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joemama-2 · 2 months ago

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" all i want for christmas is you "

♡ drabble of my series velvet lies

♡ gojo x reader

♡ synopsis: it's the first christmas you're spending with your boyfriend, satoru gojo.

♡ tags/warnings: fluff, angst, hints of a dysfunctional household, suggestive content

♡ wc: 3.3k

Year: 2015

“Where are you going?”

You stop midway, having just almost slipped out of the front food undetected. You thought she was still sleeping. Turning your head over your shoulder slightly, bag slung over your shoulder, hood on. “I…I’m sleeping over Satoru’s.”

“Hah,” she scoffs out, lip curving up bitterly. “And who gave you the permission to?”

“I’m nineteen, mom.”

“And still living under my roof.”

Your lips purse, holding back a frown. It’s already nine at night, Christmas Eve. You told Satoru you’d be at his by nine-thirty. If she holds you up any longer, you’ll be late. “Mom, please, okay? We’re not doing anything today and I want to spend it with him.”

Your mother stalks forward, snatching the bag off your shoulder. She looks in, spotting a small gift inside. When her hand reaches in to bring it out, you stop her with a grip on her wrist. “Please, stop. You’re drunk.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow, her lips twisting into a scowl. “Drunk?” she spits out, yanking her wrist free. “How dare you accuse me of that?”

The bitterness in her voice stings, but you hold your ground—you have to. “Look mom, I don’t want to fight right now.” You keep your tone measured, and calm, acting like the adult in this situation. You’re always the adult around her. “It’s Christmas Eve. Can we just—”

“Can we just what?” she cuts you off, her voice rising. “Pretend everything’s fine while you run off to God knows where with him? Always with him. Do you even care about this family anymore?”

Your jaw clenches at her words, frustration bubbling under your skin. “It’s not like that, Mom,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. “Satoru’s my boyfriend. He’s important to me.”

“More important than me?” she snaps back, her words laced with hurt. “Than your own mother? Than the one who gave birth to you and brought you into this world, you ungrateful brat.” Her nails dig into your skin while she tries to hold onto you, shaking your arm with vigor as if it’s a physical alignment to the harsh words she grits at you.

You falter, the weight of her question pressing against your chest. “That’s not what I’m saying,” you mutter, lowering your gaze. At this moment, you feel as if whatever you say is not good enough for her. Whatever you say, it’ll spark an unnecessary argument or fight—something you don’t want nor have the energy for. Carefully, you remove yourself from her tight hold, the alcohol in her system giving you the ampleness to do that quite easily.

She exhales a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. For a moment, the tension between you softens, but it’s short-lived. She steps closer, holding the bag tightly against her chest. “If you walk out that door,” she says, her voice trembling with unspoken pain, “don’t bother coming back.”

Your heart skips a beat, the ultimatum hanging heavy in the air. You can’t tell if she means it—if the alcohol is speaking for her, or if it’s a wound she’s trying to inflict deliberately. “I’m nineteen,” you say again, your voice quieter this time, tinged with sadness. “I love you, Mom. But I just want to have a happy day today.” You reach for the bag, and for a moment, she doesn’t resist. Her fingers tighten around the strap as you pull it away, but she lets go, her expression unreadable.

“He’ll never stay.” Your mother says, tinged with a hint of jealous amusement. “Men like him don’t go for little girls like you. It won’t last, it never does. And when that happens, don’t come crying to me. Because I’ll tell you I told you so.”

Turning toward the door, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle. You won’t give in, not now. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. So, you suck it up, taking what she says to a very surface-level degree. Because at the end of the day, you have some respect for her. But that is diminishing slowly and slowly until one day, you might never have it anymore. And you’re okay with that, maybe even waiting for it. “Merry Christmas,” you say softly, not looking back.

You don’t wait for a reply.

The cold night air bites at your skin as you step outside, the door clicking shut behind you. Your chest feels tight, but you push the feeling aside, tugging your hood further over your head. Satoru is waiting, and for now, that’s all that matters.

“Minus ten points for tardiness.”

You sigh, stepping in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Closing and locking the door behind you, he follows you. Peering into the bag that housed some clothes to sleep in, his eyes are drawn to the small present. A grin sneaks its way onto his face, hand steathily reaching in. “Oh? And what’s thi—”

“No,” your eyes roll, effectively swatting his sneaky fingers. “No peeking, or you’ll be on the naughty list.”

He giggles, following you into his living room. Watching as you set your bag onto the lavish sofa, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind you. The tips of his snowy hair tickle below your jaw, not being able to resist the shiver and subsequent airy chuckle the falls from you. You feel his smile against your neck, his soft and full lips planting sweet kisses along the stretch of it like he’s tediously worshipping you. “I’m always on the naughty list, baby. You know that.”

Again, you roll your eyes—this time in more amusement than annoyance. “And naughty boys don’t get presents, Satoru.”

“What do you mean? I have my present right here in my arms.” Another chuckle and he’s kissing up your neck to your ear, playfully nibbling at your lobe. His hand turns your chin so you’re face to face. He calculates the twinkle in your pretty eyes for a second—but a second is more than enough time. Leaning down and indulging in you. “My present tastes sweet, too.” He mumbles against your lips, head tilting to deepen the passionate moment.

Twisting your body to face him better, your arms wrap around his neck while his around your waist. You two stay like this for a few seconds, inhaling each other’s breath like it’s a meal, tongues rubbing together. The kiss deepens, his hands slipping under the hem of your sweater to rest against the warmth of your skin. The heat of the moment wraps around you both, drowning out the chilly air outside the window. It’s intoxicating, the way his lips move against yours, slow yet insistent, as if he’s savoring every second.

When you finally pull back for air before it goes too far, his forehead rests against yours, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. His breath fans across your lips, warm and teasing. “Told you, silly. I’ve actually been good,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that low, sultry tone that always sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of his albino hair out of his face. “Good boys don’t try to bribe Santa with kisses, Satoru.”

“Santa should’ve known what she was getting into when she got with me.” His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “Besides,” he adds, tilting his head slightly, “if I wasn’t good, you wouldn’t be kissing me back like that.”

You sigh, lightly hitting his chest. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Only because you fill me up,” he fires back without missing a beat, the cheekiness in his grin giving way to a softer look. His thumb brushes against your cheek as he gazes at you, all traces of teasing momentarily replaced by something deeper. It’s in these moments that you realize just how much he loves you, how much he treasures these quiet times together when the world falls away, leaving just the two of you. “Thank you,” he whispers suddenly, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard.

“For what?” you ask softly, brushing your fingers along the nape of his neck.

“For always being my home,” he says, his eyes holding yours as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. “For making me feel like I belong.”

Your chest tightens, warmth spreading through you. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “You’re my home too, Satoru.” His arms tighten around you in response feels like a promise, one that doesn’t need words.

After a beat of silence, he decides to bite the bullet. “Do you wanna tell me why you were late?” You hesitate, lips thinning into a line he knows all too well. It’s the look that tells him he already knows the answer, it’s like a telepathic way of communicating with one another. He doesn’t push, nodding and interlacing your fingers before bringing you over to the kitchen. “That’s fine. We don’t have to talk about anything. Just you and me, that’s it. Parents gone so we have the whole place to ourselves, remember?”

You let out a soft sigh of relief, thankful that he isn’t pressing further. It’s one of the things you appreciate most about Satoru—his ability to read you, to know when to dig deeper and when to let things be. He squeezes your hand gently as he holds onto you, the warmth of his home wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

The faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla lingers in the air, remnants of whatever candles he had lit earlier. The cozy space is dimly lit, with only the soft glow of fairy lights strung along the windows. Satoru releases your hand to open the fridge, rummaging around with exaggerated movements to make you laugh. “Let’s see,” he says, peering inside. “What can I whip up to impress my lovely guest tonight? Gourmet pizza rolls? Instant ramen? Or…” He pulls out a half-eaten cheesecake with a dramatic flourish, “this masterpiece of dairy and sugar.”

You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he fires back, setting the cheesecake on the counter. He turns to you, leaning casually against the counter with that boyish grin you can never resist. “Seriously, though, are you hungry? Thirsty? Or just here to bask in my undeniable charm?”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll take some of that cheesecake, thanks. And water.”

“Excellent choice, my dear.” He grabs two forks and fills up a glass of water, sliding one toward you before hopping onto the counter like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He takes a bite, pointing his fork at you. “You know, I should charge you for this. High-quality desserts like this don’t come cheap.”

“Oh, please,” you tease, taking a bite of your own. “You didn’t even make it.”

“Semantics, semantics,” he says with a wave of his hand, but his smile softens as he watches you. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you both eat, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. After a moment, he speaks again, quieter this time. “I meant it, you know. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. I’m just glad you’re here.”

You glance up at him, his blue eyes meeting yours with an openness that always makes your chest tighten. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world, makes it harder to keep your walls up. “Thanks, Satoru,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I really needed this tonight.”

His grin returns, brighter than ever. “Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty great at being exactly what people need.” He winks, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “What you need.”

For the first time that day, you feel the weight on your chest ease, just a little. Maybe tonight doesn’t have to be about the things you’re running from. Maybe, just for a while, it can be about the person sitting right in front of you. Your boyfriend. Your best friend. Your one and only. Yeah, you think to yourself as you wipe some frosting from the corner of his mouth.

You are what I need.

“You don’t have to record this…” you mutter in embarrassment. The hat he made you wear was one thing, but now he’s acting like some dad. Recording in landscape mode as you open the gift he wrapped for you.

“Pfft! Open it! It’s a memory we can look back on when we’re old and crippled.” He waves you off with one hand, lifting his head over the phone to give you a certain look.

With finality, you exhale heavily and unwrap your gift. Your own anticipation is eating at you, hoping he didn’t get you something too extravagant. You already told him not to, but he’s Satoru. Besides, you’d feel like shit if he got you something expensive and yours isn’t. Nimble fingers unwrap the paper decorated with red hearts and Christmas trees, finally getting it out the way. In its wake is a small, rectangular box.

“Proposing already?”

“Not yet.”

You snicker, taking in a deep breath before opening it. Your eyes widen, lips parting a small gasp falls from your lips. “...sa…toru…” you say, feeling a familiar tinkle to your heart, skin heating up and smile subconsciously growing. Carefully, you remove the piece from its placement in the box. Holding it up to the light, it looks even more beautiful. “This is…” The delicate necklace sparkles under the glow of the fairy lights, a silver chain adorned with a small, intricate charm shaped like a snowflake. Tiny gemstones catch the light, creating a mesmerizing shimmer. “The one you wanted.” He finishes for you, lowering his phone, the camera still rolling. “Open it.”

When you open the pretty snowflake locket, there’s a picture printed inside. A miniature version of the first picture you two took together. It’s awkward and your smiles seem a little forced due to the close proximity. But looking back at it now, all you can think of is how endearing it is. How cute it is. When you meet his eyes, he’s already looking at you—tenderness in his expression. “Thank you, Satoru. It’s beautiful, I love it.”

His lips curl into a soft smile, the kind that makes your chest tighten in a way you can’t quite put into words. “I’m glad you love it,” he says quietly, his gaze steady, unwavering.

Your fingers lightly brush over the tiny photo, the memory of that day flooding back to you. It had been awkward, both of you still figuring each other out, yet there was something unspoken in the air even then. Looking at it now, it feels like the perfect encapsulation of where it all began—a little clumsy, a little uncertain, but undeniably sweet. “You kept this picture all this time?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise and affection.

“Of course I did,” he repliesmas if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It was the first moment I had proof you actually liked being around me.” He laughs, his playful tone back in full force.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork,” he counters, moving closer. “I wanted you to have something that’s just… us. A little reminder of how far we’ve come.”

Your heart swells, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s stopped spinning. “It’s perfect,” you say, meeting his gaze. “It’s so thoughtful, Satoru. I’ll treasure it.”

He leans down, his nose nudging yours. “You better, because it’s a symbol of my undying devotion to you.” His voice is teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes you smile.

“Well, now I feel bad about my gift,” you admit, scrunching your nose. “It’s nothing compared to this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you properly. “Anything from you is the best gift I could ask for. Besides, I already got what I wanted—you, here with me.”

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable. “Alright, alright, you win. I’ll stop doubting myself.”

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Because there’s no competition—you’re already the best thing in my life.” And just like that, you’re reminded why you fell for him in the first place.

When it’s his turn to open his present from you, he’s making you hold the camera now. You’re nervous—rightfully so. Satoru has everything he could need and want, and then some. So coming up with a gift was both hard and tedious for you. But, you can pat yourself on the shoulder for a job well done.

He’s much more quick when unrwrapping it, big smile on his face that barely shows off his excitement. In just barely three seconds, the wrapping is off and carelessly thrown to the side, opening the little box. His eyes widen for a moment, and then his expression shifts into something that makes your heart flutter—equal parts surprise and awe. Nestled inside the box is a custom-made keychain, simple yet meaningful. It’s crafted from silver, with a small engravement of your shared favorite flower, a purple hyacinth. The small phrase, “here with you, now and always.” is below the flower.

For a moment, he’s speechless, his fingers carefully lifting the keychain from its box. The soft clinking sound it makes as it moves feels like the only noise in the room. “You made this?” he finally asks, looking up at you, his voice softer than usual.

You nod, biting your lip nervously. “I… I had it made, yeah. I know it’s nothing big, but I wanted to give you something personal. Something you could keep with you wherever you go.”

His thumb brushes over the engraving, and his lips tug into the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “It’s perfect,” he says, his tone filled with a tenderness that sends warmth spreading through your chest. “I mean it, this is—this is incredible.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a wave of relief. “You really like it?”

“Like it?” He sets the keychain down carefully, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “I love it.” His eyes glimmer with something almost boyish, the excitement he always has when you do something that touches his heart. “I mean, look at it!” he says, picking it up again. “This is so thoughtful. The writing? And the flower? Genius. It’s your flower, I always think of you whenever I see one. It’s like you’re with me all the time now, even when you’re not.”

You laugh softly, your nerves dissipating. “That was the idea.”

He grins, turning back to you and holding it up proudly. “You’ve officially raised the bar for all future gifts. I’ll carry this with me everywhere, you know that?”

“I’d hope so,” you murmur, watching as he clips it onto his keys right then and there.

Once he’s done, he pulls you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers into your hair.

You smile, your hands resting against his back. “I guess we’re both pretty amazing, then.”

He chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “Best Christmas ever,” he declares, and the look in his eyes tells you he means it.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispers back, hands itching for you.

You two seal the end of the gift giving with a kiss, straddling his hips. It feels just right. His hands, his lips, his whispered praises. Like he said, you have the night to yourselves, and you plan to take complete advantage of that. Because after all, that’s not the only gift you’re giving him.

In the future, one night after a particular revelation that shook his world, he finds himself looking at the keychain that’s been locked in a drawer he hasn’t dared to open in years. And if he scrolls high enough in his photo album, he’ll come across a familiar video that starts wholesome but ends with something far more…naughty.

(You two forgot the camera was rolling.)

a/n: hi everyone, today i felt inspired and wanted to give out a cute little drabble pre everything. i hope ur all having a wonderful day and make sure to eat well!, tagging the usual taglist

taglist is now closed

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins

@sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited

@duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee

@devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts @bitchycloudstrawberry @tiffyisme3760 @iheartshopping

@chiara-hotel @uriahs-barn @celloccino @roronoazorosbxtchh @pseudophyllus

@ratedrrrr @m1gota @tojideckmuncher @yigaclvn @sukunaslve

@eiizabeth-torres @cherrythiccums0 @satorustorm @zoeyflower @username23345

@i0313z @gourdlorddgubes @partypoison00 @quinnyundertow @sorilyae

@redzscare @aldebrana @nycmagi @s4ikooo1 @dreaming-lis @gigiiiiislife

@boothillglazer @miss-dior @miakxn @rjreins

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basicallyjeankirschtein · 1 month ago

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lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna

chapter 8

summary: gojo is an asshole. sukunas there for you, though (and toji)

* ooc, MDNI, mentioned dubcon (between gojo and reader) because reader was under the influence, toji being shameless(and a freak), mentioned masturbation and dacryphilia

not proofread

masterlist. prev. next

you were shocked gojo would even think about bringing that night up. even more so hurt, you guys promised to never bring that up again. and to imply that you were hooking up with sukuna? that was disgusting.

two months ago when you were beginning to introduce shoko and utahime together, shoko invited you two to a party. gojo clearly wanted to tag along, so the two of you reluctantly agreed (with shokos approval, of course).

at the party, shoko and utahime obviously hooked up. everyone could see the tension between them, and you were happy for them. but that left you and gojo alone, and after coercing you to drink much more than you wanted, the two of you ended up hooking up, as well. gojo must’ve been jealous utahime was getting more pussy than him.

you don’t remember the night at all. you were way too drunk, but gojo could strangely remember everything. you didn’t know how, considering he claimed to also be drunk.

you were tired of this disrespect. you were known to be a compliant, quiet girl. you always let others take advantage and disrespect you, but you were honestly sick of it. you’ve had so many bottled up emotions over the years of letting people walk all over you, and you think it’s finally time you stand up for yourself.

you did not hesitate to block gojo. yea, maybe he’ll tell everyone you guys had sex or whatever, but it’s not like he had evidence. you’ll just say it never happened and use your scary dog privileges (sukuna) to make him back off.

could you consider sukuna someone you could trust? he told you if gojo ever did anything, he’d be there to help. so you did consider him someone you could trust, despite how scary he was.

someone delivered your shower products just as sukuna finally reappeared.

“sorry,” sukuna said in his usual (and insanely attractive) gruff voice.

“i told toji off. he won’t bother you anymore.”

you didn’t want to know what sukuna did to make toji stop, so you just smiled at him.

“it’s okay, really.” you said, trying to sound as appreciative as possible. “could you help me with the shower? and i know you told me not to pay you back, but im going to anyway-“

sukuna grunted, his face going red once more. is it hot in here? if it was, you didn’t feel it.

“help… you in the shower?”

you tilted your head, confused why he was acting so fidgety. “if you don’t mind… i just need you to show me which direction to turn the knob to make it hot-“ you felt stupid for asking. he probably thought you were an idiot.

“oh.” he coughed, quickly pushing past you to the bathroom,

“how hot do you like it?” he asked, his face turned away from you (much to your dismay).

“i want to feel like im boiling alive.”

sukuna snorted at your response. it was cute, causing you to laugh as well.

“it’ll take a minute to heat up, just yell for me if you need anything.” he told you, still avoiding eye contact as she made his way past you and to the door.

before leaving, he called over his shoulder,

“and i told you not to worry about paying me back.”

with that, he closed the door behind him, and once again, you were alone. you made sure to lock the door behind him, not wanting toji to waltz in again like he owned the place (well, he did).

you hummed as you stripped yourself, setting your clothes down beside the towel sukuna left for you by the sink. you hated putting on dirty clothes, especially after a shower, but it’ll have to do.

almost as if toji could read your mind, he knocked on the bathroom door. this caused you to jump, a bit shocked by the sudden noise.

at least this time he knocked.

“did sukuna leave you any clothes?” he asked, his voice deep and gruff. they both had that same almost scary tone to their voice, a roughness to it, yet you could somehow easily tell the two apart.

“um, no, it’s alright.” you yelled from behind the door, covering yourself up despite the door being locked.

“need a pair?” he asked. you glanced at your used clothes, biting your lip as you pondered if you should take him up on his offer.

“if you don’t mind?” you finally responded. you got no response, only the sound of footsteps fading away.

you wondered if he was leaving to get you clothes, or if he just did that to mess with you. you scrunched your face up in confusion, this guy was weird.

you shrugged to yourself, not expecting him to come back after the fifth minute. he must’ve just been teasing, what a weirdo.

you sighed, moving the curtain to the side so you could step in the shower, and then, of course, toji knocked. tool him long enough.

“i’ve got you some clothes, doll. sorry i took a while, was trying to find some old clothes that might be smaller so they’d fit.”

you blinked, still shocked he came back. you stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around you as you quietly stepped towards the door.

as if noticing you discomfort and hesitation, toji spoke up, “i’ll leave them for you out here if you’re too shy to take them from me.”

you didn’t know if he was flirting, teasing, or mocking.

but, you knew he left because you could hear the sound of his footsteps fading away once more.

you were quick to open the bathroom door when you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, a small pile of clothes (that were definitely too big) on the ground.

you practically slammed the door behind you after retrieving the clothes, terrified one of them would see you, whining when you noticed the size. this would definitely not fit. the boxers, at least.

it was nice of him to try to get smaller sizes for you, but god, he was huge. this wouldn’t fit anybody.

you decided that would be a problem for later you, and you should instead focus on showering before you used up of their hot water.

you stepped in, once again thankful for sukunas credit card buying you the shower supplies when your gaze turned to the mystical, definitely not safe, six in one bottle of shampoo and conditioner. what were the other four, you wondered…

as much as you’d love to keep these delicious strawberry scentened products, you thought you’d be doing them a favor by keeping them here. not only did sukuna pay for them, but they probably had some unknown chemicals creating a new disease in that six in one bottle. they’d have to suck up smelling like strawberries, you said to yourself as you made a mental note to throw out that bottle, maybe burn it. you’d be doing them a favor.

while you loved to take long showers, you were mindful of their water bill and only took as long as necessary (which was still long).

you stepped out, the bathroom was steamy, you weren’t visible in the mirror. you childishly drew a smiley face on the mirror, unable to resist with a giggle.

now, the problem.

the clothes.

you couldn’t even ask sukuna for a pair of his clothes, as he was just as big as toji. either way, they’d be falling off. but, it was better than used clothes, right?

you slipped the oversized t-shirt on, the material practically drowning you. it landed just above your mid thigh, making you look small in comparison.

while you disliked used clothes, you thought it would be best to throw your bra on under it. the neck of the shirt was so loose around you, if they were to look at you from a taller angle (which, they always are), you’d be flashing the poor men.

you however do NOT want to put back on your used panties. you didn’t know why, considering it was your pussy, but you disliked the idea of wearing the same pair of panties more than once without being washed. it was just one of those little things that grossed you out.

boxers were technically underwear, right? you thought to yourself, pulling the ridiculously large pair up. they barely clung to your hip, much to your dismay.

well, it would just be tonight. you thought, trying to wiggle them up higher, but they just kept falling down your waist and to your hips. at least the shirt covered you.

you stepped out of the bathroom, the overpowering scent of strawberries following you into the living room where both men sat on the couch.

“you smell nice,” sukuna spoke, his gaze immediately wandering to your toji’s clothes. you could see the faint envy in his eyes.

“thank you,” you said with a soft smile, “you can keep all that stuff. it smells nice and it’s way better than whatever that six in one concoction is..”

“are you saying that because you want us to keep it, or because you plan on coming here more often?”

the question sprung up by toji caught you off guard. once again, you couldn’t tell if he was flirting, teasing, or mocking. he always had that same somewhat malicious tone to his voice, but as you’ve come to know of sukuna, you think that’s just how he normally sounds- rather than being rude towards you.

“both…?” you decided to answer, a bit confused with both his question and your answer. you wouldn’t mind coming to see them more, they were nice, but you weren’t sure if toji meant it in a sexual way or not.

“then i suppose i can see you in my clothes often, too?”

oh, he was totally flirting.

it seems sukuna telling him off didn’t scare toji off for long, because here he was, shamelessly flirting with you infront of sukuna.

sukuna was definitely going to beat up toji.

sukuna, not wanting to scare you, decided to bring you to his room so he wouldn’t hear him and toji arguing. he made sure to let you know that you can sleep in his room, he’d just crash out on the couch. he said you were welcome to lock the door if you felt uncomfortable, god, he had too much trust in you for a guy you just met. you were going to protest, but he was quick to shut the door behind him. as usual.

you bit your lip, looking around his room. this was awkward, you thought. you didn’t want to be the reason the two were arguing.

you felt beyond guilty for even dragging sukuna into your own mess. you should’ve just dealt with gojo yourself, you shouldn’t have even accepted his offer to help.

was it sensitive of you to cry? maybe, but you were so pent up. you still haven’t properly accepted the fact that you just practically lost all your friends.

what you needed was a good cry, and thankfully for you, they were too busy arguing to hear your small, pitiful whimpers as you hugged yourself close, finally letting yourself go after having such a terrible day.

arguing over text when they were sitting right next to each other was a little funny. but when toji admitted he was also looking to an actual relationship with you, sukuna got angry. not even uraume could help them with this argument.

the two have never fought over a girl before, neither of them were the type to be in a committed relationship.

but now, it was different.

sukuna was sure toji was only claiming that because he hated when sukuna had something he didn’t.

the two argued that night, although both were mindful to keep it down so you wouldn’t hear. although, in the midst of their whisper-yelling, sukuna noticed the sound of your small sobs.

“shut up.” sukuna growled, glaring at toji as he turned to face his bedroom door. the sound of another sob alerted him that you were in fact crying.

“shit.” toji sighed, “you go check on her.”

sukuna was shocked toji was offering for him to do it, considering toji apparently liked you and everything. he gave toji a curt nod, making his way to his bedroom and knocking.

toji could hear sukuna say ‘can i come in?’ softly as he made his way to the bathroom, his gaze immediately shifting to your used clothes discarding on the sink.

toji heard the sound of sukunas door opening and closing, glancing over his shoulder every second to make sure neither of you were coming out.

he discreetly picked up your panties, a cute lacy pair with little pink bows on the side. he stuffed the cute thing in his pocket, swiftly returning to his room.

and that night, as sukuna comforted you and you cried about your misfortunate day, toji wrapped the pair of panties around his cock and thrusted to the sound of your cries.

he came fantasizing about how you would cry on his cock

sorry i got a little freaky there…

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iwaasfairy · 9 months ago

Text

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #tw.pseudocest #tw.grooming #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.dark content #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu yuuta

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literaryavenger · 4 months ago

Text

A concept that breaks my heart: imagine Bucky that eats like he doesn’t know where his next meal will be coming from because, for the longest time, he didn’t.

But nobody on the team knows because he never eats with them.

All it took was some absentminded comment from Sam the first time Bucky ate with him and Steve about how Bucky ate his hamburger in like 5 seconds. Sam didn’t really mean anything by it, he was just joking around, but Bucky got incredibly self-conscious about the way he eats and stopped eating in front of everybody, Steve included.

Every time the team was eating together, he’d say he wasn’t hungry or make up some excuse to get out of it but even if he couldn’t, he’d eat the bare minimum only to then sneak into the kitchen later when it was empty, make more food and then eat it in his room.

You yourself only joined the Avengers recently, so you’ve never seen Bucky during meals with the whole team.

But you don’t think too much of it, he always says he doesn’t need to eat as much which is a little weird because Steve is also a supersoldier and eats three times as much food as everybody else because of his faster metabolism, but Bucky’s serum was made by Hydra so, like everybody else, you just assume it allows him to operate with less need for sustenance which would make him a more efficient soldier.

But, being a person that likes to observe more than you like to talk, you start noticing small things about Bucky that no one else seems to.

It all started when he let a compliment slip about some cookies that you made for the team, which was weird because after the lunch where you all ate them as dessert, which Bucky was once again absent from, the rest of them disappeared from the kitchen less than an hour later. You assumed it was Sam, Steve, Clint and Thor since all of them always finish the things you bake, but clearly it was Bucky.

So, he does eat. You start noticing more and more Bucky sneaking around the Compound here and there and one day you can’t help but give into the curiosity and follow him to the kitchen where you see him making himself food and then sneak back to his room.

You don’t tell anybody though, or even bring it up with the man himself, instead you start saving food from meals so Bucky won’t have to make it himself and leave it out for him with notes so he’ll know they’re for him and nobody else will eat them.

It takes Bucky a little bit to figure out who’s doing it, but when he finds out it’s not Steve like he suspected but you, the pretty newbie that he’s barely even talked to since you joined, to say he’s surprised is an understatement.

But he can’t bring himself to confront you about it because he knows it’ll open up a whole can of worms about his eating habits and he’s too self-conscious about that to bring it up, so instead he starts leaving notes back every time he takes the food, addressed to you.

Now imagine this goes on for weeks, maybe months even, until one day Bucky builds up the courage to show up at one of the team meals and acts as casually as he can manage as he sits down and starts to eat. Nobody says anything or even acknowledges his unusual presence because, unbeknownst to Bucky, you’ve scolded everybody that tried to bring up Bucky’s eating habits over the last few months.

When you join the table after Bucky, as soon as you notice him all you do is grin and sit down before you start eating your own food. This is the first time Bucky’s ever actually seen you eat and his eyes widen when he sees you eat like a prisoner sentenced to death, but nobody else seems surprised or even that bothered. The entire team is used to it by now and they couldn’t care less, much to Bucky’s surprise.

“You… Always eat like that?” Bucky asks quietly before he can stop himself, worried about offending you the second the words leave his mouth.

But, once again, much to his surprise, you look up at him with a smile and nod unapologetically. “Yeah, my dad always used to say ‘Whatever you do, do it a hundred percent.’ That means when you work, work. When you laugh, laugh. And when you eat… Eat like it’s your last meal.”

Bucky looks at you with a blank expression for all of five seconds before his face breaks into a goofy grin. Not only did he already find you pretty and adorable, but after hearing you say that he thinks you’re the most attractive woman he’s ever known, even if you’re currently stuffing your face like there’s no tomorrow.

Imagine little by little Bucky starts feeling more and more comfortable eating around others, until eventually he joins every meal the team has together. And, when they’re all doing their own thing, he still asks you to have lunch or dinner with him and the two of you crackle at the other eating like a pig, not one hint of shame in either of you.

Anyway, just a thought.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sam wilson #steve rogers #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction

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jobean12-blog · 6 months ago

Text

It Had to Be You

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Summary: Your best friend is Tommy's girlfriend so naturally meeting Tommy's brother comes with the territory. He's gorgeous and you definitely want to get to know him better but it doesn't seem like that's in the cards. In fact, it seems like he'd rather be anywhere but near you so when Maria suggests a weekend away touring breweries and relaxing at a Bed and Breakfast with her Tommy and Joel, you're first thought is, "hell no!" But after some begging and pleading, Maria gets you to agree and Tommy wears down Joel, but what will the weekend bring? More grumpiness and exasperation or will you and Joel finally learn to get along.

Author's Note: This is for the lovely Kate's @burntheedges "Roll a Trope Challenge" I got #4- Enemies to Lovers. And I may have snuck another trope in there too haha! I sort of got carried away with it but it was fun to write and while I didn't focus as much on their first few meetings, I hope it comes across that they didn't get off to the best start but this little weekend away changes everything. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: grumpy Joel, teasing, tension (all the kinds), flirting, softness and fluff, a few curses, lots of meddling (in the best way), confessions, dry humping, smut (If I missed anything let me know)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

“No fuckin’ way Tommy.”

Joel shakes his head as he leans against the kitchen counter, coffee mug in hand.

Tommy stands across from him, exasperation etched across every feature.

“Come on big brother, you could really use the time away.”

“Not with her,” Joel retorts. “Why would you even bother asking? It’s not like we have the best track record. Shit…”

Tommy hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, and in that moment looking every part the mirror image of Joel.

“You won’t even think about it?” Tommy pleads.

“It’s too early for this bullshit. We have to get to work,” Joel grumbles in response.

“That wasn’t a no,” Tommy chimes back with a winning smile. “I’m gonna wear you down.”

Joel slams the door to his pickup and comes round the hood, pinning Tommy with a murderous glare.

“You’re never gonna shut the hell up are you?” Joel asks.

“Not until you say yes! What problem could you possibly have with brewery tours and beautiful scenery?”

Joel’s eyes narrow. “You know exactly what my problem is.”

“Well, you need to get over it. Give it time, get to know her better.”

“Get over it my ass,” Joel mutters, hands on his hips and jaw set in a firm line, as if that explains everything.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something unintelligible before he scoffs, “fine. But if things go to hell in a handbasket it’ll be all your doin’.”

Tommy let’s out a triumphant whoop and then pats Joel on the back, hard.

“See you tomorrow morning brother, bright and early!”

You stand outside the truck at the curb, watching as Tommy arranges the bags in the most efficient way possible. Your best friend enjoys the view of her boyfriends ass as he stays in a continuously bent over position.

“You know if you stare any harder his pants might disappear,” you joke as you poke Maria.

She giggles and smacks your arm but still doesn’t remove her eyes from Tommy’s backside.

“Actually,” you start, sliding your eyes over to Joel who’s inspecting the front end of the vehicle. “If Joel actually helped maybe we could get out of here faster.”

Dark brown eyes lift and meet yours with a look of disdain. “What was that sweetheart?”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you grunt. “Get your ass over here and help!”

“Is that what you’re doin’?” Joel asks as he saunters over, looking you up and down. “Or maybe you just wanna stare at my ass?”

He laughs when your face contorts into a look of disgust but still he walks over and starts to help Tommy.

“His ass is almost as nice as Tommy’s,” Maria whispers to you with lifted brows.

You intend to look away but now your focus has been drawn to exactly that-his ass- and it’s a fine one.

“Whatever,” you scoff and turn toward the door of the truck.

Tommy takes the wheel first with Maria in the front seat, leaving you and Joel squeezed into the back.

“Think you could save some room for the rest of us,” you mumble when you feel the press of Joel’s knee to your thigh.

His legs are spread wide, one lazy arm draped between while the other rests along the window’s edge.

He looks over at you, then down at his crotch.

“No,” he deadpans and spreads his legs wider, bumping you again.

“How soon until we reach the first brewery?” You ask Maria. “I’m going to need to be drunk this entire trip.”

That earns a laugh from everyone and when you look over at Joel you can see the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile.

After a rousing game of twenty questions, in which you and Joel argue through most of it, the banter quiets and Tommy puts on the radio. You can feel yourself nodding off, your body slowly sinking closer to Joel, but you fight it, consistently trying to peel your eyes open and lean toward the window.

The first thing you feel is the cool air on your face and then the slowing of the van. You inhale sharply and stiffen as you come back to consciousness.

“Shit,” you murmur and rub a hand over your face.

With a stretch you extend your arms, bumping Joel’s chest.

“Shit,” you say again, but louder, realizing you were nestled up against him.

He blinks at you several times then looks down at where you’re still resting along the side of him, warm and firm.

“Did I fall asleep on you?” you ask him.

He shrugs indifferently. “I guess I was asleep too.”

You continue to stare but don’t move away from him.

“Need another nap?” he asks with a smirk.

You blow a raspberry and sit up. “You wish.”

He shakes his head and opens the door, giving Tommy a “told you so” look before saying loud enough for your to hear, “I need a beer the size of my head. Now.”

After touring the first brewery and trying several different beers you’re feeling much more relaxed but hungry.

“When are we stopping to eat?” you ask.

Tommy smiles over his beer and looks at Maria.

“Well,” Maria starts. “There’s this local place just a mile or two away that the owner of the brewery said is great.”

“Perfect,” you say, “let’s go!”

Joel makes a grumbling sound from behind you, and you turn with a spin, pinning him with a look.

“Problem?” you ask.

“Maybe I’m not done tryin’ beers.”

You cross your arms over your chest and for a second you think you see his eyes drop to your cleavage but just as quickly as it happens his dark eyes are back on yours, narrowing.

“The tour is over,” you state. “I think everyone is hungry.”

“Or just you?” he asks.

“Actually, I’m starving,” Tommy says with a bright smile.

Joel just grunts out a curse in Tommy’s direction and brushes past you.

“You know,” you whisper, falling in line next to Tommy and Maria, “you’d think he’d loosen up with some drinks.”

Tommy puts a warm arm around your shoulder and just laughs.

Sitting on the crooked bar stools, you and Maria watch Tommy and Joel play darts.

“You practically have heart eyes,” you tell her. “I love it.”

She laughs and takes a sip of her drink. “He’s just…”

“I know,” you finish for her. “He’s a great guy.”

“You know Joel is too right?” she adds. “He’s just a little rougher around the edges.”

“Something like that,” you mutter. “I wish I knew why he hated me.”

“He does NOT hate you,” Maria says adamantly. “In fact, I bet it’s the exact opposite, but he has no idea how to handle it. He hasn’t dated in like forever.”

“I can’t imagine why…” you say wryly.

Maria laughs and smacks your arm. “You deserve a good guy, you know.”

“Like Tommy,” you smile.

“Like Joel.”

As if sensing the weight of your attention, both Joel and Tommy turn toward you and catch you smiling. Tommy saunters over and takes Maria in his arms. Joel follows, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Darts?” he asks when Maria and Tommy start whispering.

“Ok,” you say and slide off the stool.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doin’ sweetheart?” Joel asks as he watches you line up a shot.

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you grit out. “And second of all, yes…maybe.”

Joel laughs and steps closer, gently taking your wrist and giving you a second to pull away. When you don’t he repositions your arm and fixes your fingers.

“There, try that,” he says, his breath warm against your ear. “And I only call you that because you’re so sweet.”

At that, you throw your head back and laugh. “In your dreams maybe and to everyone else but you.”

“Of course,” he says with a shake of his head.

You throw your shot, hitting close to the bullseye and let out a cheer.

“You’re welcome,” he says before grabbing a dart and throwing it right in the middle of the bullseye.

“You suck,” you say.

“Obviously,” he answers with a grin.

Tommy comes over to let you know the food is ready and you go sit down to eat. The food revives everyone and when your bellies are full you sit back and enjoy the stories Tommy and Joel share of their childhood and teenage shenanigans.

Joel’s eyes are warm, and his smile is bright and every so often you catch him staring.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out.

“So do I,” Maria says, following you out of the booth.

Once you’re in the safety of the bathroom, she corners you and asks, “so?”

“So…what?” you shoot back.

“Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you say. “The beer is great and I’m happy I get to hang with you guys.”

“Even Joel?”

You pause.

“He’s not sooo bad I guess.”

“Try to let go of those past experiences, he’s not always so grumpy and…” Maria trails off pointedly.

“Unapproachable?” you finish for her. “He barely said hello to me,” you continue, practically shouting. “And every time I tried to talk to him he looked like he wanted to puke!”

“Maybe he was nervous?” Maria muses.

“Why the hell would he be?” you say with a face. “Then I call him out on being a grumpy ass and he get’s all mad.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re giving him another shot,” she says with a laugh. “A new start.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you reply.

“Hey, at least enjoy his fine ass for the weekend.”

You let out a giggle and practically push her out the door of the bathroom. As you approach your table you realize that Tommy has moved his seat and now you either have to sit next to him, which you can’t because Maria quickly slips into the spot, or next to Joel.

Joel looks at you then down at his beer, twirling the glass mindlessly between his fingers. He then grabs the pitcher and pours you a glass, sliding it down next to his.

You sit and grab it, taking a long sip.

“Are you just trying to get me drunk, hoping I’ll be sweeter?”

“Will it work?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.

“Guess we’ll find out,” you laugh.

He lifts his glass to yours with a clink.

You glance over at Tommy and Maria, cuddled close and whispering. When your eyes swing back to Joel his gaze drops to your mouth, but he seems to remember himself and sits up straighter.

“Talk to me,” you say and try to keep your tone light. “I’ve been trying to get you to talk for months.”

He gives you a sheepish look.

“Give me a topic,” he counters.

You lean back against the booth and think.

“Not work,” you say, “I hear enough about that from Tommy.”

“Yeah no work talk,” he agrees.

“Making fun of Tommy won’t get us far into getting to now each other.”

Joel laughs, the action making his eyes crinkle attractively at the corners.

“As much as I love doing that you’re right.”

“Ok,” you say, turning toward him and leaning a little closer. “Girlfriend?”

He startles and his eyes go wide.

“Are you asking if I have one?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say.

His smile is a tiny tilt of his mouth.

“No,” he says quietly and looks down, picking at something on his jeans. “No girlfriend.”

“And why not?” you ask, taking a sip of your beer and watching him over the rim.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your features, then shrugs.

“I guess I’m just picky…”

“And grumpy?” you add but not without a smile and playful tone.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Sometimes I can be I guess and…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and instead finishes off his beer.

“And?” you say, waiting patiently.

“And. Well, it’s been a while since I’d had a beautiful woman pay any attention to me. I’m out of practice.”

His admission is endearing, and you warm at his compliment.

“I’m sure there are plenty of beautiful women who want to talk to you. You just don’t give off the ‘come talk to me’ vibes.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says with a dry laugh.

“You’re doing just fine now though,” you add.

He smiles gratefully and you continue talking about everything and nothing for the next hour. The conversation flows easily and you’re not sure if it’s the beer or just the fact that you’ve both let down your defenses but you’re enjoying his company.

You’re focused on his lips as he parts them to answer your ‘what’s your favorite book’ question but suddenly a shrill sound goes off, echoing through the restaurant and making you cover your ears.

Joel immediately takes your hand and nudges you out of the booth, calmly exiting the restaurant via the indicated fire escape route.

Once you’re outside his hand stays firm around yours as he leads you away from the building and the blaring noise. The waiters came out to assure everyone that it’s only a small kitchen fire, and everything is fine.

You finally find Tommy and Maria, their eyes immediately landing on your hand in Joel’s. The two of you separate like children caught doing something naughty and put some space between your bodies.

“It’s a good thing I was done eatin’,” Tommy jokes.

Turns out, the escape route took you to the back of the restaurant, at the top of a hill overlooking the mountains. The sun has already set but the lights from the restaurant illuminate enough of the grounds for you to see it’s beautiful and lush.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to a structure at the far edge of the fences.

“Maybe outdoor seating?” Joel says. “Would be a nice view.”

“I bet it’s just storage,” Maria says.

“Boring!” you huff. “I want to go see.”

“I don’t know if…” Joel starts, but you sprint off before he can finish the thought.

Before you get to the structure you hear steady footfalls behind you and then Joel is there, slowing to a walk next to you and giving you a bewildered look.

You smile and step closer, realizing that Maria was in fact right, it’s just a building used for storage or something like that.

“Totally boring,” you say. “I knew it.”

Joel stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you ask.

“Darlin’,” he tsks. “You can’t just…”

He stops and runs a hand through his hair. “You can’t just run off into the dark.”

“Did you just call…,” you trail off, deciding not to finish the thought, and start over with, “then why did you follow me.”

He looks at you like you just asked him the dumbest question. “I couldn’t just let you run off alone.”

“How chivalrous of you Joel.”

With a lopsided smile he reaches out his hand, entwining his warm fingers with yours to lead you back toward the group.

“Well?” Tommy asks with a knowing smirk.

“Just storage,” you answer, “Maria wins.”

Maria lets out a small victory cheer before snuggling against Tommy with sleep eyes.

“Everyone ready to head to the inn?” Tommy asks, stifling a yawn.

With nods of agreement, you start to head back to the restaurant to pay your bill, your hand still tucked warmly in Joel’s.

“It looks like you and Joel are actually getting along?” Tommy says, or rather, asks with raised brows.

Your eyes shift to Joel who’s standing outside the car pumping gas, a pit stop you had to make before getting to the inn. He’s staring up at the sky as you study his profile, and you keep your eyes on him even as you answer Tommy.

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah? Or yeah,” Tommy says.

“Well, we’re definitely doing better than the last few times,” you say with a laugh. “At least now he talks more and smiles.”

Tommy sighs and looks at his brother through the window.

“He hasn’t done this in…well it seems like forever, so…”

“He mentioned that” you say quietly. “I get it. It’s not like my last relationship was any good.”

Tommy’s eyes turn to you. “I hated that guy. I still wanna punch him in his stupid face.”

“Me too,” you agree with huff.

Joel secures the nozzle back onto the latch and opens the door, looking between both you and Tommy as you stare at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Did you get any snacks from the store?” you shoot back quickly.

“Did you want something?” Joel asks.

“Yeah actually. I think I do. I’m gonna go in to get something and find Maria.”

Joel holds the door open for you and watches until you get inside the store before sliding into the front seat next to Tommy.

“So,” Tommy says, and Joel pins him with an unamused stare.

“Am I about to hear the same thing she did?” Joel ask as he points his finger toward the store, gesturing to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tommy says with a smile. “But if you want to talk I’m all ears.”

Joel purses his lips and looks forward out the front windshield. After a few moments of silence he says, “I like her. I have since the first time we met.”

“I know,” Tommy answers.

Joel’s head whips around.

“You know?”

“Yeah, of course big brother. I knew why you could never get your shit together in front of her. It was obvious.”

“Obvious?” Joel repeats, his jaw tight.

“Look…she’s a beautiful woman and she showed interested in you. You couldn’t handle it.”

Joel remains silent, his breathing even until he sighs heavily and mutters, “yeah.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s still interested now that she sees you’re not a total ass,” Tommy adds with a lopsided smirk.

Joel lets out a puff of air and shakes his head. “Thanks for the boost of confidence.”

You’re standing behind Maria and Tommy as they check into the Bed and Breakfast, every so often stealing glances at Joel and catching him doing the same.

“So, you only have two rooms available now?” you hear Maria ask.

You perk up at that and start to move closer to the desk. Maria turns to you and Joel to explain.

“There was a leak in one of the rooms we had on hold, and it won’t be fixed until Monday so now they only have two available…but I’ll just stay with you and Tommy and Joel can share the other room,” she says.

It takes you a minute to fully process the situation but when the realization hits that Tommy and Maria won’t have their own room and won’t get to enjoy their getaway to the full extent you offer up a different plan.

“Listen, I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this little vacation and I don’t want any of it to get spoiled so Joel and I can share a room, if that’s ok with him, and I’ll just sleep on a cot or pull out.”

“You mean I will darlin.’ You take the bed.”

Tommy and Maria stare at the two of you with matching shocked expressions.

“Are you sure?” Maria asks, pulling you aside. “I mean when I told you Joel was coming you almost cancelled on me.”

“That was before. He’s been a lot nicer and more talkative now and I think we understand each other better. Besides…I don’t want you to miss out on your time with Tommy.”

You waggle your eyebrows suggestively and she giggles. “But are you sure you’re comfortable.”

You peek over at Joel, who’s talking to Tommy in the same hushed voice you’re speaking to Maria. “Yeah. I’m sure. I feel completely safe with him. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get grumpy.”

Once the rooms are settled you split up and head to your respective spaces. Joel opens the door to the spacious but quaint room, and you instantly notice the one bed in the center.

You plop down your bag and start to search for your toiletries. With necessities in hand, you walk into the bathroom and let out a squeal of excitement. Joel rushes in, practically bumping into you.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Look at the tub!” you say, doing a little happy dance. “It has feet!”

“Feet?” he responds, his voice trailing off.

“I can’t wait to use it!”

When he doesn’t respond you turn to face him and find him with his hand halfway through his mussed hair and his cheeks pink.

“You ok?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “Is it too warm in here?”

“Huh? Uh no, no. I’m fine. Are you um…are you going to use the tub now?”

“I think I’m too tired tonight, but definitely tomorrow!”

He just nods and excuses himself from the bathroom while you finish washing up. When you come out you see Joel by the door, checking the lock before he shuts it with a heavy click.

The moment feels loaded and when he turns and looks at you then the bed, you blurt out, “I really don’t mind sleeping on the pull out or the love seat. I’ve slept on worse.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Nah darlin.’ I don’t want you to do that, I can manage just fine, even on the floor.”

“Don’t be silly,” you answer, grabbing your bag and pulling out your pajamas. “It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine.”

You smile at him, hoping it looks reassuring and then say, “I’m just going to change.”

“Bathroom’s all yours,” you tell him when you come out.

He stares at you, letting his eyes run slowly down your body before they stop back at your face.

“Yeah. Thanks…”

He walks in with a clean shirt and nothing else and you wonder what the hell he usually sleeps in. He finally emerges from the bathroom, wearing the new tee shirt and his jeans.

“You’re going to sleep in your jeans?” you ask.

He looks up at you in surprise. “I mean, I usually don’t, but…”

“Just be comfortable ok?” you tell him.

“You look comfortable,” he murmurs, almost breathlessly. “Actually, what I mean is…you look, beautiful.”

“In my pajamas?” you giggle.

“Yeah and all the time.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly. “And I’m sure you look beautiful in whatever you wear to bed, so you know…just go for it.”

Hoping to go for nonchalance you smile warmly and then hop on the bed, grabbing your book and trying to give him some space to think.

After what feels like forever you notice movement out of the corner of your eye and realize he’s pulling off his jeans. Your skin heats and you try to keep your eyes on the page, but you can’t stop yourself from sliding a glance sideways to check out his ass in his boxer briefs.

He sits on the bed, and you quickly avert your eyes.

“Hope this is ok?” he says, with more of a questioning tone.

“Totally fine,” you answer, pretending to focus on the book.

As he shifts on the bed it bounces and squeaks and you try and hold in your laughter, but he hears you and starts to make his movements wilder. You fall over and into him, swatting at him with your hand.

He catches your wrist and runs his thumb across your hammering pulse, then presses it just over where his heart beats rapidly beneath his chest.

His expression shifts away from the playful smile, and he suddenly seems so unguarded. He continues to stare, the meaning in his eyes growing clearer the more your eyes hold.

“You ok?” he asks.

“More than ok,” you answer.

He pulls back the covers and grabs the remote to the TV. You both scoot under, arranging yourselves comfortably but without touching. But then, slowly, your bodies shift closer and his leg presses to yours, the soft slide of his leg hair against your thigh.

With a smile he reaches around you and pulls you to his side until your head rests on his shoulder.

“I must be comfortable with the way you fell asleep on me in the truck,” he teases.

“You are. I just didn’t want to admit it then.”

You feel his laughter and snuggle closer, resting a soft hand on his chest. At first, his fingers rest lightly on your bare shoulder but slowly they start to move, drawing small circles over your skin.

The feel of his calloused fingertips draws all your attention away from everything else and all you can think about his touch, his warmth, and the smell of him, clean but with the faint scent of his skin beneath.

Carefully, you slide one leg over his and press your face into his neck. You sense his breath hitch, but his fingers never stop exploring your skin, and finally he lets out a long and controlled exhale.

Your body is thrumming with tension and anticipation, so you focus on your breathing. In. Out. Slow and steady. Your eyes drift closed, and you give in to the drowsy relief.

When you wake, you’re flushed with the memory of his fingers on your skin and his warm mouth working it’s way down your neck.

But it’s not a memory.

Joel’s there, curled on his side and pressed against you from behind, his mouth moving from your ear and down your neck.

You make a quiet noise of surprise, pressing back into him and feeling him hard and ready against your ass. At the contact he groans and grinds his hips in a slow, pressing rhythm.

“Hey,” you whisper.

His teeth nip at your pulse point, and you whimper.

“Hey,” he answers.

You reach your hand back and slide your fingers through his hair to hold his face at your neck. He tugs the strap of your tank top down and follows the soft curve of your shoulder with his lips.

“I woke you,” he says, brushing his lips over your skin. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses, lips still hovering at your neck. “No. I’m not sorry.”

Turning in his arms, you lean in and let your nose brush his, lightly, until you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.

His kiss is hungry, his mouth demanding as he slides his hands up your top and rolls over onto you. His moans vibrate against your kiss and your arms circle his shoulders, fingers delving back into his hair, and he rocks between your spread legs.

His sharp inhales and exhales fill the tiny space between you and every time he touches another inch of your skin he lets out a sharp grunt or moan, sending you reeling.

Bending, he slides your tank up over your breasts and dips his head to lick them, fill his hands with them, before returning his lips to your mouth with renewed need. Your body responds to the rhythm he sets, the hard press of him just where you want it, and when you arch into him, rocking your hips and working your body in tandem with his, he hisses out, “fuck darlin.’ Please.”

Each point of contact between you carries an electric current and he speeds up, breathlessly close and whispering your name with parted lips.

Your movements become erratic, gripping his ass, pulling him harder against you, the thin, silky material of your panties wet and slippery.

“Joel,” you whine and bring his lips to yours again.

He swallows your moans and grinds into you, the heat of his body scorching every inch of your skin until you come with a cry of his name, his own relieved sounds following just after and his release spilling onto your stomach.

His mouth presses to your neck, soft and slow, until he sits up on his elbows.

The darkness subsides as your eyes adjust, and with the slight bleed of light from under the doorway and through the curtains of the window, you can tell he’s staring down at you, gauging.

His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb sweeping just under your eye before he leans in for a tender kiss.

“I meant to take this slower sweetheart but…”

The sweetness in his voice laces around your heart and you kiss him to stop his words and show him it’s more than ok. That you’ll take whatever he’s willing to give.

“You’re covered in me,” he whispers.

“I don’t mind,” you say as you curl a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“We could take that bath now…if you want.”

“We?” you ask, smiling against his lips. “You’re dangerous Joel Miller.”

“Me?” he asks innocently. “You’re the one who had me thinking of you naked in that tub all night.”

“And I can’t wait to try it out…”

You shove on his chest until he rolls off you and discard your clothing as you walk into the bathroom.

“Fuck me,” you hear him murmur from behind you.

“That’s the plan,” you say over your shoulder before you turn on the faucet.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @tripletstephaniescp

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #tommy miller #enemies to lovers #there was only one bed #roll a trope challenge #fic writing challenge #rollatropechallenge

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lovelyhan · 1 year ago

Text

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is.

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office.

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?”

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money.

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed.

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?”

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?”

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition.

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable.

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain.

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things.

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her.

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year.

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help.

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do.

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage.

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him.

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner.

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have.

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention.

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time.

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people.

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work.

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude.

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored.

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so.

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon.

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent.

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then.

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh.

“I want revenge.”

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines.

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl.

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to.

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing.

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo.

From: Wonwoo Jeon Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife. The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away. Regards, Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success.

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints.

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after.

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.”

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse.

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer.

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen.

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama.

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands.

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again.

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered.

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?”

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.”

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on.

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious.

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk.

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness.

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene.

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?”

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job.

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?”

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow.

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital.

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange.

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane.

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days?

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change.

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers.

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him.

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?”

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further.

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?”

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved.

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable.

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time.

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place.

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?”

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice.

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual.

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact.

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away.

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements.

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars.

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen.

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one.

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in.

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again.

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life.

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer.

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings.

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away.

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion.

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence.

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?”

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car.

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals.

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe.

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples.

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts.

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.”

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.”

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all.

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!”

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in.

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium.

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma.

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido.

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.”

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work.

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards,

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚#wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

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tootiecakes234 · 1 year ago

Text

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It��s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕

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luveline · 11 months ago

Note

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.”

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could.

“You’re not saying hi anymore?”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before you took it at the hospital, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.”

He looks up tentatively. “You have?”

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.”

“Why?” Spencer asks.

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.”

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.”

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.”

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone.

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks.

“What are you enjoying lately?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.”

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse.

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail.

“Hug?” you ask hopefully.

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear.

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly.

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second.

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?”

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.”

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?”

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him.

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger.

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.”

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.”

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.”

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases.

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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athenamikaelson · 6 months ago

Text

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending

“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”

I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?

It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak.

Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.

Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket.

I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me.

“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.

“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.

I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”

Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.

“Really Stefana, I’m good.”

Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it.

I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”

Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be.

After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way.

“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered.

At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up. It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it.

“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.

“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time.

“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”

I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room.

“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”

“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment.

I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me.

“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me.

“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.

Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong.

We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”

I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”

Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”

Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”

This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”

I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”

Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions.

“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”

At the sound of footsteps, I stand up.

“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”

Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.

“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”

I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.

“Ya whatever, Demon.”

—

It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.

Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them.

“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else.

“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.

“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.

“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks.

Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it, he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life.

“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline.

Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.

I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”

They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”

I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”

“You knew?!’’

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bro!”

They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”

“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”

They think about this for a moment before nodding.

“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.

“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”

We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.

I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”

I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”

Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years.

Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention.

He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look.

“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.

“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?”

Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”

—

“There he is!”

I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution.

“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.

“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight.

After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.

Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.

“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon.

I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm.

“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear.

A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest.

“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.

I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.

“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”

Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort.

“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.

“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.

“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes.

Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human.

Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”

“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now.

“I’m helping him.”

I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.

“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder.

“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”

“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.

“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.

“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.

—-

Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”

“What? What is it,” Ric asks.

“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”

I shake my head in denial.

“Well, they have to.”

Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”

“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”

Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.

“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”

Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew.

I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open.

I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy.

“Y/N?”

I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers.

“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”

—

“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder.

Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy.

“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”

I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.”

The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”

I nod and thank him.

“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”

My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”

The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves.

Great who the hell is going to drive me home?

—

I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily.

At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.

“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.

“Is everything ok,” I question.

The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle.

“Please… what are you talking about?”

The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”

My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.

“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”

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