as you nod. “Ready.”

With a careful, almost reverent motion, Jungkook reaches out and lifts the cloth, revealing the body beneath. His movements are gentle, as if the man lying there might still feel something, as if he might stir awake at the slightest disturbance. You watch him with a detached curiosity, wondering why he bothers with such care. The man on the table is dead, a lifeless shell. Whatever humanity he once had is long gone. Would you have handled death as gentle as Jungkook does if you weren’t who you’ve become? You don’t dwell much on it, seeing no point in feeding into an alternative reality long forgotten.

The face of the man is revealed, his features slack in death, and something unfeeling and calculating clicks into place within you. There’s something familiar about him, something that triggers a buried memory. You shut down, pushing away the remnants of the smile you’d forced moments ago, your expression hardening as you’re consumed by the darkness that lurks within you.

It’s that darkness that seethes repeatedly in your mind that the man lying before you resembles the first man you ever killed. And it’s that same darkness that forces you with an iron grip around your throat to look back. You try to resist, suffocating the flicker, but it only burns brighter until you’re engulfed in the burning flames of your past.

The room was barely lit with a single desk lamp, the air suffocating your young airways with the acrid scent of cigarette smoke, walls stained with dampness, dark streaks creeping down like veins in a dying leaf. The sound of muffled cheers and shouts echoed through the small, grimy office, a space tucked away in the bowels of Seokjin’s underground fighting club.

Seokjin stood by the window, shoulders broad and imposing even if he wasn’t doing much but looking outside and smoking silently. His dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms that hinted at his strength, occasionally flexing with every drag of his cigar. His black hair was sleeked back as usual, and his face—sharp, chiseled, almost inhumanly perfect—void of any emotions, trained to be a mask of cool animosity. He had a presence that commanded everyone's attention, fear, power, a dangerous allure that drew you in and held you captive years ago.

“He raped her,” Seokjin grumbled through the smoke slowly escaping his lips, his voice low, honeyed, yet laced with something so much more darker. His eyes, like shards of obsidian, glinted with malice as he glanced from the moonlight at you.

You shifted uneasily in your seat, the worn leather creaking beneath you, you were acutely aware of the dampness in the air, of the smoke curling from the ashtray on the desk, of Seokjin’s piercing gaze that seemed to strip you bare like it always did.

He continued then, his voice becoming more and more compelling, “So, for your plan to be fruitful, it’s time to learn how to capture a man much stronger and taller than you.”

“Right,” you responded, though your voice wavered with uncertainty. You knew he was right, but the prospect of what you have to do made your stomach churn and your heart scream.

Seokjin’s lips curled into a menacing smile, one that you’d grown familiar with during the time spent together. It was the kind of smile that promised pain and pleasure in equal measure, a smile that told you he saw you as something to be moulded, shaped, and honed into a weapon of his design. A trophy to be displayed, a beautiful raw diamond ready to be cut and polished into something lethal.

“Don’t worry, angel,” he murmured, his tone deceptively gentle as he stepped behind you, massaging your tensed shoulders with his cigar resting between his full, rosy lips. “My men and I will be nearby. If something goes wrong, I’ll be right behind you.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but the smile he sent your way twisted them into something else entirely. You nodded, swallowing your doubts and fear as you steeled yourself for what has to be done. You had no choice; you were too deep in and too close in being ready for your revenge.

Later that night, you found yourself standing in the shadows outside a small, nondescript grocery store while its neon sign flickered weakly in the foggy cool air. You watched your target—a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a gait that spoke of confidence, of someone who didn’t fear the dark nor what’s hiding in it. He paid for his groceries with a bored expression, and headed down a narrow, barely lit alley, all while oblivious of the predator lurking in the darkness, of the eyes that followed his every move.

You slipped into the shadows, your steps silent, your presence undetectable. You were like a wraith, moving fluidly through the night, your breath shallow, your heart racing, charged, pounding like a drum calling for war. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

The man turned down another alley, this one narrower, darker, foggier, the perfect place for an ambush. You quickened your pace, your fingers tightening around the rough rope coiled in your hand.

When you were close enough, you struck.

Without warning, you lunged forward, the rope slicing through the air as you aimed to wrap it around his neck in a swift, decisive swing. But he was quicker than you’d anticipated, his instincts catching you off guard. He spun around just in time, his hand shooting out like a snake, his fingers clamping around your wrist in a punishing grip that restricted your arm, the muscles pulsating, signalling pain where you didn’t feel any. The force of his grip made you stumble, your balance faltering as you struggled to regain control.

Your mind raced, calculating your next move even as your body fought to keep up. The rope slipped from your grasp, useless now as you twisted your body, your free hand striking out towards his throat. The hit connected, and he grunted, his grip loosening just enough for you to wrench your wrist free. Your joint locked from the point of contact, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the man before you.

You circled him like a cat to its mouse, your eyes narrowed, every muscle in your body coiled tight with anticipation. He was bigger, stronger, his broad frame still towering over you despite his slouched form. You knew you had to be smarter, faster—use his size against him. With a growl, he lunged at you, his massive arms swinging in a wide arc meant to take you down in one blow, but you were quicker this time, slipping under his arm without a second thought.

Turning, you landed a swift kick to the side of his knee, your foot connecting with a satisfying crunch. He staggered, his leg buckling slightly, but he didn’t go down, his resilience unnerving, his strength seemingly undiminished by the hit. He growled, a low, guttural sound, and you saw the flash of anger in his eyes. He was done playing games.

But so were you.

Before you could fully react, he charged, his body flashing before your eyes as he slammed into you with the force of a freight train. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, sending you crashing into the brick wall behind, the rough surface scraping against the skin on your back, but you barely registered the blood seeping through your shirt. You ducked just in time to avoid his fist, which smashed into the wall where your head had been a split second earlier, leaving dust raining down the brick wall.

Blood roared in your ears as you ducked and weaved, dodging his powerful blows by inches. He was relentless, each punch fuelled by aggression, each missed hit only making him more furious and faster. His fist finally connected with your ribs, a sickening crunch echoing through the alley as air rushed again out of your lungs. You gasped, your vision blurring momentarily, but you couldn’t afford to stop, not when you had the advantage of not feeling the damage he has done to you. Another punch grazed your jaw, the force sending you spinning to the ground like a puppet.

Your lip split open then, the taste of copper pooling in your mouth as you hit the cold pavement. He hovered over you, his shadow silhouetting against the faint light. Desperation crashed through you, adrenaline drowning out any other thought as you rolled to the side just as his boot came down where your head had been. You scrambled to your feet, ignoring your locked muscles and the numb throbbing in your side, the blood dripping from your mouth.

You feigned a retreat, backing away to lure him in. He took the bait, rushing at you with all the ferocity of a wild animal, too dumb to think clearly but only on instincts. But you were ready. As he closed the distance, you sidestepped at the last moment, using his momentum against him. Grabbing the rope again, this time with both hands, you swung it over his head, catching him around the neck as he stumbled past you.

His hands flew to the rope, trying to pull it away, but you were already behind him, tightening the noose with every ounce of strength you had left. He thrashed, his body convulsing as he tried to shake you off, but you held on, your grip like an vice, your mind focused solely on bringing him down and capturing him.

He swung his arm back, his elbow connecting with your side, right where he’d punched you earlier, but it didn’t faze you the slightest. You twisted the rope tighter, using his own weight to pull him off balance. His breaths came in ragged, desperate gasps, the sound like a wild animal caught in a trap with nowhere to escape.

He managed to land another hit by pure luck, his fist slamming into your shoulder, but his movements were growing weaker, more desperate. You felt the rope digging into your palms, the coarse fibres cutting into your skin. Ignoring the blood tickling down from your hands to your elbows, you twisted only harder, faster. His struggles slowed, his movements becoming jerky, uncoordinated.

“KILL HIM!” Seokjin’s voice boomed from the shadows, echoing around you from wall to wall.

“I CAN’T!” You screamed back, the severity of the situation and the order settling into every pore.

“I said, KILL HIM! You won’t be able to kill anyone else if you haven’t done it before!”

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the blood trickling from your lip. You knew Seokjin was right—he was always right—but the truth of it twisted something deep inside you, making you want to cry, to run, to abandon it all and disappear forever and never look back. But you couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. The muscles in your arms protested from the effort, your joints locking even further in protest, but you didn’t stop. The man’s resistance finally began to fade, his hands falling limp at his sides. With one last, desperate gasp, his body went slack, collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.

You stood over him, panting, spent, your breath coming in ragged bursts mixing with the fog engulfing the whole scene. Bending down, you grabbed him by his head with both of your small bloodied hands, and with one forceful move, turned it sideways until his neck broke. Your vision swam as the adrenaline began to wear off, the numb pressure in your ribs and shoulder intensifying with a vengeance, making moving hard. You were battered, bruised, bloodied, but you’d done it. The man lay dead at your feet, the rope still wound tightly around his broken neck.

The night was silent once more, the sounds of your struggle already fading into the darkness. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing and keep the tears at bay as you wiped the blood from your split lip. The victory felt hollow, the darkness that followed after a kill creeping into your mind, suffocating your weeping heart and soul.

Then, from the shadows, Seokjin finally emerged, his face lit by the pure joy he felt seeing you kill for him. He surveyed the scene with a sparkling gaze, as if he was gifted the most precious present in the world.

“Well done, angel,” he nearly cheered, his voice dripping with wicked pride.

You nodded, but there was no triumph in your heart, only the echo of violence and the chill of the night. The darkness within you had grown, fed by the blood spilled, the life taken. As you stood there, the rope and body to your feet, you couldn’t help but wonder how much more of your soul you’d have to sacrifice before it was all over.

The memory fades, leaving you indifferent and withdrawn as you stare down at the body on the autopsy table. The resemblance to the man you’d killed all those years ago is uncanny, but you push the thought aside, knowing better than to let it distract you.

Jungkook, unaware of the dark thoughts swirling in your mind, begins reading the personal information from the file in his hand. “Beomseok is a forty-year-old male, found deceased in his apartment. No signs of forced entry, cause of death undetermined. He had three children, two daughters and a son. All go to college. His wife is thirty-seven years old, her name is…”

“Jungkook?” you interrupt, your voice cold, devoid of any warmth.

He looks up at you, his eyes wide with curiosity, maybe even a touch of concern. “Hm?”

“I don’t care,” you say flatly, cutting him off. The look on his face tells you that your tone has caught him off guard. He’s never seen you this detached before, this devoid of the kindness you usually radiate.

He hesitates, searching your face for an explanation, but finds none. “Okay, yeah, right,” he finally says, his voice tinged with confusion, not knowing what to do or say. He quickly sets aside the clipboard, his demeanour shifting as he realises you’re not in the mood for personal talk.

You step closer to the body, your gaze clinical as you begin the external examination. “Let’s just begin.”

Jungkook nods, following your lead as you start with a careful inspection of the outer appearance.

You begin with the hands, lifting them to examine the nails, the skin, the joints. “No signs of defensive wounds,” you note, your voice steady as you turn the hand over, checking the palms. “No calluses either. He didn’t do much manual labor.”

“Right,” Jungkook agrees, leaning in to inspect the hands himself. “His skin is smooth, well-maintained. Maybe he had an office job, something that didn’t require much physical work.”

You move on to the arms, examining the veins, the muscle tone. “The veins are collapsed, consistent with post-mortem changes. No track marks, no signs of intravenous drug use.”

Jungkook nods, jotting down notes as you speak. “Skin turgor is decreased, typical of someone who’s been dead for at least twenty-four hours. No petechiae on the conjunctiva, so it’s unlikely he was strangled.”

You shift your attention to the torso, running your fingers along the chest, feeling for any abnormalities beneath the surface. “No broken ribs, no bruising. The sternum is intact.”

Jungkook mirrors your actions, his touch gentle as he presses down on the abdomen. “No distension. Rigor mortis is fully locked in the limbs, but I think it’s starting to resolve soon. Livor mortis is fixed, so he’s been dead for several hours.”

“Skin shows no significant lesions,” you add, your voice detached as you lift the man’s head to check the scalp. “No signs of blunt force trauma to the head…nor neck.”

Jungkook watches you carefully, his brow furrowed. He can tell something is off, that you’re more distant than usual, but he doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he continues with the examination, his voice softer now. “The pupils are fixed and dilated, no signs of hemorrhage in the sclera.”

You nod, acknowledging his words as you move to the legs, checking for any signs of injury or abnormality. “No edema, no signs of deep vein thrombosis. He was healthy, at least externally.”

“Initial external examination of the front shows no obvious signs of trauma,” Jungkook summarises for you to write down. “No petechial haemorrhages, no contusions, no lacerations… he looks peaceful, doesn’t he?”

You don’t answer, your attention focused on your notes, but still noticing Jungkook watching you closely, his gaze following the movement of your pen.

“He does,” you finally reply. “But looks can be deceiving.”

Jungkook glances at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he tries to lighten the atmosphere. “Always the pragmatist, aren’t you?”

You give him a brief nod, not meeting his eyes. Instead, you focus on jotting down the notes and handing him the clipboard.

"Let's continue with its back."

"His," Jungkook interjects, his gaze surprised, stunned even, tinged with a light sheen of anger. You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t comprehend this detachment of yours, and perhaps he never will. So you pull back, meeting him not just halfway, but where he stands, knowing it’s a small concession you’re willing to make. And at the and of the day, it truly doesn’t matter to you.

"His back," you correct, watching as his expression shifts again, returning to his default warmth and care.

Jungkook gently shifts the body on the table, his movements careful, almost reverent, as if not wanting to disturb whatever peace the dead might still hold. "Let’s see your back," he whispered softly, his voice low with a subtle mix of respect and anticipation. You look on, switching your eyes from Jungkook to the body. It’s remarkable how respectfully he handles the dead, his personality still deeply ingrained and showing despite this environment.

It triggers something deep within you, your kind self clawing and pounding against the locked doors of your mind, desperate to break free, to surface and take control again. But you push it back with a force that betrays your fear, making certain the locks are secure, fastened tightly so that part of you never escapes when it’s not needed.

The body rolls onto its front with a muted thud, and you both fall into a practiced rhythm, your mind secured into that distant space where emotions need to be locked away.

"The scapulae are intact, no signs of trauma," Jungkook murmurs, his fingers gently tracing the bony ridges beneath the skin. The taut flesh stretches over the spine, the vertebrae visible like a faint chain beneath the surface of dead skin.

"Livor mortis is pronounced along the lower back," he continues, pointing out the purplish mottling that has settled, staining the skin in uneven patches. "Consistent with the body lying supine after death."

You nod, leaning in to inspect it more closely, your fingers gliding over the skin beside Jungkook’s, checking for anything out of place. "No signs of movement post-mortem," you add, your voice clinical.

You pause, catching a slight tremor in Jungkook’s voice, the faintest hint of something personal creeping through his professional exterior, but the flash in his eyes disappears as fast as his tremor. "I don’t see any indications of a struggle, no bruising or abrasions."

He nods, his eyes scanning the back with a careful intensity. "No obvious signs of external trauma," he echoes, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Time of death estimate aligns with the rigidity and the lividity. Likely around eight to ten hours ago."

Your fingers continue their examination, pausing at a small blemish—a freckle, now just another detail in the report. "The muscles are indeed stiff, rigor mortis fully set in as you said,“ you observe, your tone matter-of-fact, as if discussing a routine case of a textbook, though your mind is miles away. "This aligns with your estimate. The body’s been undisturbed."

Jungkook glances at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he asks, "Do you ever wonder about who they were? What their life was like?"

You meet his gaze, the question hanging in the air like an unwanted intruder. A part of you wants to answer, to slip into the role of the person he knows, but the darker side of you has already taken over and doesn’t back down. "No," you state, your voice cold, dismissive. "It doesn’t matter now. We’re here to determine how they died, not who they were."

He blinks, surprised by the sharpness in your tone, but nods, accepting your words. "Right," he agrees, though there’s a hesitation there, a moment where you see the empathy in him, something you can’t afford.

Each question from Jungkook reverberates through the hollow chambers of your mind, calling again and again for the part of you that you’re trying so desperately to cage while handling death. His words are like keys, unlocking the doors you’ve bolted shut, making that lighter side of you stir and rise, stronger, louder, more insistent with every syllable he utters.

It’s a delicate dance, this push and pull within yourself, a balance you have to master if you are to navigate the semester by his side. You realise with a growing sense of dread and exhaustion that you must learn quickly—how to respond to him without slipping too far into the gentle persona he knows, for your own sake and mind, and without letting the killer within emerge fully from the shadows. The lines are beginning to blur, the edges of your dual selves bleeding into each other, and you wonder if and how long you can keep them separate.

Without a warning, a deafening slap echos through the room, the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting tile. Instinctively, you turn to find Ben and Juan standing helpless beside their dislodged cadaver, its lifeless body sprawled across the floor. The clumsy attempt to turn it had clearly gone awry in all its glory.

Jungkook, always quick to lend a hand, rounds your table, but you halt him with a firm, “Stop.” He freezes mid-way, eyes wide as he looks back to you, and the room stills. Everyone’s attention hovers on you, suspended in the silence as if waiting for some deeper explanation.

You break the tension, your voice the coldest it’s every been. “It’s their body. They need to learn how to handle it properly themselves—and if not, they should learn how to correct their mistakes.”

The words leave your mouth without hesitation, even though your lighter side inside you protests at the detachment. Jungkook, visibly taken aback, stares at you as though he’s seeing a stranger. Still, he returns to his place beside the table, not leaving his eyes stray from you as you watch as Ben and Juan awkwardly manoeuvre their cadaver back onto the table.

Once everything resumes and you turn back, Jungkook leans in, his voice soft but filled with disbelief. “What was that? You always help. That wasn’t like you.”

You meet his gaze, your expression hard, impenetrable. “This isn’t a textbook, Jungkook. It’s a human body. If they can’t handle it, maybe they should reconsider their career.”

Jungkook stands there, visibly shaken by your words, mouth open, his brows furrowing as he wrestles with the dissonance between the person he thought he knew and the one now standing before him. Sensing the weight of his confusion, you steer him back to the project, eager to salvage him from the spiraling thoughts that threaten to cloud his mind and risk further questions.

"Let’s move on," you say, already stepping back from the body, the examination of the back complete anyway. "We’ve got a report to do as well."

Jungkook’s eyes linger on you for a moment, as if trying to read the thoughts behind your composed exterior. "Yeah," he says finally, his voice softening. "How about we grab some coffee? We can work on the report together."

You pause, the unexpected offer catching you off guard. But then you nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

"Sure," you say, already pushing the darker thoughts to the back of your mind. "Coffee sounds good."

You strip off your gloves with a smooth flick of your wrists, the latex snapping as it peels soaked with sweat away from your skin, the cadaver’s earthly remains now tucked into the cooler's sterile abyss. The faint metallic hiss of the door sealing shut behind goes unnoticed by you as you gather your belongings. Jungkook is at your side, silent but watching, his eyes following your movements with prying concern that he doesn’t bother to hide. As you both step into the corridor and finally onto the park, the oppressive air of the lab seems to lift like a spell, and when the afternoon sun greets your frozen skin, it is as though in an instant a switch is flipped inside you. The darkness within you recoils with a hiss, retreating like a vampire scorched by daylight. And it’s when you inhale deeply, that the warmth of the sun floods your senses with clarity, like fresh air filling a long-forgotten room.

Jungkook falls into step beside you, slowing his pace, though you notice his mind is still wrapped around the events of the past class. The two of you head towards the coffee shop on campus, a quiet cozy stroll that allows the tension of the lab to dissipate off your muscles. You glance over at him, catching his profile, the way his dark hair shifts in the light breeze while his arms swing softly with every step he takes. You’re the first to break the silence, sensing the need to soften the edges of your awkward interaction.

"How was your weekend, by the way?" you ask, keeping your tone light, as if the lab and its strange, unsettling energy was years behind you both.

Jungkook blinks at the question, almost as though he hadn’t expected it. „Huh?“

"I noticed your absence in the group," you try softly, gentle, like the way he knows you. "Even though you're mostly quiet, you're always… there, you know? Present. But you weren’t this weekend.“ The words linger for a while, your honesty catching him obviously off guard.

„Oh, it was good," a small smile tugs at his lips. "Spent it with my family. My brother came home from overseas, so it was a bit of a reunion."

You nod, your eyes sweeping over the campus as you walk the short distance, enjoying the moment with Jungkook to its fullest. His cheeks flush a faint shade of pink, but he masks it by pushing open the door to the coffee shop, holding it for you with an air of politeness that feels almost bashful. Inside, you step up to the counter and place your orders, the familiarity of the ritual, despite your friend group not being complete, settling your nerves entirely. You slide into a worn booth, Jungkook across from you, his gaze soft but still attentive as it always is.

And for the first hour, the two of you dive into the report, dissecting the details of the external autopsy while joking occasionally. As the work dwindles down, you lean back in your seat, stretching slightly mirroring Jungkook. With the weight of the first part of the report lifted, the conversation between you begins to shift into something lighter, more personal. It’s a natural transition, easy in a way you hadn’t expected after the tension of the lab or rather being alone with him. Jungkook talks about his family again—about his brother’s plans job, about the little traditions they’ve maintained. You find yourself smiling at the warmth in his voice, enjoying him having a complete, healthy and happy family.

"You know," you tease, a small smirk on your lips, "this feels a bit like a date, doesn’t it?"

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his cheeks once again dusted with that faint blush. He shifts in his seat, chuckling nervously. "It could be… if you wanted it to be," he replies softly, eyes locked steadily onto yours, though there’s an unmistakable shyness in the way he looks at you, as if he’s bracing for rejection but daring to still hope.

For a moment, you falter. The thought lingers, hangs in the space between you, tantalising in its simplicity, but the weight of your split reality crashes against it like a tidal wave. You can’t afford to entertain such possibilities—at least, not now, not when your plan isn’t executed and completed. Your mind whirls with the implications, the future, the darkness still lurking inside you, waiting for night to fall again.

Instead of answering, you look down at your coffee, watching the way the light reflects off its surface, wondering what drove you to even tease him in the first place. It’s easier to ignore the undercurrent of feeling, to push it aside. But Jungkook, undeterred by your silence or just hoping to save what’s left, continues the conversation, his voice mellow despite not receiving an answer. And tt’s easy, this back-and-forth of conversation, the small confessions of likes and dislikes of mundane things, the simple joys of everyday life. Without you noticing, he’s peeling back layers with each sentence, not realising himself how dangerous it could be if he got too close.

His next question catches you off guard. "I never asked," he begins, his tone curious, light. "How did you get into medicine?"

You glance up, your heart stuttering in your chest. You should have seen this coming. Jungkook’s eyes are wide with expectation, with a yearning to know you, perhaps the you beneath the layers of control and masks. But you can’t give him that—not yet, not ever, if you can help it.

"Medicine?" You feign a thoughtful expression, playing dumb as if you hadn’t already anticipated where this conversation was headed.

"Yes… no, just generally. What brought you here?" His eyes are earnest, filled with the desire to understand.

It hits you, he wants to hear your story, wants to hear which arrows have pierced you, which made you bleed, sometimes less, sometimes until no blood was left. For a fleeting moment, you want to, you want to tell him all, offering the the broken pieces of your heart and soul up with trembling hands for him to take. You imagine him standing before you, fixing them how you know he’d be able to, letting him be the one, who fights your battles where you’re too weak to even protect yourself from the blows. To stand tall before you, so you finally can heal.

But it’s only a fleeting moment that passes like the seasons, and so you hide away and lie „I’ve always been fascinated by the human body. I guess it just seemed like a natural choice—to want to help people."

It’s the safest answer, the one that reveals nothing of the truth.

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, as though he senses there’s more, but before he can press further, a sudden commotion draws your attention. A girl nearby stumbles, her books scattering across the floor in a chaotic mess and without hesitation, you rise from your seat, moving to help her gather them up.

„Here let me help,“ it’s instinctive, the part of you that seeks to protect and aid still very much alive despite it all.

"Thank you," the girl breathes, her voice filled with relief as you hand her the last of her papers. She smiles up at you, eyes shining with gratitude.

"You're welcome," you reply warmly, returning to your seat right after. Jungkook watches you, his expression caught somewhere between admiration and the newfound confusion. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze lingering on you as though he’s trying to piece together the contradictions you continue to present for the first time to him.

You settle back into the booth, your thoughts swirling again, but you catch sight of the setting sun and the time on your phone, and pack your things, briefly looking him in his dark eyes. „I have to go.“

Jungkook’s brow furrows slightly. "I thought we could grab dinner, maybe…?" His voice is hopeful, laced with a quiet plea which makes your heart squeeze on itself.

„I really can’t,“ you reply, the smile on your lips wavering. "I’ve got something to take care of." Before he can protest, you add quickly, "But another time! I’d love to…if you would still like to…“

„Of course!“ He stands with you without much thought. His hesitation is clear in the way his hands fidget at his sides, but after a short moment he steps closer, and for the first time, he pulls you into a hug. It’s brief, tentative, but warm, his arms wrapping around you with a gentleness that nearly breaks you in half.

You stiffen slightly but manage to return the gesture, pulling away quickly before the contact lingers too long. "Goodnight, Jungkook," you say, not meeting his eyes but offering him one last smile before turning on your heel and heading out the door.

The campus is quiet as you make your way back to your dorm, the sun now beginning to dip behind the horizon. And as the darkness creeps over your path, so too does the other side of you—the side that laughs menacingly within the corners of your mind, knowing that tonight, blood will be spilled. The first name on your list awaits, and nothing will stop you from striking.

prologue • 01 • masterlist • 03

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @jksusawife, @jayhoneybeecomb, @kookienooki, @hagridshaircare

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 1 month

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THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS after goodness knows how long, Knox Commissions are finally Open!

There are 5 Slots Available for this run. [August 17th 2024.] If things go well I hope to open more in the future!

If you'd like to see more examples of my art feel free to scroll through my art tag #KNOX ART (me)

[T.O.S below cut]

01 - General Terms

• Prices are subject to change based on demand.

• I have the right to reject any order for any reason.

• I may not respond to e-mails/messages or do commission work on Sundays.

• Do not share my personal/legal information (my legal name etc.) with any third parties. If you do you forfeit your right to the commission and you will be blacklisted from ever commissioning me again.

02 - Payment

• The currency accepted is CAD or USD and can be paid through PayPal, or Kofi.

• Commissions can be paid either 100% upfront or split 50% upfront and 50% after sketch approval.

• Don’t send me any payment before I have agreed to give you a slot and requested you to send me the payment.

03 - Process & Delivery

• The time it takes to finish your commission varies 1 week - 3 months depending on factors such as health, the complexity of the commissioned piece, other work, and personal matters.

• Once the piece is finished you will receive the full-resolution image. Note that there is no physical product.

04 - Revisions

• You get 3 rounds of changes on the commissioned piece included in the price.

• A fee will be added if you want something changed on the final drawing - unless a misunderstanding from my side has been made.

• If you wish for me to change something in the drawing you have previously approved, I will charge you a fee to change it. The amount of the extra charge depends on the change you want me to make and is usually based on an hourly wage.

• If your reference is unclear to start with, changes will come at an extra charge.

05 - Copyright & Usage

• I, "Knox" (the artist):

• I reserve the right to cancel and refund the order at any time for any reason.

• I retain all copyrights over the commissioned artwork.

• I will NOT claim the intellectual property (IP) of the commissioned artwork (your characters are still yours, etc.)

• I will NOT profit further from the commissioned artwork unless you (the customer) break any of the terms.

• I reserve the right to post the commissioned artwork online, in my portfolio as well as in publications such as art books.

• You (the customer/commissioner):

• You may upload the commissioned artwork on any website and social channels.

• You may NOT make profits from the commissioned piece (reselling, redistributing, uploading to POD-services, making prints for selling, using in a monetized youtube channel thumbnail etc.)

• You may NOT alter the commissioned artwork without my (the artist's) consent.

• You MAY be allowed to sell the artwork if it is a part of an Adoptable. Please discuss this with me (the artist) prior to paying for the artwork though.

• You retain the rights to the intellectual property (IP).

• You may NOT use the commissioned artwork for commercial purposes.

• The following is considered copyright infringement:

• Reproducing/using the copyrighted artwork commercially - means making money off it in any way not excluded from these terms.

• Claiming the artwork as your own

• Altering the artwork without my consent (making changes by hand or through AI generation etc.)

• In some cases, the commercial rights to the image may be purchased.

06 - Cancellation & Refund policy

• The buyer is not allowed a refund once I have started working on the commission.

• If for any reason I am unable to start your commission you will receive a full refund.

• If you cancel your order before I started it, you can get a full refund.

• The kill fee for cancelling the commission after work has begun is 50% of the commission's price. The client then receives the work as is.

• If the buyer wishes to cancel the commission after the work has started, the buyer can be issued a refund but agrees to pay the kill fee.

Paypal specific:

• If you are getting a refund, do not request a Paypal chargeback. I will transfer the money back to you myself.

• If you request a Paypal chargeback at any point when you were not allowed to ask for a refund you will lose all aforementioned rights to the commissioned piece and I will have the full right to profit further from it in any way. I will decline the chargeback and supply Paypal with our conversations in which we talk about the commission as evidence that I have completed work for you. Furthermore, you will be blacklisted for commissioning me again.

By commissioning me you acknowledge that you have read through the Terms of Service and agree to abide by the terms stated as well as accept the outcomes stated if the aforementioned terms are violated at any time.

#knox art (me)#Knox commissions #Art Commissions #Art Commissions Sheet #HERE WE GO--

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thecapricunt1616 · 6 months

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Balessan - (c.b. oneshot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒):“The Cub takes down The Bear at the 20 yard lineee!!” Mikey shouts ferociously, jumping up and pouncing on Carmys chest in a bodyslam. Carm groans, “Ohhh you little cheater- when did we start wrestling?! They don’t do bodyslams in football, kid” he wraps his arms around Mikey, caging him in and tickling his sides, causing him to squeal and laugh wildly.

♡ O.S Inspo: Balessan ; Also known as: Poplar Buds, Balsam Poplar, Balm of Gilead, Mecca, Mecca Balsam, & Bechan - This Magickal herb can be used to bring forth; Love, manifestations, protection, healing, de-stressing, and assisting in healing from the loss of a loved one. Use in love sachets; carry for healing, protection, and mending a broken heart. ♡ Summary: This amazing, big brained, fabulous & wonderful request is inspired from this ask from my beautiful flower @daysofyellowroses - Thank you my love. -- In this O/S You & Carmy spend a day with his nephew at the park!

♡ W/C: 4,200

♡ Posted Date: 03/19/2024

♡ A/N: Aaaa! look at me pumpin' these one shots out like hot cakes!!! Get your requests in folks I have a long weekend ahead hahaha!! This was BEYOND fun to write, thank you so much again Rose for such an amazing request. I hope it's everything you imagined!! I lovee love love writing mushy happy Carmy, he deserves all the love in his life!! I totally see him being the pushover uncle just like this, Happy Meals & Ice Cream for daysss!!! <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: NONE!!! Well... carmy smokes a cigarette at the end? That's all hahah - ***NO USE OF Y/N - AS LITTLE PHYSICAL DESCRIP. AS POSSIBLE - READER IS CALLED 'BLOSSOM' IN THIS O/S :)***

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Carmen had never felt true love before. He didn’t think he’d ever know what that felt like. He’d heard stories of parents meeting their newborn babies for the first time, saying that ‘it was an indescribable feeling of holding the entire world in the palm of your hands.’ And that to him, sounded like bullshit.

It was sweet and all, but considering the way his mother and father treated he and his siblings growing up- that moment was fleeting at the very least.

That was what he’d thought, until that is- he got the call that would change his life, forever.

Sugar and Pete had kept the gender of their baby a secret, Carmy was very excited for them, and though Pete wasn’t his favorite person- he knew in his heart he’d be a great dad. Better then he could ever do at least, so that had eased his mind for the new blood of his family.

Pete had called to inform him that Sugar had given birth, finally, he thought to himself. He didn’t realize that the labor process could take days. Sugar had went into the hospital on Tuesday, in the early afternoon when her water had broken- it was now 4 pm Thursday evening. It was about time for the kid to make an appearance.

He’d made his way down to the hospital right away, no questions asked. It was Sugar after all, and after Pete had told him she wasn’t having any visitors, but had requested that he specifically come see her- he wasn’t gonna let her down.

He’d even stopped at the 24-hour deli convenience store on the way, getting her a club sandwich that she’d been moaning about not being able to have for months - something about pregnant people not being allowed to have lunch meat? He wasn’t sure what that was about.

When he got in the room, it was so quiet, he could hear his heart thumping in his ears. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous- it’s not like the kid was gonna have an opinion on him…yet. But still, he knew first impressions were important. He also didn’t want to fuck anything up, he wasn’t very sure how to hold a baby- he’d never held Eva when she was young, and he heard babies necks were super floppy, so he was really nervous he’d hurt them by mistake.

“Hey..” he said softly, and Sugar sits up. She looked utterly exhausted, she was pale, her hair was knotted and sweaty all stuck to her forehead, and her eyes were bloodshot from either pain or being so tired, he wasn’t sure which.

“Bear! You came!” She said quietly, opening her arms for a hug. He walks over to her, carefully wrapping his arms around her as he wasn’t sure if her stomach would be hurting or not, and kissing her cheek lovingly.

“Y’re amazing Sugar, you did so good, thats fuckin’ crazy- you had a baby, Sug” he tells her, rubbing her arm gently. Carmen didn’t know much about pregnancy and birth, other than what he’d learned from Sugar over the past year or so. The only thing he really knew about the birthing process was what he’d seen on TV, and the fact that birth hurt like an absolute bitch, and that there was no way around it.

“Thank you…is that-“ she asked, picking up the bag he’d placed next to her on the bed. He smiled a bit, pulling the sandwich out.

“Club sandwich. Don’t say I never listen to you” he teased and she pouted, tears filling her eyes and she pulled him into another hug.

“Y’re the best Bear.” She said. “Sorry…I’m gonna be hormonal for like..another year” she laughed a bit.

He chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “I’m used to it by now.” He teased.

The door opened, and a nurse wheeled in a bundle of white striped blankets in to the room, lying in a bassinet.

“Oh! Uncle is here! Okay so baby did great, they’re all set. We got all the bloodwork we needed, took their k shot, everything is looking wonderful. I’ll let you get acquainted” she said, being sure not to give away the baby’s name or gender before they were ready, leaving the little bundle next to Sugars bedside before heading out and closing the door quietly behind her.

The baby coos, making sweet adorable little noises. Carmen took the bag of food for Sugar, placing it on her bedside table as she carefully picked up her baby, cradling them in her arms.

Carmen was in awe. Everything about them was so…tiny. So pure, so untouched by the world. He carefully nudged the blanket down so he could get a better view of their face, the babies teeny little hand peeking out. He couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped his lips as the babe curled their whole hand around his forefinger.

“Sug” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes and falling to his cheeks before he could try and hold them back. “Oh god…” he said softly, stroking the baby's tiny fingers with his thumb.

“Michael Anthony Lombardi” she said softly. He looks up at her, jaw dropped.

It was totally something sugar would do, so sentimental. Naming her first son after her 2 brothers. But now, Carmen felt even more attached to the little guy. He was carrying his name- he had to take care of him, protect him, the same way Michael had done for him.

Carmen sniffles, kissing her head and resting his cheek on top of it as he looks down at the beautiful little baby. Well- maybe not beautiful physically- yet. Carmen always thought brand new babies looked fairly weird, of course he’d never tell Sugar that, though.

But, beautiful in the sense that he knew what this baby meant for them, for their family. It was a brand new beginning, and maybe- just maybe…this would be enough to get his mother to clean up her act enough to be the grandmother for this baby how she couldn’t be a mother to he and his siblings. “Nice to meet you, Mikey” he said with the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle, vision blurry with tears.

It had been about 6 months since you and Carm had met, and one of the things you loved about him was what an active, engaged uncle he was with his little nephew, Michael.

He’d grown plenty now since the first time he and the little cub met, being ‘a whole hand and a thumb’ as Mikey proudly told you the time you’d met the little firecracker at the first family dinner you’d attended.

That little boy was Carmy’s sun, moon, and all of his stars. He was constantly spoiling him with new toys, clothes, taking him out for “Mikey and Bear” days, the kid was the lockscreen on his phone for crying out loud. If you weren’t dating him, with the way he talks about that boy- you’d think he was a single dad.

Sugar very much appreciated it though, she never wanted to stop working when she’d gotten pregnant, so being able to balance four different days off with 3 adults, rather than just split the duties between her and Pete- it helped their lives as a couple run a lot smoother overall.

It took a while for Carmy to even introduce you to Mikey. He’d been nervous, reverting to his old ways of ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ and nothing would crush him more, then introducing his favorite little guy to someone, getting him used to them, and then them leaving him.

He could handle that rejection- but he damn sure wasn’t gonna subject Mikey to that same pain. If there was one thing Carmen swore, it was to protect the child with everything he had.

This was the third time you’d be meeting Mikey. Carmy had asked if you wanted to take him to the park together for a picnic after he’d picked him up from school, and of course you agreed. There was no better way to spend the afternoon than sharing snacks with your Bear under the shade of oak trees from the late spring sun, and chasing around Sugars mini-me until he clonked out on the blanket for a nap.

When you’d arrived to the park to meet them, you spotted Carm’s large black blanket with his backpack and 2 matching big and small Nalgene water bottles, adorned with stickers from different water parks and amusement parks they’d been to together, but he nor Mikey were nowhere to be seen. But you couldn’t miss them with how loud Mikey was being.

“No! No! I call foul!!” Carm laughed boisterously. You continue on, seeing them come in to view past the blockade of a large tree- to find Carmy rolling in the grass as Mikey tackled him for the football he was holding.

“The Cub takes down The Bear at the 20 yard lineee!!” Mikey shouts ferociously, jumping up and pouncing on Carmys chest in a bodyslam.

Carm groans, “Ohhh you little cheater- when did we start wrestling?! They don’t do bodyslams in football, kid” he wraps his arms around Mikey, caging him in and tickling his sides, causing him to squeal and laugh wildly.

“Wow! Uncle Bear has been lacking at the gym, thanks for takin’ care of my light stuff Mikey” you said teasingly with a big smile.

Mikey quickly got up, running over to you “Blossom!!!” he squealed, crashing into your waist, nearly knocking you over in the process. Blossom had become your nickname in the family, since the first time they’d met you, Carm insisted you’d smelt like cherry blossoms, to which Sugar and Richie agreed, so from then on- you were Blossom.

“Woah! Kid you’re getting strong huh? Peewee football training been gettin intense?” You give him a big hug.

Carm chuckled, getting up and dusting the grass and leaves from his hair and shirt, coming over and greeting you with a peck on the lips. “Tell me ‘bout it- Thanks for meeting me, kids got crazy energy today.” He said, ruffling the boys curly soft brown hair lovingly.

“Nowww can we eat our lunch?” Mikey looked up at him, his pretty blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon light. He really did look like Mikey, and Carmy mixed together in the best way. The Berzatto family genes were mighty strong, at least on the men’s side.

“Yes Cub. Y’know…you scammed me into a happy meal before we got here, how can you be so starved?” He teased, causing you to giggle.

“Again? Wow Carm, you’re going softer and softer as the days go by” you teased, sitting down with he and Mikey on the comfortable blanket under the shade of the trees.

“Well it’s hard to tell him no. Did you know he got a 100% on his spelling test t’day? Mikey, tell Blossom how to spell ‘water’ ” he told him with a grin.

Mikey looks over proudly “w-a-t…” he stops for a moment, looking at Carmy nervously.

“You got it bud, keep goin’- sound it out, what’s next?” Carmy encourages gently.

“E! It's E! w-a-t-e-r!” Mikey finishes proudly and you both clap for him excitedly.

“Oh my goodness! You are such a smart boy. Good job Mikey!” You gush, giving him a high five.

“That’s right the smartest. First spelling test of the year, and you nailed it bud!!” Carmy praised, hugging him and kissing his head sweetly.

“Mommy’s gonna be so excited!” He said, sitting crisscross as he opened up his pb&j Carm packed for him.

“She’s gonna be stoked, Cub. Absolutely stoked” you told him, taking the sandwich Carm had offered you.

“Oh! Blossom I learned a new joke- listen, so you say who’s there when I say ‘knock knock’ got it?” Mikey asks and you nod with a smile.

“Alright, thank you for my lines ahead of time, Cub” you joked, earning a chuckle out of Carmen who had surely heard this joke one million times since he’d learned it, considering he saw the kid no less then 5 days a week.

“Knock knock!” Mikey said, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m doing the dishes” you said, causing Mikey to burst into adorable giggles and Carm to follow suit since he couldn’t help himself when Mikey got started.

“Nooo! Blossom!” He giggled “you say ‘who’s there’ this time, ok?” He said and you nod.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make sure to be not so busy this time.” You teased with a giggle.

“Knock knooock!” He said again.

“Hold on just a second! I need to feed mister mittens- my cat!” You said and he laughs again, shaking his head.

“You promised! Blossom! It’s ‘who’s there!’ “ he giggled.

“Okayyy! Okay! Whoooos there?” You oblige.

“Harry!!!” He said happily, popping a grape in his mouth.

“I don’t know a Harry- so scram!” You teased and he laughed so hard he snorted, causing you and Carmy to crack up in a fit of laughs together.

“You’re bad at jokes Blossom, here watch, Bear will do it right f’me. Bear, knock knock” he looks over at Carm.

“Who’s there, Cub?” He said, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Harry” he smiled big, “listen blossom” Mikey urges, causing you to giggle.

“Harry who” Carm said with a large grin. “Harry up and open the door it’s raining out here!!!” Mikey said, bursting in to a fit of giggles which of course caused you and Carm to join.

“Ready or not here I come!” You hear Carmy say. You hold your finger to your lips, holding Mikey tightly in your lap in the tube slide so you both won’t fall and give up your ingenious hiding spot the two of you had come up with.

“Shhh! We gotta be quiet Cub or he’s gonna find us- the bear will eat you!” you joked and he covered his mouth quickly to contain his giggles.

“Where are youuuu!” Carmy called from the other side of the playground, you giggled quietly to yourself.

“We picked a good spot bud!” you whisper proudly and he nods, hugging your arm sweetly. Leg suddenly cramps up from being in such an awkward position in a tube meant for children much shorter then you, and you gasp quietly, moving your foot to relieve it but in the struggle- your flip-flop slips off, sliding down the tube slide and you hear it thump on the ground below, blowing up your hiding spot.

You and Mikey look at eachother as you hear Carm laugh, “Ohhhh! Dead!! You’re both dead!” he said and you quickly lift Mikey behind you.

“Go Mikey! Save yourself he’s gonna eat you!!!” you laugh and he scrambles out of the tube as Carm climbs up from the bottom, grabbing your bare foot.

You squeal in laughter as he pulls you down the slide by your feet, catching you at the bottom and kissing all over your face and neck, nibbling as he goes. “You’ve been caught” he growls playfully, pinning your arms above your head and kissing where your shirt rode up over your stomach leaving playful lovebites on your hips.

“Hey!” Mikey yells, running up and hugging Carms leg, hanging on it like a little monkey. “Thats my best friend! Leave her alone you big grizzly bear!” he yells through his giggles, playfully hitting Carmys leg.

“Ohhhh you’re dead Cub, dead meat buddy” he pulled away from you, scooping Mikey up and swinging him around. “Y’think y’can just beat up y’re best uncle mm little man?” he holds him upside down by his legs holding him carefully and dangling him in front of your face causing him to laugh wildly. “I present your savior Blossom, he’s been defeated” he sways him teasingly causing him to laugh more.

“Oh noooo! Cub! The Bear got you! I forgot to tell you….he and I were working together in secret- mwahaha!!” you laugh evilly, tickling his exposed belly and he wiggles screeching in laughter.

“Not fair- Not fair!!!” he said between giggles. Carm carefully laid him on your lap so he wouldn’t get sick from being upside down and checks his watch for the time.

“Alright- we got 15 minutes, do we want swings, slide, or playing a game?” Carmy asked, causing Mikey to whine.

“Noooo! Bear! It’s not time yet!!! It’s not even dark” he pouted, pointing at the sun, causing Carm to smile.

“Y’re right, its not dark, but bein’ a big man in kindergarten means you got big man responsibilities now, like goin’ home and doin’ homework w’Dad yeah? He’s gonna be waitin’ on you, Dad’s not a man I can reason with m’friend, Higher rank on the totem” he ruffled his hair.

“Fiiiine” Mikey grumbled. “I wanna do swings, race me-” he jumps up from your lap, sprinting towards the swingset.

“Wha- hey! You’re supposed to say 1,2,3, go! Those are the rules cheater!” Carmy laughs as he jogs after him. You slipped on your flipflop, going after the two boys.

“I beat you! See Blossom my new shoes make me so fast!” Mikey called to you proudly, hopping up and sitting in the swing as Carmy finally caught up.

“I did! Super fast Mikey!” you agreed with a giggle making your way up to the swingset.

“Oh! Oh! Blossom, let’s see who can get higher!” Mikey said happily and you oblige, sitting on the swing next to him.

“Alright, Bear- you’re the judge I guess” you smiled, starting to pump your legs.

“I’m a tough critic, I expect perfect form outta you” he teased, sitting down on the picnic table in front of the swingset as he watched.

“I’m gonna win” Mikey said confidently, already getting a few feet higher then you had.

You giggled, “Yeah- cause you had a head start” you counter, pumping your legs harder trying to gain more momentum.

“It’s lookin’ good for Mikey babe, keep it up kid y’re doin’ great” Carm encouraged, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his legs out as he watched.

“Bear can I jump off and you catch me?” Mikey asked hopefully to which Carmen laughs.

“Noooo way kiddo, I’m not takin’ a trip to the ER t’night, I got work in the morning and either i’ll end up hurt, or y’mother will kill me” he said, causing you to laugh as well.

“You’re gonna break your neck kid, don’t do that at school, did that once as a kid and I broke my ankle” you giggled, gasping as your flipflop flew off once again and hit Carmen right over the top of the head, causing you and Mikey to burst out in a fit of giggles.

“Hey!” Carm said, rubbing his head jokingly with a chuckle.”Those things are proving to be a horrible choice of park footwear, baby” he snorts, setting the shoe next to him on the bench for when you got off.

“I’m sorry! My work shoes were a worse choice and these are all I had in my locker” you giggled, the wind whipping your hair as you get higher and higher in the air.

“Bear! Bear! Look how high I am!!!” Mikey said proudly to which Carm nods with a big grin.

“That’s right bud! Y’re so high right now, bet you could touch an airplane if it was flyin’ over huh?” he said, digging his phone out of his pocket to take a video. “Say hi to Mommy!” he said and Mikey laughed happily, waving at Carm.

“Hiiii Mommy! I love you!” he said sweetly with a giggle. “Am I beating Blossom? Huh Bear? Am I higher?” he said and Carm chuckled.

“Mhmm- sorry baby, I think Mikey has ya beat this time around,” he said, ending the video and slipping his phone back in his pocket.

“Well how could I beat the best huh?” you mused, stopping pumping your legs so your swing would slow.

“I told you!” Mikey giggled, digging his heels into the woodchips to come to a hard stop and running up to Carmy, giving him a big hug. “Can we get ice cream bear?” he asked and Carm laughed, shaking his head.

“You don’t stop, huh kiddo? No ice cream, It’ll spoil y’r dinner. How ‘bout, if y’really good at school this week- When I get you on Friday, we’ll go you ‘n me yeah?” he pats his back and Mikey nods with a pout.

“Pinky promise” He holds up his pinky and Carmy hooks his own around it, kissing Mikeys hand, and Mikey kisses his.

“See? Deal” he ruffled his brunette curls and got up, grabbing the flip flop and coming up to you, crouching down grabbing your leg and kissing down your calf causing you to giggle before he carefully put the flip flop on your foot.

“I want a piggyback!” Mikey said, jumping on Carmys back to which he caught his balance with his forearm.

“Woah! Okay! Alright piggyback it is bud but y’gotta tell me yeah? We don’t want anyone gettin’ hurt” he told him, hiking him up on his waist as he stood up, Mikey wrapping his arms around his neck securely.

“Ok I’ll tell you next time” he replied. You hopped off the swing, taking Carmy’s hand and interlacing your fingers as you walked, swinging your hands together happily. The weather was absolutely perfect today. Not a cloud in the sky, perfect humidity, 72 degrees, you were surprised there weren’t more people here at the park other than the fact it was a Wednesday afternoon.

The three of you made your way back over to the blanket, and Carmy gently sets Mikey down to fold it up and pack up his backpack with the remainder of the food we couldn’t finish. “Blossom look! Look! I can jump so high in my new shoes!” Mikey said, tugging your pants to look at him and you obliged, keeping him busy as Carm tried to get everything situated to pack into the car.

“Alright little jumping bean, time to go home d’you wanna race to the car, or I’ll carry you?” He asked, putting on his backpack and carrying Mikeys for him.

“Race- 123go!” Mikey said quickly before taking off and you laughed. Carm shakes his head with a smile, holding your hand as you both walked after him to the car.

The ride back was full of laughter and singing Bluey songs, of course. That was Mikey’s favorite show at the moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way Carmy sang with Mikey along to every word. Carmy had even gotten a little Bluey air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, just another little piece of Mikey that hung around, alongside his carseat that permanently lived in the back, the polaroid of him, sugar, and Mikey on his dash, the many toys scattered along the backseat. It was more than clear that the little guy held his entire heart in the palms of his hands.

“Alright buckaroo” Carmy said as he pulls into sugars driveway. Mikey unbuckles himself, flinging forward and wrapping you into a hug.

“Bye awesome blossom, thanks for playing with me” he said sweetly. You smiled, ruffling his hair and wrapping your arms around him.

“We’ll do it again soon, bud. Be good yeah? Listen t’your momma” You told him, patting his back. Carmy got out, grabbing his bluey backpack for him, helping him out of the car and carrying him up the steps, opening up the door and heading in to drop him off.

You opened up the center console, digging out Carm’s cigarettes and a lighter, knowing he was gonna be craving one bad when he got back in the car. Sugar didn’t even have to ask, as soon as the baby was born- if he was gonna be around the baby he wasn’t smoking until after he’d left, so there was absolutely no chance of any secondhand smoke being passed on to him.

Cracking the window, you lit it, taking a drag as he shuts the door behind him and comes back to the car. You offered the cigarette between your fingers and he smiled, taking it after he buckled his seatbelt. “Have I reminded you today, how much I love you my perfect angel” He leaned in, giving you a sweet lingering kiss on the lips.

You smiled, humming softly at the sweet gesture. “Yes- well- not in person today, but, you did text me - good morning, I love you when you went to work, so that counts” he smiled as he took a drag, backing out of the driveway carefully.

“Well, I love you baby, What are we doin’ f’r dinner? Am I cookin’ er we goin out?” he cracks his window, ashing his cigarette before having another drag, resting his tattooed hand on your thigh, stroking gently as he drove.

“I’m in the mood for some Berzatto Family Pasta” you hum, resting your hand out the window to feel the cool kiss of the spring evening breeze. “Family pasta it is, Blossom”

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