#omg i slept for once and had a vivid dream

[the-bite-of-87-lol]

Had a dream ; Rant below cut ; boombox ow mentioned

Tw ; for guns mention and death

I don't remember the start too well, sometimes this happens or this part is reoccurring where we're in like Tumblr headquarters and there's this bunker area so we enter there but that's after a certain part!!

Part 1 ; Testing the eaters of the dream ( I call it ) I'm Echo, and there's talon, I don't remember this segment much, but we die in the end.

Part 2 ; Frogs and Rats

Lucio and Junkrat, they're running away from talon.

I like the idea that talon is after junkrat, and this dream expands on it to an unnecessary degree.

Talon is after junkrat, they need him and will not give him up, I'm not entirely sure about the setting, but it's Tumblr headquarters bunker at first, we go down the stairs (I'm myself then rat, I switch povs), when we go upstairs Talon appears, I don't remember in-between scenes very well, there was a lot of running with lucio, also Tumblr bunker had a corner between two couches with as bunch of stuffies there was a lot of going there for safety or something.

Part 3 ; Invasion

We run from talon, they're fucking adamant. There's in-between stuff I don't remember, but the place is all hallways, there's a lot of fighting, and null sector invasion, lots of heavy artillery deployed though, and another? Not entirely sure but another type of null sector was deployed, it had teeth, it was huge, ravenous, and it was dangerous. (For some reason rat didn't have any weapons on him in the dream btw) it chased us down, there were a lot of stealth segments !! I was also Tracer for these bits (idk why or how or where), she pretty much left after this bit, more heavy artillery deployed later.

Part 4 ; Hallways.

We run and end up in a dead end, there was a fight between reaper or Sombra (don't remember), Junkrat got knocked out at some point. (I'm myself for this section, I think), and Lucio is shot between the eyes. In this, there isn't exactly respawn. Anyways, Lucio gets a bullet between the eyes, and reaper leaves or something.

Junkrat wakes up from being knocked out, Lucio hasn't died yet, he sings a little too calm himself before the inevitable, he asks to be with Junkrat for his last moments, for some reason rat wakes up pissed off at him, and then music starts playing through the hallway, Lucio comments on it, rat doesn't move at first, hes kinda pissed (for some reason), lucio comments on the hallway again.

Part 5 ; Safety

I pull junkrat to the tumblr bunker thing via a shortcut

We went to the corner between the couches to hide, also my friend appeared for this last bit, and none of us really had a ride home or a way home?? I offer my friend to stay the night but they decline, understandably. Junk feels like shit, and Lucio is dead.

And that's pretty much how it ended

I'm not sure what the hallway thing was for or about, it ended when we hid in that corner again

Also I'm gonna talk about the first part

I was echo and talon (opposing team??) was after us, me and another talon group but was just mirrored to the opposing team (yknow like team v team in normal overwatch, except echo was added to my group), it ended with us dying because that null sector with the sharp teeth (metal pieces that'd rip you to shreds), I want to mention echo temporarily teleported to another dimension like in a video game before the actual shit started happening, we started in Hollywood set-esque and made our way to route 66 because echo (me) hid in one of the train cars, obv she was caught and ended up dying, but thats that part

Anyways that's all

[novamirmirsblog]

Hush little baby don't say a word

Somnophilia

Genre: smut

Request: no

Word count: 2002

Warnings: spitting, choking, dub-con, somnophilia

Summary: Cersei likes it better when you’re asleep.

A/N: OMG I KILLED A MOSQUITO WHILE WRITING THIS! I wrote it on the 9th at like 23:00 (once a procrastinator always a procrastinator) with all the lights off (cause im supposed to be sleeping) and i manage to hit the lil annoying buzzer and it falls onto my laptop and i SLAM that shut! Btw i wrote this an before even finishing the fic XD 

Kinktober masterlist | Main masterlist

Cersei had been planning this for months. When she first began this endeavour, she wondered if milk of the poppy would be useful. She had used it on Robert once when he insisted on bedding her but decided against using it on you. She wanted the risk, the danger of you potentially waking up at any moment. To begin with, it had started slow, a casual touch here, a brush of a hand there. Cersei carefully built up your tolerance to her flesh on yours until you came to expect it, to almost crave it. She liked the way you leaned towards her when you poured her wine, or when your fingers lingered for too long in her hair after brushing it. She liked to watch you in the mirror, eyes slightly glazed as you absentmindedly fingered through her hair. 

When you had first arrived in Cersei’s service, she felt nothing more than a slight curiosity towards you yet the longer you stayed with her, the more obsessive she became. While it wasn’t uncommon for women of high status to have a lady-in-waiting stay in their bed-chambers, Cersei had never had one in such an intimate space. Not since she was a little girl afraid of the monsters in the dark. 

That all changed when she heard some of the guards talking about how fuckable you were. 

Not only did Cersei have them killed, but you were now to spend every moment with her. You didn’t mind, not considering that it was a promotion. You were lowborn, never destined for anything more than cleaning chamber pots and drawing baths. When you were promoted to Cersei’s lady-in-waiting, hushed whispers echoed throughout Kings Landing. That privilege was reserved for highborns, not someone like you. 

You didn’t mind sharing a bed with Cersei, if anything you preferred it. You had shared a bed with your three sisters from the time they had been born until you left for Kings Landing. There was something comforting about hearing the sounds of another person breathing. You had always been a vivid dreamer, able to describe your dreams in such detail you often wondered if they were actually memories. Since staying with Cersei, your dreams had taken on more… adult… content. Where before you saw her casual touches as friendly, you now found yourself reading into them. Wanting them to mean more. 

Cersei remembers the night when her thoughts became more sinister as clear as day. It had been a week since you had started staying with her and it had been a week since she had slept properly. She would feign a peaceful sleep until she heard your breaths deepen and even out; then her eyes would snap open and she would watch you like a predator in the dark. On that particular night, you had been moving more than usual. At first, Cersei thought you were having a nightmare and reached over to wake you but when you let out a whimper and arched into her touch, she realised just how wrong she was. She looked at you closer, at your reddining face, furrowed brows and light sheen on your body. Her fingers lingered, ghosting over your forearm, causing the hairs on your arm to raise. You grunted and rolled towards her, causing Cersei to jump slightly and pull her hand away. She bit her lip and smiled, her eyes darkening as she imagined being the cause of your wet dream. Her smile dropped as quickly as it arrived when a nasty thought entered her head. She's probably dreaming about some stable boy. 

Cercei slapped you hard and you awoke with a jolt, you sat up sharply, cupping your hand to your face as you looked around, your sleep-addled brain struggling to catch up. 

“What? What’s happening?” 

“My sweet mouse, you were having a nightmare.” Cersei soothed you, running her hands through your hair and bringing your head to her chest. “I tried to wake you.”

You craned your neck to look up at her, her expression almost dared you to challenge her but you trusted her. Why else would she have hit you? Besides, her believing you were having a nightmare was much less embarrassing than her finding out that you were having a sex dream. A sex dream about her no less. You also couldn’t help but enjoy the tingle left behind by her slap.

“Thank you. Sorry your grace, I didn’t mean to disturb your own sleep.”

“It is quite alright.” Cersei pauses for a moment “Sometimes I find it helpful to talk through the dream.”

You blushed, still slightly groggy and in no way up to elaborate lying “I-I can’t really remember your grace.” 

“Shall I get you milk of the poppy? It would aid your sleep.”

“Thank you your grace but there’s no need. I tried it once before and it gave me no dreams at all. I would rather have…unpleasant dreams than none at all.”

“Well if you won’t share your nightmares or take poppy milk, then I suggest we try to sleep. I have council meetings tomorrow and I need to be well rested.”

“Of course your grace. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Y/n.”

~~~~~

From that night onwards, Cersei was addicted. She craved you like a drug and it only got worse once you were asleep. Seeing your peaceful face, so trustingly restful. She would trace her fingers over your nose, your eyebrows, along your lips, down the column of your throat and between your breasts. Her fingers went where she wanted her mouth to go. One night, she decided to be brave. She was a lion and lions were afraid of nothing. So she flicked her thumb quickly over your nipple. She did it so quickly she wondered if she had done it at all. That thought prompted her to go back, to gently roll it between her fingers over your nightgown. Your lips parted in with a needy sigh and Cersei bit back a growl. Her favourite thing to do was see how far she could push your body before it sent signals to wake you up. Turns out it only took a few weeks of Cercei training you for her to be able to slip a finger into your wet hole. The taste of you was so delicious that she got herself off with your essence on her tongue and her fingers shoved into her cunt. She gently opened your mouth and wiped her fingers clean on your tongue after that endeavour. It almost made her cum again to see you swallow what she put in your mouth. 

You were going to be such a good little slut.

One night, Cersei decided she wanted to take things further. She wanted to wake you up. She wanted to watch your eyes roll back and tears leak out she fucked you hard into the mattress. She wanted to put your pretty little tongue to good use and cum on your face as you struggled to breathe. This new, reckless desire had absolutely nothing to do with Ellaria Sand looking at you a little too closely. 

Cersei started how she always did, with tracing over your features. She enjoyed the method of it, the order each of the stages were completed. She liked watching your body get more and more needy. Today, however, she rested over your hips. She held herself over you, not prepared to let you feel her weight just yet but she wanted you to feel her presence. Once her fingers had finished tracing their intricate map across your skin, she let her mouth follow. Cersei let her lips and tongue trace over where her fingers had been and once she reached your breasts, she undid the lacing keeping your nightgown together. She felt her mouth water at the sight and wanted nothing more than to bite down on your pillowy flesh but she refrained. 

Not yet she whispered to herself. No, instead of satiating her needs, she reached back and slipped a finger over your entrance. Your hips bucked unconsciously, rubbing against her cunt and causing a moan to slip out. She stilled instantly. She didn’t want you to wake yet. Once satisfied you weren’t going to wake, she continued gently running her finger around your tight hole, gathering your wetness. She gently hovered over your pubic bone, she was sure you could feel her heat radiate onto you yet still you didn’t stir. Cersei’s cunt throbbed and clenched at the thought of you knowing she’s doing this to you. She ran her finger higher up and shivers when she hears you whimper. She found your clit. She gently applies a little more pressure and smirks when your hips twitch once again. She begins to grind down on you, wanting to get off using you whether you knew it was happening or not. 

Her hips jerk to a stop.

She’s getting ahead of herself.

She needs to slow it down again so she returns to your breasts, licking your nipples till they turn into rock-hard pebbles. Cercei leans back to admire her work. You're a panting mess and she hasn't even touched you properly. 

Cersei slides down your body till she’s got your pussy in her line of sight. She gently spreads your legs open, running her nails along the insides of your thighs. She settles between them and watches with baited breath as your cunt pulses. She lets out a quiet chuckle and the puff of air makes it clench harder. Finally finally Cersei decides to indulge herself. She presses her tongue flat against you and your hips twitch once again. She licks as her nose bumps into your clit, her teeth lightly grazing your swollen bud before she goes back down to where she really wants to be. She briefly looks up at your face to see her handiwork. She puts more pressure on your clit, licking faster and harder as she hears your breathing get louder and heavier, your natural rhythm she had become accustomed to was gone. She feels your thighs clench around her head and fingers wrap in her hair as a loud moan escapes your lips.Cersei sees you looking down at her, your eyes glazed as you try to work out what just happened. 

“Cersei?”

“Oh little mouse” Cersei cooed “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

She moved up from where she was resting between your legs and squeezed your jaw so you would open it. 

“Swallow” she purred, before spitting in your mouth. 

You did as she said and watched as her eyes darkened. 

“Stay still.” 

You did as you were told, refraining from reaching up and touching where you desperately wanted to touch. Cersei rocked back and forth over your cunt, her juices mixed with your own until the room was filled with lewd sounds. Cersei leaned forward, getting a better angle and wrapped her hand around your throat. You felt your breathing get shallow as she began to grind on you harder. 

“Open.” 

You did as you were told and even stuck your tongue out. You watched as Cersei gently let spit drip down her lips and into your mouth. Once again, you swallowed.

“Good girl.” She rasps out as she comes. You come too, her words affecting you more than you thought they could. 

Once you had both come down a little Cersei rolled off you and looked at you with a sinister glint in her eye.

“I’m going to fuck you properly in ways you wished your precious stable boy fucked you.” Cersei growled and you shook your head in confusion.

“What stable boy?”

“Don’t act dumb I’ve seen you with him.” She grabs your pussy and you gasp “This is mine now. No one else gets to touch it ever again.”

“I’m a virgin, Cersei. There is no stable boy.”

You watch as her features soften slightly before returning to their hard edge “I’m your first?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m also your last.”

[veilder]

"I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" - Convin

Okay, so, I love this prompt and I promised I'd try to write it so... I actually did this last week at like 2 am and have been too busy to edit it until now. But I'm kinda sick of trying to puzzle it out so just take it please, omg.

(Prompt from this post if anyone's curious.)

Stay

The sun was already high in the sky when Gavin finally blinked awake. He could tell because there was one fuckin sliver of window he could never manage to cover with the blackout curtains hanging up in his bedroom and the goddamn sun was shining right in his fuckin eyes, Jesus Christ! With a groan, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to go back to sleep. But even that small burst of cognizance had its consequences. Gavin could feel the awareness creeping in fast, God fuckin dammit. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask for? But there was something... Something niggling at the back of his mind. It itched at instincts well-honed by over a decade on the force and not even his most earnest desire to return to oblivion could keep it at bay. Restlessly, Gavin huffed out a disgruntled sigh as he kicked at the covers, frustrated despite himself at being roused after the night he’d had— Like a shock passing through his body, Gavin’s eyes snapped open, memories of the previous evening flashing through is mind. But just as readily, a heaviness settling deep in his heart as he took in the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow indented, a clear sign of its former occupant. Evidence as plain as day told Gavin that last night hadn’t been some delusion or dream. And yet… He reached out a hand, an involuntary, desperate motion, tracing the outline where his partner had lain. Where Connor had lain. But just as he’d feared, the sheets were cold. They matched the ice filling his heart. Slowly shuffling upright, Gavin leaned back against the headboard as memories of the previous day filled his waking mind. Flashes of the case he and Connor had worked together rushed by in a flurry. The tip-off for the perp they’d been tracking for weeks and the reckless chase that followed. The abandoned warehouse. The shootout. Vivid Thirium across dirty concrete. Connor had taken a bullet for him. Gavin remembered staring up into those brown eyes, watching as a splatter of blue burst from his chest. "I'm fine," Connor had said, "the bullet didn't nick anything important." And even though the android had gotten right back up and proceeded to almost single-handedly take down the rest of the hostiles attacking them, it was still a moment Gavin knew would haunt him for a long-ass time. Shit was enough to give him nightmares. It did give him nightmares, in fact. Which is how the two of them had ended up back here. In Gavin's apartment. Together. Because after that little fiasco, after the gang had been arrested and the hostages recovered and both he and Connor had been checked over by a medic and technician respectively, it still left the job far from complete. Needless to say, Gavin had eventually nodded off at his desk after a long night of interrogation and paperwork, the rushes of adrenaline and fear more than even his beloved coffee could contend with. He only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he'd finish up. But when he awoke some indeterminate time later, it was to his own voice screaming, Connor's name upon his lips, Connor's blue blood scattered across the darkest corners of his mind, Connor's hand upon his shoulder jostling him awake. The android’s LED was flashing a violent red as he stared Gavin down, his brown eyes wide with worry. Gavin couldn't help but cling to him, something twisting, clenching in his heart and demanding he hold on tightly. From there, things had passed in a blur, though he remembered Fowler's imposing figure ordering the both of them to take the next few days off. Too tired and distressed to argue, Gavin agreed immediately, only too glad to get the fuck out of there and go home. And Connor? Connor insisted he drive Gavin home. Connor insisted he make sure Gavin got to his door. Connor insisted that he get Gavin to his bed. And Gavin, still clinging to the android with every last bit of his flagging strength, let him. Over and over he let the android steer him along, trusting a partner fully for the first time in... For the first time

in far too long. And when Gavin had finally settled, comfortable yet shivering in his too-large bed, he took a moment to insist right back. "Stay," he'd said. One word. One plea. A lifetime of wanting to not be alone wrapped up in a single syllable. A few short weeks of shifting worldviews and growing affections cradled in four letters. A wealth of experience in loss stealthily couched within a breath. Gavin insisted. And Connor stayed. Or, at least Gavin thought he had. Because here and now, in the stupidly bright light of day, he was alone again. Like always. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise. He really should've known better. After all, why would Connor want to hang around here? Especially after his fuckin embarrassing little act last night, fuck. He probably had loads of things to do. Important... android things... People to meet. Places to be. He wouldn't waste his entire day sitting around in Gavin's shitty apartment while he slept like a log. How fuckin stupid would that be? It didn't mean anything. Gavin told himself this over and over again as he shifted, swinging his legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. Just because they could be considered friends now didn't mean Connor had to drop everything for him. Just because he'd begging him to stay didn't mean Connor owed him anything. He'd probably felt uncomfortable as hell last night, what with Gavin whining and bitching at him like a fuckin child. Probably said what he could to mollify him before getting the hell out of Dodge. Gavin couldn't even blame him for that. Fuck, Connor'd just had emergency maintenance done! Because of Gavin! Like hell he'd want some handsy human all over him for ten straight hours, Jesus Christ. It didn't mean anything. Even if he wished it did. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, thankfully interrupting his little pity-party. Thank fuck. It was too early in the morning (or afternoon technically) to be crying over stupid shit. He was probably just hungry. Yeah, that's it. He's all fuckin emotional cause he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter that Connor fucked off ASAP, Gavin could get some waffles delivered. Waffles never fuckin betrayed him. He could trust waffles. With newfound resolve, Gavin stood, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before scrolling through his food delivery aps to see if he could get waffles from anywhere at two in the fuckin afternoon. With heavy tread he stepped out into the hallway, mouth already watering at the prospect and stomach rumbling again in agreement. Fuck, he could almost smell them already. Wait. No, he can smell them? What the fuck?! Before Gavin could do anything more but stand there in his pajamas, wide-eyed and mystified, a figure stepped into view. Instinctively, Gavin's heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins as the threat of a home invader cycled through his brain. In that fraction of a second, he was prepared to dive into an all-out brawl with the bastard. He was not in the mood for this shit! But then said bastard's lips quirked into a dazzling grin and a brown-eyed gaze sent Gavin reeling in disbelief. While his brain was preoccupied with keeping his suddenly-weak legs standing, his idiot mouth opened up on it's own: "I thought you left,” he said, choking on his disbelief. Connor (because of course it was Connor) only quirked his head to the side in that cute way he does, looking for all the world like the dogs he so adored. His LED flashed a single, swirling yellow before settling back to blue and he said, "No, I was just making pancakes. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." A strange hesitance entered his voice, some dour note falling across his features. "Did you want me to leave?" "No!" Gavin blurted out in a moronic, high-pitched squeak because again, he was nothing if not an idiot. (And one destined to embarrass himself at every possible moment at that.) Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, you can do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me." (He's lying through his teeth. It obviously did matter to him. It

mattered a huge fuckin deal!) Connor blinked at him, the only sign of the awkward atmosphere between them the flashing colors at his temple. "Your words run contrary to both your body language and your involuntary actions," he said, "And they are a direct counterpoint to your request last night." Gavin fidgeted, knowing the damn android was right but never in a million years wanting to admit it. "Stop analyzing me, dipshit, it's too early for this." Finally, Connor's face relaxes a bit, a smile smile stealing across his lips. "It is two thirty-three in the afternoon, Gavin. Far from early." "Oh, can it, Poindexter! You know what I mean!" With a huff, Gavin moves forward, sidling past his annoying house guest. "What was that about pancakes?" Connor beams at him as the two of them enter the kitchen. "Ah yes. I determined that you would be hungry after going so long without food. I managed to make due with your atrocious grocery selection and have prioritized calories over nutrition for the time being. But just this once.” While Connor seemed dead set on critiquing the apparently-lackluster pantry he’d been forced to bravely overcome, Gavin only had eyes for the heaping pile of flapjacks sitting at his breakfast nook, fluffy and golden brown and still steaming. Fresh off the griddle, holy shit. How did he…? Despite his hunger, Gavin looked over at Connor questioningly. It was almost like the android could read his mind (which was a scary fucking thought) as he answered his unspoken query immediately: "I calculated your sleep cycle based off the Circadian rhythms I observed during your convalescence. I'm glad I timed it right. I wanted you to enjoy your breakfast." "It's past 2 pm," Gavin retorted with a smirk, "can't be breakfast now, hotshot." Connor's answering smile made Gavin want to melt into a puddle and he quickly turned away, staring at said breakfast with a helpless desperation. "Indeed," the android said, heedless of his partner's distress. "Regardless of the time of day, I wanted you to enjoy your meal, nonetheless." And something more vulnerable finally stole into his voice then, the merest shadow of his quiet pleas from the night before. "I thought, perhaps, you might consider them an offering." Gavin tore his gaze away from his not-breakfast then, looking up at his partner with enough confusion to drive out all other complicated emotions. "What offering? What the fuck are you talking about, tincan?" And now Connor was the one to look away. "It's just that..." He drew in a deep breath (though Gavin knew it was only him mimicking humans. Fucker didn't actually need to breathe) and continued, "yesterday... Yesterday frightened me. When I saw that gunman aiming at you, I—" He clenched his eyes shut, LED flashing a dangerous red. "In that moment, I preconstructed a multitude of outcomes, many of them where you did not survive. In which that bullet found its mark. And the thought of it, Gavin!" he wails. "I couldn't—! The thought was unbearable! And so I calculated the best result. And I determined my course of action. And you lived. You lived. And I thought that would be the end of it. But..." Finally, Connor looked up, his eyes meeting Gavin's head-on once more. "It was like a glitch. The preconstruction, it— It kept resurfacing again and again and again, every time you were out of my sight. And I... I disliked the feeling immensely. I think perhaps I hated it, even. And so I did my best to linger. I didn't want to leave you. Even though I knew you were safe, I still... It was so irrational but I still wanted to verify that you were okay. I still do." Before them the pancakes were growing cold, but neither paid them any mind. Connor looked away again, eyes shut. "I thought that, perhaps you had figured this much out last night. Which is why you asked me to stay. Because we are friends now and that's what friends do. But I worried that I may have... forced the issue... in my desperation. And I-I... I wanted to do something for you in return for your generosity." Looking down at the cooling

breakfast, Connor's face fell further. "I know it's not much but I thought at least—" Gavin had heard enough. "Okay, okay, okay, hold the fuck up, dumbass!" He stood, breakfast forgotten, and approached the shocked android with a fierce determination. Jabbing a finger directly into Connor's chest, he stated as sternly as he could, "You don't owe me a goddamn thing! For fuck's sake, Connor! You fuckin saved my goddamn life yesterday! You took a fuckin bullet for me! And even after that, you still fuckin stayed with me and made sure I got home safe!" A growl rumbled through his chest as Gavin poked Connor again. "I was having a fuckin nightmare about you dying! When you woke me up in the precinct! Did you know that?!" Connor shook his head but Gavin only poked him a third time, this time with much less force. He left his hand there, palm splayed across where his heart would be were he human. "That shit kept replaying for me, too. Over and over again. So I get it. I get wanting to 'verify.' I was doing the same thing. That's why I asked you to stay. Because I fuckin—! I wanted you here, okay?! Because the idea that you were hurt or injured or fuckin dead had me panicking!" He brought his other arm up now, slinging it around Connor's broad shoulders in a half-embrace, and leaned in, burying his face in the android's neck. "That shit's unbearable to me, too, tincan. Thinking of this fuckin trash heap of a world without you in it is—" He sucked in a breath. "Can't stand the thought." They stood there for what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only a few seconds) before slowly—tentatively—Connor brought his own arms up to squeeze around Gavin. He held him with a brittle tenderness, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid Gavin might break. And fuck, maybe he would. Maybe Connor could shatter him into a hundred-thousand little pieces. But shit, he'd take it. Because Gavin would never have been in this situation in the first place if Connor hadn't broken right through his walls first, scattering him and leaving him adrift in a strange, new world. And when he’d managed to build himself back up, it was into something—someone—stronger. Someone who could look at the world and see progress instead of oppression, opportunity instead of limitations, people instead of just machines. Connor had shattered his body once before down in the archives. He'd shattered his mind too over these last few months. It’d only make sense for him to shatter his heart as well. But he didn't. He wouldn't. And as Connor held him like a thing to be cherished, Gavin felt again that perhaps he'd been right last night. Perhaps this was a partner he could trust. A partner who could trust him, too. And perhaps he would— "Stay."

_____________

Bonus:

Connor: "Okay, but only if you eat your pancakes. I didn't download an entire cooking catalogue for you to let them go to waste, Gavin." Gavin: "Fuckin bite me, we're having a moment here." Connor: "Is your stomach rumbling part of that moment?" Gavin: "God fucking dammit, I fuckin hate you." Connor: ^_^ "False!" Gavin: "Fuck!"

And they lived happily ever after. ♥

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

HELLOOOO ahem i'm here to tell you something horrific that has happened to me. i am still not very sure if it did happen or i was just having a nightmare. IT FELT VERY REAL.

so uh i was sleeping (on my back like a dead person in their coffin ykyk GAKSKDK) and i felt a pair of hands on my ankles which woke me up and suddenly it pulled me towards the door but i only fell down the bed. after i was still all like ???? on the floor, i still felt like a presence in there (?) but i couldn't see anything or anyone. then i felt the hands grabbing my ankles again but i kicked and i thInk i kicked something and i just stared at the air hard (hopefully staring at wtv that was bc i cant see it lmao 😭) and yeah after i felt that the thing left, i went back to bed and checked my phone to see what time it was. i remember very well that it was 4:20 am.

it may very well all be some kind of crazy nightmare but it felt very real and i do remember being on the floor and crawling back to bed fhaksnsk oh and i never slept on my back again :D

-

shiiiiit that's creepy!! omg i'd get so, so paranoid to sleep with my legs outstretched now if that had happened to me 😭

did you experience it again after? or was it only a one-time thing. but either way, oh my gosh...i wonder what it was....do you usually get nightmares that vivid? hehehe.

i sometimes get those dreams too where everything felt very real WHILE it was happening, but like once i'm awake i would know that it was only a dream. but if u woke up and still felt like it actually happened, then idk :( yikesss, i hope it's never happened to you again/never will.

thank u, bel <3 <3 please take care! i hope your day is good :)

[wangxian-trash-cultivator]

hold me tighter (even closer)

Summary: Wei Wuxian suffers from really bad nightmares sometimes.  Lan Wangji wakes very early one morning to find him painting, it's been days since Wei Wuxian last slept.  So Lan Wangji does what any good roommate would do... help him bathe and put him to bed.

Rating: T || Word count: 3800 || Tropes/Genres: omg they were roommates; hurt/comfort; childhood friends; light angst; pre-relationship wangxian; mutual pining

Notes: Originally created this as a twitter thread fic and adapted it for AO3. Come say hello on twitter! I’m in the process of converting other threadfics over. This is part of my omg they were roommates AU series.  Enjoy!

AO3 Link || Original Twitter Thread

It’s nearly 4am when Lan Wangji wakes with a start.  The culprit? 

Oh, just another vivid sexual fantasy involving his close childhood friend.  

You know.  The one that’s now his roommate.  In the next room over.  

It’s not the first time it’s happened.  Lan Wangji has grown accustomed to the places his mind takes him when he isn’t conscious enough to control it.  To the scenes that always… linger when he wakes.  Even now, he can’t shake the image of Wei Wuxian’s swollen lips around his—

Nope, nope, nope, he thinks and kicks the bedsheets off.

Oh.  What a mess he’s managed to make this time. 

With a quiet groan, Lan Wangji drags himself out of bed to get cleaned up.  On the way to the bathroom he notices light creeping into the hall from under Wei Wuxian’s door.  

He knows Wei Wuxian stays up late.  He’s not sure how late most nights, but he’s usually asleep by the time Lan Wangji wakes up around 5 or 6. 

Lan Wangji thinks nothing more of it and goes into the bathroom to shower.  When he comes out again, Wei Wuxian’s light is still on.  

Now it’s strange.  Unless, maybe he fell asleep and forgot to shut the light off?

So Lan Wangji decides to investigate.  He raps his knuckles against the door lightly.  Testing.  He doesn’t want to be too loud and actually wake him if he is asleep.

"Yeah?" Wei Wuxian’s voice calls out and he sounds tired.  Beyond tired.  Why is he still awake then?

"May I come in?" Lan Wangji asks. 

"Sure, just be careful."

It’s an odd request, until Lan Wangji gently pushes open the door and sees why he said it. 

It looks like a hurricane passed through.  There are completed portraits strewn all over the room, some bone dry, some with fresh paint still glistening under the lights. 

Most of them are pure chaos.  Horrifying images of beasts and distorted faces painted in heavy blacks, greys, and reds.  The longer Lan Wangji looks, the more he feels like he is being sucked into a chasm of despair.

Wei Wuxian is sitting, hunched over, in the middle of the floor.  The eye of the storm.  He’s built himself a little nest of blank canvases, brushes, paints, and inks for easier access. 

When Wei Wuxian looks up from the canvas he is currently working with on his lap and offers a tired smile Lan Wangji’s chest feels uncomfortably tight.  Tired isn’t the right word at all.  He looks like he’s barely tethered to reality.

"Good morning, Lan Zhan."

His voice sounds all wrong.  It wasn’t as noticeable with the barrier of the door to mask it before.  Lan Wangji has never heard him sound so drained before. 

"Wei Ying, what is wrong?"

"Couldn’t sleep," Wei Wuxian says and drops his gaze back down to the canvas.  Lan Wangji waits for him to say more, because he always says more.

He doesn’t. 

Lan Wangji’s chest constricts again. 

"Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says without looking up.  

Ever since they were kids Lan Wangji has not known any stretch of silence to last this long between them.  It’s like he’s been possessed and placed in a trance where all he can do is zone out and paint.  He crosses the room, treading carefully around the minefield of canvases, and clears a space to sit beside Wei Wuxian. 

Now that he’s this close, Lan Wangji sees that the floor isn’t the only thing suffering right now.  Wei Wuxian’s arms are stained with ink and covered in splotches of acrylic paint.

"Wei Ying, will you tell me why you cannot sleep?"

Because it does not make sense that he can’t sleep when he looks and sounds the way that he does right now.  Lan Wangji cannot wrap his head around it at all.

Wei Wuxian dips the brush into an inkpot and hovers it over the canvas, it’s so saturated that the ink drips and splatters within seconds, adding to the accidental portrait he has created on his own skin.  Lan Wangji tries to ignore that the existing red splotches look like dried blood.

He turns his attention to the canvas instead.  It looks like some sort of dog, only worse.  Ferocious with matted fur, giant bloody fangs and piercing red eyes.

It resurrects something dormant in Lan Wangji’s memory.  A conversation they had as teenagers. 

"Wei Ying," he starts off softly. ‘Is it happening again?’

Wei Wuxian pauses for a moment, curls his fingers tighter around the brush and nods once.

"Yes."

The single word is hoarse and heavy.  It sends an arrow straight through Lan Wangji’s heart. 

To call them bad dreams would be putting it lightly.  

Wei Wuxian would wake in the middle of the night, unable to move or discern whether or not he was awake or still dreaming. 

Sometimes he could remember the nightmares with vivid detail.  

Sometimes only the indescribable fear would follow and cling to him like a second skin.  He wouldn’t always know why he felt so scared.  

Sometimes the feeling would just persist without any rhyme or reason. 

He had approached Lan Wangji when they were about 13 or 14 to ask if he ever experienced anything like that before. 

Lan Wangji had not. 

After hearing that Wei Wuxian tried to brush it off and pretend like it was nothing.  

Not wanting to pressure him to discuss it further Lan Wangji had let it go at the time.  

Until Wei Wuxian stayed over one night and he witnessed firsthand just how much it affected him. 

They were sharing Lan Wangji’s bed at the time. 

Even though Wei Wuxian had not woken up screaming, he had sat up so abruptly, panting in the dark, that Lan Wangji could not help but be roused as well.  Still, he brushed it off when Lan Wangji tried to ask about it.  Like he was embarrassed to even bring attention to it.

All Wei Wuxian asked was to be held until he fell asleep again. 

So Lan Wangji had held him.  And let it go once more.  Who was he to make Wei Wuxian discuss something when it clearly made him uncomfortable? 

But he did his own research and learned about sleep paralysis, night terrors and how stress can cause recurring vivid nightmares.  When he went to share all of this with him, Wei Wuxian had announced that everything stopped altogether.  

So the conversation was shelved yet again. 

As far as Lan Wangji knows, it’s been years since something like this occurred. 

Now that he thinks about it though, it would have been easy for Wei Wuxian to conceal the truth and just not bring it up.  

But he can’t do that now that they’re living together. 

Lan Wangji tentatively places a hand on Wei Wuxian's forearm.  He stops painting. 

"Wei Ying, how long have you been awake?"

"I don’t know," Wei Wuxian says.  "Two days? I stopped counting."

Lan Wangji brushes his thumb over a flaky patch of paint on Wei Wuxian’s arm.  How could he not have noticed him passing like a ghost through the apartment for two days?

"I know you do not like to talk about it, so I will not ask if that is what you wish."

Wei Wuxian lifts his head to look at him and… fuck.  

The skin beneath his eyes is shiny and bruised.  And speaking of his eyes.  They’re so bloodshot, holding none of the chaotic energy that Lan Wangji has come to siphon off of him over the years like elixir for the soul.

"Lan Zhan, I’m so fucking tired. I just want to sleep and I can’t even do that."

The way he says it really should not be making Lan Wangji’s sweatpants feels so uncomfortably tight all of a sudden. 

It’s not like he just had a sex dream about Wei Wuxian begging and whining in that exact tone of voice. 

Nope, not at all. 

But then Wei Wuxian’s eyes start welling up and it immediately pulls Lan Wangji back to reality.

If he starts crying there is no way Lan Wangji is going to be able to keep himself together either.  And from the looks of it Wei Wuxian really is dangerously close to falling apart. 

Lan Wangji wants to shake him for bottling it all up and keeping this to himself for two whole days.  Hell, he wants to shake himself for not paying attention better.  He won’t make that mistake again.  

"Come," Lan Wangji says, gentle yet firm. 

"Where?" Wei Wuxian asks.

"You are covered in paint," Lan Wangji states and plucks the brush from his hands.  Wei Wuxian releases it without a fight.  "I will start the shower for you."

Lan Wangji gets to his feet and offers a hand out to Wei Wuxian.  He allows himself to be tugged off of the floor and only once he’s standing does Lan Wangji realise the flaw in his plan. 

Wei Wuxian can barely stand without swaying on the spot.  Shoving him into the shower, alone, would just be asking for an accident to occur. 

"I will draw a bath instead. Come, Wei Ying." Lan Wangji carefully snakes an arm around his waist to lead him. 

"Lan Zhan, taking such good care of me," Wei Wuxian says, notably a little delirious now that he’s actively stringing more than two words together.

Lan Wangji can feel his ears getting warm.  If Wei Wuxian notices how red they’ve gone, he doesn’t say anything more about it. 

After guiding him to the bathroom, Lan Wangji carefully maneuvers him to sit on the toilet while he gets the bath ready.  

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! I like a lot of bubbles."

Lan Wangji rolls his eyes.  He knew that already, had already poured the bubble bath soap with a heavy hand.  But he tips the bottle over again and pours just a little more in for him. 

As the water rises, Lan Wangji rummages through the cabinet and extracts a small essential oil diffuser.  He sets it up on the counter and pours a few drops of sandalwood scented oil.

"Lan Zhan, that smells like you," Wei Wuxian says with a dreamy smile plastered to his face. ‘It’s nice.’

In the mirror Lan Wangji can see his ears have turned a deeper shade of red.

Wei Wuxian is now humming to himself as Lan Wangji shuts the water off and realizes… well fuck.  Now he has to get Wei Wuxian in to the tub.  And to do that he’ll need to….

Okay, so it’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked before.  They grew up together.  Shared locker rooms at school.  Have had plenty of sleepovers in the past where the accidental glimpse while the other was changing was inevitable.

Wei Wuxian likes to be naked most of the time anyways.  Especially during the summer.  And especially when he’s drunk. 

It should not feel awkward.  It’s just friends helping friends.  

Lan Wangji is helping his sleep-deprived friend— who he just so happens to be very much attracted to and over the moon in love with— to strip down and…

Oh . 

Wei Wuxian has already pulled off his shirt by the time Lan Wangji turns away from the bath to look at him. He tosses it into the corner and settles his hands onto the waistband, clearly already prepared to shimmy out of the pants while still sitting. 

Lan Wangji feels as though he’s been plunged underwater.  Every movement feels sluggish, and there’s a strange sort of muffled buzzing.  

He realizes it’s Wei Wuxian speaking to him. 

"Sorry, what did you say?" Lan Wangji asks, dazed.

"I asked if you could help me with these.  I get dizzy if I move around too much."

There’s absolutely no way that Wei Wuxian can’t hear the way Lan Wangji’s heart is pounding right now. It might actually come flying right through his chest if it keeps up like this. 

Collect yourself, he thinks.

He doesn’t trust himself to speak yet, manages a nod instead. 

Lan Wangji is already on his knees when he shuffles closer to Wei Wuxian.

"Lean back," he says, throat dry, and places his hands alongside Wei Wuxian’s on the waistband.  Not touching. 

As fingers dip beneath the fabric though, Lan Wangji feels his heart climb up into his throat upon realizing Wei Wuxian isn’t wearing anything else beneath the pants.  

Of course he isn’t.  Why would he?

It’s like he’s trying to separate Lan Wangji’s soul from his body without even realizing it.

He swallows thickly. 

"Lift your hips." It takes everything in him not to stutter.

Wei Wuxian’s hands brush against his as he relocates them to hold himself up.  The brief contact feels like an electric shock.  Like Lan Wangji has never known touch before now. 

Which is ridiculous.

Ridiculous because Wei Wuxian grabs hold of his hands on a regular basis.  Physical touch is just his natural form of communication with anyone and everyone. 

Lan Wangji closes his fingers tighter around the fabric to prevent himself from trembling.

Either Wei Wuxian is actually electing not to tease him for once or he really is just too tired to notice anything.  

Effortlessly, Lan Wangji works the pants down Wei Wuxian’s slender hips and is now faced with another dilemma.

He’s been avoiding Wei Wuxian’s face the entire time, keeping himself focused on the task directly in front of him.  Which means he is now staring directly at Wei Wuxian’s fully exposed dick.

Like full on staring at it.  Can’t-look-away-if-he-tried (please don’t ask him to look away) staring at it. 

They’ve caught glimpses of each other in the past.  But never has he allowed his gaze to linger. 

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian asks, amused. His words are muffled static again, but the next part comes out crystal clear.  "Like what you see?"

Lan Wangji is having a heart attack.  There’s no other explanation for it.  This must be what a heart attack feels like. 

And his ears may forever be stained red at this rate. 

Reflexively, he turns his attention up to Wei Wuxian’s face and nearly melts because that smile, oh god that smile he has on really will be the death of him.  

Wei Wuxian has to know what it does to people when he smiles like that. With eyes slightly squinting shut, the subtle wrinkling of his nose.  He uses all of the muscles in his face to portray his happiness.

Lan Wangji feels the earth shudder to a halt when he looks at him like that. 

"I’m only teasing," Wei Wuxian says.  He shivers, quickly and quietly. 

And with a jolt, the world begins to spin again. 

Lan Wangji stands up and wraps an arm around him to help him into the tub.  After he’s managed to carefully sit him down into the water he gets to his feet again, poised to offer him some privacy and return when—

Cold fingers intertwine with his. 

Lan Zhan? Wei Wuxian asks, uncharacteristically soft. "Can you stay with me?"

Back still to him, Lan Wangji’s breath hitches.  He prays Wei Wuxian hasn’t noticed.  He turns to find another smile waiting for him.  It looks as though he is using whatever remaining energy he has to offer it. 

Words fail.  Lan Wangji nods and sinks down to his knees once again.  

Wei Wuxian leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.  He doesn’t release Lan Wangji’s hand. 

Lan Wangji  remembers drinking too much once.  Remembers the pressure wrapped around his forehead like a rope tied too tight with weights attached.  He feels like that now. Drowsy and drunk as he wades sluggishly through the river of thoughts running rampant in his brain. 

He blames it on the heavy scent of sandalwood mixing with the rising steam of the bath water. 

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian’s voice slices through the mist. 

"Yes, Wei Ying?"

Lan Wangji feels Wei Wuxian’s hand clench his tightly once, pumping a secret message through his fingertips.  "You’re a really good friend."

The wild thumping of his jackrabbit heart in his ears muffles his own words when he replies. "It’s nothing."

Wei Wuxian languidly opens his eyes and fixes him with a look.  He opens his mouth, closes it again.  A speechless Wei Wuxian is such a strange sight.  It’s honestly a little unsettling. 

Lan Wangji appreciates the stillness of solitude at times.  But not when Wei Wuxian is around.  He silently revels in the chaos that Wei Wuxian carries with him wherever he goes. 

"I should have come to you days ago, you always know how to calm me down. I don’t know why I didn’t."

I wish that you did, Lan Wangji thinks. 

"You are here with me now," Lan wangji says instead.

"How are you always so patient with me?"

Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say.  He imitates Wei Wuxian’s gesture from before, squeezes his hand like it will convey all that he wants to say, but can’t. 

Wei Wuxian smiles back dreamily in response.  Lan Wangji thinks that maybe he does get the message after all. 

They sit in the silence for a few moments before Wei Wuxian starts to nod off, jerking his head up with a start and looking around with wide eyes whenever it falls towards his chest. 

Lan Wangji decides to be brave. Squeezes his hand again and forces the words to come.

"Wei Ying, please talk to me about it."

Wei Wuxian raises his free hand from beneath the water, mostly clean except for the ink stains that will take days to fade away, and rubs his forehead.  He sighs quietly. 

Lan Wangji waits patiently.  He doesn’t want to press, but he’s prepared to if he must.  

"I watched you die," Wei Wuxian says despondently. "Well, more like ripped apart by—” 

He stops, closes his eyes and breathes deeply before opening them again. 

"It’s always feels so real when it happens.  I tried to tell myself it wasn’t and go back to sleep, but it kept coming back.  I get myself worked up and it always comes back.  Ever since we were young."

Lan Wangji swallows, squeezes his hand again.  His recurring death being the main theme of Wei Wuxian’s nightmares was honestly never on his list of probabilities.  

But then again, he never explicitly said what it was that ripped him away from peace in the middle of the night.  It was one of the few secrets that he clung to.

"Why do you think I asked you to hold me until I fell asleep again all those years ago? And the few times I’ve come into your bed now after drinking too much?"

Lan Wangji’s throat is a desert.  The question is probably rhetorical.  Something he should know the answer to without having to ask.  But he can’t stop himself. 

"Why?"

"I needed to know you were there with me.  That you were safe and it wasn’t real because I felt you there with me— Lan Zhan!"

The water in the tub is not quite as hot, but still warm when Lan Wangji leans over and falls in as he throws his arms around Wei Wuxian’s neck, clinging tightly.  It’s an awkward scene, with his legs still hanging over the edge of the tub as his ass settles onto Wei Wuxian’s lap.  He should be the one comforting Wei Wuxian right now, but the hand moving against his spine makes it feel like the tables have turned. 

"Wei Ying, why did you not come to me now?"

"Ah, Lan Zhan, will you really make me say it?"

Something in his tone of voice hints at it.  He’s embarrassed.  The great shameless Wei Wuxian is embarrassed.

"Tell me," Lan Wangji says, leaning back enough to look at him. 

"It’s not fair of you to hold me down and force the truth out of me like this, you know!" Wei Wuxian tries to deflect. 

"Tell me," Lan Wangji repeats firmly. 

Wei Wuxian sighs.  "It’s awkward to say.  It feels childish to be afraid of such imaginary things.  Children have nightmares, not adults."

Lan Wangji could kick him if he didn’t want to kiss him so badly right now.  Of all the things he could claim to be childish. 

"Children are afraid of the dark," Lan Wangji says.

"Yes—"

"And so is Wei Ying."

"That’s beside the point."

"Children are afraid of monsters."

"Don’t even—"

“And so is Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhannnn, I’m too tired to be made fun of like this," Wei Wuxian whines, pouting as he looks away. 

Lan Wangji wants to lean forward and take that quivering lip between his teeth.

"Wei Ying?" Lan Wangji asks softly and earns his attention again.  "I do not think it is childish to fear losing those close to you."

"No," Wei Wuxian replies. "I suppose it isn’t childish at all."

They stay like that for a while, embracing as the bubbles dissipate.  When Wei Wuxian begins shivering again, teeth chattering loudly in Lan Wangji’s ear, they decide it’s finally time to move. 

Lan Wangji stands first, midsection drenched and dripping water along the floor as he retrieves a towel from the cabinet.  He helps Wei Wuxian up and wraps it around him, supporting his weight as he dries him off. 

"L-L-Lan Zh-an-an?" he chatters out.  How is he always so cold?

"Mn?" Lan Wangji grabs another dry towel and wraps it around him. 

Wei Wuxian sighs contentedly, nestling in closer.

"Can I sleep in your room?"

That is exactly where Lan Wangji was planning on leading him anyways. 

"Yes."

"Will you hold me until I fall asleep?"

And that is exactly what Lan Wangji was planning to do anyways. 

"Of course, Wei Ying."

After helping Wei Wuxian get dressed and settled onto the bed, Lan Wangji changes out of his own soaking wet clothes before laying down to join him. 

Normally, Lan Wangji would be sipping his morning tea in the kitchen or out on the balcony by now.  His day would have begun hours ago. 

Instead Wei Wuxian drapes an arm over his waist and nuzzles in closer, his breath warm and steady against his neck when he whispers, "Goodnight, Lan Zhan, and thank you," and then falls asleep almost instantly. 

Lan Wangji runs his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair, presses his lips ever so gently to the top of his head, and breathes his confession onto deaf ears, "Goodnight, Wei Ying. I love you."

[sweetbunnykook]

Only You (7)

Word Count: 11,126 // angst (mention of physical abuse, mention of child abuse/neglect, mention of forced pregnancy, mention of physical harm, weapons), smut (unsafe sex practice, blowjob, rimjob, fingering, cumplay), a hint of fluff

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

A/N: Thank you so so so so much for waiting so long omg the universe was set on sabotaging my fanfiction career but I prevailed. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I’m looking forward to the responses - 🐰

Playlist: The Very Gentle Lovers

‘I don’t love you anymore, Jungkook’

‘What?’ He looks up from his camera.

‘I said I don’t love you,’ you repeated, brushing your locks away with the back of your hand while you turn towards Seokjin, standing next to the television. ‘I’ve…I’ve been with Jin all along. He makes me feel complete, he makes me feel like a woman.’

He stands, the pencil falling from his fingers, looking between you and the man that didn’t belong in your apartment he called his safe haven.

‘N-noona what do you…mean? I-I’ve been good, haven’t I? I did everything you told me to. I-I,’ He panics, his breath catching in his throat as his hands begin to shake, sweat pooling in his palms.

You shake your head. ‘I’m sorry, Kookie.’ You lean forward and cup him softly on the cheek with one hand. He melts into your touch like butter, but before he can ask if you’ll change your mind, you’re moving away.

‘I didn’t want it to be like this, but you’re just too immature for me-’

‘I’ll do anything!’

‘-and I just think it’s best that I move in with Jin. He takes care of me,’ you smile at the broken hearted boy.

‘Noona please,’ he begs but his feet are glued to the ground.

He watches helplessly as you slide your hands in the crook of Jin’s arms with intimate familiarity. You roll your eyes at the tears streaking down his eyes as he begins to shrink, smaller and smaller, until he’s about the same height as your knees.

His cries turn into wails, the pitch of his voice rising and rising. There’s an iron man figurine in his hand and his other little fist flies up to his face to wipe his tears away.

‘Mama, don’t leave me!’ Jungkook wails. ‘Mama I’ll be good! I won’t be bad a-anymore! I won’t ask to play anymore!’

The door slams shut.

‘Mama!’

Jungkook startles awake, his fists taught on the bedsheets beneath him.

Pupils dilated. Hands shaking. Heavy breaths. Heavy heartbeats.

It’s been a while since he’s had a dream as painfully vivid as this one. Ever since he’d moved in with you and found the pleasure of holding you close every night, his nightmares lessened. It was a rather strange phenomenon but one thing he was sure about: you are his only remedy. He knows for sure now that calling Taehyung was the right decision. The man had told him to sleep on the idea first before confirming because this plan he’d brewed up over a single car ride could change your life – his life – forever. There’s no going back afterwards. The thought makes him queasy but ignites a flame deep in his core as well, because he knows no matter what Seokjin might pull, he’ll be four steps ahead. The prick must’ve thought he wouldn’t act so quick but no, oh no no no, he doesn’t wait around for things to get worse when it comes to you. You’re a woman after all. Your heart is fragile and innocent; it must be protected away from the claws of men that won’t love you the way he does.

It was distressful to bear witness to the filth you’ve been interacting with at your office behind his back. It was his woman that willingly went to Kim Seokjin for coffee. Jungkook couldn’t deny that you’re just as guilty as that prick, but he’s willing to forgive you as your doe eyes told him all he needed to know about your obliviousness.

Seokjin must’ve been nudging his way through your heart every morning you arrive at that suffocating building, preying upon your kindness, your willingness to stimulate a conversation with just about anyone out of curiosity. This eagerness of yours had scared him ever he’d first laid eyes on you. You really have no idea that men melt at any attention you give them.

Jungkook also notices well enough that the rest of the employees walked into the office right on the clock, apathetic about punctuality in contrast. They’re not as responsible as you are, as pure, as lovely. He knows for sure that your useless need to arrive to your job at least ten minutes early gave Seokjin the extra ten minutes to fantasize about you.  

His fists shook just thinking about you sharing a cup of coffee with a man that obviously wanted to pull you away from your precious boyfriend who was waiting so diligently at home, alone, frightened.

“Stupid fucking homewreckers…” he mutters underneath his breath, like a mantra.

He runs his fingers through his hair, digging his nails into his scalp as he leans into your side of the bed, inhaling the scent of your perfume and swallowing his pain down to let it settle in his stomach like disease. He curls into a ball, repeating the three words over and over again, head hurting, another voice mingling with his: his mother’s.

Liar!

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut.

Lies! Lies! Lies!

He presses an elbow onto the mattress and propped himself up, looking around the bedroom once more. Birds chirped gingerly outside the window and the freshly laundered curtains swayed gently with the salty wind. How come the room seems so peaceful and silent while he was rotting away on the inside, losing every bet he casted, finding no water in the midst of a desert? You are what made this bedroom feel like home. Your smiles, your touches, your eyes on him and him only. He longed for your warmth to come in this time when he needed you the most.

Jungkook slides his hand towards his neck and pops the first button before tugging the cotton over his head. He relishes in the warmth the golden sunlight offered on his firm skin; a cheap substitute compared to your touch. He looked around the room once more in daze, then softly tossed the shirt on top of the vanity where your perfume collection lay. His eyes caught your dresser and he was immediately stomping over to the heavy cherrywood furniture, his arms pulling the very bottom drawer towards him.

Your underwear lay neatly layered across the interior, color-coded from the lightest shade to the deepest. Jungkook knew your intimates very well for he took upon the responsibility of handwashing the delicates and removing any blood stains during your menstrual cycles. He organized the collection as well and familiarized himself with each color and design, noting which fabric you preferred and which kind of strap dug into your back.

His fingers grazed over the cups; one pearl set, two vanilla sets, one lilac, two beige, two peachy, one pale pink (his favorite), and three black. Off to the side of the well-made sets were the plain white cotton underwear and sport bras you wore on a near daily basis. He counted the pairs, totaling exactly twelve. One of the designer sets is missing and it dawned on him that you wore the subdued golden set he’d seen in Namjoon’s villa when he’d risked sneaking into your room. He couldn’t recount the amount of times he’d traced the gentle embroidery with the tips of his fingers, admired it on your body as the cups hugged your breasts just right.

His spine prickles with sweat when it dawns on him that you wore it to office today. Underneath those modest clothes you wore something extremely special – expensive too – for work. But it simply didn’t make sense to him. You walk around your office all day, scrambling for this and that, on the phone with a client, in a meeting, organizing files after checking basic calculations. It’s not the type of place you’d wear lingerie to unless …

Unless you wanted attention, you wanted someone to notice, someone that’s not your boyfriend, someone new, someone handsome.

Kim Seokjin

Shit, shit, shit!

The evidence was damning. Jungkook couldn’t deny it any longer; you slipped through his fingers just like that. Just some time ago you were feeding him sugared words with how you’ll only love him, want him, take him. Now that the routine is back, you’re looking for someone new!

It was rich of you to avoid his advances in your office when you were strutting for Seokjin. He knows that look on your face when you’re needy; your lips pouty, pupils dilated, cheeks pink, hair slightly tousled like you slipped out of bed. He reveled in the fact that after your little promiscuous phase, he was the only man that had the pleasure of seeing that face. It didn’t sit well that Jin has probably witnessed it at some point these past few days and he felt like an idiot for slacking off his grip on you. He can tell that you haven’t slept with Jin as you couldn’t lie your way out of a paper bag when he interrogates, but it could easily become reality any day.

Jungkook knew one hundred percent for sure that he must follow through the plan he made with Taehyung. He must!

Tears brim in his eyes and he quickly blink it away, but to no avail, they start flooding. Like a child, Jungkook sits in front of the drawer, rubbing his wet eyes with his fists, small whimpers and sobs shaking his nail-marked back. Just when he thought he can be happy with you something always goes wrong. Even when you hurt him, make him sick, turn his insides sour, he doesn’t have the heart to blame you for wanting another man.

It’s alright, Jungkook tells himself, because he’ll be better for you.

It can be anything. Maybe you hated the breakfast he made two mornings ago (because he noticed the way you grimaced at the dried cranberries). Maybe you hated the detergent he used (because it accidentally left a small gray stain in the lining of your favorite blazer). Maybe you hated that he forgot to water the plants regularly and the leaves became limp. He’ll have to set a few alarms to make sure he can avoid making any mistakes. It wasn’t that long since he’d broken Kim Namjoon’s nose (which was well-deserved, in his opinion) so he’s treading on thin ice.

Jungkook slides the drawer back into its rightful compartment and clears his throat, rubbing his face with the heel of his palm before moving into your closet. It was one of his pride and joys; the ability to touch what you will be wearing for the day. The closet had two walls with built-in stainless-steel poles on both walls. The left, yours, the right, his. Compared to his side – consisting mostly of white shirts and various types of jeans – your side was much more colorful and a bit of a mess too. He shook his head, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips. No matter how much he cleans it ends in a mess; such a clumsy girlfriend you are.

Jungkook pushes the coats to one side to reveal the wooden box behind. He scrapes the wood along the matte cabinet below, pushing the black lacquered lid aside with the flick of his thumb along the metal lip. It was a poor organization system but he assumes the box holds enough sentimental value for its beauty to outweigh the inconvenience. After all, he’s seen photographs of your grandmother with the same box in her wrinkled hands – no doubt a precious family heirloom.

Thankfully, he found the papers he needed in the third plastic file (thank goodness you at least portioned the stack) and flipped through the white sheets.

Your recent blood test is perfect, although your iron levels could be a little higher, and the ear infection from last year seems to be the only stumble you’ve had in a while. You had a regular check up with Dr. Kwon two months ago and you are as fit as an average woman can be. You aren’t due for another check up at the gynecologist until December, which gives him a great time to go ahead with his plan. It was a miracle that birth control pills worked better for you than an IUD because Taehyung had explained that there’s no getting around an inserted copper. Who knew that those lovely tablets you take on the daily would be the gateway to heaven?

Taehyung had clarified he’ll need two weeks at most to replicate the pills down to its exact color, taste, and size. Placebo pills aren’t exactly difficult to make but making a batch of fifty would take considerable time and patience amidst a busy schedule. Surpassing security was another issue but Jungkook wasn’t too worried about it when Jimin can pull a few strings with the guys at the dock. If everything goes well, you’ll never be able to leave his side again.

There was only a twenty percent chance of a woman conceiving after an intercourse and Jungkook was running out of time. He’s got competition and Jungkook doesn’t take any challenges lightly, especially one that concerns his place in your life.

If he wants to get you pregnant, he’ll need to be on his best behavior, and most importantly, get the timing right.

He folds the paper at its seams before sliding it into the plastic file. He then places it back into the box before clasping the lid shut. He’s got a considerable amount of research to do to make sure you have the greatest chance of falling pregnant; he can vaguely remember the article of a study finding that women who eat yams during unprotected sex can increase the chance of giving birth to twins but-

A click yanks Jungkook away from his thoughts to the box in his hands. The bottom inch of the box slides to the left in the complete opposite direction of the lid, and it is with great wonder that he discovers there’s a small switch underneath the box hidden from view that had unlatched when he dragged the box towards him.

The first detail that caught his eye was the luxurious red velvet lining that coated all sides of the hidden compartment. He can tell it’s been well-loved by its lack of stains or rips despite having survived an entire generation. The second shocker? The pearl and diamond necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings that lay on top of the fabric. He can immediately tell this was something you couldn’t afford on your own. It was impossible that you purchased this with your father’s inheritance money as you had told him before you were saving the money for emergencies or when you want to settle down somewhere for good.

It must be your grandmother’s jewelry.

He bit his trembling bottom lip and uncoiled the heavy diamond necklace from the collection, watching the diamonds glimmer under the bright closet light. God how he wished his bank account didn’t stay so barren every month. Each gem was at least two carats and there was about eighty lining the length of the necklace from one end to the next. He could sink to the bottom of the ocean from its pure weight.

Before he can entertain himself with the thought of seeing you in this necklace with nothing else, like in Titanic, his absolute favorite romantic movie, he caught the initials on the small clasp where the two ends meet.

KNJ

Jungkook squeezed the necklace in his fist so hard the world’s strongest material would have surrendered had he not given into his broken heart. He holds his shaking shoulders, digging the diamonds into his naked biceps, and cried, and cried, and cried.

Your feet ached in your loafers. Having to deal with Jungkook’s jealousy so early in the morning, then getting your head chewed off by your boss in front of your coworkers, and then suffering through the embarrassment of having Seokjin buy you lunch because you lost your debit card had steam blowing out both ears by the time you pulled in the driveway of your apartment complex. The bite mark on your shoulder still hasn’t healed and you are trying your hardest to not let the day’s bitterness get to you by complaining to your boyfriend about it. The mark was oddly romantic but after he threw a nasty glare at your best friend of two decades, you finally understand Jungkook does a lot of unnecessary things out of jealousy under the pretense of romance.

Is he really as kind as you think he is or is he kind because he wants you to be docile and forgiving after every slip up?

You shake your head. You’re tired, you’re hungry, and most of all, you want to cuddle with your cozy boyfriend after a long day. The day is just getting to your head, that’s all.

Just as you lock your car and make your way to the elevator, rain begins to pour, small droplets thundering on the lunchbox in your hand, and then falling all at once. Your feet stomped against the concrete as you break into a job towards the elevator, watching the old man that lived down the hall drying himself inside.

“Please hold!” You call out but the old man only turns to look at you, making no attempt to keep the doors open and so you watch pathetically as the silver doors close and the elevator makes its way up to the same floor you live in.

As if your day couldn’t get worse, the lift is transparent enough for the old prick to watch you get more and more soaked as he makes his way up.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You mutter under your breath as you curse not only at the old man but the way the elevator was built to be out in the open. They really couldn’t afford to put a little roof in front of the doors? The security guard in the booth next to the elevator didn’t even stir when lighting flashes, followed by an earth-shattering thunder. The building owner had the money to hire a useless guard but not enough to buy a twenty-dollar picnic umbrella from a thrift shop.

Amazing.

By the time you reach the front door of your apartment, you’re completely soaked from head to toe. You place the lunch box on top of the shoe cabinet and slip out of your loafers, wiping your feet on the door mat. Then you remove your cashmere top and skirt, shivering at the coolness of your apartment. You wring your hair on the door mat – a disgusting habit – in hopes of not bringing any moisture into the house more than you need to.

Grabbing Jungkook’s dry coat from the rack drilled next to the doorsteps, you wrap the warm material around you and make your way into the kitchen, throwing the wet clothes onto the kitchen counter.

“Jungkookie?” You look into the kitchen, expecting him to pop out from behind the polished cabinets with two glasses of wine.

You turn your head from side to side, brows furrowed in confusion as you noticed him crouching near the balcony doors.

“Kookie?” You asked again and only upon stepping closer did you notice the familiar box on the floor next to his feet, your necklaces wrapped around his fingers like snakes.

Faster than lighting you dive for his hand, the rush of madness fueling your veins to the point that you thought about shoving him towards the balcony where rain continued to pour just to hurt him. Jungkook watches you with bloodshot eyes, teeth gritted and fists tight as he pulls the jewelry out of reach.

“Those are mine!” You shouted, reaching for the diamonds as he keeps one free hand on your shoulder, pushing you away.

“You lied to me,” he snarls, his voice quiet yet you can feel his raw anger vibrate in your bones. His voice was unusually low and heavy, a complete one-eighty from the whiny boyfriend you’re used to.

“You had no right going through my stuff, Jungkook,” you glare, angry tears falling onto his lap, “this is my privacy!”

“You fucking lied to me,” he sobs, his voice rising. “I wanted to surprise you and clean your closet so you didn’t have to be stressed in the morning, noona,” he squeezes your shoulder as you reach for the jewelry again. “And I-I dropped your box by accident, I swear it was an accident. I was so afraid you were going to be mad at me-”

You growl, your eyes fixated on the jewelry.

“-but then I see that you’ve been LYING TO ME THIS WHOLE TIME!” He roars and stands, dragging you up by the shoulders with him. “You’ve been hiding EVERYTHING!”

“I didn’t lie,” you seethed, the day’s exhaustion melting off of you, “these are my jewelry, my gifts.”

He scoffs, lips pulling in a sneer. “You’re really keep pretending, noona?”

You’re not sure what aspect of his question peeled your eyes away from his jewel clad fist. It could’ve been the hurt in his voice or the fact that you were both soaked and angry. It could also have been the height difference, the way you notice you’re never going to be able to reach for his fist as he is taller, stronger, bigger.

It wasn’t until you feel the sting on your palm that you realized you’d slapped him across the face, silencing the room until all you can hear is his soft little hiccups. You’ve never laid your hands on another person until Jungkook came along. Hell, you threw an entire tantrum in grade school when riding a horse because you didn’t want to spank its behind to make it run. You’re not sure where this cruelty come from or how it manifested into a disease that grew in your hands. The last time you hit Jungkook, he was doing everything he can to protect you.

You only realize now that he was trying to do the same. In his own way, through his own insecurities, he was trying to rid Kim Namjoon’s fingerprints from your history. It wasn’t his fault that he’s blinded by rage because at the end of the day, it’s because he cares.

He loves you, and you take advantage of it.

No wonder Namjoon left you.

You’re selfish.

You’re blind.

You’re poison.

You dare to raise your eyes back up to his face from your hands and immediately sink into the blackness of his eyes. Regret immediately claims you like an eager death.

“J-Jungkook, I-I’m-” you can’t speak, can’t think, can’t respond.

Jungkook’s tears steadily fall while his lips are pulled taught. If you can touch his heart, you’re sure it’s pounding against his ribcage.

“…It’s never enough for you is it?” He asks in a voice that you’ve never heard before. “No matter how long I wait for you to come around, no matter how I’ll kill for you, how I’ll give you anything – anything – you ask for…you’re never going to love me as much as you love him, huh? You’d rather love a cheater than someone who will do any-fucking-thing you ask like a servant.” He grits his teeth. “Then go. Go back to that prick and don’t come looking when want my company but not me.”

Jungkook throws the necklace into the box laying haphazardly next to the open balcony door and turns, walking towards the shared bedroom to, you assume, fetch his clothes.

You shake your head desperately, your mouth unable to move on its own. “Kookie I’m-”

Before you can wrap your head around his words you’re running to him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. You were exhausted beyond belief, angry beyond belief, desperate beyond belief to keep the only light in your life that you keep dimming and dimming over again like you’re determined to sabotage your happiness. You don’t deserve him yet you’re selfish enough to reel him back him, choosing every weapon of choice: begging, kissing, touching, crying.

“Jungkook I’m sorry, oh my god, I’m sorry,” you cry, tightening your arms around his naked chest as you shake, cheek pressed up against his cold skin. “I’m sorry I h-hit you I’m sor-ry th-that I was upset, I didn’t mean to I swear Kookie please believe me, I love you, I love you so much, I’m sorry,” you whimper, holding still even when he attempts to shrug you off of him. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you’re not enough you are more than enough, you’re everything I can ever ask for, I love you, god I love you and I’m sorry Kookie please, I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure if you’ll survive if he leaves. Everyone in your life leaves eventually; Namjoon, Yori, your parents, your friends, everyone. Jungkook is your pillar and your giver; a giver of dreams and affection. Your boyfriend with a heart of gold that is as fragile as glass yet it beats everyday for you. You’re a fucking fool to break someone so kind just because you’re having a bad day.

Jungkook has had his own share of bad days yet he comes home with a smile just for you. His meals were cooked full of love, his caresses on your scalp full of care and concern. How could you think about hitting someone as precious as him over a few diamonds and pearls? Are you really so vain that you’re willing to step over the person who loves you the most just to hold onto expensive memories? He’s worth more than everything in that little box of yours.

“Baby,” you sniffle, “I love you…I don’t care what you want to do with it…throw it away, toss it over the balcony…I don’t care.” You close your eyes, breathing in the scent of rain dripping down his broad back. “I just want you.” You worship his skin through a kiss.

Jungkook keeps his lips pulled taught, eyes narrowed on the doorknob to the master bedroom. He’s going to end it once it for all, this maddening habit of yours of hanging onto other men. Seokjin is a fucking prick that wants to get into your pants. Namjoon is a filthy rich brat that bought your heart years before. He’s had enough of it.

He’ll make sure today will be the last day you’ll hit him over a man. Today will be the last day you’ll think of him as more than just a lovesick puppy that wags his tail for your entertainment.

He’ll show you that he’s a man.

“You better keep your word this time,” he turns and you take a small step back, knees trembling when he cocks his head to one side and glares are you through his inky wet bangs. “Because you don’t want to know what will happen if I find anything, and I mean anything, noona, that belongs to him in our apartment. Do you hear me?” He demands, making you nod shakily as you back away after every step he takes towards you until the bottom of your shoulder blades brush against the kitchen counter. “I’ll drain that pig over a bucket if you put him over me ever again, do you know that?”

You nod again, hanging onto every word.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes or no?”

“Y-yes!” You put your hands on his chest. “There’s really nothing left, Kookie-ah, I promise, I-”

He hushes you with his lips, tilting your head to one side to deepen the kiss. His tongue, slippery and wet, snakes over yours with the intent to harm, the muscle pulling your mouth painfully close to his that your lips would surely bruise the next morning. It doesn’t matter. You’re willing to take what you can get because you’ve come so close to losing everything tonight.

All because of one bad workday.

You wrap your arms around his neck while he scoops you up in his arms, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so your pulsing heat can rest against his taught stomach. He undoes the small knot you secured the coat with and push the heavy fabric away from your shoulders, watching you shimmy your way out.

Cute.

He used to pepper your face with kisses, giggling when you brush your nose over his jaw and tongue his ear to tickle him as he laughs. Not tonight; tonight, he’ll make you work for it, let you walk around in his shoes.

You cup his chiseled face in your hands, admiring how angelic he looks even when his furrowed brows remain as a residue of his rage. Your cookie, your heart, your bunny. You brush your thumbs over his cheeks, admiring the very small scar on his left cheekbone that told the public that no, he’s not a walking sculpture but a human being who might as well be Rodin’s ideal muse. He’s ethereal from afar and alien up close. The way his eyes held so much power, like the edges of a supernova black hole distorting your reality until all you can focus on is the darkness that lulls you inside its abyss.

“I waited for you my whole life,” he whispers and you almost didn’t hear over the rain rattling the open balcony doors. He leans his inflamed cheek into your palm. “I don’t want to be punished for it.”

Jungkook closes his eyes when you lean into him to rest your forehead against his. He heaves a sigh, exhausted too you imagine, and nudges his face closer until his lips brush yours. Even when he wants you to work for his affection, he couldn’t help it but steal a kiss. Your rejection from this morning still damaged his pride.

“I’m the one who deserves to be hurt, not you.” You snake your hands down his chest to his belt and then back up towards his heart. “I’m n-not,” you swallow, “I’m not usually like this, I’ve just had a bad day.” You cast your eyes away. “I’m sorry I l-lied to you about throwing everything that belonged to him away. The necklaces were given to me after I was engaged and I just…I don’t know why I kept it still even though I’ll never wear it but I just…”

You sigh, your watery eyes holding his steel gaze. “I love you. I-I don’t want to lose you Jungkookie,” your lips tremble and you tighten your hold around his neck. “Please don’t leave me…I know I’ve hurt you but please don’t leave, I don’t know what I’ll do,” you tuck your face under his jaw, “if you leave me.”

Jungkook presses his cheek against your wet hair and inhales softly through his nose. He knows you don’t realize how easy it is for him to play on your fears. Your fear of people – of men you love – leaving you, your fear of losing control, doing something you don’t mean. Your perfectionist nature was so easy to work with that he almost wants to toy with you a little more. For a brief moment he enjoys having the upper hand in the relationship. Sometimes it’s exhausting to always be the one that feared for an ugly fight that can lead to the end. It feels healthier to show this side of him a little more so you understand your privilege; after all, it’s not everyday that you’ll find a man who’ll give you a baby just to keep you close.

“There’s nothing I won’t do for you,” you snivel softly in his ear, “I love you so much.”

Jungkook tightens his hold around your waist and drags his feet towards the bedroom door. You hold still, fingers weaving through the ends of his hair.

“Can you please say it back?” You begged pathetically, unable to take his silence any longer. You missed your sweet whiny, clingy, giggly boyfriend, the boyfriend that couldn’t go a single day without telling you how much he loves you.  

Your heart pounds in your chest when you realize he’s still upset.

His strong hands unravel around your hips and he pulls you away, setting your body on the soft, messy mattress. You wipe the moisture from your eyes with the back of your hand and watch him straddle your thighs between his knees, placing the lightest amount of pressure to keep you down. You were still waiting to hear the three magical words but they don’t come.

You messed up this time.

Jungkook pulls the straps of your brassiere down your shoulders, letting you bend at the elbows to bring the embroidered material down to your navel. He reaches behind the curve of your waist and unlatches the bra, throwing it to the side with one hand while the other reaches behind him and tug your panties down your bottom with a harsh tug. You lift your hips against him and let him roll your panties down your thighs, over your knees, and down your ankles. You’ve been in this position many times, but you’ve never felt as naked as you do now.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask with wide, oblivious eyes, wanting to do just about anything to please him. Jungkook merely shakes his head.

“This isn’t for you.”

It hurt more than you thought hearing those words fall from his sweet, pink lips.

He presses his nose against your jugular and nibble on the skin, teeth sharp and painful against the epidermis. You suck in a breath and bite your tongue as he moves to do the same to the opposite side of the neck, meanwhile peeling your legs open to settle his core against your wet center. Your hands stay still on his hard shoulders, moving along with his ministrations to keep yourself grounded to his touch.

A breathy moan brushes past his ears when he latches his teeth onto your left nipple, tonguing the bud into the swollen tissue before wrapping his mouth around the areola. You squirm underneath his body, body warming, ears rushing with blood. His wet jeans rub against your inner thighs to remind you that he’s been near the balcony for god knows how long. He must’ve been so cold, so heartbroken, so betrayed, while you were at work rolling your eyes to Jin poking fun at his jealousy.

Jungkook pulls back to eye the bite mark on your shoulder and the nudge his way towards the opposite breast, practicing the same caresses with the tip of his tongue. You can tell he’s purposely making every flick of tongue as painful as possible for you. You don’t argue because you know you’ll never learn from this mistake if he doesn’t drill it into you.

“You belong to me, noona.”

You exhale and look down at his hands moving towards his belt, tugging the leather apart and pulling the silver button open along with the zipper beneath. It was with great relief that you realize your baby boy is back, even if it’s for the briefest moment, his voice desperate and whiny, just the way you liked it.

You watch the veins on his forearm protrude as he grasps his hardness at the base and smears his dripping precum over the surface. He watches you with half-lidded eyes, breaths shallow as he jacks off to the image of you spread so shamelessly for him, bent knees pulled apart while you pet your swollen nipples with one hand, the other laying limp next to your head in surrender.

“Every part of you is mine,” he whimpers, cheeks flushed, his wet bangs rocking back and forth with every tug of his cock. “You only get to wear what I buy you.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes…”

The loveliest groan escapes his lips when he pushes his weeping tip against your clit, rocking his hips slowly to watch his slick drip onto your thick and curly pubic hair. His eyes follow along your taught stomach up to your navel where, once the time is right, he’ll see it stretch slowly when his child grows inside you. He can already imagine how needy you will be as an expecting mother, how he’ll have the pleasure to palm your aching breasts filled with milk. He thought it was impossible to be as hard as he is already, but the pulsing in his cock hammers blood through the tip and a small spurt of cum falls onto your clit.

He doesn’t give enough time for you to prepare for his length as he rams the head of his cock into your slit, and fucks your body up to the edge of the bed where he holds the side of the mattress and crashes his soaked hips down to your center. You choke on a moan and a scream, fingers grasping his fists as you lift your hips in a bow to accommodate all of him.

“Yes, baby,” you cry, “use me all you want. I’m yours!”

Sweat sticks to his temples and you struggle to wipe away the perspiration when he’s ramming into you so hard your vision blackens. From the tips of your fingers to the ends of the toes, your body vibrates with uncontrollable fire. The head of his cock strikes into your silken walls with the intent to rip you apart from the inside. He’s dripping steadily in you, lacquering your walls with white opalescent cum that feels as scorching hot as his skin.

“Fuck…fuck,” he grips the edge of the mattress harder, pulling his hips back until the tip of his cock rests in your cavern, and then slamming himself inside all over again. Your fluids squelch as he enters, dripping over the zipper of his jeans. “It feels so good, noona, you make me feel so good,” he rests his forehead against your bitten shoulder, his hips moving on its own like a piston. Not even a line of coke will feel as good as your pussy does clamping down on his throbbing erection. He swears he can feel your cervix trembling against him.

“I’ll always make you feel good,” you promise, cupping his face while he continues to pout at how little threshold he has for pleasure. You can tell when he’s about to lose control by the way he clenches his eyes shut and the veins on his neck stands for attention. He empties inside with a growl, grinding his hips completely down onto your sex to keep his cum from dripping out. He stays still only for a few seconds to catch his breath.

You couldn’t capture his lips when he pulls away to sit back on his heels and watch the base of his cock pulse slowly until he softens. He pins your knees up to your chest and pulls out before clamping his mouth over your pussy gleaming with his fluids. He gathers the cum between your folds, across your labia and underneath your clit onto the tip of his tongue. Then, spreading your folds apart with his thumb and index finger, he spits onto your hole, his tongue pushing the fluids in further while you squirm and curl your toes into the sheets.

“Jungkook,” you moan in embarrassment, your hand darting up to your face to cover your red cheeks.

As if you couldn’t feel more naked, he chuckles. “You taste the best when you’re shy, noona.”

You catch your breath while watching him tug his soaked jeans down his thighs, the stubborn material slipping off only when he rips the material an inch down its center. Scared that he might still be upset, you pull your body onto your elbows, then onto your knees. It was only when you can sense his forgiveness in the air that you trail your fingers up his arms and towards his shoulders.

“Can you make me cum too?” You tempt him, arching your back while you place his palm onto your heavy breast.

He nods gingerly, captivated by your pink nose and cheeks. You’re so beautiful when you cry; Jungkook has to fight back asking you to call him a good boy. He has the woman of his dreams wanting him to touch her, he couldn’t ask for any other luxury.

“Only if you say please.”

You shake your head, suppressing a smile when he sticks his tongue through his cheek at the rejection. Riling him up when he’s pissed is not the best thing to do, but the temptation was hard to resist. Taking back your status as his lover, caretaker, and owner, you push him gently back onto the mattress and throw one leg over his chest, wiggling your bottom while you palm his inner thighs and dig your nails into his hard muscle.

“Please, baby?”

Jungkook traces his thumb down your ass and circles your clit ever so slowly. You wiggle your hips again and sink your mouth down onto his semi-hard cock without warning, making him jump out of his skin and snap his back away as you chase after him. You use your own slick leftover on his solid length to lube your middle finger and rim his tight hole.

“G-god, noona!” He throws his head back into the mattress with a thump, sweat prickling its way down his abdomen, down his happy trail, and into the crook of his thighs.

There’s my baby boy.

You roll your tongue over the tip and keep your teeth tucked as you swallow him. With his curved erection, it was difficult to swallow without triggering your gag reflex but damn it you just wanted to please your boyfriend. Clamping down on the inside of his thighs with your nails to keep him spread, you pull back and spit down his length, regaining a sense of clarity when his tongue curves into your folds once more. If it wasn’t for Jungkook hooking his thick arms around your thighs to keep you locked in place, you would’ve fallen onto his face.

When your knees buckle he pull away, prolonging your orgasm with just the right amount of pressure in your womb to keep you aching.

You grip him hard in a fist and move up and down, pulling his foreskin taught. Your tongue dips between the gap of his balls and circles his tight, blushing hole. His choked whimper tells you all you need to know about where your tongue needed to press. Just when Jungkook tilts his head to the side to see your hair fall over your shoulders, he feels your nail curl slowly into his weeping slit. You look behind when you feel his gaze.

“Does this feel good, baby?” You inquire with the most innocent expression you can muster. He would have came immediately if he wasn’t so enamored with your perfect pussy so close to his tongue.

“D-Don’t, uh, tease me.”

You giggle, watching his eyes glaze over when you pump him harder, the small squelches from his cum making your insides clench with glee.

“Let me watch you cum first,” you whisper and keep pumping whilst grinding your hips down onto his fingers.

Jungkook gathers as much strength as he can and slips his middle and ring finger inside you, unraveling only when he feels his fluids resting on your milky walls. His breath hitches in his throat and every muscle in his body tenses, spurts of his milk catching in your hair, on your lips, and jaw.

You could look at his face forever; his rosy lips parted, the same shade as his cheeks, overwhelmed tears panting his thick lashes, his eyebrows furrowed, his bangs glossy and wavy around his face. Jungkook was an addiction.

Just the sight of him alone makes your wet sleeve tighten around his fingers. You follow his high, reaching down to circle your clit slowly as you grind down on his fingers.

Jungkook’s eyes widen upon realization and he curls his fingers inside, helping you reach that place between reality and an illusion. The warmth, the lightness, the nirvana that an orgasm from a lover brings you – irreplaceable.

“Kookie…” you sigh, your bones melting on the spot under his loving stare.

You lay your cheek on his thigh, catching your breath first, before crawling towards him to nestle your face in his shoulder.

“I love you more,” he tells you at last, bringing you back to earth.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and brings him down to your chest. He pulls your body close with one hand on your waist and wraps his mouth around your breasts, suckling softly, moaning his forgiveness into your skin.

Your breathing steadies as you listen to the rain and the soft nibbling of his teeth around your bud. You’re not sure when you succumbed to the exhaustion that nestled deep in your psyche, but by the time Jungkook finish showering your breasts with the love and attention they deserve, you lay limp in his arms.

It would be so easy, Jungkook thought, watching your naked chest rise and fall as he thumbs the faint trail of veins on your neck, to dig his knife into your throat and drain you. It was captivating to watch as he dragged his fingertips across the stretch of muscles underneath, a smile playing on his lips as he watched you struggle to keep yourself awake. If you opened your eyes, you can still see your glistening juices painted on his bottom lip, his pink tongue darting out to take the remaining sweetness back into his mouth as if he couldn’t bear the thought of wasting a drop of your honey. Your skin was smooth to the touch, only scars from hormonal acne during your youth remaining on the back of your arms and back. A musky scent of sex and cologne drifts around you like the humid summer air of Seoul.

Jungkook snakes his hand up your chest and feels your heart beating under his palm. He then slumps down on the cotton pillow next to you, heaving a sigh of satisfaction, lifting the sheets up to cover your weakened body.

Jungkook lifted his hand up to your pink cheeks and swiped the stray tears that stained down your temples. He leans forward and slides his tongue along your lips, groaning when your lips move sluggishly against him in an attempt to please him, even in your sleep. It made him feel powerful, wanted, needed.

Once again, you’re his to keep.

As long as you’re a prisoner to his heart, he’ll be your servant and your loving boyfriend who will always serve you like a goddess. He’ll remain pious, as long as you remain his woman only. Through fights, through sex, through tears, through laughter, he’ll etch away every memory you held of other men until the only thing you’ll see is his rabbit smile.

“Welcome home, noona.”

“I really don’t understand why we couldn’t do this later.” The plump woman groaned, walking down the carpeted hallway next to a man that was at least half a foot taller. She wore a black wrap dress with a matching black coat, her hands deep in her pockets. Her cheeks were soft and round, the lovebird blush on the cheekbones giving her a youthful color that had her lover soppy on the inside. She looked rather normal and plain compared to her modelesque partner who stood out like a sore thumb with his lab coat and turtleneck. It would have been a sweet date if they weren’t on the way to blackmail two men.

Her eyes dart from one side to another, beady pupils following the sound of the air conditioner. Now where was room again? Hong Kong really is a maze.

“Meerkat Manor will come again next Tuesday.”

“Oh that’s rich, Tae” she roll her eyes, “as if you’re not working six days a week, every week of the year. This was the only time we could watch it together without you passing out every other episode.”

He stays quiet, absorbing every detail of the hallway from the tacky mock-chandelier light fixtures to the royal purple doorknobs. The building reeked of cheap prostitutes and boxed wine.

Jungkook really has him flying to such an unsavory place just to stop a man in South Korea from developing a crush on this precious ‘noona’ of his. God, the things he does for his little brother. First, the pregnancy, and now Kim Seokjin’s men. He’ll dream of retirement when he’s dead.

“Keep your tone light and remember to use these if you need to.” He tapped the side of her thigh where his scalpels are strapped. “Play it safe.”

Taehyung has always had a sharp sense of direction, which always irked his lover for reasons unknown. In a job like this, no one can risk not knowing. It’s the survival of the fittest.

The door to Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi’s apartment was two doors down from where they were standing. There’s very little room for failure.

Taehyung unstrapped the pistol from the back of his dress pants and loaded the gun, keeping it pointed down and away from his lover. He stood a foot away, back glued to the wall as she knocked once, and then twice, on the wood.

“Excuse me,” she yelped in Cantonese, giving another hard knock. “Is there a Jung and Min here?”

The lock unlatches after a few seconds and a man whose voice can only be described as tired and smoky, responded.

“We don’t have any money,” he said in broken Cantonese. “Um…uh, room service…uh…no need, okay?”

The woman tilted her head at him and smiled, noticing that he is, in fact, armed by the way his cheap blazer couldn’t hide the bulky leather gun-strap underneath. She shrugged off her coat and hiked one side of her dress upwards, inquiring if there are…other services, he might need.

Yoongi, looking back and forth from his boyfriend making eggs in the kitchen to the woman standing with one side of her dress hiked, scratches his ears in frustration.

“Um…the service,” he started in Cantonese and groaned, reminding himself to scour for a new apartment in a better town. He was already late to a meeting with the district police.

It was only when he took a step forward to kick the woman out for good that he saw a figure in the corner of his eyes. He was only able to take one glimpse at the man – the aristocratic nose, the blank expression, the black neatly-combed hair – to realize something didn’t feel right.

That was when the woman grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face onto her bare knee, a resounding crack giving her the confidence she needed to slip her scalpel out and hold it against his jugular.

“Move, and I’ll slit your throat.”

Taehyung quickly tugged the sides of Yoongi’s blazer upwards and stuffed both pistols in his back pocket, keeping his lover in charge as he walks into the apartment with an ease of a husband coming back from work.

“Hello, officer Jung.”

Yoongi can vaguely hear the sound of a pan dropping from in the kitchen, and it was with great relief that the woman holding him at knife-point kicked him back into the apartment. He held his broken nose with both hands and rolled inside, kneeling at the doorstep as he stayed glued to the floor. The carpet was doing a great job of sucking up his fluids. His eyes, however, remains on the gun pointed towards his boyfriend, dressed in a simple pair of pajamas and an apron, who began to walk towards the armed man.

“What do you want?” Hoseok asked, keeping his hands in the air. “Did Li send you?”

Taehyung shook his head. “I have no ties with your associates.”

“T-Then what’s this-?” Hoseok asked again, eyes widening when he realized Yoongi’s nose is crushed. His partner splutters blood over the house slippers he kept next to the entrance to the bathroom.

“I need you to stop working with Kim Seokjin.”

Yoongi feels the scalpel press against his skin harder, a bead of blood falling onto his shaky hands.

“Jin?”

Taehyung nodded. “Yes.”

Hoseok focused on the man’s face, then Yoongi, then the knife pressed against Yoongi’s neck.

He nods eagerly, agreeing on the spot. “I-I will, just let Yoongi go, I promise I will.”            

Taehyung pulls back the hammer with his thumb, causing Yoongi to struggle as he trembles on the floor. Hoseok’s eyes begin to water but he keeps his gaze focused on Taehyung’s uneven eyelids. This wasn’t the time to show any weaknesses.

“This means there will be no contact with you and Kim Seokjin whatsoever. No emails, phone calls, or letters. You will not send him information about anyone, dead or alive.”

“You’ll have my word.” Hoseok nods.

“And one more thing,” Taehyung walks over to the laptop settled next to the bed on the nightstand, tapping it once before moving the gun back to position. “I want you to email Seokjin with my exact words before you cut all ties.”

Taehyung pushes the barrel against Hoseok’s shoulder and rests his index finger on the trigger.

“Tell him…if he minds his own business,” the barrel pushes harder, “he’ll have two working arms.”

Bang

“Did you hear something?”

He glances nervously at the open bedroom door. You sit up on the bed, shivering when the air conditioning rattles awake and rain continues to pound against the bedroom windows. Jungkook groans while he shuts off the storm alert on his cellphone.

“It’s just the wind, Kookie, come back to bed.”

He rolls towards you and places his head on your lap, his lips pushed against the small pouch of fat on your lower belly. It was obvious neither of you are getting a full night sleep. Sex didn’t nearly solve as many problems as they wish it had. Not to mention, guilt hung around your neck like a stone every time you catch a glimpse of his slightly swollen cheek.

Jungkook had been awake for most of the night, his heart refusing to calm because he’s utterly, completely, absolutely happy. He notices that you couldn’t sleep much tonight either, a sign that he’s gotten under your skin, but he continues to worship your body every time your breathing evens and you curl against his side. He kisses every inch – from the space between your fingers to the crook of your legs. He palms your shapely body with the heel of his hand, massaging his way down your waist and stretchmarked hips.

He prays that when the time comes, you’ll bless him with a child that would hammer the last nail to this cage he built for you to stay in. He can just imagine your belly stretching farther and farther as the months pass. He wonders if you’ll taste just as sweet on his tongue, or maybe, you’ll be even sweeter? It was thrilling to prepare for this new future. He’s not sure what to expect as you are his first and only love. You might be scared at first, you might even break his heart a little when you panic, but it’s nothing the relationship can’t withstand. You are a responsible woman and he’s the love of your life; isn’t that all you need in a relationship? Just love?

A child will be a proof of that. The baby will be just as intelligent and educated as you but also as caring and protective like him; a perfect split between two loving parents. It would be a little difficult for a few years to take care of a baby and he would have to deal with receiving only half your attention. However, he knows it’ll be worth the exhaustion in the long run.

He’ll finally have the family of his dreams.

But first, he needs to settle the foundation to begin your journey towards motherhood. A little dose of empathy here and there, a little bit of his story sprinkled in between, a little bit more terror, more vulnerability on his part. He’ll have to expose a few unpleasant things so you’ll understand that he does have a justifiable reason for the pouty, clingy mess that he is.

“I just-” Jungkook hesitates, sitting up on the edge of the bed, but you sense his nervousness immediately and pull him closer.

“What is it?” You swallow. Please don’t be mad at me, Jungkook. Please.

“Storms scare me,” he confesses. “I hate loud noises…but you always make me feel safe here though. You’re going to protect me, aren’t you?” His attempt to lighten the mood was pathetic to say the least, but you don’t mind. You couldn’t take the silence when you startle awake every hour, finding Jungkook awake every time, staring at the mirror cabinet in the bathroom. Each time you succumb to subconscious, you couldn’t help but worry that maybe he’s thinking about leaving you in the morning. Maybe he thinks keeping you isn’t worth it.

Your lips pull into an uncertain smile and the corner of his sleepy eyes crinkle at the sight. “I’d do anything for my baby.”

“Tch,” he lightly slaps your arm away.

You sensed that he was shy about his fears and drops the subject in hopes of not embarrassing him any further. However, you needed to address the elephant in the room and Jungkook couldn’t meet your eyes knowing that you’re on the verge of tears yet again.

While you were bathing in fear, he was so happy inside he could die.

“Kookie…” you turn to him again, your eyes roaming over his long, thick lashes. “I’m sorry for everything.”

He catches his bottom lip under his rabbit teeth and cast his eyes towards the floor. Taking the sheets with him, he covers your bare body and takes your fingers in his hands, bringing it up to his lips. You watch him linger on your ring finger – where Namjoon’s ring once adorned – and flash you a knowing smile, swallowing the pain down.

“I…” he sighs, not sure how to approach the subject. It was rare to see such vulnerability on your part that he couldn’t help but take advantage of your kindness. Just a little though, just enough for you to keep that guilt alive no matter where you go and who you talk to.

“I wish you didn’t have to hit me, noona.” He swallows once more, knowing this is the only chance he’ll have to tell you the truth. He wants to sew that guilt deep inside your heart so you’ll never dare to hurt him again. “I know you were angry…and I know I’m just as unreasonable when I’m angry…but I don’t want to end up like my parents.”

You place a comforting hand on his back despite the heavy pressure weighing your heart down to your stomach. Jungkook throws a cautious glance at your face and continues when he sees he has your full support.

He focuses his eyes first on the alarm clock flashing four with bold red numbers, then gathers the courage to meet your eyes.

“My mom…um….my mom used to hit dad and I for most of my childhood,” he confesses, voice small and shaky yet you can sense the strength it took for him to say it out loud. It doesn’t make it any less easier for you to swallow the guilt. You’ve been physical with someone who’d suffered unimaginable trauma at a young age and in both times that you’ve hit him, his thoughts were all about you. If someone offered to break every bone in your body at the moment, you’d take the deal.

“He wasn’t the best either b-but um…” he takes your free hand in his, shakily brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. He squirms in discomfort, licking his lips every now and then while he tries to find his words. “I-I promised myself I won’t end up like him.”

You pull his head in your chest, letting him rest his weight. He sniffles then, shuddering when you wipe away the stray tears that glistened in the glow that the streetlights outside offered. He can feel that warmth again – your love – that’s created all for him. This is where he belongs, this is where he’s meant to be.

“I’m so sorry, baby, oh my god…I’m sorry.” You coo, wrapping your arms around him at last. His shoulders are too wide for your arms, but you take what you can get. You need to learn that you’re not the only person with boundaries, with a history of trauma, in this relationship. Your sweet boyfriend had been suffering silently behind your back too.

“I’ll never, ever, lay my hands on you like that, Kookie. I mean it. I-” you blink back yours tears, knowing the texts from his mom in your memory never settled comfortably, “I’ll never hurt you again. God J-Jungkook, I can’t imagine-”

He nods, nuzzling his cheeks closer to your heart. “It’s okay, noona, you didn’t know-”

“No!” You shake your head. “It’s not okay. It’s n-not okay for me to do that. I’m supposed to take care of you yet I…I’ve done nothing but hurt you. Oh baby,” you brush his bangs back and place a tender kiss on his hairline. He wraps his arms around you in return, rubbing his cheeks into your naked breast.

“I’m not lying when I said I’ve waited my whole life for you.” He exhales, letting you comb his hair gently through your fingers. “You’ve given me everything I’ve always dreamed of. It still feels like…like a prank sometimes. When are you going to disappear…when are you going to fall for someone else…I get scared when I think of things like that.”

“Why would I leave you, Kookie?” You hold him tighter.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know…I think I’m just scared it’ll eventually happen because I-I know I have issues and I’m not that educated and I’m-“

“Stop!” You grab his face, holding both his cheeks in your hands. “Don’t say things like that about yourself! Understand?”

He holds your wrists. “Noona-”

“I mean it. I don’t care about your job or your past. I. Don’t. Care! I love you and only you. No matter how blind I am to it sometimes,” You peck him softly on his chin, “you’re mine to take care of and mine to love. There’s no other man that has my heart.”

Jungkook’s fists shakes. Endure it a little longer, don’t let her see how happy you are. Endure it!

He nods eagerly. “Do you promise?”

“Of course, baby, of course I promise.”

His eyes glow. “Truly? You won’t hit me, won’t leave me, won’t look at another man?”

You roll his earlobes in between your fingers and capture his lips, sealing the promise. “Never…I’m all yours. I want to care for you and be yours, always.”

Like music to his ears.

He sighs in relief. “Oh, noona…”

He wanted to relive this moment forever and hear those words repeat over and over again in his head. He wanted to call Taehyung and tell him that he finally found his family. After all those years of walking home from school with bruises, starving on the streets, sleeping in a bedroom that smelled of urine, he reaches paradise. If he thought he’d reached heaven on the day he swore to kill for you, he doesn’t know how to describe his frame of mind now.

“Can I…can I ask you for a favor?”

You straddle his lap, wanting every inch of your body to be encased in his heat. “Anything, baby.”

“Can I call you mommy?” He pouts, encircling his arms around your waist. “It helps, you know? W-with, um…with some of these thoughts I have…”

The small bout of silence instantly turns his stomach sour. Did he go too far? Was this not the time to play out the fantasies he had in his head? Before he had the chance to curse himself for ruining the moment, you squirm into his lap. An invitation.

“It’s okay baby,” you reassure him, seeing the stars in his eyes glow even more. He’s ecstatic, in awe even, and if his rapid heartbeat didn’t tell you his adorable expression sure did. “You’re my baby boy.”

He crashes his lips onto your swollen ones and press you down onto the bed. His fingers tangle in your hair first then with your fingers before he pushes your arms above your head, his eagerness resulting in a clumsy effort to find his place between your legs. You giggle and play your part, whispering sweet praises while he tells you how much he loves you, how you’re meant for him, how you’re his soulmate, a lover, a friend, a confidant, a mother.

“Mom-my,” he whimpers, voice cracking. He chants, over and over again, unable to get enough of your caresses and praises. “You make me feel so good, mommy, you’re so beautiful, all mine…mommy…mommy…mommy…”

You feel the sting of his penetration when he impatiently enters, just needing to be inside you and feel your pulse. He’s never looked so surreal above you, face coated with sweat and tears, cheeks as rosy as the first plum blossom in spring. He’s a walking sculpture carved from the loveliest marble. Your needy baby boy, your Jungkookie, your boyfriend with a heart made of glass.

It wasn’t until much later in the morning, when the sun has risen and the rain ceased, that you spend your own time worshipping him. Your heart aches at the thought of someone, especially the parents that were supposed to love and support him, laying their hands on someone so pure and sweet. You think back to the times you asked for his baby pictures or his past and finding him uncomfortably shifting his gaze away or avoiding the subject altogether. It must have been painful for him to endure your interrogations and your passive aggressive behavior; you finally realize now that he wasn’t annoyed with you but was afraid of your judgement. It must’ve been a habit for him to think of the worst-case scenario. He didn’t grow up in a safe place.

Actually, he didn’t grow up with a home at all.

A shack somewhere in Busan with no running water or electricity or a school that was close enough for a child to walk safely to. Just by watching the polite way he spoke to people at his gallery and admiring his ethereally handsome appearance, no one could guess he was a victim of neglect and abuse.

It wasn’t until he brings you to the balcony, where the morning wind blows through his deep chocolate hair and the smell of orange blossoms whisk around your body, that he settles you onto his lap and brings your fingers over the small scar on his cheekbones.

“I think you should know where this came from, noona…”

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Okay, I am late. Sorry! It was supposed to be here on Friday, but then there was a karaoke thingy and a cousin from Australia, and well... Anyway. I hope you guys enjoy it.

This is my first fanfic with this ship, so I’m still trying to get a grasp of them. Without further ado...

Let’s give’em somethin’ to talk about

Matt hadn’t noticed the looks his “teammates” were giving him -logically -but he’d heard the snickers and the urgent whispers that Danny just couldn’t hold in.

“They think we have something.” He realized after a few times it had happened.

Jessica, sitting beside him on the couch, snorted. “Took you long enough to figure it out, Sherlock. Didn’t you notice how Danny keeps looking at us?” She teased.

She was such an asshole sometimes… Matt couldn’t contain a smile. “I think I missed that. How he’s looking at us?”

“Like we’re a basket full of kittens.” She spoke with disgust.

Matt snorted. “Maybe he’s the only one.” He indicated.

“Trust me, Murdock, he isn’t.” She informed him.

“How do you know?” Matt pressed, just to annoy her. Jessica was very observant; if she thought they all had the same impression, she was likely right.

However, Matt liked to poke at the beast every once in a while.

“Luke actually came up to me and said it was nice that we were ‘hanging out’.” By her tone it wouldn’t take a genius to understand that Luke didn’t have the friendly type of ‘hang out’ in his mind.

The thing was… They had been hanging out a lot lately. It started small: Matt referred a client to Jessica one day, then she referred one to him… They started sending people each other’s way, cases they knew the other would take. Then they started having drinks together…

Matt enjoyed spending time with Jessica; she was direct and never treated him with kid gloves. And she had an unpredictable mouth that never failed to amuse him.

But they weren’t together in any way.

“What did you tell him?” Matt asked, more out of curiosity than actual concern.

He might not see but he could practically feel the glare Jessica sent his way. “That we aren’t together. But he just gave me this annoying knowing smirk.” She growled low. “Almost punched him for it.”

Matt chuckled. “So we’re secretly together now?” He teased.

She snorted yet again. “They probably think we're holding back in front of them, but once we're alone all bets are off. You know, clothes tearing, me picking you up…”

“Wait.” He cut the very vivid picture she was painting. “Why are you the one picking me up?” He wanted to know.

He was almost sure she was somewhat smiling now. “Because I'm stronger and I definitely wear the pants on this relationship, Murdock.”

That startled a laughter out of Matt. “In your dreams, Jones.”

“They’re flirting!”

Danny’s voice, coming from the other room, in what Matt imagined was Danny’s version of a whisper, snapped him out of the conversation.

“You’re making that weird face you make when you’re listening to something.” Jessica spoke up.

“I make a face?” He asked.

“Yeah, tilt your head and whatever. What’s up?” She demanded impatient.

“Danny thinks we’re flirting.” He told her.

Jessica huffed. “For fuck’s sake.”

But Matt could understand why it’d look like flirting from the outside. They were sitting quite close, but it was because it was a small couch. And they were facing each other, but it was only because they were talking…

“Don’t worry, Jones. They’ll forget about it eventually. If we try to deny it, it’ll only get worse.” He shrugged.

“That’s your professional advice, counselor? ‘Cause it sucks.” She told him dryly.

Matt just chuckled again.

XxX

Foggy was doing very well on Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz. He wasn’t going to lie: he liked the status and the high-profile cases, and there were some pretty sweet benefits too. However, Foggy had wanted to save the world once.

Logically not like Matt and his new buddies -Foggy didn’t think he’d look good in spandex -but he believed in helping people, and he still believed in the Law, despite a lot of bullshit he’d seen in the last years.

Matt was still out there, doing double shifts trying to save Hell’s Kitchen. Foggy wouldn’t ever be able to say he supported this, but he came to accept it as a part of Matt that wasn’t going away. He was just happy to have his friend back.

They were working together some pro-bono cases. The firm kept Foggy busy as hell, and Matt had his two ‘jobs’ as well, but they still exchanged cases and ran them together.

And it was on a beautiful sunny Sunday, that Foggy made his way to Matt’s to give him some documents on a new case. Foggy knew now that Matt could hear, smell him or something weird of the type even before he was on his floor, so he just used his key and entered Matt’s apartment.

“Matt.” Foggy called as he entered the loft.

“What the hell are you doing here, Nelson?”

Foggy froze, door halfway closed. Was that… “Jessica Jones?” He called uncertain.

He could hear her eyes rolling from the hallway. “Don’t move. I’m not wearing pants.” Her voice had a very serious warning tone to it.

He cleared his throat. “Sure…” Awkward pause. “Is Matt…”

“He’s in the shower.” Jessica informed him.

Oh… Oh! Oh Lord! Karen thought Matt and Jessica were a thing now, but he hadn’t believed her, but… Oh man.

Jessica finally appeared on the hallway, now wearing pants. “What do you want, Nelson?” She demanded.

“I just came to talk to Matt!” He put his hands up in surrender. Jessica scared him quite a bit.

She snorted and went back to the kitchen, he guessed.

Foggy was considering running, when he heard Matt’s voice. “Foggy?”

“Yes.” It came out a bit strangled, but come on!

“One minute.” His friend called back.

He finally got moving and walked to the living room. Jessica was sitting and having toast like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Matt finally came out of his room, wearing sweatpants and a shirt. “Hey, Foggy.” He smiled at his friend. “You brought those documents?”

Foggy cleared his throat. “Yes, they’re here.” He offered them to Matt.

But his friend didn’t pick them up; he inclined his head to the right. “Is something wrong?”

“Absolutely not.” He pushed the paper on Matt’s hand. “But I’m late to meet Marci, so…”

He cut all Matt’s protests and just scampered out of there.

He needed to call Karen.

XxX

“Shit.” Matt groaned.

“Murdock, what is that?” Jessica asked dramatically. “Is that how an altar-boy should be speaking?”

“Shut up, Jones.” He threw at her. “He thinks…”

“That we slept together?” She supplied. She took a bite of her toast, then continued with her mouth full. “You have to admit the evidence is quite damning.”

Matt almost groaned out aloud. It was. He’d heard from the bathroom Jessica telling Foggy she wasn’t wearing any pants.

She’d actually stopped by the night before to discuss a client he’d recommended to her. She also had a client she was referring to him -again -and before he noticed they were drinking and talking and asking for takeout.

Eventually he told her it was too late for her to go home, despite the fact he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

She decided to stay, but plain refused to sleep on his bed. She’d crashed on the couch, and that was it. She’d just woken up before him and got toast. Matt decided to shower because he was smelling like bourbon.

Absolutely nothing happened, but now Foggy…

“You know that this isn’t going to help us convince the others we aren’t together.” He indicated.

“Hey, you’re the one who told me to wait it out.” She reminded him. “I’m just following your professional advice.”

Matt gave her his most unimpressed frown.

XxX

When Foggy called Karen to tell her what he’d seen, she almost squealed.

She’d become close friends with Trish Walker after all that mess in Midland Circle, and they talked a lot about Matt and Jess. Eventually, the conversation turned to how much time the two spent together. Recently they started speculating if they were really together, and how nice it would be if they were.

And now they might be!

Foggy was absolutely sure something had happened between them, but Karen -as a good reporter -demanded more evidence. Logically, she couldn’t go up to Matt and just ask him. She knew him well enough to know he’d clam up pretty fast if she made such an invasive question.

But she would find a way to figure it out.

It turned out, she found her answer without looking for it.

She called Matt Wednesday night to invite him for dinner the next night.

“Hey, Karen.”

She couldn’t contain her smile. “Hey, Matt. How are you?”

“Not bad. How about yourself?”

“I’m fine. I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow night to have dinner with Foggy and me?”

“Yes, it’s been a while since the three of us met.”

She chuckled. “It’s because you’re always with your new, cooler friends now.”

“Nah. You guys are still my favorites.”

“Matt, baby, come back to bed.”

OMG! Wasn’t that Jessica’s voice?

“What the hell, Jessica?” She heard Matt throwing back.

IT WAS HER!

“What? The bed is cold.”

She heard Matt sighing. “Karen, can I call you later?”

“Yes, of course!” She was quick to agree.

She had to call Trish!

XxX

Matt could feel satisfaction rolling out of Jessica in waves. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, Nelson probably told her what he thinks he saw. That’s just something to keep her intrigued.” She shrugged, completely unapologetic.

Matt wasn’t amused at all. “Come back to bed?” He repeated dryly.

She snickered. “It felt like the thing to say.”

Considering they were in her office, he wanted to disagree, but then… “Right thing to say, hm?” He hummed. “Been thinking about me in your bed a lot, Jones?”

That gave her pause, and -for a minute -Matt was worried he’d overstepped. Jessica had triggers he didn’t know yet, and maybe…

“You’re the one who can read my heartbeat, pheromones and aura, Murdock.” She finally threw at him. “You tell me.”

Ok… He wasn’t expecting that answer, but he actually liked it. He liked that Jess could sass him back and wasn’t afraid of doing so.

He made a show of sniffing the air -just to weird her out -then tilt his head to the side, like she’d said he did when he was ‘sensing’ something. “I sense you want me bad.”

Jessica snorted and threw a beer can at him. He grabbed it easily, chuckling.

“You’re ridiculous, Murdock.” She declared.

Yes, but now he had to pay her back in kind.

XxX

Matt wanted to tease Jessica as hard as she’d teased him. However, he had a thing to take into consideration: her personal bubble.

If he was pulling something like that with Foggy or Karen, he’d just lean in and drop a kiss to their forehead or cheek without batting an eyelash. But he couldn’t do that to Jessica; she’d had enough of someone not respecting her body and her will, Matt wouldn’t be another one.

So he kind of wished he could drop a kiss to her temple -get close enough to smell her shampoo -but he wouldn’t. He also wouldn’t analyze why he wanted to do it.

Matt waited for the perfect moment to pay Jessica back for the ‘come back to bed’ comment. Foggy and Karen had gotten impossible after it. He let her believe he’d let it go and waited the right time.

A meeting between the “team”.

(Danny wanted them to have a name, like the Avengers did, but Jessica had said she’d never look at them again if they named themselves.)

He purposely arrived a bit later than everybody else, just to be sure they would all be there to see it. He said ‘hello’ to Claire and Coleen who were closer to the entrance, and tried to locate Jessica. It wasn’t hard, she had a specific spot at the dojo, where they always met. It was the same couch he always sat beside her, and it was exactly where she was then.

And she didn’t have a drink yet.

Perfect.

Matt walked to the kitchenette, where Luke and Danny were debating over pizza or Chinese -again. He talked to them for a few minutes, before grabbing two beers from the fridge and making his way to Jess.

He was acutely aware that the others were avidly watching him to see what he was going to do. Even though he always sat with Jessica, he’d never brought her a drink before. Mostly because she normally drank from her own flask, and only went for beer once it was dry.

“Hey, Jess.” He greeted casually, sitting beside her.

He could feel her looking at him. “Murdock.” Funny how one word could come out with so much mistrust in it.

He grinned at her. “Beer?” He offered innocently, waving the bottle gently.

“Sure.” She drawled.

When she grabbed the bottle, he didn’t let go, he held onto it a bit longer. He wasn’t about to start a tug of war with Jessica -he was pretty sure how it’d end for him -but he just pulled a bit towards himself and felt her tightening her hold.

And to finish it… He leaned into her space, just a bit. “Jess…” His breath fanned her ear, making the lose strands of her hair tremble.

He heard her heart speeding up, and something inside him responded to it, but he pressed forward, after licking his lips. “We’re even.” He informed her, pulling back with a smirk.

He could try to gauge how the others were reacting to the little show, but -to be quite honest -he only cared about one reaction.

“Oh Murdock, you’re on.”

And she never disappointed.

XxX

Jessica didn’t like a lot of people. The number of people she loved was very limited -Trish and Malcom -and there were some she tolerated -Danny was definitely on that list – and some she liked.

She liked Luke. In the beginning it was difficult to look at him and think of all that went wrong there. And she wasn’t going to lie: it’d been hard watching him with Claire. However, Luke was a nice person and Claire was extraordinary; it was hard not liking them. She even liked Coleen, and the girl deserved a medal for willingly putting up with Danny.

And then, there was Matt.

Yeah, she liked him. Not like that, because she was a long way from sixth grade. However… Despite the fact he was a major asshole with a martyr complex that would eventually get him killed -if she didn’t punch him before -he was cool.

In a platonic way.

He was intelligent without being condescending, and good without being sanctimonious. He was also a little shit when he wanted to, like in the last meeting.

She was so paying him back for that one.

Jessica was making her way back to her place after meeting with a client -another cheating spouse -when she saw the man himself across the street. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t that big and it wasn’t that unlikely to run into someone, but the fact that he’d appeared in her way just as she was thinking of him, gave Jessica pause.

She considered ignoring him and just going back to her place, but… When she realized she was already making her way to Matt.

“Murdock.” She called as she came closer.

“Jones.” He replied in the same tone, his mouth already pulling in that stupid grin of his. He had a paper bag on one hand, his cane on the other. 

“You’re thinking you’re really cute, aren’t you?” She threw at him.

“You know, Jones… What I think is that you’ve been thinking about me a lot. In your bed, that I’m cute…”

She snorted. “What I think is that you’re an asshole.”

“So you can make Karen think we’re doing something, but I can’t?”

“You can do whatever you want, if you can take the consequences.” She informed him.

“Careful with all the flirting, Jones. I’m an impressionable catholic man.”

Jessica pressed her lips together to avoid smiling. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could detect that, and she wasn’t about to give him ammunition.

“You’re a pain in my…”

“Matthew!”

Jessica turned to the voice to see an elderly lady coming in their direction. She looked like she was 200 years old, but Jessica decided that might be an exaggeration. She was the exact image of those grandmas they showed in movies, with her cardigan and skirt. Her face was totally wrinkled, her lipstick was bright pink and she walked somewhat hunched, but she didn’t have a cane.

“Mrs. Creagan.” Matt smiled in her general direction. “How are you today?”

“Fine.” She patted him on the shoulder and Matt obediently lowered himself to get kissed on the cheek. “And you? Found a girl yet?”

Matt chuckled. “Are you offering, Mrs. Creagan?” He teased.

“Oh you.” She hit his shoulder, then finally seemed to notice Jessica standing there. “Hello. I don’t know you.”

Jessica cleared her throat. “Jessica Jones.” She offered.

Mrs. Creagan seemed to measure her up for a minute, before giving her a firm nod. “She’ll do. Marry her fast, Matthew, before she realizes she can do better.”

Jessica was looking in shock at the woman, but Matt spluttered a laughter. “And here I thought you liked me, Mrs. Creagan.” He spoke amidst chuckles.

“I would like you more if you settled down.” She told him imperiously.

The woman gave him another firm warning to marry soon, told Jessica to make him behave, before finally leaving.

“Sorry about that.” Matt spoke, a big smile on his face. “She’s a client. I helped her when her landlord tried to kick her out of her apartment.”

“A real charmer.” Jessica chose to say. Then she looked at Matt’s face and grinned. “You have lipstick on your cheek.”

He groaned. “It happens every time.” He admitted.

He was about to pass his bag to the other hand to clean it, when Jessica stopped him. “Wait, or you’ll make it worse.”

Matt paused and waited. Jessica didn’t think much about that, she just lifted her hand to clean it. She passed her thumb over his cheekbone, feeling skin and bone under her digit. In the first sweep she managed to get most of it, but not all.

She cleared her throat. “Wait a second.” She told him, wiping her thumb on her jeans, before going back to his face.

For some reason she’d taken a step forward and so had Matt. She didn’t have to stretch her arm that far this time when she raised her hand. As she ran her thumb over his cheekbone once again, she could swear his breathing shortened. And she felt like she should do something, though she kind of wanted to run far from there, because this…

“Matt?”

“Jess?”

Oh fuck.

There were Trish and Karen, coming from God knows where, both women looking perplexed as they stared at Matt and Jess standing there.

That was when Jessica realized her hand was still in Matt’s face.

Shit.

This story was never going to end.

XxX

Jessica hadn’t planned on any of this, seriously.

Yes, after the whole Karen and Trish thing, she had wanted to annoy Matt a bit -especially because he hadn’t opened his mouth the whole time, letting her explain what they were doing -but not to this extreme.

Besides, she hadn’t planned on Matt getting shot. He was an idiot.

They had gone out as a team -seriously, Danny, they were not going to call themselves Defenders, for fuck’s sake -to take down a group of arms dealers.

And everything was going fine, until Matt -that fucking asshole -decided to get shot.

Fine! Maybe he hadn’t decided to get shot, but he sure as hell hadn’t been careful enough, and Jessica knew he could take better care of himself.

It was just a graze -fortunately -but Claire insisted on checking it. Luke was somewhere talking to Misty on the phone, and Coleen had all but dragged Danny to eat something. That left Jessica with nothing to do as Claire patched Matt up.

Technically she could just go home -the events of the night already ended -but… It was a good opportunity.

Claire didn’t know her all that well, just like Karen didn’t. She’d never have been able to pull that “come back to bed, baby” bullshit with Trish, because Trish knew she wouldn’t go around calling anyone “baby”, much less Matt Murdock. She guessed that Luke wouldn’t buy it either, but Claire…

She might not believe the whole “baby” thing, but she’d probably bite something else.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re actually taking better care of yourself, Matt.” Claire was saying as she finished wrapping the wound. “I mean, you got shot, but it’s still better than before. At least you’re accepting help.”

“Luke told me he’d carry me here if I didn’t come on my own.” Matt told her dryly.

Claire chuckled. “It still counts. All done.” She declared.

It was her moment to shine, Jessica decided.

She took a deep breath, before moving and saw Matt tilting his head to the side. The asshole was probably feeling in the air she was up to something.

She walked up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently. Claire’s eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline.

“Does that mean he’s free to go home?” Jessica asked Claire, her voice beyond casual.

Claire was looking very unimpressed. “You’re taking him home?” She asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Jessica shrugged, then ran her fingers across Matt’s nape.

His whole body shuddered. Both Claire and Jessica looked at him, but he just cleared his throat and didn’t comment.

“You know what?” Claire decided, standing up and removing her gloves. “I don’t want to know. He’s free. Bye.”

She basically bolted.

“Seriously, Jessica?” Matt sighed.

“What?” For some weird reason, his shudder had disconcerted her, and her reaction was downright bizarre: she messed his hair, like he was ten.

Matt slapped her hand away without any heat. “She didn’t buy it for a second.” He informed Jessica.

“I don’t care if she did.” Jessica told him. “I got to embarrass you. And…” She drawled. “I found your weak spot.”

Matt snorted. “No, you didn’t.”

She casually ran her fingers across his nape again.

“Jessica!”

“Weak spot, Lucifer.”

XxX

Matt was a mature adult.

He should not be doing this.

He was better than this.

He was a lawyer! He wasn’t a frat boy.

This was all Jessica’s fault.

He wasn’t going to lie: she’d caught him with the physical contact. And not only the one she initiated in front of Claire, the other one too.

He hadn’t expected her to touch his face the way she’d done that day on the street, in plain daylight, without anyone around them to impress. And he was aware that Trish and Karen had seen it, but he knew she hadn’t done it for their benefit; she’d been as surprised as him by their appearance. (In an unrelated note, he couldn’t believe he’d been so distracted by Jessica he hadn’t noticed their approach! It was Karen! He normally could pick her up from much farther).

But with the Claire thing… Yeah, Jessica had indeed found his weak spot.

And damn it! It had pushed his buttons. She pushed his buttons. All the time.

This was getting strange, mostly because he wasn’t sure what to think. He liked Jessica, he just didn’t know exactly how. Before all this started, he thought it was just friendly. The same way he liked Luke or Danny. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Was he attracted to her? He could be honest and say he was. She was a vibrant woman; so much life and power, but also such kindness behind all of that. She was a good person, even if she would punch him for saying so. Yes, she was a mess, and she had a list of problems as long as his -perhaps longer.

All of that just made her an even more remarkable person, and Matt had no problem admitting that. Exactly because of it, he was attracted to her. It wasn’t just because of her voice -he thought it sounded sexy -or her smell -her shampoo was coconut, but she always smelled like whisky and leather and it kind of worked for him too -or because she was so damn smart-mouthed. It was a mix of everything she was, and everything she faced, and how she came out still a good person.

Matt might be a goner. He wasn’t so sure how he felt about it or how to proceed at this point. He was pretty sure he couldn’t just go to her and ask for a date. It sounded way too easy and he had an impression that “easy” didn’t work for Jessica.

Besides… He still owed her for that last stunt, and he really wanted to repay it.

Fortunately, the opportunity came to him in the shape of Malcom.

He went to her office with somewhat pure intentions (that’s to say he didn’t go there with the intention of teasing her, but open to the possibility).

He heard Malcom’s voice from the hallway, discussing the theft of a Pomeranian with Jess.

Matt had met Malcom before, since he’d visited Jess’ office previously. He thought the young man was a good friend to Jess, even if she liked to pretend she couldn’t care less about him. However, Matt knew she was highly protective of Malcom, because he’d heard her threatening a client who’d treated the boy badly.

So Malcom was about to be treated to a show.

Poor guy.

Matt gave a perfunctory knock on her door, before entering her space. “Jess?”

“Hey, Murdock.”

Matt waved in her direction, then turned to Malcom and offered his hand. “Hello, Malcom.”

The other man shook his hand. “Hi, counselor.”

Matt gave him a smile, before showing Jessica the bag he had in hand. “I brought you some food, ‘cause I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Right…” She drawled, clearly starting to get suspicious of his solicitude.

Smart woman.

He went around the table, walking right up to her, and stopping quite close. He could sense that Jessica was tense, but it wasn’t in panic; she was expecting his move.

He put the bag on her table, then leaned in a bit -not too much so she’d feel caged, but enough to be in her space.

“Murdock…” There was a warning in her voice, but still no panic.

Good. He wasn’t doing this to scare her, and now she clearly knew he was up to something.

He gave her his most charming smile. “What? No kiss?”

The silence that followed was deafening, but it was a thing of beauty.

“What?” She spluttered.

“Malcom won’t mind.” He continued.

“I…” Malcom started, then stopped and Matt decided Jessica was glaring at the boy.

“I swear to God, Murdock…”

“Jessica.” He tsked her. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”

That was about the last thing he managed to say with a straight face.

“You asshole!” Jessica punched his shoulder.

“Ouch.” He knew she hadn’t used a third of her strength, but it was still quite a punch.

“And I’m out.” Malcom smartly decided.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jessica called, clearly not happy to be left alone with Matt in the moment.

“I’m suffocating with all this sexual tension.” Malcom told her, throwing his hands up. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Matt and Jess in a very awkward situation.

“There’s no…”

“Shut up, Murdock.” She snapped without real heat. “You’re on my blacklist now.”

He gave her a beatific smile, just because. “There’s nowhere I rather be.”

She punched his shoulder again.

XxX

This had gone far enough; Jessica was going to put an end to it.

To the crazy beating of her heart. To the giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The desire she had to smile back every time that fucker grinned that stupid grin of his.

This was getting out of control and she was feeling vulnerable.

Jessica hated feeling like this.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him; she did, and it actually made it worse. Matt was one of the last decent men on the whole planet. He’d never purposely do something to upset her, he’d be nice when he said “no, thank you”.

And she was positive it was what he’d say. He might have fun teasing her -he was such a smartass -but that’s what it was. Friendly teasing.

She did not feel bitter about it.

He deserved much better than a screw up like her, who always ruined her relationships. Only God knew why Trish and Malcom had stuck around.

She worried she’d get too involved and mess things up. Or that he’d somehow notice it and very politely tell her he wasn’t interested.

She did not want to have this conversation with him.

Her feet carried her to his place automatically; it was ridiculous how used she was to this path. It looked like in no time at all she was by his front door.

The asshole opened it before she could even knock. “Hey, Jess.” He smiled at her.

How could she want to kiss and punch someone at the same time?

“We need to talk, Murdock.” She declared, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He frowned. “Is something wrong? Come on in.”

As he gave her space to enter his apartment, Jessica hesitated. She kind of wanted to say things and leave so she could get properly drunk.

Matt’s frown deepened in face of her hesitance. “Jess?”

Why did he have to make that face? She might be a bitch, but she wasn’t that much of one.

She huffed, but entered. The door closing behind her made her nervous, but not panicked in a way she’d have to start muttering street names.

It hadn’t felt this complicated with Luke -and fuck, that had been complicated.

“Jess, I’m getting worried here. What’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath. “Game over, Murdock. No more of that bullshit.”

Matt seemed caught out of guard for a second. “Well… Of course. If you can’t take the heat…” He teased lightly.

Jessica snorted. “From you, Satan?”

“Just saying, Jones…” He shrugged. “Maybe my charms are proving too hard to resist.”

Jessica put as much nonchalance as she could in her voice. “Yeah, right.”

Matt leaned his head to the right.

Oh fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I stopped by to say that, and…”

“Jess.” He called serious. “Wait.”

Her heart went into overdrive at the same time heat spread across her body. This was his serious voice, the one he used when he meant business.

Matt walked up to her, stopping a few steps away. “I’ll tell you something, and you can tell me if it’s crossing a line. Ok?”

She just nodded.

“I want to kiss you.” He told her. “For real. Not because I want to tease you -even though I like that too.”

Jessica was frozen in shock.

“I want to kiss that smart mouth of yours.” Matt pressed gently. “I thought a lot about it.”

“You want to kiss me?” She repeated, still somewhat befuddled.

“And take you out. On a date.” He added. “I’d like to take you out for dinner, but I’d be okay with drinks too.”

“Date? You and me?” She asked, just to check.

Matt chuckled. “Yes, us.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Are you pulling one on me?”

“No. Can I take your hand?” He waited until she offered it. “Here.” He put her hand over his heart. “What do you feel?”

Steady strong beats. He wasn’t nervous, he was sure about his. He wasn’t lying.

“So…” Jessica drawled. “Bottom line is: you want me. Bad.”

Matt snorted. “In very simple terms… yes. But the question is… Do you want me too?”

He raised his hand carefully, catching the zipper of her jacket between his fingers.

It was a ridiculous question. He probably could tell by her body’s pheromones or something like that. Her heart was beating a crazy tattoo inside her chest: he had to be able to hear that.

But he was still asking, because he wanted the choice to be hers. He wanted her to be sure.

And Jessica was still pretty sure this was going to go wrong -probably because of her- but fuck it all! She wanted to this and she wanted him so much it was scary, but what if…

What if this could work?

She sighed dramatically, like she couldn’t care less. “I guess you’ll do.”

He opened that devilish grin of his. “Oh, I will.” It was a promise.

Matt put his hands on Jessica’s waist and pulled her closer. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Jessica put her arms around his neck. “I’m waiting, counselor.”

She could feel his smile pressed against her lips. His were chapped, but it still thrilled her.

Their first kiss was undeniably soft, just a press of lips. She got dizzy on his smell, on the feel of his stubble against her delicate skin.

He pulled her flush against him, and Jessica licked his lower lip.

What had she said before about all bets being off?

Matt’s hands grabbed her ass and pulled her up. “Shit!” Jessica cursed, startled by the move. The idiot just chuckled as he carried her the few steps to his table and settled her on top of it.

“I thought I’d be the one picking you up, Murdock.” She teased.

“Next time.” He promised before kissing her again, and this time…

This time he sank his hands on her hair and kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her. He pressed their lips together, teased her mouth open with his tongue, and then he just…

He took her breath away and Jessica tried to hold on for dear life, pulling him tighter against her body, cradling him between her legs.

Matt pressed a longer kiss to her lips and pulled back minimally. “The jacket and the gloves need to go.” He informed her.

Jessica snorted. “The same goes for the tie, smart-ass.”

“Race you.” He told her with that stupid grin.

Jessica just snorted again as she took off her own jacket. By the time she’d let it drop to the floor, Matt had already flung his tie far away and had to wait for her to get rid of the gloves.

His hands went back to her waist, playing with the hem of her tank top. “Can I?”

And the fact that he was asking, even though it was quite obvious she wanted it, made her like him a little bit more than she already did.

“I think I said ‘clothes tearing’.” It was the only warning she gave him before grabbing his shirt and pulling it open, making buttons fly in every direction.

That startled a laugh out of him. “You’re on, Jones.”

She was pretty sure she heard something ripping for real when he pulled her tank top off, but she didn’t care, because a bit after he popped the buttons of her jeans open, slid his hand inside it and then…

She lost any connection with the real world.

XxX

“You ask them.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who’s curious.”

“But what if she punches me?”

Luke had to hold in his laughter, and Coleen didn’t look impressed

“You’re the Immortal Iron Fist.” Claire indicated reasonably. “You can do this.”

Danny sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask.”

The others -Luke, Coleen and Claire -watched from their place, as Danny approached Matt and Jessica. They were sitting on the same couch as always, but there was something different.

They were sitting closer. Jessica was drinking just beer. Matt was laughing and she was smiling.

“Hey, guys.”

Both turned to Danny. “Pulled the shorter straw, Randy?” Jessica drawled.

Oh yeah… Matt could probably hear them…

“So… Are you guys together or not?” Danny pressed forward, since they already knew what he wanted to know.

Matt wasn’t sure if he should answer that, or how he should say it.

But Jessica saved him. “We are. And it’s none of your business how, when and why.” She informed Danny.

Apparently, that was enough for Danny, because he was already celebrating and congratulating them.

Matt chuckled, then held Jessica’s hand, while Danny spoke a mile a minute, obviously ignoring Jessica’s previous comment.

She squeezed his hand back and Matt once again marveled at her, at them.

He would miss finding ways to tease Jess.

Unless… How much PDA would it take to make their friends sweat a bit?

Hum…

Notes: So... Feelings?

[obliviatemick]

Ben Hardy Fanfiction | When I Kissed You p. 7.

CHAPTER SEVEN: HELLO, STRANGER.

PLAYLIST: blazed - Ariana Grande.

WORD COUNT: 1761.

BARBARA'S POV.

"I can't believe it!", it was around 2 pm in Amsterdam and I was talking on the phone with Cole. "It was like reliving that night in New York. EVERY.LITTLE.DETAIL"

The dream/déjà vu about Ben had made of me a nervous mess. Of course, I had thought that night with Ben (several times, in fact), but none of my memories were that... vivid. In my dream I'd felt him once more: his skin, his lips, everything. For some reason, my dumb brain took this as a warning, a sign that something big was about to happen. The question was: what?

"It's normal!", his voice blasted through the speaker, there was a buzz of people speaking in the background, probably photographers and models. He spoke as if he found the whole situation very amusing. "Having those dreams is a pretty common thing in women like you and 12 year olds. It's biology, Barbara."

"Women like me? What does that mean?"

"Unsatisfied", he stated, a smile on his voice.

"Wha- the fact that he's the first guy I've slept with in months has absolutely nothing to do with me having those dreams and also-", in the line, he was laughing his ass off at my expense. "Cole, listen!!"

"Look, I'm just saying that you had a good time with an attractive guy whose greek profile and sculpted body were saved by your subconscious just to give him to you when you need a certain... stimulation." He made a pause, I heard him blowing his cigarette. "Your dream means absolutely nothing. "

I bit my lip, unsure of what to believe. On one side, I had my bff giving me unsolicited biology facts and on the other side I had sweaty hands, an upset tummy and not to mention the need of looking over my shoulder every two damn seconds. I was going crazy. Whatever it was, I decided to give Cole the benefit of the doubt. "I guess you're right..."

"The hell I am, now-", he made a pause to take another drag of his cigarette. "Could you stop whining about wet dreams and enjoy your moment of glory?", in the background, the clamour of conversation stopped swiftly. "Oh", I shut my eyes, embarrassed.

"Did you... have to say that out loud?"

⭐

My agent was already waiting for me in arrivals, even though we were supposed to meet thirty minutes later. The blonde, round woman was stomping her way to me, her cheeks looked rosy pink and tiny beads of sweat were glued to her forehead. She pulled me by the arm as soon as she laid hands on me.

She explained that the producers had changed the schedule and that instead of having a private table read with the cast, we would be doing a press conference with lots of media to report on it. Which meant I had to answer a lot of questions about my character in front of the whole country!

"Countries, darling", she corrected me. "This is a Netflix series; the whole world will be watching you"

I felt sick.

We hopped in a car I assumed was hers (if not: what a nonchalant way of stealing a car, Amber. Damn!) and drove 10 kilometres to the speed of an overstressed Amber to the building where the production team and the rest of the cast were already waiting for us.

When we arrived, I looked around and saw that everyone else was dressed in far better, not as casual outfits. I cocked my head to give Amber an alarmed look, but she was already directing orders to a pair of stylists that came to my rescue. One of them worked my hair while the other did my make-up and I wondered how the hell could they put up with so much pressure! They put me in a black dress that had see-through sleeves and a puffy skirt and matched it with white stilettos. In a normal situation, that would have felt like too much, but considering I would be in front of cameras from hundreds of countries... it felt just right.

My hands started sweating as I stood near the entrance of the stage, my stomach churned with both my nervousness and the odd feeling from before. It was getting worse with every minute that passed. I peeked to the room where the conference would be held and OMG, without counting cameramen, at least two hundred people were sitting there in front of the stage! I started worrying about puking in front of all those cameras and news reporters.

A raven-haired girl appeared from the side and patted me on the shoulder, she was wearing a gorgeous red dress with matching lipstick and white pumps.

"Is this your first time doing press?", she spoke with a feminine, kind of high-pitched voice.

I sighed and nodded. She smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around my shoulders

"It'll be okay, we've all been there", she chirped. "And to be honest, these things are very short! There's nothing to worry about, you'll see", she winked at me before stepping away.

Seconds after, the whole producing crew entered the stage through a door located just in front of ours. I breathed deeply and tried to mentally prepare for what was about to come. After presenting himself and the crew, Zach, the casting director, invited us to stage, a man in his forties with greying hair, beard and hard blue eyes winked at me as the whole cast walked to get our seats at the pannel.

A roar of clapping and cheering flooded the room as soon as we put a foot on the stage and GOD walking that stage felt like ages! I waved to the public and tried to give them my best imnotnervous smile before finally sitting at the table with my colleagues. To my right sat the black haired girl and then to her right was the rest of the cast. The only empty seat was on my left, I figured it would be for the actor who'd play Rowan.

"You look very concentrated today, Barbara", one of the writers said on the mic. "Are you preparing yourself for the shooting tomorrow on set?"

"Actually I was just trying not to fall on these damn heels!", I declared and then quickly shut my mouth. I couldn't believe I'd just said that in front of cameras. To my surprise, everyone in the room laughed, my co-stars, the writers, even some cameramen. Wtf?!

"Just be sure not to sprain an ankle, Barbara!" he pointed a finger at me but he smiled. "We'll need you in one piece for the next three months..."

"Roger that!"

The writer then gave the floor to Zach, the casting director who started giving some background for our characters and asking questions about how we felt related to them. During this time, I got to know my cast mates a bit more, they were friendly and WAAAY fun! Their jokes and great attitude helped me feel better and confident up on stage, I was sure we would be a great team. But... where was the other guy?

"Now, I believe this is the moment everyone has been waiting for", Zach started and everyone cheered. It was time. "My team and I have postponed this announcement for months, but there is a reason to it", he made a pause to approach our table. "As you can see, we did our best to collect the best of the best. Only the best candidates for the roles were the chosen ones for the titanic effort that bringing Fiber to life means! Like we did with Farren's role (little Barbara here), we thoroughly analysed every candidate for Rowan's role until we found the perfect match, both physically and mentally..."

I could feel the expectation growing in the room, all eyes were locked on Zach's face, following his every movement. I sat up straight and whispered to the black-haired girl, whose name I'd learned was Emeraude.

"Do you know who got that role?"

"Are you joking? I was about to ask the same thing!"

Marcus, the blue-eyed man joined in, speaking through his teeth, "It's top secret, rumour has it only Zach and the book's author know who he is..."

"I just hope he's handsome", Emeraude purred grinning and raising her eyebrows in a seductive manner. Marcus and I snorted.

"... through all the possibilities, we came to the conclusion that the one person who could bring Rowan to life is him. From X-Men: Apocalypse and Bohemian Rhapsody, please welcome the talented Ben Hardy!"

In a milisecond, the crowd around me went bananas and my soul left my body. People were cheering and whistling while for me the room spun at wild angles, they clapped and stomped their feet and I supressed a scream. Please, be other Ben Hardy, please be other Ben Hardy!

But there he was, walking straight to the empty seat next to me, looking like a model taken out of a magazine cover, that damned blond, green-eyed bastard! Because fuck me right?! After all I'd been through to avoid him... He glanced at me and instantly looked away, as if he hadn't even noticed my presence.  I took a gulp from my water bottle, trying to hide my discomfort.

"Finally!", Zach was beaming, a few more cheers erupted from the crowd. "Ben, what does it feel like to be the chosen one for the job?"

"Oh, it's an honour!", he stated with that deep voice of his. "It's just crazy, knowing that I was the chosen one when you had other thousand actors, good actors, willing to take on this role. It blows my mind!"

"Yeah, and then there's the fact that you didn't have to lie to get this role", both Ben and the crowd laughed at this comment, even some of my cast mates did. I didn't get it.

After a few more interchanges between them, Zach gave the floor to the reporters who'd been patiently waiting for Ben to appear.

"A question for Mr. Hardy, yes!", a reporter with glasses stood up. "What are your expectations of working with Miss Benavides as her character's love interest?"

Shit.

"Uhh, well..."

"Did you two know each other before today? Have you talked about..." (hey, only one question! Someone reprimanded the reporter)

"No!", we answered in unison. Our eyes met for a split second before Ben returned his attention to the reporter. "This is the first time we meet."

TAGLIST: @rrrogahtaylahhhh @valeriecarolinaw

Thank y’all for reading!

Let me know if you’d like me to put you on the taglist!

[yeonjuins]

i hope you had a really good birthday !!! and you got nice gifts and you had a great sleep <3 basically my reaction when i turned 18, i was like ooh i can do new stuff now !! i can get a tattoo, i can see an 18 film (our cinema ratings are different to most places, 12, 15 & 18 films basically mean you have to be that age to view/buy)

i finally started to feel better during the middle of this week but i've had really bad side effects from the antibiotics so i was dealing with that all week :( i feel like my week off has flown by and i'm working tomorrow—kinda miss work but can't be bothered getting up in the morning for it lmao

i'm so excited, i'm gonna get a custom built pc but my s/o is gonna build it for me bc he's all technical and good with computers. he's basically my IT guy when i have computer issues lol 😂 as long as it can run photoshop and my games, i'll be very happy :)))

oh no definitely don't text people half asleep, i should make that note myself, i make zero sense 💀 i dream a lot, my dreams are sometimes very vivid, so if i nap and i wake up half asleep, i'm usually in a very weird mode where i can still feel my dream if that makes sense? like it feels like it's still happening and i'm still dreaming. o.o

i mean, i can understand that, i've been in that position where i've been on medication and stopped taking it bc i felt better or something stopped happening— just make sure if it ever comes back to get yourself checked out <3

what even is a summer blanket. we have a duvet that's SUPPOSED to keep us cool in the summer and does it? ABOLUTELY NOT o.o that's so cute AWW i'm happy it keeps you warm. i think i have 4 blankets. i have a pusheen one, a star constellations one, a red one that the cats use & a grey fluffy one with reindeers :')

I WATCHED THE MOVIE AND IT WAS SO GOOD </3 i sobbed.....as always.......

(lengthy response!)

omg i rlly hope u feel better by the time u respond to this ask ;; i also cannot be bothered to get up in the morning <- took a huge nap today because i slept at like 3am and had to get up at 7am <3 i hope u were able to get up in the morning ;; i'm able to get up but just not go to sleep yanno? the struggle is real with sleep rn honestly (":

!!! custom built pcs omg that's so fun ;; i feel like the market should be fine for customs? i know during peak covid prebuilds were actually better because of covid prices and uh . other corrupt capitalistic things i will not go into <3 so i ended up just getting a prebuilt gaming pc.... the funniest part is that i don't even play games ! PAHAHHA i legit just wanted a quick running pc that can run all my adobe programs and my lord... does it do that and even more <3 (i can run 5 adobe programs at once with performance being perfectly fine on each program) very happy with this purchase and i hope ur pc comes together all well my love (:<

god speaking of texting people half asleep, i feel like it also ALTERS MY DREAMS? i legit was talking about this with a mutual earlier but i ended up dreaming about me having an assignment in class where we had to cover nct u's 'ok' AND I COULDN'T DO IT ? AND I WAS SO EMBARASSED? AND I HAD TO BE COMFORTED AND EVERYTHING AND I WAS LEGIT . WILLING TO MOVE OUT THE COUNTRY BECAUSE I WAS THAT EMBARASSED ADSHKM

i know what exactly you mean... i feel like dreams are only rlly retained within the last part of you sleeping and that's how you're able to remember it ? but don't quote me on that i am no dream scientist </3

i'm guessing a summer blanket is just a really light blanket ? so instead of overheating you, it just covers you and is supposed to cool you down ? i swear i remember having one before and i thought it was godly to use....

TURNING RED WAS REALLY CUTE ! i watched it w my friends and IRONICALLY ME AND MY FRIEND BEGAN CRYING AT THE PART WHERE LIKE . THE KPOP BOYS (they're not kpop boys but in my mind they are the equivalent to it) CAME OUT WHILE THEY WERE TRYING TO SAVE HER MOM AND IT WAS SO FUNNY ASHODIKMLW

[hauntedbasementfury]

Not today morn or last night

Yesterday and day before yesterday night was bad

I kept asking a lot of questions and during my sleep I got all my answers. Well not like an entity came down from above and talked to me, I unlocked memories I forgot about LOL

Which was me in college crying to sleep every day omg RIP worst days of my life, I forgot alllll about it

I was rly lonely so I wished somebody loved me every night while I fell asleep crying

Anyway in 2014 I had a bad run in with that one guy sooo my wish didnt turn out well

I guess I kept wishing, I dont remember

So I got my answer why everything's happening to me

Now I realize I need to stop wishing LMAO god doesnt understand my customized wishlist!! LMAO! Crei

Anyway the dream was so bad m so real I felt like I was in that moment again. It was soooo vivid I woke up crying and my chest hurt from the sadness!!! Anyway it was rly bad. And i was so tired and exhausted from those vivid dreams that i slept until 5pm yesterday!!!!! Crazy day omg.. well it was a bad day. But a Eureka moment bc all the answers I was seeking was within me all along. I just had bad memory QQ which is unfortunate bc I used to have almost photographic memory. Once in high school I had a spanish vocabulary quiz after lunch n I forgot about it until lunch so I was like O DAM and then swish swish swish I memorized everything n went to class n got a 100 then the next day the teacher made me stand up and tell my class my good studying habits bc I got the highest grade n I had to make up a lie about how I wrote notes n color coded it bc she didnt know I studied 1 hr before class n I didnt want to let her down LMAOOO LMAO

[bookedandbusythough]

Answer the questions and then tag 8 people!

-thanks to my love @house-arya for tagging me! Tumblr would be nothing without you! <3 <3 - tagging all my boos: @padmesgreene @jewishstarks @gendryatrash @miladyaryastark @valiantnedspreciouslittlegirl @hunterthewriterworld <3 @insomniarama @asongoftarthandlannister @buttercuparry @eggo-my-leggo @furious-winter  and of course whoever else wants to do this!

-> What made you sign up to Tumblr? Definitely JUST to siphon up all the GENDRYA content! 

-> What did your blog start off as being? idk basically what it is now, except I didn’t have all you fabulous darlings as friends! and also it was mainly arya x gendry week stuff, can’t wait for it to be all that again!

-> Have you ever received any creepy asks, and if so, what did they say? no, is that a thing? -> Have you ever had a bad experience on tumblr? not yet! someone rated my aesthetic low, but i was asking for it since i don’t have the energy to make my blog as pretty as all you have yours!

-> If you had to pick a favourite English monarch, who would you pick? omg idk enough about them all, but i’m going to cheat and say Elizabeth II just because I’m watching The Crown right now and Matt Smith is hot af and the Queen is a badass. Also Queen Elizabeth I from what I do know about her. But mainly does Princess Diana count? -> Do you prefer hot or cold? COLD -> Do you have a special skill or talent? Writing??? At least I like to think so... -> Do you have a phobia of anything? Those I love dying

-> If you had to pick a favourite real life villain from history, who would you pick? ummmm, i wish there was a list, give me a list. @house-arya ‘s answer Rasputin was pretty interesting. I cheated and googled a list and then laughed out loud when I saw Scalia was on there. So I guess him. Even though I hated his policy views, his writing left nothing to be desired, except maybe less. lmao -> Do you have any dark traits? I don’t know. I’m horrible at breaking up with people. Once I’m done with someone, I’m absolutely done. I can like go from being in love with them one day to a complete lack of feeling for them the next. Once I’m done. I think that’s pretty dark. -> If you could do anything, literally anything, like fly on a unicorn or something, what would it be? probably go back in time. which is sad. but it’s fine. not sad, probably have like a TARDIS so I could go on doctor who-like adventures but still get all my shit done -> What is the scale of the worst argument you’ve ever had? omg pick one. I’m crazy so all my arguments are over the top. My poor boo thang...but probably any fight with him. We’re both way too extra soooo -> What is your favourite slush flavour? that light white cherry one at the target cafe... -> If you could bring back any food or drink from your childhood that has been discontinued, what would it be? Trix yogurt, do they still sell that??? -> What is your favourite and most vivid childhood memory? When my siblings and I used to play pretend, from Power Rangers to Jurassic Park, even made up our own TV shows and acted them out, so mainly that -> If you could bring anyone back from the dead who would it be? I shouldn’t, but my friend who died 12 years ago. I would.

-> If you could go back to any time period and live there for a week, which period would it be and why? Renaissance? Just when Paris first became THE capital maybe. I’m not really sure. I’m not being very creative with my answers. But like Paris for sure some time way back in time. -> If you could visit any abandoned place to take pictures, where would it be? Titanic? Or any castle. -> Do you have any particular, peculiar interests? ummmm i’d like to say i had any interests outside of the fandoms I blog about but that would not, strictly speaking, be true. :/ -> Do you have a creepy/scary experience that has happened to you, and what was it? when i was like 10 or 11 years old, my family and i all lived in this one story house in san diego. it was like midnight, and everyone was asleep except for my older brother. he was reading one of those x-files books when he suddenly heard a noise like scratching/knocking on his room window. he was freaked out and ran to wake my parents out. my dad went outside with a flashlight and baseball bat screaming to scare whoever was out there and actually saw someone running away. they called the police but never caught who it was. we all slept in my parents room for the next like 2 months after that. i mean, there was someone staring in at my brother through the window and touching the window while he was reading x-files. is there anything creepier?

-> Do you like/read creepypasta stories? If so, what’s your favourite story? what is that?? -> If you were in the Wars of the Roses, would you be a Lancastrian, or a Yorkist? only because my friend @house-arya said a York, so am I! -> What is your recurring nightmare? i keep having recurring dream...well they’re not all the same dream, but it’s like my latest one takes place where my last one left off where i’m still in school and i either keep missing class or assignments and there’s a constant feeling i’m going to fail the entire semester. since i haven’t been in school for way more than a year now, i don’t understand why this is still happening. -> Have you ever had a lucid dream? i don’t think so, but i wouldn’t mind one. -> If you could go to another planet, which would it be? Venus. Or the moon.  ->What is your religion, if any? Baptized Catholic, but I don’t practice anymore for various reasons. -> Have you ever got so drunk, that you did something really embarrassing, and if so, what did you do? omg we did trivia at a a brewery last night, then went to in n out and my friend and I wanted to get into a fight with this group of obnoxious teenagers sitting nearby who were totally judging us for being loud. but i almost always do something embarrassing when i drink because i’m such a lightweight. -> Mike, Dustin, Lucas, or Will? LUCAS FOR LIFE <3 <3 <3

-> Do you like Marina and the Diamonds? i think i’ve heard of them? but can’t think of any one song? -> Charli XCX? there was that one popular catchy song i liked, but i don’t remember the name, but yes? -> Tag a blog that you’ve seen, and you love their posts, but have never told them, and would like to talk to them. i would say @valiantnedspreciouslittlegirl but i think i’ve already sufficiently embarrassed myself enough telling her basically what a goddess she is, especially in terms of her stories. but there’s also @gendrie who just writes the best analysis/meta (are those the rights words?) about gendrya. i literally end up smiling like an idiot every time I read a @gendrie post about gendrya. <3 <3 <3 to the 2 of you! -> Pick one thing you like/love from the 80s. the movie Psycho II. is that weird? -> What year were you born, and name something cool from that year. I’m going with @house-arya on this one and am going to say “me” too!

-> What was your blog name originally? (If you had another blog name) that was you?! @house-arya omg! that’s cray, i never realized! but i’ve never changed mine! -> Do you follow any blogs that you know the user in real life? Haha, no. No wait. My sister. She’s a bitch though, so it’s fine. @crimsonramirez -> If you are in the ST fandom, which is your favourite song off the ST soundtrack? omg i thought that stood for star trek until I saw @house-arya‘s answer (sorry to keep tagging you). but same answer as her, should i stay or should i go. -> Finally, give your opinion on the person who tagged you! ✨ I KNOW I GUSH ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME BUT LITERALLY TUMBLR WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT YOU AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT MY LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN WITHOUT ARYAXGENDRY WEEK BUT OMG YOUR BLOG IS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE AND YOU KNOW THAT BUT SOMEHOW I CAN’T STOP TELLING YOU! <3 <3 <3

[xsredaj]

My dream started with me finding Wife in the other bedroom, sitting up on top of the bed, which looked like it had been slept in. Something seemed off, but I couldn’t place it. I asked her what’s up, what’s going on, and she said nothing. I let it go and the dream moved on. I found myself at work. I stepped out to use the bathroom, and when I came back a coworker told me that Wife was just there with the baby looking for me. It was a pleasant surprise, and I figured Wife would come back soon, she probably just decided to walk around outside for a bit. Finally Wife came back to see me at work, but the stroller and sling were empty. Something had put me in a bad mood by then, so I asked where Baby was, Baby is already a day old and I still haven’t seen Baby, and she said that she bumped into my mom while walking around outside and my mom took Baby. Wife said she said something to my mom (I can’t remember what) and my mom just laughed at her and said she didn’t love her, which made me mad because my mom treated Wife so kindly before. It’s already established she (and my dad) don’t approve our marriage, but she doesn’t have to be so mean to Wife. I’m losing patience now, but Wife says there’s something else she has to tell  me. She tells me how she wasn’t able to sleep the night before, so she was just awake on her phone when there was a knock at the front door. She went to answer it and it was someone we knew (I can’t remember if it’s someone we know irl or just someone we knew in dream). She paused for a long time and I was like and...? Then Wife said they had sex... multiple times. Suddenly the first scene of Wife in the other bedroom makes sense and I collapse to my knees, crying omg in anguish and my heart is breaking and I’m thinking do I stay with Wife for the sake of Baby or not because it hurts too much and I can’t deal with this pain again.

Then I wake up irl literally crying and sobbing and Wife is trying to calm me down and coax me back to reality, which even once that happens, the heartache still feels real and it keeps me from being able to fall back to sleep. The dream was that vivid. The dream might’ve been influenced by Ruby Rose, who Wife and I saw last night when we were watching Resident Evil: The Final Chapter. Alluding back to a conversation we had recently, Wife pointed out that Ruby Rose is like me, hence her type when it comes to her attraction to women, so I started teasing Wife about discovering who her celebrity crush is. I’m not the jealous type, unless someone gives me a reason to be jealous (like when Janet purposely did it to fuck with me, or when my gut tells me something isn’t right and I find out later my instincts were correct, because you know when your s/o is cheating but you keep telling yourself it’s not true). Wife, on the other hand, does get jealous, although she is very secure in our relationship. Even joking about any of my celebrity crushes can be touchy, so I just don’t. According to Wife, maybe I do have some jealousy issues subconsciously. But really, I think what’s really in my subconscious is the fear of being betrayed again, the way Marianne betrayed me, but Wife and don’t talk about Marianne because whenever we have, it didn’t end well.