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minhosimthings · 3 months ago

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Heaven and Back || SJY, PSH || 18+

In which you buy leashes for your favourite pup and kitten.

Pairings: kittyHybrid!Sunghoon × puppyHybrid!Jake × sugarmommy!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, hoon and Jake are hybrids, not much hybrid stuff just tails and ears, dom!reader, sub!JakeHoon, threesome, anal sex, p in v, double penetration, oral (f and m), leashes (on JakeHoon), degradation, praise, swearing, choking, breath play, masturbating (m), reader is Jakehoon's sugar mommy, unprotected sex (not for you), edging, cumming inside, use of 'mommy', includes Yunjin of Lessreafim, reader is LOADED

A/N this is most probably the longest smut I've ever written and the subbiest smut I've written too lol. Shout out to my irl bestie for very nicely instructing me about leashes (he nearly killed me). This is specially dedicated to my beloved unhinged murder kitten child @jaeyunluvr. So I hope she likes this! And I hope you all love this too! Ciao my babies💖

Song Rec: Heaven and Back by Chase Atlantic

Word count: 8K (my apologies in advance)

“Whose great idea was it to visit this place again?” Yunjin tilted her head back at you, “Because I am never leaving.”

“Freak.” You chuckled, running your hand through some soft foam objects of whose purpose you had no idea, “And it was my great idea, thank you very much.” Yunjin turned to you holding up a million scrunchies in her hands.

“Buy these for me.” She said with a dead-pan face making you burst into laughter, “Oh come on, you’re rich enough,” She looked greedily down at the velvety hair-ties, “Please, mommy?”

“Huh Yunjin, never call me that ever again.” You said in between snorts of laughter, “Plus, I’m here for some more expensive stuff.”

“Babe, we’re in a literal sex store.” Yunjin said, eyeing some very pink vibrators hanging in the corner, “Everything here is expensive.”

“Fuck capitalism dude.” You sighed, walking deeper into the large store. Everything In there transported you into a retro-american Lana Del Rey music video, with nostalgic pinks, reds and blues covering every inch of it. You wondered mindlessly what on earth scrunchies were doing at a place like this, when you heard Yunjin gasp.

“Y/N look!” She said excitedly like a child in a candy shop, “Look at these beauties.” You followed your eyes up to where she was pointing, and softly chuckled, sleeping your hands into the pockets of your pants.

Leashes.

Gloriously long, magnificently coloured, leashes.

“Are you alright hun?” You said, raising your hand up to pull one of the black coloured ones down from its hanger, “It's not like you to suggest leashes.” Your fingers toyed with the metal chain of the scandalous thing in your hand. You tugged at the price tag to see how much the gorgeous thing was worth.

After all, you only wanted the best for your boys.

“Well isn't this cheap?” You handed the leash to Yunjin who widened her eyes and looked at you as if you had gone positively insane.

“Cheap?” She whispered dramatically, “150 dollars is cheap to you?” She scoffed before she put the leash back on its hanger, “Damn mommy, you are rich.”

“Careful Jinnie, you’re still my assistant.” You chuckled, as you pulled your hands out of your pockets and placed one each on your hip, “Well, I think I’m gonna take two of these.”

“For the boys?” Yunjin asked, putting a thoughtful finger to her chin, “Hmm..I think the blue one and the white one will be nice!”

“Good eye.” You complimented her, letting her pull those ones off. You took the white one in your hand, which had a little bow attached to it, thinking about how cute Jake would look in it. The blue would certainly suit Sunghoon, what with his porcelain skin suiting almost any and every colour.

“Should I go and ring them up then?” Yunjin asked to which you nodded.

“Oh and Jinnie.” You called just as she was about to leave, “Get as many scrunchies as you want.”

Yunjin smiled at you brightly and skipped off to find scrunchies in her favourite colour, leaving you alone to explore more of the shop. From the exterior of the shop, you would never have guessed that it was such a large one, with the endless rows of goodies never coming to a stop. You ought to have brought Jake and Sunghoon here one day; you knew they’d certainly enjoy it.

From the day you’d met both of them, you’ve practically been inseparable. Being a hot-shot business woman in an industry dominated by old men and young fools took a toll on your mental health. If only you had someone to help you take all that stress out. It was Yunjin who had convinced you to follow the ridiculous idea of having a sugar baby–or perhaps even two.

And that was how a puppy-hybrid Jake and kitten-hybrid Sunghoon came into your life, eagerly helping you relieve your stress after a long day signing paperwork and calculating the misogyny. But they had grown into more than just average sex toys. They were also the careful and safe arms that you could slip into whenever you needed to, the gentle hands that would run through your hair on a peaceful night, and the peculiar minds who could convince you to take a break everytime you were on the verge of bleeding through your nose.

So you obviously had to get them a present for your two-year anniversary right?

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Sunghoon’s hand trembled as he carefully set the last edible flower onto the thick buttercream. The cake had to be perfect, so he had started decorating it as soon as it cooled down. He knew you loved violas the most, so he tried to make the flowers look as much as violas as possible. He wondered if Jake was done with whatever he was doing, when the younger man walked into the room.

“The bedroom’s done!” Jake announced proudly, his fluffy golden ears in excitement as he dropped into a chair by the kitchen island, “She’s gonna love it.”

“I hope so.” Sunghoon sighed, taking his apron off, “I had to beg Yunjin to tell me what cake she likes best.”

“To think that it’s been two years and she still doesn't tell us her favourite foods.” Jake scoffed, eyeing the cake with hunger behind his eyes, “But that’s Y/N for you.”

“Jake, those puppy eyes aren't gonna get you a bite of this.” Sunghoon picked the cake up and walked over to the main dining table, where he carefully set it down, “This is for my beloved and my beloved only.”

“Our beloved.” Jake corrected, “Man, she’s done so much for us in the past few years, I hope we can repay the favour.” Sunghoon laughed at the sight of Jake’s golden yellow tail wagging jovially, as it often did whenever Jake thought about you, Sunghoon’s own sleek, thin, black tail lay resting, swishing about every now and then. His black ears sat atop his head patiently, waiting for the sound of the door opening.

“When do you think she’ll be home?” Sunghoon said with an impatient tone to his voice, “The cake will–” Before he could finish his sentence however, his observant ears swooped up, pointing out the kitchen door. The sound of the door creaking open alerted Jake as well, who was out of the room faster than Sunghoon could say a word.

Jake’s feet led him straight out into the hallway, where you stood, taking off your coat and hanging it up, you had a shopping bag in your hand and a mischievous smile on your face as you turned to him and opened your arms for a hug, which Jake ran straight into.

“I missed you.” Jake whined as you wrapped your arms around him tighter, with one of your hands even going up to scratch behind his ears.

“She’s only been gone half a day Jake.” You looked up to see Sunghoon leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, “You’ve handled worse than that havent you?”

‘Don’t be so rough on him, Hoon.” You chuckled, walking up to him, “You’re not better either.” Sunghoon’s mouth closed as soon as it was open, when your fingers ran through the fur of his ears, slowly scratching it. You smirked when his eyes closed for a second, letting himself melt into the warmth of your gentle touch. Which he knew could turn rough at any moment.

“Why does the entire house smell like chamomile?” You said, to which Jake meekly smiled and Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

“That would be his amazing decoration skills.” Sunghoon grunted, his tail swishing around lazily, “Are you hungry?” He quickly diverted the topic, which brought your attention back to your grumbling stomach. You nodded, to which Sunghoon smiled and led you into the dining room, with Jake following behind.

“Ta-da!” Jake exclaimed as soon as you lay your eyes on the cake set on the dining table, “Hoon made it all by himself.” His tail wagged speedily, compared to Sunghoon. Though you had to admit that Sunghoon’s ears, which were dropped to hide his flushed face, were far more adorable.

“A slice, my queen?” Sunghoon said, his eyes instantly cringing in shame at his words.

“Wow......” You chuckled, sitting down on the chair that Jake had pulled out for you, “You made this for me?”

Sunghoon shyly nodded, though his tail betrayed him by rising up in pride. It certainly did have a mind of its own. In order to hide his blushing cheeks, Sunghoon quickly slipped into the kitchen to retrieve a knife to cut the cake. He was greeted with the sight of Jake excitedly rambling about his day to you when he came back.

You giggled, nodding dramatically as he cut out a large slice of the cream-coloured cake and placed it on the plate, nudging it towards you. Jake’s eyes followed you with rapt attention as you brought a piece upto your mouth, eating it slowly so as to fully understand the flavour. Sunghoon had done well, in your opinion; it tasted heavenly.

“Well?” Sunghoon looked at you with hesitation, twiddling his thumbs.

“You’re making this everyday from now on.” You laughed, setting your fork down. The two men laughed along, keeping their eyes set on you to track your every move.

Smirking to yourself, you casually dipped your finger into the thick frosting of your slice of cake, making sure your finger was evenly coated in it, before licking it, very slowly, with your slender tongue. You were quite sure that you heard Jake whimper beside you.

“Want some, Jakey?” You raised a brow at him.

��Dipping your finger once more, you raised it up to Jake’s salivating mouth, which he generously took. Leaning forward, the dog-eared man took the entirety of your finger into his mouth, gently sucking on it. You felt your skin prickle by the way his tongue swirled around.

“That’s enough, baby.” You said gently, though to Jake, it sounded more like a command, “We’ve gotta let Hoon have a turn too, hm?” Jake silently obeyed, looking at you with the same wide eyes, with his fluffy ears positively dying to be scratched. But you wouldn't give him that satisfaction just yes.

Turning your back to him, you came face to face with a droopy eared Sunghoon, who was evidently jealous of the attention his fellow hybrid was getting. Instead of dipping your finger into the frosting, this time, you led your hand up to his ears, scratching behind them again. But this time, your fingers lingered to his hair, eventually reaching to the back of his head, where you kept massaging it. Hard as he tried, Sunghoon failed to not fall into a trance, absolutely sinking into the comfort of your hands. You moved closer to him.

“My sweet boys.” You chuckled, pulling at his hair gently, which made him purr softly, “You’ve been so good for mommy all day, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes mommy.” Sunghoon whispered, as you pulled his hair rougher this time. You chuckled again, releasing his hair so suddenly that he didn't open his eyes, until after a minute or so. When he did, he looked flabbergasted that you had deprived him of his pleasure.

Both the men sat silently as you reached over to grab the shopping bag you’d brought with you; in the excitement to show you the cake, they had completely forgotten to ask you what was in it. They decided to ignore that question though, when you pulled out the most unexpected items out from the bag.

Jake and Sunghoon sat dumb-struck as they stared at the things you had set in front of them. It appeared to be…..leashes?

“You know what they are, my darlings?” You asked them to which they nodded, “Then you’ll know what to do with them I suppose?” Another round of nodding; you smiled, “Good.” You stood up from your seat and started for the kitchen door, but not before placing a sweet kiss to each of their foreheads.

“I’ll have a shower and I’ll get to bed.” You said before exiting the room, “Get dolled up for me.” You winked, before racing up to the master bedroom, leaving Jake and Sunghoon alone with their new toys.

They looked at each other hesitantly before grabbing one each and hurrying off to the bedroom.

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You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water hit your skin, instantly providing relaxation to your tight muscles. Talking about numbers and inflation rates all day stressed you out, so a hot shower was your go to as soon as you reached home. Usually one of the boys joined you, most often Jake since Sunghoon fell asleep quite easily, betraying his feline qualities. You always loved Jake in the shower though; he was always so full of energy for you and the way his fluffy golden tail and floppy ears tickled you pink during a wet session made you extra sleepy, so much so that you were as dead as a log the minute your skin touched the sheets.

You laughed to yourself at the distant memory of Jake accidentally making you sneeze in the shower when some of his fur got into your nose. Picking up your shampoo bottle, you squeezed some onto your hand, spreading it into your scalp with deep, massaging movements that made you relax even more. But then again you couldn't wait to get out and see how the boys looked in their new clothes.

Meanwhile, outside the bathroom—

“How the fuck is this supposed to work.” Jake stared down at whatever the thing was in his hands, “I thought she was getting us some necklaces or something.”

“Technically these are necklaces.” Sunghoon spoke slowly, looking down at his blue leash with the same confused expression, his naked chest rising and falling slowly, “Have you figured out how it opens yet?”

“Do I look like a scientist to you?” Jake said, frowning when Sunghoon jokingly ruffled his head, “Hey, don’t mess it up! I combed it specifically for Y/N.”

“Hmm…don’t care.” Sunghoon chuckled, his tail reaching up to tickle Jake’s shins, “How about we put these on each other? Maybe that’ll help us figure it out?”

Though Jake didn't understand the plan to understand the leashes, he nodded, getting onto his knees on the bed, so as to reach Sunghoon’s height. He grabbed the blue object out of Sunghoon’s hands and studied it for a moment, before raising it up and trying to force it down onto his friend’s cat ears. Sunghoon groaned.

“You really are dumb.” He said, rubbing the place Jake was putting so much pressure on, “Try pulling that strap there, maybe it’ll open up.” Jake obeyed promptly, taking the baby-blue strap and tugging on it as gently as he could, to his surprise, the collar widened.

“It worked!” Jake exclaimed, as Sunghoon looked on with a smug smile, “ Stay still, I’ll put it on you!”

Sunghoon bent forward in order to allow Jake to slip the leather piece on comfortably. He pulled at the strap again and coughed loudly when the collar suddenly tightened up, almost choking Sunghoon.

“What the fuck?!” Sunghoon exclaimed, freeing himself by pulling the strap yet again, “Did she get these things to kill us or something?” He shook his head, in order to keep his ears from zooming all over the place, “Fucking hell, I am not wearing that for her!”

“What are you not wearing for me, Hoonie?”

Sunghoon was always a sensitive man, with his feline features contributing to ninety percent of his sensitivity. He could always sense a thunderstorm or a shift in the atmosphere merely with his tail. That was how he was able to grasp the change in the air as you entered the room, wearing a velvety, pink robe that slipped off of your right shoulder. His eyes gravitated to your chest, where the flimsy material of the robe did nothing to hide your perked up nipples. Jake gulped loudly next to him.

“Now don’t you look adorable?” You laughed, walking towards them slowly, like a predator towards its prey. Yunjin was right in choosing the colours. Jake looked positively gorgeous in the white, whilst Sunghoon’s skin seemed to enjoy the light blue.

Your hand gravitated naturally to Jake’s ears as you reached the foot of the bed, where the both of them sat, with Jake on his knees. He let out an audible whine as you scratched behind his eyes, his tail wagging up and down rapidly and hitting the bed with soft thumps. You smiled at him.

“So needy..” You teased climbing onto the bed, prompting Jake to go back further, until he reached the bed frame. Sunghoon remained in his position. You looked back at him, stopping in your crawling position.

“Aren’t you gonna join us, Hoonie?” Your low, sultry voice combined with your hooded, almost droopy eyes made Sunghoon’s heart jump. He knew you could probably see his erection from his boxers by now, but he didnt care. Swiftly pulling his legs up, he crawled over next to you, immediately going for your lips. You shifted back as he kissed you, one of your hands on the bed, while the other located the leash’s strap. Smirking into the wet kiss, you allowed Sunghoon to enjoy the tantalising feeling, before pulling harshly on the strap.

“Naughty baby.” You cooed, as Sunghoon shut his eyes at the occluding sensation of the collar around his beautiful neck, “You didn't even ask for permission to kiss mommy.”

“..m sorry, m-mommyy..” He drawled out, his voice restricted by the leash around his neck.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of Sunghoon’s neck veins becoming more visible by the minute. You loosened your grasp around the strap for a moment letting him breathe. His chest heaved up and down, taking a deep breath, before you leaned in, your robe now completely off of your upper body as your lips attacked his.

“Hmm…you taste like sugar.” You chuckled, at the sight of his big black ears drooping down as you pulled away, his eyes round and wide as he begged you to relieve him of the throbbing pain in his pants. He swore he heard the threads of his boxers rip.

You glanced to your side at Jake, grinning when you saw his big puppy eyes, and wagging tail trying to distract you from Sunghoon. You let go of Sunghoon’s hair much to his disappointment and crawled over closer to Jake, getting on top of him, before leaning in and kissing behind his ear.

“You missed me today didn't you, pup?” You cooed at him as if he was an actual baby. Jake nodded, his tail bouncing off again at the scent of your perfume. He wanted nothing more than to make you feel good at the moment. But he knew well enough that he had to wait obediently for your permission.

You were about to lean in again for a kiss, when you felt the sensation of soft lips sucking on your bare shoulder. Jake’s attention, which was earlier on your naked breasts, went straight to the purring cat behind you, who was sucking on your shoulder with his teeth. Sunghoon’s chest pressed against your back, and you could practically feel how desperate he was getting, what with his boner rubbing on your ass through his boxers.

“Sunghoon…” You mumbled, turning your head back to look at him. There he was again, with his big eyes begging you for salvation, but you wouldn't let him have it. Not so soon.

“You’re a good boy for me, yeah?” You smiled at him, grabbing his chin with your fingers and tilting it towards you, “How about you go lay down next to Jake hmm?”

Sunghoon didn’t need another word from your tongue to obey, quickly pouncing onto the bed and laying his head down next to Jake on the pillow. His muscles relaxed into the soft material of the sheets, and he could feel Jake’s body heat next to him. The rapid thumping of the heart of the pup was heard as well, his sharp ears picking up almost everything.

“Now…” You smiled warmly, catching the both of them off guard, “you’ll be alright with keeping these on right?” Jake felt the collar round his neck constrict; he realised soon enough that you were tugging on it with straps you held in your hands.

“Anything for you.” Jake heard Sunghoon purr, his own leash restricting his vocal cords. Jake shivered as your hand, still clutching the strap of his leash reached up to brush against his thigh.

You shifted closer to the golden-furred man, forcing him to spread his legs as you accommodated yourself between them, on your knees. Sunghoon watched on silently, muffling his moans every time your hand tugged on his leash. He hated how much he loved the feeling of his breath being obstructed by you.

Hooking your fingers into each side of Jake’s boxers, you pulled them off in one swift go to reveal his throbbing cock; it was already drenched in pre-cum with the angry red tip beckoning you to calm it down. You looked up at Jake, whose face was contorted in pain at the feeling of the collar round his neck. You were enjoying this a bit too much, seeing Jake writhe in a cocktail of pain as well as pleasure everytime you ‘accidentally’ tugged a little too hard.

“Shh, be a good boy now.” You cooed at him, watching him yelp when you tugged harshly at his leash, his head sprang up from the pillow, being pulled by the force of your tight grip round the strap, “Hoonie baby…” You looked over at the purring Sunghoon, whose ears were sprang up in rapt attention, “You wouldn't mind touching yourself while I taste Jakey hm?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon gulped, moving to take his boxers off, when he suddenly felt blood rush to his ears and oxygen flow to his brain. Before he knew it, he was mere inches from your face, having been pulled up by you from his leash–you were definitely stronger than you thought you were–and Sunghoon was loving every minute of it.

“Yes what?” You whispered, your hot breath fanning on Sunghoon’s face.

“Yes........mommy.” Sunghoon rasped out, his eyes practically begging you to tug his leash harder. But you merely let it go, making him fall back onto the bed. He didn't say anything after that, letting you get your attention back to Jake, as he removed his boxers. You glanced at his cock, leaky, red, throbbing, and huge; his once light pink tip was a flashy lighter red and his balls were hardened—waiting to be touched by your masterful hands. But Sunghoon knew he had to wait as obediently and as patiently as he could. Only then would you give him his reward.

Meanwhile, your scrutiny was back on Jake. He felt his skin erupt into goose-pimples at your fiery gaze, your robe was already off now, and at the glimpse of your belly button and labia, Jake’s cock hardened even more. You sank down to your stomach in front of him, your sultry eyes visible to him above his tummy.

“Mmm, so big and hard for me,” You purred, giving his cock a slow stroke, your eyes locked on his as you savoured the feeling of him in your hand. A whimper leapt out of Jake’s mouth, his tail wagging profusely at the pleasurable feeling. God he could have died right there and then.

“M-Mommy please…” He begged, thought it came out more as a long whine. You chuckled, massaging his cock with your hand, while your other hand stayed on Sunghoon’s leash.

“Please what, baby?”

Jake’s heart raced as you prepared, wanting to savour every moment. But he hadn’t said his magic words yet.

“Need you to–oh!” With a groan, Jake leaned into your tightening hold on his length, pulsing and achingly hard for you, “Need you to suck my dick.” He whined in an unusually high pitched voice, “Please mommy?” He added as if it was an afterthought, with huge puppy eyes and ears that bounced off of his head.

“Good boy.” You smirked, stroking up and down his shaft, causing him to slowly exhale as your hand rubbed up and down his length. He whined as you licked the thick and prominent veins on his dick and practically made out with his pink and leaky tip. You didn't forget to tug on Sunghoon’s leash either, his lazy tail catching your eye.

The both of them let out a moan simultaneously, their voices blending together to create the perfect harmony.

You took Jake into your mouth, the warmth enveloping him as you hollowed your cheeks and sank down as far as you could go. The feeling of him stretching your lips made you moan, sending vibrations that only spurred him on further.

As Jake’s body shuddered, he groaned deeply, his cock pulsing in your mouth. “Fuuuck!” he shouted, the sound reverberating through the room. A strained groan left his throat again and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.

Meanwhile, now with an already strained arm, a shiver runs down Sunghoon’s spine- all the way to his throbbing erection held so tightly in his right hand. He purrs softly as his thumb touches the little spot on his balls that drives him practically insane. He keeps rubbing on that one point, imagining that it was you, who was giving him so much pleasure.

The material of the leash’s collar loosens around him—evidently you forgot to tug on it. He presses himself harder against it, moaning loud enough for you to glance up at him. For a split second, Sunghoon’s eyes land on yours and you smirk, tugging the leash gently.

“H-Harder.” He whines, rubbing his thumb across the divot on his tip, “Harder mommy pleeease..”

Caught up in sucking Jake off, you obliged, and pulled harshly, your hands becoming red and calloused by how tight of a grip you had on the leash as Sunghoon’s wet fingers glided up and down his length.

With a desperate thrust, Jake filled your mouth completely, bringing your attention back to his shivering figure, and you felt the warmth of his cum coating your tongue.

The moment stretched on, electric and intoxicating, as you relished the feeling of being so utterly consumed by his need.

Jake’s cock brushed the back of your throat, and you felt him pulse in your mouth, a telltale sign of his impending release.

With that, you took him in your mouth once more, eager to please him, to give him what he craved. You felt a rush of power coursing through you as you worked him, your fingers tracing along the base as your mouth worked diligently.

“Fuckkkk,” he hissed, his voice strained, each word dripping with desire. “I’m so close mommy…”

Your pace quickened and his breathing got faster. His cock slammed into the back of your throat causing you to gag on it. Your free hand wandered to his lower back as support. As he fucked your throat harder and harder your choking became louder and louder which only made him hornier.

Then his hand came grasping your head as hard as possible before he pushed your head up and down his length at a medium tempo, causing him to groan even louder and grip even harder. His thick cock shoved into your throat at once made you choke and breathe heavily. Your spit trickled down your chin and onto the sheets.

You increase your speed, bobbing up and down while keeping your teeth away from his tender flesh. Your jaw is gradually growing tired, but you're committed to this. You try swirling your tongue around him as you move, and it looks like you've made the right choice by the way his noises become more and more desperate.

Now, Sunghoon was fucking his cock like he had a point to prove, snapping his wrist as he brought his free hand off of his thigh, swiping the digits across his dick while he soaked the others to the knuckle. A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves his lips, the loud sounds of his pleasure echoing as he fisted his cock the best he could.

Maybe it was the view of you giving Jake all he wanted, or maybe it was because of how pent up he was, but it didn’t take another stroke before Sunghoon could feel his heavy balls tighten, throbbing in his own tight grasp. He had to make himself cum, needed to before Jake blew his load too soon. Your hand pulls the leash urgently, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist haphazardly.

With a few more eager motions, Sunghoon’s breathing quickened, his body tensing as he teetered on the brink.

Hot ropes of cum surged forth, flooding the sheets and his fingers. He kept pumping greedily, unwilling to let go of his high. Savouring every drop, his eyes locked onto your figure, as you pulled the leash even harder, wanting to milk every last bit from him. He couldn't breathe at this point but he felt that he didn't even need to, the breathlessness only adding to the impact of his drasticorgasm.

“Oh fucking hell…” Sunghoon panted, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Fuckk—thank you—mommy….” He whispered the last words, though he knew you probably couldn't hear them, as you were focused on making Jake cum.

“Fuck! ” Jake cried, his voice a mixture of pleasure and raw need. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside, his hips jerking as he released a torrent of hot cum down your throat.

Waves of warmth filled your mouth, and you struggled to swallow it all as he groaned, his body shuddering with each intense wave of pleasure.

“God, yes! Just like that!” he whined, a few tears escaping from his eyes as he closed them shut, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

You felt a thrill rush through you as you swallowed, savouring the taste of him, the salty flavour satisfying you just enough to give an extra tug to Sunghoon’s leash. You looked up to see two pairs of shaggy ears standing up straight with soft fur shivering as both the boys worked through their respective orgasms.

Slowly but surely, you pulled away from Jake, your mouth feeling a bit sorer than before. You heard a distinct, shuddering sigh escaping from Jake’s throat. You couldn't tell if it was one of tiredness or one of disappointment–that you had stopped working on his pleasure.

“Tired, pup?” You cocked your head to the side, wiping your mouth with your hands. Jake’s eyes fluttered open, his long eyelashes looking up at you with firm determination. He was ready to do anything to make sure your cunt was nice and warm by the time you went to bed. But to his dismay, your gaze wavered over to Sunghoon.

“Kittyy..” You said in a sing-song voice, “Mommy hasn't been giving you much this evening has she?” You chuckled at the sight of his pout, his brows furrowed and his eyes droopy. Evidently he longed to have a taste of your touch, having been so deprived of it since you had only paid attention to the pup next to him all evening.

“Want you so bad, mommy.” He said, or rather whined, “Please…I’ll do anything.” You smirked at his wide eyes, so full of stars and hope. You didn't want to disappoint him this time.

Crawling up to him, you twisted the strap of his leash around your fingers, pulling it to make him sit up to your level. You climbed onto his lap with ease, ignoring his throbbing dick which was dying to get inside of your pussy.

“You’ll do anything huh?” You smiled, leaning in to peck him on his rosy cheeks, “How about…lending mommy some of your tongue?”

Sunghoon’s smile faded a little as he realised he wasn't about to get his erection dumbed down. Nevertheless, he nodded eagerly, pecking you on the cheek as well, to which you giggled.

“Oh you naughty kitty!” You laughed, reaching up to caress his hair and fur, “Touching me without permission.” You ran your fingers through his lush hair, scratching his scalp every now and then. You could hear him purr softly, the heat from him warming you up and his tail swooped around to touch your back. You smiled at the tickling sensation.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you managed to manoeuvre him into letting you slide into bed, while he got on top of you. You glanced sideways to see Jake still panting from his high, his eyes tirelessly fighting sleep. From your sleeping position, you reached out a hand to stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin deliquesce into your touch.

“I’ll get back to you, pup.” You cooed, now seeing that his breathing was more normal and his ears were twitching to the sound of your voice.

Your eyes snapped back to Sunghoon, when you felt the brush of his feather-soft lips on your neck. It soon turned into a harsher one, wet and dirty, with his saliva dripping down the curve of your neck. You clicked your tongue.

“Dirty, dirty boy, Sunghoon.” You said, trying to hide the amusement in your voice, “Shouldn't you save that for my pussy?”

“Sorry mommy..” Sunghoon mumbled, still attaching your neck with his lips, “can’t resist it.”

Before you could open your mouth to say anything, Sunghoon gripped your waist with his hands, momentarily forgetting who was incharge. His mouth kissed all the way down your body, vacationing for a while at the valley of your breasts. You knew he was fighting his demons not to suck your hardened nipples; he had enough self control within him to ask for your permission to do that.

But Sunghoon seemed to forget all about your tits as soon as he saw your cunt, all wet and dripping with juices just for him to lap up. His ears twitched when he heard you chuckle at his stunned expression. You reached your hand down to pat him on the head, gripping his hair tightly for only a second before letting go. He would have loads of that later on.

“You wanna make mommy feel good, kitty?” Sunghoon nodded at your statement; he locked eyes with you as you smirked, collapsing onto the pillow soon after, “Then suck mommy dry.”

You tense as soon as you say the sentence. Your hips immediately grind down against his face. You always loved Sunghoon’s tongue better than Jake’s, the long ever-energetic flesh fitting inside your pussy like a key in a lock.

And the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on your soaked pussy drove you insane. You moaned much louder than you meant to, but you couldn't help it. He apparently knew exactly what he was doing, because this felt magical.

“G-Good boy—oh fuck!” Your words struggled to escape out from your mouth. Your hand tried to grip the sheets, but it was obstructed by something.

The leash.

In your moment of sudden intoxication, you had forgotten all about it. You gave it an experimental tug and immediately felt Sunghoon moan in the most obscene way possible, his hot breath fanning your sensitive pussy. He kept groaning as his throat tightened up, struggling to get air inside. And yet his erection only grew larger.

With every grind and suckle on your clit you were getting closer and closer to cumming. It was a wet and filthy experience, your arousal dripping down Sunghoon’s chin and soaking his face. You could feel it down your thighs, his chin scratching against your delicate skin with every jaw movement, every grind.

You didn't know what to do with your free hand, so they latched onto his hair, pulling tightly. So tightly, in fact, that he groaned. And his voice against your body felt like it was vibrating.

“Oh fuck—Sunghoon!” You cried, accidentally pulling the leash, “Keep—keep doing that…that’s a g-good kitty.” Sunghoon moaned into your cunt again, making you grunt with satisfaction. You could feel your orgasm approaching.

You let out a string of gasps; low, breathy sounds that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter while he stroked your walls, still frantically trying to find friction against the bed to quell the ache in his own core.

“‘Taste so gooood,” Sunghoon moans in a way that's almost pornographic, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. “‘taste so sweet mommy, shiiiitttt.”

He licked a stripe up your vulva, his tongue flat and getting every inch of your pussy till he reached your clit where he wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked. Sunghoon felt a sense of pride rushing through him. He revelled in the fact that he knew how to make your body feel good, how to make you feel good. Your pussy clenched around nothing as he started flicking his tongue against you. Your faintly opened eyes could see Sunghoon’s tail high up in the air, swishing around proudly.

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna–"

You're cut off by an enormous tidal wave of bliss crashing into you. The way his lips sucked on your clit always had you almost passing out when you came.

Your breath catches in your throat, before releasing in an obscenely loud moan. Your legs begin to shake, and you feel your insides clench against Sunghoon’s notorious tongue. Stars fill your vision. This has to be the best thing you've ever experienced in your life, there's nothing else like it on earth.

Your hands worked hard to pull Sunghoon’s hair, wrenching him closer to you, so that his tongue could be buried fully inside your throbbing cunt. Sunghoon moans again—it's a vulgar scene—with his nose bumping against your labia. You tasted so amazing, like a delicacy which he wanted to devour as if he were a man starved of love.

Sunghoon laps up your juices that drip down like a waterfall from the crevices of your pussy. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, encourage him, lazily scratching his fur. You could see the goosebumps that erupt on his skin as you did so.

“Come ‘ere.” You mumbled, tapping your thigh. Sunghoon obeyed promptly, getting to your thigh faster than you could say anything else.

“Mommy I—”

You lean in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut him up. His body barrels into yours, pushing you further into the bed. The leash is abandoned as you stroke your fingertips along the tender skin of his neck, sighing into his mouth through the deep kiss.

“Hoonie..” You said in a saccharine tone, “You made mommy feel so good, you know?” You felt his body tense up from the praise, as he continued to kiss down your neck; you smirked, “But I think I want more.” Your tone was sultry, beckoning to Sunghoon’s ear as you whispered your words to him. His dick was more than ready to be corrupted by your amazing pussy, but he waited on for your permission.

“You wanna give mommy your cock hm?” You questioned, tracing your hand up to the back of his ears and scratching it. Sunghoon’s eyes closed above you, there was not a single thought in his mind. It was you, and only you.

And before you knew it you were throwing your head back, a soft moan slipping past your lips as you grasped his broad shoulders, trying to steady yourself while your body moved on instinct—grinding and bouncing in a messy, desperate rhythm that sent shivers up your spine.

"Oh, fuck—so biggg," you muttered breathlessly, your voice shaky, pleasure washing over every inch of you.

“You’re—fuck–so tight mommy.” Sunghoon groaned, feeling your pussy immediately mould to the shape of his cock. The stretch was incredible, waves of arousal shooting up your spine with every inch he sunk them in, your cunt fluttering around the swell.

“Ah-ahh–fucking hell!” Sunghoon whined, forcing his cock down your hole.

You cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad. There’s a sliver of pain as he bottoms out inside of your dripping cunt. Waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. He’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep within his chest.

In an attempt to grab the sheets, your hand accidentally brushed against warm skin. You glanced to your side and there you spotted him, with his eyes snapped shut.

Jake.

You smirked.

“Jake—Jakeyy..” You chuckled, through the stretch Sunghoon was providing you, effectively jolting Jake awake. His hair was all messy and his ears were laid on one another; he blinked up at you slowly and then he widened his eyes at the vulgar sight in front of him.

“Won't you join us, pup?” You said, muffling a moan. God damn did Sunghoon’s dick drive you bonkers.

Jake shifted in his positions; sleep was still heavy on his eyelids and to be completely honest, he didnt really want to fuck you. Rather shameful for him, really.

“‘m tired mommy…” He groaned, begging you to let him go for the night. Sunghoon would have been more than enough for you. But from the look on your face and the fact that Sunghoon had stopped moving and was now looking at him, Jake knew he wasn't going to get any shut-eye.

Your fingers fiddled around the sheets, with your gaze fixed on Jake’s, until you felt it in your hands.

Jake’s leash.

Thinking back to it, you realised that you hadn't really had any fun this evening with Jake and his pretty white leash with a bow. The bow looked so adorable on him, so enchanting, so submissive.

Clasping the strap in your hand, you pulled roughly, surprised that you still had energy in you. Jake let out a gasp and slid closer to you, by God did you enjoy this. Thick veins appeared on the curve of his neck and his tail started wagging uncontrollably fast, like it had a mind of its own.

“Tch Tch.” You clicked your tongue, Sunghoon let out a cold laugh, “Already so tired? Come on now pup, mommy’s trained you better than that.”

“But–”

“Then again, you don’t want to make mommy feel good do you?” You sighed, you were getting more fun out of this than Sunghoon’s dick buried deep in your gaping hole, “You’re being such a bad boy, pup.”

“No!” Jake defended himself, looking at you with pleasing eyes, “No mommy......I want to make you feel good!” He whimpered when you tugged him closer to you, the fresh scent of his body lotion filing your nostrils, “Give me another chance, please?”

You grinned at him and let out a laugh, forcing your gaze back to Sunghoon. He understood what you wanted immediately and carefully manoeuvred your body to get on your side, with his hands grabbing your waist. You looked back at Jake and winked.

Before you could give an order, or rather attempt one, you found Jake's mouth on your neck, those sharp teeth digging into the top layer of your flesh.

At the same moment you attempted to speak his name, Jake pushed himself in, your walls not ready for such a protrusion, but the pup didn't care, not at the moment. Right now, he stared Sunghoon down over your shoulder, glazed eyes meeting his cold black ones.

With Jake’s chest pressed firmly against your back, Sunghoon’s hands dancing on your waist, and two thick cocks filling up both your holes you finally allowed yourself to let out an explicitly loud moan. It was music to Jake and Sunghoon’s ears—-confirmation that they had made you feel good. It also served as permission for them to move.

“Shit—squeezin me so–so good mommy,” Sunghoon grunts, brows pulled together as he snaps his hips into yours with particular force. He’s eyeing your swollen cunt, his thumb massaging a steady pattern into your skin. You clench around him involuntarily, your insides so swollen and tender that you imagine you can feel the ridges of his veins pulsing against your walls.

Jake’s pleading tone returned, his breath hot against your ear. “Feels so nice…..d-do you feel that mommy?” he whimpered.

“Yes–oh fucking hell!” You gasp, moaning so loudly that you felt sorry for your neighbours, “Making me feel so—ahhh–ah!” Your sentence wasn't to be finished, as two sets of teeth started sucking on the skin of your collarbone and your back. That primal instinct rose within Jake and Sunghoon–the instinct to tear flesh. But you didn't mind of course. You only felt your cunt get wetter.

“G-good boys–doing so good for me…” you murmured, your voice softening just enough to send a rush of heat straight to their cores, igniting their tails, “Doing so good for mommy.”

Their possessiveness only heightened the sensation, making them cling to you tighter as your body quivered with need. Every thrust pushed you closer to the brink, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge, waiting for that final push.

You ended up moving your hands to Sunghoon’s shoulder to hold on to him better as both the men thrusted more erratically. Before you could notice, they ended up digging into his shoulder muscle deeply. An animalistic moan ripped from his chest as he felt your nails draw blood. His hips moved on their own, in and out, into your warmth and out for a split second before plunging back into you faster and deeper than before. It was like his hips were moving faster than his mind could keep up, and the only thing he could think about was you.

“Don’t hold back…that's it,” You groan as you feel Jake’s cock immediately pick up speed.

Jake’s eyes close in pleasure and he starts to kiss your neck again, driving his cock further into your ass, before his movements change. His thrusts become quick and brutal, desperation colouring his movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with lustful noises. Your mind goes blank, every movement seems to make you get so close to your orgasm and see stars. Everything is a haze of pleasure, two cocks reaching the deepest part of you; one hugging your clit close, whilst the other abused your cervix.

Both of them fucked you mercilessly, filthily–just as you trained them. Sunghoon drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your experienced pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft words of praise and little moans only spurred Jake on as well and when your moist pussy clenched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restrain himself for much longer. And neither could Sunghoon.

A harmony of climaxing moans erupt through the cold air, cum rapidly spurting, coating the sheets.

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by your own will, you come undone. Your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around Jake and Sunghoon’s lengths.. You feel Jake's hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues, when Sunghoon whines and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head.

And with one final shove of their hips, you were floating. You let out a strangled moan, something that came from low in your abdomen and exited your lips in a whiny, breathless cry. Jake relished it, pressing his face into your neck as he slowed down his ministrations, letting the sounds and signs of your pleasure coat him, body and mind. Sunghoon’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend.

You shiver drastically when they pull out. Your body is absolute jelly. You can't help but whine. feeling cum (you had no idea whose) starting to leak out. You’re a sopping wet mess between your thighs, between your own slick and the boys’ cum. But, you love this feeling.

And you love the softness in the way Sunghoon lets your back slump against the mattress gently, in the way Jake melts into your buddy, his fur providing you with enough warmth for the night.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon carefully whispers, aware of the fact that you were probably tired, “Should we run a bath or—”

“No–just..” You sigh, pulling him closer by his arm, “..stay like this for some time.”

Jake and Sunghoon smiled to themselves as they cuddled close to you, but now before they wretched the leashes off of their knock, giving each other a look for confirmation. Their necks were heavily bruised and their voices were more strained than before.

But they didn't really care.

After all, what more could they ask for, when they had their heaven between their arms?

fin.

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Taglist: @starfallia @katarinamae @lyxnneee

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awrkive · 8 months ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!"

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that!

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away.

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him.

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com.

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless.

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes.

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you.

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either.

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you.

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost.

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed.

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck! Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

#fic: nb #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x you #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year ago

Text

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.

it’s beautiful.

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!”

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it.

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.”

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

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mariasont · 11 days ago

Text

Laced With Love - A.H

summary: while hotch is away on a case, you do nothing but shop, and when hotch insists you use his card who are you to disobey him? especially when what you buy benefits the both of you

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader spending hotch's money (it's giving sugar daddy af), so much teasing, fingering, oral fem receiving, hotch worshipping reader, some inappropriate comments made in front of morgan accidentally, they both just completely forget about dinner and don't mention so ya know my bad, dirty talk, soft dom hotchy poo

wc: 3.5k

You had a little problem.

It all started innocently enough: one coffee to-go, a quick window shop in your favorite boutique, and somehow that led to you walking out with a bag containing the most adorable pair of heels that you couldn't leave behind. Then it snowballed—another store, another bag. A perfume counter. A cute sweater that was on sale, and, well, that one really didn't count because it was practical. It was warm. Functional, even.

Okay maybe you had a big problem.

But it wasn't until your phone buzzed in your bag, pulling you out of a deep debate over whether you needed the floral dress you were holding, that you realized just how many bags were hanging off your arms.

Mr. Bossman flashed across the screen.

The name was completely ridiculous (and more than a little outdated now that he was your boyfriend), but it fit in a weird, nostalgic way. He'd been away on one of those long-distance cases, the kind where you weren't needed, and you'd been counting the days (and minutes) until he'd call.

You grabbed your phone so fast you almost dropped the dress.

"Hi!" you answered, a little too quickly, your voice so giddy and sugar-sweet it could've given you a toothache. He always teased you for it, but right now you didn't care.

"Hi." His voice was warm, a little rough around the edges with exhaustion. "Just wanted to call and let you know I'll be home tonight."

Your heart practically leapt at his words. "Really? Finally! I thought I was going to shrivel up and die from boredom without you here. Okay, maybe not die, but like... what's the point of anything if you're not home to tell me I bought too many candles?"

"I'm not sure how you've lasted this long," he said. "Should I be worried about the state of the house? Or your bank account?"

"First of all, rude. Second of all, if you are so worried, maybe you shouldn't leave me alone for that long. Ever thought of that, Mr?"

His laugh came through the line, short and deep, and it hit you square in the chest. You closed your eyes, leaning into the sound like it could somehow bring him closer. You could see him so clearly--the way his face softened in a way that made him look ten years younger, the way his shoulders would drop, the way his eyes would crinkle. You missed him so much it hurt.

"Poor thing," he teased, still chuckling softly. "What's a girl to do when I'm not there entertain her? Besides spend my money, I mean."

"Don't worry, Aaron, your money is perfectly safe. My super respectable paycheck—you know, the one you sign—is covering me today."

"Hmm," he said, his voice still muffled. "Sounds like your boss is paying you too much."

"I don't know... I think you're getting a pretty good deal considering I keep you very taken care of. Would you like me to prove it later?"

"Hotch, tell me I did not just hear that."

You froze mid-breath, your hand flying to cover your mouth as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. That was Morgan’s voice. Morgan. You felt like a cartoon character with steam pouring out of your ears as your face burned red hot.

A nervous little squeak escaped you just as you heard Aaron fumbling with the phone, his voice clipped as he said something you couldn’t quite make out. There was a muffled shuffle, the sound of a door shutting, and finally, the blessed beep that meant he’d taken you off speaker.

"Christ, honey."

You peeked through your fingers, cheeks still burning as you tried to decide if you should laugh, cry, or maybe just dig yourself a hole and live there forever.

"So," you said, hesitating for a beat, "scale of one to ten, how dead am I? Should I preemptively file an HR complaint against myself, or just let Morgan handle my inevitable downfall?”

You heard him exhale sharply, the creak of a chair following as you pictured him leaning back with that half-smile he always gave when he was equal parts amused and exasperated.

“It’s fine. It’s a little embarrassing, sure. But nothing Morgan hasn’t done to himself ten times worse. He’ll give you a hard time for a day or so, Garcia will laugh, and then they’ll let it go.”

There was brief pause, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “That being said, maybe think twice before making explicit promises while I’m at work, honey.”

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the shopping bag in your hand as you toyed with the strap absentmindedly.

"I mean, it's only fair I keep my promise now," you said softly, barely loud enough for him to hear. "It's the least I can do."

You heard a faint sound in the background—maybe him clearing his throat—before his voice dropped an octave. "You're already on thin ice today. Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on."

You let out a little huff, batting your lashes instinctively even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

"I don't know why you're doubting me, Mr. Hotchner. You should know I'm very serious about keeping my promises."

"You know, you're not making this easy on me, " Aaron muttered, his voice low and gruff. You could hear a faint groan, followed by what sounded like pacing on the other end. "Alright, I've really got to go now. Behave yourself. And how about you use my card for the rest of the shopping trip?"

"No, Aaron, I can't!" you said quickly, shaking your head as if he could see you. "You'd never trust me again with your card after the damage I'd do. Besides, you're already going to be shaking your head when you see what I got with my own money."

Aaron sighed, his voice going into that low, authoritative tone that always made your stomach flip.

"You will use the card." There was no room for argument in his words. "I want you to. End of discussion."

And just like that, the call ended with a click. You stared at the screen for a moment as if it might magically reopen the call so could argue your case one more time. But, of course, that didn't happen.

He’d told you to use his card—he demanded it, actually—but your fingers still hesitated, clutching the little piece of plastic like it was about to bite you.

You glanced at the white lace lingerie folded neatly on the counter, the delicate fabric practically winking at you. It wasn’t just pretty—it was the kind of perfect that made your heart flutter. Normally, you’d talk yourself out of something so indulgent, but this time? Well, Aaron had practically begged you to buy something… and you couldn’t think of a better way to treat both of you.

You only hesitated for the briefest moment before swiping his card, your heart doing a little flip as the cashier folded the lingerie into tissue paper with careful hands. It felt like a tiny secret between you and Aaron—a very fun secret.

By the time you got home, the sun had started to dip below the horizon, and you knew you had some time before Aaron made it back. He always gave you a pretty reliable ETA. It was the perks of dating someone so anal.

You lugged your shopping bags up to the bedroom, your arms aching a little, but in the best way possible. Once in the bedroom, you started unpacking everything like it was Christmas morning. Dresses went in the closet, shoes were lined up neatly, and you stashed the receipts in the nightstand just in case Aaron did ask how much damage you'd done.

Then you pulled out the piece—the one you'd bought with him in mind. The silk felt decadent under your fingertips, and the delicate lace was almost too beautiful to wear. Almost. It fit like a glove, hugging every inch of you like it had been tailored specifically for this moment.

Feeling pleased with yourself, you made your way to the kitchen and slipped into your favorite frilly apron, tying the bow neatly at the back. Cooking wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you were determined to make this work. Pasta seemed foolproof enough (right?), and you threw together a salad and garlic bread for good measure. By some miracle, nothing caught on fire, and the kitchen actually smelled amazing.

You found yourself glancing at the clock every few minutes. When you finally heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, you glanced over your shoulder, heart skipping a beat.

"Hi honey!" you called sweetly, pretending as if standing in the kitchen wearing practically nothing was the most common thing in the world.

Aaron stepped inside, the door clicking behind him, but the second his eyes landed on you, he froze. His tie was loosened, his sleeves slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it at least a dozen times today. But none of that mattered now—he stood there like he’d forgotten how to breathe, his dark eyes drinking you in.

You smiled at him, slow and innocent, brushing your hands lightly against the counter. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Sweetheart..." His voice was deeper than usual, strained and almost ragged, like he was trying to pull himself together and failing miserably.

"Yes?" you replied, acting as if you didn’t notice the way his eyes were glued to you while you turned off the burner and set the pan aside.

"What..." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze dragged down your body, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your ass. "What are you wearing?"

You turned to face him fully, the delicate lace tugging just slightly as you moved, drawing his eyes lower without him even realizing it.

"Oh this?" you said, gesturing vaguely to the piece. "It's just something I picked up today. You told me to use your card, so I thought I'd get something you'd like."

His jaw tightened, eyes scanning you slowly before lingering on the pink bows peeking out over the apron. "You used my card on this?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, your hands gliding down the soft lace as you took a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. "I figured it was an investment. You know, for both of us."

Aaron groaned, low and frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose for a brief second before letting his hand drop.

“Using my card for this…” His voice was rough as he closed the space between you in one long stride, his hands landing on your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips curved into the faintest smirk as his voice dipped lower. “Was the one thing you’ve done right today. Now take this off—slowly, sweetheart—and let me see exactly what I bought.”

He pinched at the bow on your apron, his fingers tugging lightly, but you stepped back just enough to be out of his immediate reach.

“If you were that eager to see what I bought,” you teased, your fingertips grazing one of the straps of the apron, “maybe you shouldn’t have left me waiting so long.”

You slipped one strap off your shoulder, letting it fall halfway, then paused, tilting your head slightly as if daring him to come closer.

"Trying on pretty things, waiting for me to come home—must've been absolutely draining," Aaron shook his head slowly.

You pouted at him, pushing your bottom lip out just enough to make his eyes soften. He chuckled quietly, stepping closer until his hands braced the counter on either side of you, caging you in.

"But you know what? I missed you too. And seeing you like this... makes being away feel like torture."

Your pout melted into a glowing smile as your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers brushing lightly over his shirt.

“You mean it? You really missed me?”

"Of course I did." His hands cupped your jaw gently, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His other hand moved slowly to the bow at your waist, pulling the knot loose with an easy tug. "Now, angel, let me see what else I've been missing."

The apron slipped to the ground, forgotten, as Aaron’s eyes locked onto you. He blinked once, then twice, his expression unreadable except for the slight parting of his lips, like he’d been robbed of air.

His gaze traveled over you like a slow caress, taking in the way the lace hugged your curves, teasing him with everything it didn’t quite cover. His eyes lingered on your chest, where the sheer fabric exposed the peaks of your nipples, and you caught the subtle hitch in his breath as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching slightly.

You tilted your head, letting your expression soften into something sweetly innocent as you leaned back against the counter. The lace shifted with the movement, exposing just enough to make his jaw tighten. Then, just for a second, you parted your legs, catching his sharp inhale as you gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

When he realized what wasn't under the lace, his eyes snapped back up to yours. Without a word, he dropped to his knees, hands sliding over your thighs until they rested just above your knees.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, heart skipping several beats as you stared down at him. You hadn't expected this. Not the way his knees hit the floor like it was second nature, not the way his palms spread wide against your skin, thumb brushing over the curve of your inner thighs as he looked up to you.

He must be exhausted, that was your only explanation. But then his hands pressed harder into your thighs, and the thought evaporated. His eyes weren't clouded with exhaustion—they were focused, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

Your stomach twisted sharply, your legs suddenly feeling like they couldn’t hold you upright anymore. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That singular thought settled in your chest, blooming like a flower, before curling low in your belly, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your thigh in the softest of touches, like he was savoring the moment. Slowly, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time, his fingers tightening around your thighs as his grip became more insistent. He kissed you again, higher and slower, his nose grazing your skin, breath fanning over you. A deep, contented hum rumbled from his chest.

"What have I done," he murmured, his voice rasping like the words have been pulled from his chest, "to deserve this? To deserve you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours. "Tell me, angel, because I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant to have you like this."

You wanted to tell him everything—the depth of your love, how he made you feel like the luckiest person alive—but the words lodged in your throat.

"Aaron... I... you're just..." you stammered, voice trembling as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. His lips brushed higher, dangerously close to your exposed cunt, and a soft, broken sound escaped you.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration shooting straight through you.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" His breath was hot against your thigh. "You always have so much to say. Don’t tell me you’re out of words already. I haven’t even started.”

"I was going to tell you how—oh, gosh, Aaron—"

Your words you had been trying to string together scattered completely, replaced by a shaky moan as his mouth pressed firmly against your clit. Your breathing stuttered, your chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure coursed through you, drowning out every thought but him.

His mouth was everywhere—warm, insistent, and impossibly skilled as his tongue traced over your clit with maddening precision. He worked like a man possessed, drawing sounds from you that you didn't even know you were capable of making. He was too good at this—too good at knowing exactly where and how to touch you, too good at making you fall apart with just his mouth.

Then he shifted, his hand gripping your other thigh as he lifted your second leg over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. The sound you made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, your hands flying to his hair as your head tipped back.

Your back pressed against the edge of the counter awkwardly, a dull ache building in your lower spine, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of pleasure radiating through you. His tongue moved in devastating accuracy, his hands gripping your thighs like he was gluing you to himself. Your chest moved in shaky breaths, his name slipping from your lips in trembling cries that you couldn’t hold back.

"If I'd known this would be my reward," you gasped, tugging hard at his hair, your words faltering as your head tipped back. "I'd have emptied your whole wallet—oh, fuck—“

His lips closed firmly around your clit, pulling firmly in a way that destroyed your sentence completely. His hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you locked exactly where he wanted you.

"You must really mean it if you're cursing now." His tongue flicked over you again, making your back arch sharply. "Didn’t know you had that in you... let’s see what else I can get you to say, angel."

A warm flush spread up your neck and into your cheeks, heat rising faster than you could control. "I didn't mean to--"

You were cut off once again as his finger slid into your pussy. Any trace of embarrassment was gone, swept away by the overwhelming need pooling deep in your core, leaving nothing but raw desire in its place.

The pressure, coiling low in your stomach, was building so fast you could barely keep up with it. Every tell-tale sign was there—the trembling of your thighs, the way your chest shuddered in shallow breaths, and most incriminating of all, the words spilling from your lips before you could even think about them.

"I love you," you gasp, the desperation clear as ever. "I love you so much, I love you—Aaron, oh—"

He groaned against your clit, his tongue pressing hard as though your words were the fuel he needed to pull you apart completely. His finger curled again, hitting that spot that made you vision blur. His eyes flicked up, and you could tell he knew exactly what was happening. He always knew.

"I know, angel," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "Now show me just how much."

Your orgasm hit you with staggering intensity, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing through you that left every inch of your body trembling. Your breath came in uneven, stuttering gasps as his name spilled from your lips, over and over, like a mantra you couldn’t stop repeating.

"That's my girl," Aaron murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin as his finger worked you through the waves.

His lips pressed on last kiss to your thigh before he straightened, his hands immediately wrapping around your waist like he predicted you'd collapse without him. As soon as he lifted you, you clung to him like your life depended on it (and in that moment you were sure it did), your arms winding around his neck.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating somewhere above yourself. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. Your fingers curled weakly against the fabric of his shirt, and for a fleeting moment, you weren’t even sure your body had substance anymore—you felt soft, boneless, entirely his.

Aaron tapped the back of your thigh gently. "Come on, sweetheart, up."

You tried—really, you did—but your body wasn't cooperating. Your legs dangled uselessly, and you let out a soft, half-laugh, half-whisper. "Can't."

He huffed a quiet laugh.

"Hopeless," he teased. He hoisted you up before you could process it, his shoulder pressing into your stomach as he flipped you over it. A surprised squeak escaped you, but his hand was already bracing your thigh as he started up the stairs. "I guess I'll just have to do all the work, as usual."

"You're so strong," you mumbled dreamily, your head lolling against his shoulder. "Like... disgustingly strong. It’s so hot."

Aaron laughed, his hand smacking your ass. "Keep talking like that, sweetheart and I'll start using you for my next workout routine. And I guarantee it'll be something you'll feel tomorrow."

"Mr. Hotchner!" you gasped, your voice half-indignant and half-giggling. "And you act like I’m the inappropriate one in this relationship!"

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he carried you into the bedroom. He lowered you down, tossing you onto the bed just hard enough to make you bounce lightly against the mattress. You let out a soft laugh, body sinking into the covers as you looked up at him.

“The difference is, I have the good sense not to say things like that on speakerphone.”

You let out a small laugh, raising your eyebrows. “And you should have the good sense not to trust me on speakerphone. Really, Aaron, rookie move.”

He stood tall at the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly loosening the top button of his shirt as he tilted his head. "“That’s fine. We’ll call it even—after you make good on that promise."

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#aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo assistant reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

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maddilynmuse · 4 months ago

Text

Memory of Liar

Another fic for @mari-lair ‘s Siffrin? More like Sif’s Out AU based on this memory exclusive to it. This one got a lil long, as I think y’all can see. Also I enjoy writing Odile. Apologies for any formatting opposed, I wrote this on my computer but had to upload on my phone.

No major CW’s beyond just “Odile questioning Siffrin’s mental health.” Enjoy!

It hadn’t been too long since that one loop. That loop where they found out just how good Siffrin was at pretending to be fine. How convenient that not long after, Odile got a skill to deal with it. Memory of Liar. It allowed her to know when Siffrin was lying (albeit not by omission, but still). Ideally, it would be a niche skill at best, one to keep on for a loop or two and forget that she had-

“Hey Odile!”

Siffrin began his usual greetings. Seems Mirabelle reminded him about the clocktower “sleepover” this time. She must be feeling nostalgic; they’d all planned to meet up at the clocktower afterwards anyways, so there was no need to send Siffrin on a quest to go talk to them all, but given how low he got, how useless he felt, it made sense for her to give him a task. Would it be too cynical to say Mirabelle was establishing a baseline? Perhaps.

“So, what will you do after?” Siffrin asked her.

After. Gems, at this rate such a thing felt laughable, but she bit her tongue well enough. What had she planned to do after this? So much time had been spent on loops and the breaking of them that leaving Dormont was starting to feel like more of an impossibility than beating the King ever had been.

“I’ll probably go back to Ka Bue,” she said. It seemed like the next most logical step. She had a home there, after all. Besides, it might be nice to get far, far away from Dormont.

“And wrap up your research?”

“Research?” Oh, right. Her fake research.

“Your research into cultures-ology?”

Had he said that last time? When was the last time Mirabelle called for a sleepover? Gems, she didn’t like this.

“Cultures-ology isn’t a field of research, Siffrin.”

“But it is the field of research you spent your life trying to create…”

“No,” she said bluntly. He looked a little put off by that, so she changed the topic the most natural way she could. “What about you? What will you do after we beat the king?” If they ever get to leave Dormont, that is.

“Come up with my own field of research.”

… huh?

Something about what he said there, it sat oddly in her gut. It felt… wrong. But how could-

Right. Memory of Liar. He was lying. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be? She knew from the start that was likely a joke, and a joke could count as a lie, she supposed. Maybe this ability wasn’t particularly discerning. She’d have to test that too, wouldn’t she? Would it activate at anything that wasn’t true? Or would it only activate if Siffrin was actively trying to deceive?

As Siffrin walked out again, only then did it occur to her… what did the rogue intend to do when he got out? Well, a question for the others, she supposed.

------

They were back at Dormont. It wasn’t of much use, asking the others. Bonnie and Mirabelle couldn’t remember off the top of their heads, but apparently Siffrin had told Isabeau they intended to start a comedy club… That sounded considerably more likely than them going into research, but she was still inclined to double check. It was nothing wasting a whole loop over, but they’d agreed that next time they looped back to Dormont, Mirabelle would tell Siffrin about the clocktower, and Isabeau and Odile would “switch places,” so to speak. She needed to be the one to hear him, so she had to come last.

As Siffrin got up sleepily, almost tauntingly laid back, he greeted Mirabelle saying the nap was a solid 9 out of ten… The thought that their rogue was rubbing in their lack of exhaustion was illogical, something she knew all too well, but maybe she wasn’t in a particularly giving mood as she squatted in the bushes against the protest of her knee. A few more pleasantries were shared and…

“Where will you go after?”

“Oh! You know… maybe a pilgrimage? I-I suppose this all kiiiiiinda already counted as a pilgrimage, but, um… does it?” Does it if she only half remembers some of it, so much time taken over by these last few days? Or was Odile projecting here?

It didn’t matter.

“What about you though Siffrin. What will you do after?” Mirabelle asked.

Odile watched him like a hawk as he had his little smile, looking up to the sky, and, “Go on a pilgrimage too, maybe.”

“Oh! That’d be lovely,” Mirabelle said.

If only it were true.

Odile waited for them to get to the store—the store she often started at but currently housed Isabeau—forcing herself up and stumbling like a drunk from the woods, knee seizing up all the way. Mirabelle rushed over, using a bit of healing craft on her.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, I’m fine…” Odile said, though sighed in relief at the healing craft easing the pain.

“… so?” Mirabelle said.

“He was lying. He has no intention to go on a pilgrimage.”

Mirabelle sighed but nodded. Neither of them were surprised, really?

“Can you even go on a pilgrimage if all you do is travel anyways? What’s even the difference?” Odile muttered to herself. “Ah, no use now. I have to catch up before Isabeau runs out of ways to stall.” Thankfully it was a short walk. The door was open, she simply had to linger near it.

“What will you do after?” Siffrin asked Isabeau.

Seems she was right on time.

“Eh, I’ll probably just go back to Jouvente. Not sure about rejoining the Defenders, not after they left Mira, but maybe I’ll try some clothing design?”

“Oh? I didn’t know you were interested in that. That sounds great, Isa!”

“Heh, thanks Sif. But what about you? What will you do when we beat the King?”

Assuming Isabeau did a good enough job of recapping what he said before, presumably Siffrin’s answer would be the same…

“Start a comedy club!”

… that one wasn’t true either? She’d honestly thought it might be, or at least that it was fifty fifty, but no. Almost a shame, it fit all too well. Then again, it meant more people were spared his puns…

She tuned out the rest in favor of trying to get a head start on making it to the East side of town. Siffrin tended to dawdle when left to his own devices, but still would be nice to find a way to listen in that wouldn’t be physically painful this time…

Oh right. There’s a building here, right near Bonnie. She’d basically gone blind to it, considering it no more than any other house: pointless. Though she did know the open phrase, well, the only thing of value was the “Long Thingy Thing” (as Bonnie put it), and they didn’t really need to go through the trouble of crafting a bomb at this point. That said, she did know the open phrase, so she could probably get inside, and she could hear Bonnie, but could she hear Siffrin? Then again, once Siffrin was near Bonnie, she could sneak closer.

And so she did. It went off almost disappointingly easily. Gems alive, what she wouldn’t give for something to go awry in a way that would let her dig her teeth into something again. But no, no. This was more efficient. (Everything was efficiency these days, that’s how Siffrin got so bad).

She crept closer as the two talked. Siffrin was needling Bonnie, and Bonnie was rising to the bait. Was it genuine irritation and stress, or just their mimicry of it? She wasn’t sure, maybe both. Not too long in, the question came up.

“Well what about you, Frin? What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll go to space.”

… she didn’t even need the Memory equipped to know that that was a bald-faced lie, but she supposed that confirmation was nice? Well this one was a waste of time. Best to try to slip out towards the favor tree and play her own part.

Four different answers, none of them true. Why would he hide what he intended to do after? Maybe earlier in their adventure together she would’ve assumed that it was for nefarious purposes, but if he was an assassin on the behalf of the King or anything like that, he’d probably have done something to stop them on at least one of the occasions that they killed him. Whatever happened with Euphraise usually seemed centered on him, but he always looked shocked, so it was unlikely he expected it any more than the rest of them had the first time.

So if not foul play, then why? Some charitable part of her mind wanted to say his plans were just embarrassing, but…

As they’d recently learned the hard way, their little rogue wasn’t nearly as fine as he seemed. All it took was one day of them taking the lead a bit too much for him to consider himself a useless idiot. He rarely spoke of home. Never spoke of loved ones, at least not for more than a few sentences. He’d taken losing his eye almost too well. She wouldn’t say that he was at risk of becoming a Sadness or doing something willingly stupid, but the more she thought on it, the more things painted a picture she didn’t like the look of, but couldn’t afford to look away from either.

If she didn’t know better, she could mistake him for a ghost. A spirit. Maybe even some Expression. Nothing but a being floating through to help. But she’d seen him eat, seen his blood splatter on the floor, heard his gasps and screams at hard hits. She’d seen him lose an eye. Ghosts didn’t do that. He was flesh and blood yet missing so much he seemed almost insubstantial. Was he aware of this one some level? And what could do that to a person? Gems alive, she knew he had bad memory, but maybe she should’ve been delving deeper into it. Why hadn’t she? It wasn’t like her to see something so strange, to see someone start stories over and over that never reach an end, to see him speak of things and lose his train of thought halfway through, and she just…

Never questioned this?

Gems alive, her head was pounding along with the beat of her heart, but she screwed her eyes shut and blocked the world out, determined to follow this rabbit hole down. Something was wrong here, and maybe if she could puzzle out what, if she could find the missing piece, she could somehow make him whole again and, expressions willing, maybe that’d be the key to fixing this whole mess. Maybe it’d set them free. She just had to figure out why-

“Hey, Odile, are you okay?”

She jolted, whipping her head around to see, “Gems, Siffrin. You startled me…”

“Sorry,” he said. “Thinking on your wish?”

“Hah, no, I already made that,” she said. A stupid wish to win a coin flip that came to nothing in the end. And unimportant. She had to figure out… figure out…

Had to figure out what Siffrin intended to do with his life, right? Yes, that’s what she’d been doing.

“I was just… trying to figure out what to do afterwards,” she said. Maybe it was manipulative, but if she pretended she needed suggestions, maybe he’d offer something more tangible?

“Hmm? You don’t already know? I figured you’d wrap up your research.”

No, that’s right. He already had that idea in mind, didn’t he? She let out a bitter chuckle. “I’ll let you in on a secret. There is no research, Siffrin. It was just a convenient lie to explain why I’m here.��

He looked at her with a hard to read expression. “But… huh???”

They were off balance. Good. Maybe it’d trick him into saying something real.

“Yes, yes, sorry to give the game away, but I guess I realized that if I don’t admit it now, I might never. And I wouldn’t want to actually beat the King and then have to figure out what next. Plus I figure if I have a plan for after, if I have a goal, I might be more driven to reach it. Whatever helps, yes? So, any ideas?”

He was looking at her like she’d grown a second head, clearly thrown off. “You could… actually start researching something? Or, um… aren’t you writing a book?”

“My journal? That’s just personal notes. It’d be nonsense to anyone else.”

“Oh.”

She waited but, no, they weren’t offering anything up, were they. She’d have to take the offensive.

“What about you, Siffrin? What do you plan to do after?”

“Oh, uh…” he looked around and shrugged. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”

… not a lie. Interesting…

“Oh? Why not? I mean, you’re not even from Vaugaurde, you must have joined for some reason, right?” She could list theories, but that’d likely give him an out. She was wise to his game. At least half his answers, maybe more, were just mimicking what the other person intended to do. Otherwise it’s just what they’d most likely want to hear, save for perhaps telling Bonnie they’d go to space. An interesting outlier, that one. It seemed innocuous, but maybe it was important?

No, focus now. Theorize later.

Siffrin squirmed a little and finally chuckled awkwardly, offering an awkward shrug. “I didn’t really have anything better to do…”

And gems alive, he was not lying.

“I… see.”

Maybe she should let him go, but she needed to know one more thing first…

“And after we all go our own ways, you’ll be alright, right?”

“I guess I’ll go back to how I was before.”

Not a lie, but not an answer either. “And were you happy before?”

“Of course!”

She needed to talk to the others about this.

——————

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

#siffrin? more like sif is out au #isat fanfic #isat spoilers #isat au #ISAT Odile #odile pov #memory of liar #in stars and time #isat #fanfic #mine #writing #isat siffrin #teehee

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goryhorroor · 1 year ago

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Video eassays part 2? Please?

gladly (part one: x)

the shining and the lighthouse: the horror of isolation

monstrous menstruations: the dehumanising of women in horror

the feminist horrors of jennifer's body, teeth, and a girl walks home alone at night

why the shining is terrifying

why you should watch disturbing horror movies

a monstress comes of age: horror & girlhood

jennifer's body & the horror of bad marketing

scary faces and loud sounds - analog horror

the nostalgic nightmare of skinamarink

queer representation in modern horror

the real reason the thing (1982) is better than the thing (2011)

how to make possession horror/the exorcist

the existential horror of david cronenberg's camera

the tale of two sisters / the unsettling mise-en-scene

what happened to japanese horror?

nope: the rise of existential horror

deconstructing the horror musical

pennywise: how to make a horror villain

alien - the art of horror

green room: why dumb decisions matter

let's talk about goosebumps scariest episode

the catharsis of body horror

the thing is the best horror movie of all time

what we can learn from korean horror

cure / creating the scariest non-horror film

the rocky horror picture show is the most important cult film ever made

ambiguous horror of the wailing

elements of horror - screams in horror movies

noroi: realistic j-horror

kairo / anatomy of the scariest scene ever

psycho / how alfred hitchcock manipulates an audience

the faith & horror of the exorcist

jurassic park is actually a horror movie

the horror (and problem) of sinister

the horror romance of let the right one in and let me in

mainland chinese horror & censorship

the most profound ending in horror film history?

courage the cowardly dog: an intro to horror

why do people dislike smart horror films?

exploring netflix's most unsettling found footage

universal monsters - why are classic horror movies still popular?

strange phenomena: the films of dario argento

exploring cinema's most controversial horror movie

why do horror games sound so beautiful?

atmosphere makes a great horror movie (alien 1979)

horror comedy: juxtaposed genre

why perfect blue is terrifying

the thing: horror in isolation

#horror #horror essays #i have to make a part 3 cause i have more so wait so reblog

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amfstargirl · 3 days ago

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Yandere batfam x neglected reader

Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid, the house is white and the lawn is dead ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You stood firm on the ground, eyes stern and unwavering. In front of you was a place all too familiar—the "shelter" where you grew up, the house that had been your home for five years of your childhood. As you stood there, memories flooded your mind, both the happy ones and the melancholy ones. Your eyes roamed around the place, taking in every detail before you finally decided to enter, lest anyone mistake you for some kind of lunatic loitering outside someone's house.

As your feet mindlessly carried you into the room, a heavy, shaky sigh escaped your quivering lips. It hadn't even been five seconds since you entered, yet you already felt the urge to cry. Oh well, that's what memories do to you. You gently caressed the dirty white wall adorned with your old, fading doodles. Most of them were pink—your favorite color then and even now as an adult. You smiled sadly as the memories of your time in the house flooded back, making you nostalgic. You scoffed sarcastically at the irony that you missed this place more than the manor where you'd spent a longer time.

Perhaps it was because the old you—the innocent, sweet, and pure one—was still within these thin walls that had sheltered them through all the bad times. You could feel their giggles and laughter lingering in the air. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at every sticker, doodle, and writing spread across the walls. Somehow, you cried out of joy, relishing the fact that the child you left behind in this house was still here in some way. Still innocent, still unaware of the harm the world could do.

In the manor, all the love you ever knew came from the man who introduced himself as the family butler but whom you soon came to know as your father. He was the love you craved and begged for at Bruce's feet. He fed you, took care of you, and taught you the things you needed to know. He attended family days, PTA meetings, and other events that your biological father should have been at. Under Alfred's shelter, you did everything you could to try to level with your siblings' talents—learning acrobatics, martial arts, drawing, baking, and more.

Yet it was Alfred who, in the dead of night, under the whispers of the cold wind whipping past your teary face, assured you that you would never need any of those skills to truly earn your family's love. All you needed was to be yourself. You allowed yourself to believe his words and lived them as your truth for a short time, but soon gave up on the idea, accepting that they wouldn't truly see you.

Now, dwelling on your lingering past and memories outside the manor, you remembered those you knew before coming to live with them. You reminisced on the thought of your mother. You remembered her.

You remembered how poverty ate your mother away and that she couldn't provide necessary needs for you but you, sweet, beautiful, angel you never complained.

You remembered how much you loved those barbie shows and movies but couldn't afford the dvds and even a proper functioning television so you sometimes watched it from your window across your neighbors, and while watching you saw a glimpse of their life. Their happy, perfect family life. How they cuddled their daughter and watched those silly barbie movies together. Your eyes softened as you thought "I wanted that" the little you hoped that maybe one day momma will get better and finally love me. Your tears poured from your eyes at the thought.

You remembered while you were doing your homework alone, you heard a whimper outside your window near the alley. As you peeked your tiny head outside, your braids flowing with the cold, harsh wind, your eyes searching for the source of noise. As you let your gaze travel through every corner of the alley, you saw a dirty, poor puppy whimpering, alone, calling out for its mother, its father, anyone. You ran hastily outside and collected its tiny and fragile form gently in your arms. "I'm here, I'm okay, you're safe," you whispered softly to the creature. And from. That very day you fed it and kept it sheltered secretly from your mother. You named her Amara. It suited her. You didn't have much play mates so you sometimes play with her by the yard where you and her would either run together or lay down. You never really got to say goodbye to her. From "that" moment on, you never got to go back to your house. You wondered how she was. Was she well fed? Did she think you abandoned her? Does she miss you? The guilt of living her ate you up the longer you dwelt on the past. You shook your head and sighed, trying to forget about all of it. You mourned every version of you. And this was your most treasured one. Thinking back on all the memories you had of the old you, of her. You thanked them for being so forgiving, for being so brave, for being so content with what she had, and for never trading anything for it.

They Were such a kind soul. And you're glad that they gets to stay where they were the happiest despite the nightmare they endured those days. You will always look up to them. They were and will always be a part of you. You took one last look at the house, the drawings, the dirty corners of the room, and released a breath as you closed your eyes. This was it. You'll finally get to say goodbye-

Whimper

You froze as you heard a familiar whimper. You turned around and slowly walked towards the opened door, and you saw her. Amara, your friend. You can't help but let the tears fall as her once brown fluffy appearance is now old and grey. You wondered how even in the light of old age she somehow still seems so youthful. She was still your baby. With a shaky voice, you tested the name. "Amara...?" she wags her tail in delight as a response to the familiar name she's been waiting to be called for so many years. You kneeled down and gently caressed her. "Oh, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she whimpered as if answering you. You noticed her trying to catch her breath and her body growing weaker. You glance at her tail and see its wagging has become more frail and slow. You glance at your eyes, and you know. You smiled at her and whispered, "It's okay, baby. You can rest now." Her face weakly lit up, and she slowly closed her eyes, calm and loved, finally in your embrace.

After some time, you tenderly wrapped her body in a blanket. You carried her to the yard where you both used to play together as kids, a place where you ran freely without a care in the world. Borrowing a shovel from a tenant in the apartment, you buried her there, in the spot where you both were the happiest.

You whispered silent prayers for your companion and left with the memories. This was it. You've made your peace with the old you. Almost. There was one more thing you have to do.

You used believed that your mother could have been so much more. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, even if other would beg to disagree. But, you knew that she knew how to play her cards right to get what she desired for. She would have been so powerful if she used her sharp mind to something much more.. Productive. Yet she chose to sleep with men, abandon her daughter, and let herself be eaten by poverty and lust. Well, you didn't really mind if she abandoned you. You've always felt like you were the burden, the barrier to her way of succeeding and the chain locked onto her feet, keeping her from truly running away to what she has become. You've seen it in her eyes, the thought of running away and living a new life, but when she looks at you.. She saw a mistake she could never be freed of. A mistake. If only you weren't born, she would have been so happy.

Blink.

Blink. "Ma'am?" the nurse asked. Suddenly, you were back to reality. You blinked again, processing her words. You glanced at her expectant expression and blurted out, "Y-yes, yes, uhm. Yeah. I'm ready." She smiled and said, "Great. Let's go this way, ma'am." You followed her hurriedly, not wanting to test her patience. As you walked, dissociating and thinking of all the possible outcomes, the nurse suddenly stopped in front of a room and said, "We're here. You can enter now." You nodded and thanked her silently.

Facing the door, you chanted in your mind, "You can do this," with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and opened the door. There she was—your mother, in all her glory. Bare-faced and vulnerable in her comfy hospital gown. You almost choked on your saliva, seeing her this... bare. You had always seen her so filtered, her face adorned with colors, her clothes tight and bright. Awkwardly, you shifted in your place and slowly sat beside her bed as her gaze followed your every move. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I know you.” you widen your eyes at her as she continues “you're my child.” you weren't shocked at the fact that she acknowledged you but the fact that she called you Her child, and the softness in her eyes. You were starting to think that maybe this isn't your mother, because she never looked at you like that. Never in years of living together has she even glance at you.

She chuckled at the sight of your confused and shocked state, bringing you out of your thoughts. "What? Shocked? Of course, I still remember you, Y/n," she weakly said, her voice small and quite different from the harsh tone she used to yell at you with. You inhaled sharply, trying to stop your tears from falling. What the heck? Were you about to cry again?

"I thought with how much resentment you harbor for me, you would have forgotten about me by now," you smiled sadly at her, watching her face drop slightly but still smiling weakly.

"Oh, Y/n," you almost crumbled right then and there. Oh, how much you had longed to be called so sweetly by your mother's voice. "I never hated you... that much," she said bitterly, and you stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I just wasn't born to be a mother, no—at least not in this life. I'm a mess and I always will be. And I'm sorry I couldn't change for you because nothing can and nothing will change me anymore."

Your lips frowned at her words. "I always thought that maybe you could have been better without me," you said. You miss her, and you will always miss her. She was your whole world, but now seeing her and talking to her made you realize her world was clearly much different from yours. Her world was something one could not escape. You knew you couldn't live like that, and it seems that she cannot live any other way. They said that a mother and children exist as wretched mirrors of each other. You were all she could have been and she was all you might have been.

She closed the distance between you and embraced you for the first time. "You never were. It was me. I was the problem. You were just a child. In another life, I would've been able to care for you." You didn't question her on why she couldn't do it in this life because you knew. You knew she didn't have the capability to be a good mother and a morally good person now, and that was okay. You couldn't live with The fact that she will never truly care for you and will always hold secret animosity towards you if you force her to be a mother to you. You closed your eyes for a minute and silently took in the feeling of a mother's embrace for the first and last time.

"This is the last time you're ever gonna see me again," you said. Your mother chuckled bitterly and replied, "I know. Good for you, kid. Leave everything behind and start anew. You deserve it."

You soon moved out of her arms and held her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. With a deep exhale, you walked out of the hospital. This was it—you were finally free from your past. You had made your peace with it, and now it was time for you to move forward. You knew that if you didn't confront the horrors of your past, they would haunt you for the rest of your life. You had made a good choice.

As you stepped outside, the cool breeze greeted you, and you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was as if the universe itself was acknowledging your newfound freedom. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, savoring the feeling of lightness that now enveloped you. Walking down the street, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city seemed different somehow—brighter, more alive. You noticed the little things that you had overlooked before: the vibrant colors of the flowers in the park, the laughter of children playing, the distant hum of traffic. It was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the weight of your past.

For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace. The past no longer held you captive. You were free to live your life, to pursue your passions, and to surround yourself with people who truly cared for you. It was the beginning of a new chapter. You get home to your apartment and sit at your couch grabbing some blankets and making hot cocoa. You thought to yourself that this is what you exactly needed. Watching barbie movies in your new cozy apartment without any burden past onto your shoulders, the little you would have been so proud, making you smile at the thought. This was it. Nothing was going to stop you now.

That's what you thought.

It has been 2 weeks since you've moved in your apartment and you're getting ready for your ballet rehearsal. You were especially excited about this as you were going to perform swan lake when you got to enact one of the most important and famous characters, how cool was that? As you were about to grab your pink bowed pointe shoes a sudden “ping!” notification was heard from your phone. You turned your head and went to grab it expecting a message from one of your close friends or even your ballet mates but all you were met with was a message from a person you least wanted a one from.

Dick. Your supposed older brother is asking you to hang out with him. At this very moment. You dropped your phone and stared at nothing while breathing heavily. You feel your heartbeat rapidly breathing, the knot in your stomach growing more tighter and tighter each minute you let the thought sink into your brain. You almost tripped at your foot as a result of your vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to happen. When-how?-why?! Why was this happening now? You were only starting to feel like everything in your life was finally starting to go your way. Why did this have to happen? It was as if the universe was mocking you. You bit your lips until it bled but you couldn't care less. You were numb. You hadn't even realized that you were nowate for today's rehearsals. With trembling hands you reached for your phone and shakily pressed the button “block” as you silently prayed that he-they would never come in contact with you ever again.

Of Course that wouldn't happen though. The universe was never really on your side.

Dick? What's happening here?

A sudden deep voice spoke, bringing Dick out of his deep trance. He turned around and saw his father standing outside the door, looking suspiciously at him. He stared at his father and saw the look on his face—full of confusion and unfamiliarity, not towards him but the room he was in. "I-it's Y/n," he stuttered, the name tasting so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to roll around in the scent of you. Was that weird? No—he just missed you, that's all.

"What about them?" Bruce's voice carried a nonchalance that almost made Dick angry. How could he be so indifferent about his precious sibling? With a hard voice, Dick replied, "They're gone." Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the response. What did he mean you were gone? You were just here when... Wait, when? He worriedly glanced at Dick, and as if understanding, Dick answered, "I know."

Bruce inhaled sharply and stepped inside the room, your lingering scent greeting him. Your trophies adorned the walls. This was your room? No, it couldn't be. This was too little. This was just... not it. The difference between his other childrens bedrooms and yours was so noticeable. You didn't have any fancy chandelier decorating yours. You didn't have your own bathroom.

Bruce's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The neatly arranged trophies, the faded posters on the walls, and the small bed that seemed too empty now. He walked over to the desk and picked up a framed photo of you, when was this? You look so.. Grown? How old were you? Were you old enough to live alone? How come he didn't know? Did you have a job-were you even allowed to have one? he clenches his fist as he stares at the sight of your image and sees your bright smile. His heart ached at the sight. How had he missed this? How had he not noticed the signs?

Dick watched his father, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to scream, to demand why Bruce hadn't paid more attention, why he hadn't been there for you. But he knew he wasn't any better than his adoptive father was. Besides, it wouldn't change anything. The damage was done.

Bruce set the photo back down and turned to Dick, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He saw the tiny diary and other papers scattered across the floor and picked them up, reading them one by one as he slowly spiraled into regret and guilt. Dick watched as he knew this was going to make him understand. Today made it all clear to him. Why there was a nagging feeling inside of him saying that there was something missing in the manor. It was why the sweet muffled music of the orchestra haunted the manor, the same kind of music haunting their bedroom. Like it was a reminder, a warning. That something special was lost. The soothing sound of humming, light footsteps around the manor now gone. The pink bows tied around the handles of the stairs, the love that the plants receive now nowhere to be found. It was because you took that love with you.

"We need to find them," Bruce spoke, his voice steady but filled with urgency. His knees bounce as his Jaws tighten anxiously.

Dick nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "We'll find them," he replied, his voice firm. "And we'll make things right."

As they left the room, Bruce carrying the framed image of you tightly, almost as if he was paranoid that something would take it from him, and dick gently running his thumb through the texture of your pink, bowed, bright diary, the weight of their mission settled on their shoulders. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to bring you back. The silence of the manor was a stark reminder of what they had lost, and they were ready to do whatever it took to make amends.

Bruce was anxious. He didn't have a plan. Ironic, because Batman always had a plan. It was an unspoken rule—Batman was always prepared. But now, he found himself at a loss, his mind racing with uncertainty. Perhaps it was because he knew every single person in Gotham. As the guardian of Lady Gotham, he prided himself on understanding the intricate web of connections and motives that defined the city's inhabitants. He calculated every person's actions, paid attention to every detail, and watched from the heart of Gotham.

He paid extensive attention to everyone... except you.

It wasn't intentional. He had always been consumed by the weight of his responsibilities, the never-ending battle against crime, and the need to protect the city. But now, standing in your room, surrounded by the remnants of your presence, he realized his failure. The irony of it all struck him—Batman, the meticulous planner, had overlooked the most important person in his life.

Now he was desperate, he may not have a plan but he was desperate. He'll do anything to get you back. Any possible way to get back all the times he failed you, when he failed to be a father to you. He swore to protect you and never let you out of his sight ever again.

Dick wasn't any better. As he walked, his thoughts played tricks on him, but in a way he almost relished. His mind insisted that you must be so scared without him, without your older brother to protect you. He didn't even consider the possibility that you could be an independent, fully functioning individual on your own, or the fact that you had grown and most likely abandoned the thought of "bonding" with him. In this moment, his mind was consumed by the image of you and the curiosity of what more you had within yourself that he had neglected. His anxiousness grew, causing him to bite his nails and run his hands through his hair in frustration. His breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was as if he had turned feral, his bloodshot blue eyes itching to be blessed with a vision of your face.

The more he thought about it, the more his mind played tricks on him. He imagined you scared and alone, wondering why your older brother wasn't there to protect you. He couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of his neglect. His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. What if you were hurt? What if you were in danger? What if you had given up on ever reconnecting with him?

The guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had missed so many opportunities to be there for you. His heart ached at the thought of all the moments you had spent alone, craving the attention and love that he hadn't given.

As he continued to walk, his thoughts became more erratic. He imagined you thriving without him, having found your own path and your own sense of independence. The possibility that you no longer needed him stung, but it also filled him with a strange sense of pride. You had grown, despite everything, and that was something to be admired.

Still, his mind couldn't rest. He needed to see you, to know that you were okay. The uncertainty was driving him to the brink of madness. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, determined to find you and make amends.

he wouldn't rest until he saw you again.

Both Bruce and Dick disregarded everything around them, unaware of the curious look Tim gave them. He followed quietly behind their backs, raising an eyebrow as he wondered why they hadn't noticed his presence yet. Normally, these two were incredibly guarded, so Tim was shocked by their lack of awareness. What could have made them so unfocused?

Bruce—the Batman—and Dick—the first Robin and now Nightwing—were both engrossed in a particular object. They seemed to be completely absorbed, their usual vigilance overshadowed by their intense fixation. Tim watched as Bruce's eyes remained glued to a framed photo on the desk, his expression a mix of regret and determination. Meanwhile, Dick's gaze was fixed on the pink notebook in his hands, his fingers gently tracing the glittery cover.

Tim couldn't help but wonder what was so important about these items that it made two of the most vigilant people he knew drop their guard. The framed photo of you, smiling brightly, seemed to hold Bruce in a trance, while the pink notebook, adorned with bows and glitters, seemed to capture all of Dick's attention. They were so consumed by these objects that they had let down the walls they had built through years of vigilantism.

It had to be something incredibly significant—something better yet, special.

“What are you two doing?” asked Tim, suddenly breaking the silence between the three of them as he watched the father and son duo flinch, obviously flabbergasted at his sudden interruption at their deep trance. He observed as their face turned from shock to going back to their frowning faces making him mirror the same expression. Dick clenches his jaw and exhales sharply preparing himself to speak when he is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice he would always recognize.

"What is going on here?" a figure with deep forest-green eyes asked, standing tall in the shadows, his cold demeanor unwavering. Dick's eyes met his, and he said his name. "Damian. Wha—"

"You have deliberately abandoned your promise to train with me today. Why?" Damian's voice was sharp, full of accusation. Shoot. That was right. Dick had forgotten to train with his younger brother today. But it didn't matter now; his other sibling needed him, and it was about time they knew about them too. He glanced at Bruce's unfocused state, feral and restless.

"It's about Y/n," Dick said firmly.

Tim stood still for a moment, trying to figure out who "Y/n" was, while Damian immediately sneered at the mention of his "rival." He couldn't pinpoint why your presence angered him so much. Maybe it was because he had to share the title of being the Wayne heir with someone so... normal, someone so far below his level. You both were so different. Perhaps he was jealous of you for being so normal, for not having to worry about tainting your hands with blood and painting others black and blue. What did you even do? He didn't know, but he bet it was something a normal civilian would.

Meanwhile, his peripheral vision caught Tim standing still, deep in thought. Damian saw him processing quickly, his mind running fast as he tried to figure out who you were and why you were so relevant at the moment. Then suddenly—aha! Tim remembered now! You were the kid who had pestered him non-stop about some game.

Tim's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. The realization hit him like a wave. He had been so dismissive back then, but now he understood the significance. Guilt washed over him, mixing with curiosity and concern. What had happened to you? Why were you so important now?

Damian's sneer softened slightly, replaced with a look of contemplation. “What about them?” asked damian. While Tim wondered the same. Suddenly Bruce's cold and deep voice said “they're gone.” Damian raising an eyebrow of his response, and Tim answering “gone? Gone how?” switching his gaze from dick and Bruce's form awaiting for one of them to answer his question as the tension in the room thickens. “I mean that they're gone. All their things not found in their room, no trace of them not in the mansion, and not even a goodbye.” Tim and Damian frowned at the same time. Damian scoffed and thought you were probably just making a big scene so the attention would be on you. Bruce said “we need to find them. Now.” his voice left no choice for them to abide by his command.

Now alone in the CCTV room, Tim let his bored gaze wander over the footage from a long time ago, his palm supporting his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He watched as you sat, his fingers tapping the keyboard to increase the volume. You hummed lightly at the footage, a simple gesture but not to him. Your voice was so familiar to him. His eyes dilated as you continued humming, your voice sweet as honey, as light as a mother's touch trying to lull her baby to sleep.

He zoomed the footage closer and closer, almost as if he wanted to go through the screen just to hear your sweet, angelic, melancholic voice. Your voice was like a soft fur blanket to him. He didn't know if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he swore you were covered by a soft light, hugging your form and kissing your skin gently.

Tim sat in your "presence" for a bit, soaking in your voice. As he listened, memories flooded back. He recalled distant muffled sounds within the thin walls, lulling him to sleep, chasing away the demons that kept him awake at night. He had so desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, and he remembered thinking maybe it was just a voice in his head, or maybe a real-life angel offering him salvation from suffering and the sweet pleasure of sleep. Now he knew, the angel was called "Y/n."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer, his breathing steadying as he watched the footage. The realization hit him hard. How had he missed this before? How had he not recognized that comforting voice? The gentle humming, the presence that had brought him solace on sleepless nights—it was all you.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch, his heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. He remembered the nights he had spent tormented by nightmares, the countless times he had struggled to find peace. Your voice had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen the importance of your presence in the manor? Tim's thoughts spiraled as he recalled the moments he had dismissed you, the times he had been too wrapped up in his own world to notice you reaching out. He needed to see you. To hear your voice, to take you back, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness as his forehead kisses the cold, dirty floor, or to maybe steal you back without a word. He didn't know, he just had to see you.

The footage continued to play, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind. He sat there, never unwavering, always in awe of your voice and never taking his attention off you. He sat there,Unaware that he had been playing the same footage for hours and hours. His dilated eyes worshipping you as if you were a god.

He felt a deep sense of loss, realizing that you were gone, and he hadn't even had the chance to thank you for all the nights you had unknowingly saved him. Determined, he knew he had to find you. He had to make things right.

After some time, finally. Tim's resolve hardened as he stood up, his eyes never leaving the screen. He would find you, and he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him. With renewed purpose, he left the CCTV room, ready to join Bruce and Dick in their search. Together, they would bring you back and rebuild the bond that had been neglected for far too long.

With much focus on the object of his obsession attention, he failed to notice a tall figure in the shadows, watchin. Thinking after all these years they have finally come to their senses, realizing the greatest gift of all was right under their noses.

Damian was a dangerous person. To be fair, he was raised to be an assassin and an heir to the throne from the moment he was born. Not even a moment out of the womb did he catch a glimpse of the normal life he so desperately wanted. He trained day and night, month after month, year after year, to become the perfect product of the world's greatest detective and the daughter of the king of assassins. Imagine the inner turmoil within him when he didn't meet the expectations set upon his shoulders. All his life, all he knew was to fight. In any situation, his first instinct was to fight and guard himself for his life.

Sometimes, he wondered how they expected a child to lead thousands of assassins to create a bloodbath. Behind his pride and arrogance was a deep-seated anger towards those in charge of his fate. He was furious that his innocence had been stripped away, clawing its way back to him, but ultimately, they succeeded in giving him a future burdened with the weight of guilt for painting the young and innocent red.

Damian's upbringing left him with a constant battle within himself. The expectations placed upon him were immense, and he often felt like he was suffocating under the pressure. The relentless training, the unyielding discipline, and the need to prove himself consumed his every waking moment. The anger he felt was not just directed at those who shaped his fate but also at himself for not being able to escape it. Many didn't know of it but he found it hard to be Robin. The conflict between leaning to your instincts or “your- now- morals” was hard. To kill and to save was wrong and somehow to save and to forgive was right.

Despite his impressive skills and abilities, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something normal. He envied those who lived ordinary lives, free from the burden of bloodshed and violence. He wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood filled with laughter and innocence rather than combat and survival. As to why he wonders what more could you possibly want? He was so sure that you had so much wonderful time living such a luxurious life in the manor and never having to prove yourself to be worthy of something in being able to get the object of your desire. How could you run away from this life? From your life? You were so unfair, so selfish.

As he continued to grapple with these conflicting emotions, Damian's exterior remained cold and guarded. He rarely allowed anyone to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that yearned for a different life. But deep down, the scars of his past lingered, a constant reminder of the life he was forced into and the innocence that was stolen from him.

He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and released a heavy sigh. What a bother. Making his way to every corner of the manor to "inspect" and see if you had left any trace of yourself there. As he walked down the path, letting his bored state guide him, he glanced at the thick walls and noticed some unfamiliar works of art. His gaze roamed around the room, settling on various paintings he had never noticed before. It was as if the paintings spoke for themselves, screaming out for anyone to notice and appreciate them. The different textures, colors, shapes, and stories behind the art captivated him.

Damian liked to think that he noticed everything and had the ability to be highly aware of his surroundings, whether he was familiar with them or not. But at this moment, he paused, questioning himself. If he was truly aware, how had he managed to overlook these breathtaking canvases filled with bright colors that made him... feel things? He took a step forward and saw a tiny signature on the left side of one of the canvases. He brought his hand up to softly caress the painting, gently and carefully, as if he were afraid that a mere touch could destroy it.

Engrossed in admiring the paintings, he failed to notice the tall figure beside him. It was only when the man spoke, "Master Damian," addressing him, that he flinched slightly.

"Ah, Alfred. My apologies, I was a bit distracted by the art adorning the walls, which seems to be... unfamiliar to me. Would you mind telling me where my father keeps buying these paintings? I must say I'm quite... impressed."

Alfred frowned and smiled sadly at the youngest Wayne. "Well, Master Damian, these paintings are actually not your father's doing. Rather, they are Master Y/n's work of art."

Damian's eyes widened in surprise. He turned back to the paintings and said "Y/n did these?" he asked, almost incredulous. The realization that you had created such beautiful and meaningful art struck him deeply. He didn't even know that you could draw much less create such.. Beautiful art. While he was thinking about it he realize that he had complimented you, you!

"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred confirmed. "Y/n spent countless hours creating these pieces. Each one holds a story, a piece of their heart."

Damian felt a pang of emotion through his chest, he couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was somehow nagging him about something, or rather someone. His fingers traced the brushstrokes with a newfound reverence, as if trying to understand the emotions you had captured on canvas.

"I never knew..." Damian whispered, more to himself than to Alfred. The layers of vibrant colors, the delicate details, and the raw emotions conveyed through your art were all a testament to the depth of your soul. He felt a connection to you that he hadn't realized before, a sense of camaraderie and understanding. And he was totally not dissing you just minutes ago.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder. "Art has a way of speaking to us, Master Damian. It reveals truths that words often cannot. Y/n's art is a reflection of their experiences, their joys, and their sorrows. It is a part of them that they have shared with the world."

Damian nodded, taking a step back to fully appreciate the entirety of your work. Your art had opened a door to a deeper connection, and he was willing to walk through it. He didn't know why but in a way this was proof that you had always had some kind of connection to him.

As Damian and Alfred stood there, surrounded by the masterpieces you had created, a sense of resolve settled over Damian. He frowns and takes a look around all the work of your art. His style doesn't differ much from yours. the caress of brush ever so slightly seen, and the emotions behind the soul of your paintings, like his. What made you so similar to him? And that, he will not know until he finds you.

He knew that finding you and bringing you back was not just about making amends—it was about recognizing and celebrating the unique and irreplaceable person you were.

Y/n considered themselves a keen observer, attuned to the delicate nuances of the world around them. They noticed the gentle yet sometimes harsh swaying of the wind as it danced with the leaves, creating a symphony of nature's whispers. They noticed the lady sitting on the park bench, quietly absorbing the view of the home she once grew up in, her memories interwoven with the present. They noticed the ducks by the pond, gracefully gliding through the water alongside their mother, a portrait of serene tranquility.

Y/n noticed everything, yet no one noticed them. And it was fine. They had long accepted this reality, enduring the loneliness of being invisible in a world where they saw so much. The weight of being unnoticed had become a familiar companion, a constant presence that shaped their existence. In the silent spaces between moments, Y/n found solace in their observations, finding beauty in the overlooked and meaning in the mundane.

So why were they just noticing you just now? Why? When you have just started to accept and move on. Why must they bring the horrors of the past when your current life is filled with hope arraying a new journey, now destroyed.

Why couldn’t Dick just let you be, drifting away in the silence you’d crafted? Why couldn’t he leave you to fade quietly, just as you had promised yourself you would, a ghost of your former self, untouched and unbothered? Yet there he was, an ever-present weight, his hands—rough, calloused, scarred by years of untold burdens—forcing your face into the past, as if his touch could rewrite history. His fingers dug into your skin, twisted into the soft contours of your face, tearing through the years of numbness, of denial, dragging you back to a place you had sworn you’d never return.

And then, Tim. Oh, Tim. The boy who once didn’t even see you, who barely even remembered your name when it lingered in the air of the manor. Now, he’s relentless, his fingers tapping into your phone with the same quiet insistence that his presence once had in the dark halls of that place you used to call home. You want to scream, to rip the silence apart, to do anything but feel what you’re feeling now—this suffocating pull to return to them, to face them, even when you know you never should have to again.

The ache swells, the lump in your throat is a tangible thing now, a choking presence you can’t swallow down. It’s the same searing pain that’s lingered, festering, hidden beneath layers of what you pretended was healing. How cruel it is, to have spent so much time trying to break free, only to find that some things, some people, are never quite done with you.

The ghost of them lingers, burrows deeper, with every unanswered message. They still haunt you, even from afar. You hate them for it, for still holding the power to break you open, to make you bleed from places you thought had long scarred over. It feels like a thousand wounds opening up again—slow, deliberate, bleeding you dry in a way you don’t know how to stop.

You stared blankly into the emptiness, feeling numb, when suddenly a hand rested on your shoulder. You flinched instinctively and turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened as you recognized your ballet teacher standing behind you. "Miss Kavinsky! I-I... Hi! I’m—" you stammered, but she quickly cut you off with a smile.

"Y/N L/N-Wayne, I know," she said with a warm tone. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."

You winced slightly, the sound barely audible, but Miss Kavinsky didn’t seem to notice. "Come on, let’s meet the other dancers. I’m sure they’re eager to meet you."

The surprise hit you hard, and you stuttered, "M-me?" You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

She grinned, a playful mix of amusement and mild disbelief on her face. "Yes, you. You're kind of a celebrity here, Wayne. Not surprised with a talent like yours."

Her words lingered in the air, but you went quiet, caught off guard by the compliment. You couldn’t fully process it, the idea of anyone looking up to you seemed so foreign, so distant. And somewhere in the haze, you barely registered the way she had called you "Wayne.”

As you and the other dancers gathered at the stage, a wave of anxiety washed over you. The weight of thoughts about Tim and Dick pressed heavily on your mind, and the pressure of the moment only made it worse. Just as your mind started to spiral, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey! You're Y/N, right? I'm Desiree, but you can just call me Des."

You forced a smile, barely hearing Miss Kavinsky as her voice faded into the background, announcing something about attendance. Your attention was now solely focused on Des, who had just broken the ice. You shook her hand and smiled more genuinely, the tension in your body loosening up a bit.

"Hi, Des. Yeah, you already know who I am. Nice to meet you."

You both exchanged a quiet laugh, and the chatter around you faded as you continued talking. For a moment, you felt like you could breathe again. You asked the usual questions: "How old are you?" "What's your favorite ballet?" The conversation flowed easily, but when your name was suddenly called for attendance, you were snapped back to reality.

"Here!" you called out, your voice getting lost in the sea of dancers.

But then Des said something that made you freeze.

"So, are you excited that both of you are here?" she asked with a playful giggle, her smile sweet and innocent.

You blinked, confused, but smiled through it. "Both of us...?" you repeated, trying to follow along.

Des chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. "You and your sister, silly! It must be so nice to perform together. My brother wouldn't even try to get into ballet, you know?"

Her words, lighthearted as they were, suddenly made your world feel like it was crashing down around you. You felt a cold panic begin to rise. Your fingers instinctively dug into your palms, almost drawing blood. Your smile wavered, barely holding on, while your eyes fluttered, teetering on the edge of tears. Des’s voice became distant, her words fading into a muffled blur as your thoughts spiraled out of control, bloodshot eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your heart raced, and the chaos inside you was too much to contain.

In that very moment, her name echoed through the air, sharp and clear. Without thinking, your gaze shifted, and you locked eyes with her. Her wide, unblinking stare pierced through the noise, anchoring you in place. For a fleeting second, you wondered if she had been watching you all along—since the instant your name was called, or perhaps even before. You couldn't be sure.

What you did know, however, was that the weight of her gaze felt like a force, pulling you into a quiet abyss. It made you feel small, fragile—as if you were prey beneath the steady, unyielding gaze of a predator. A shiver ran through you, and suddenly, all you wanted was to escape, to flee from the suffocating intensity of her eyes, which seemed to strip away every layer of protection you had left.

The fates were clearly playing with you now.

Cassandra was an exceptionally gifted individual, much like her siblings, each of whom possessed their own unique abilities. From the moment she first pursued ballet, her family showered her with unwavering love and support. She had access to training that most could only dream of—privileges afforded to her not because of her wealth, but because she was no ordinary person. She was Batgirl, the daughter of Batman by choice, a mantle she wore with pride. So, when an invitation arrived for her to join the prestigious Swan Lake performance alongside other top-tier dancers, it hardly came as a surprise. After all, excellence was something she had always embraced, both on the stage and off.

As she gets ready for her first rehearsal she can't help but notice that some of her siblings are missing. She shook it off and ate her food but also not abandoning the thought of asking about the absence of her siblings and father, to a familiar companion of their family:Alfred. As where Alfred only replies with them being busy about.. Something, yet said to her to fret not and just worry her mind about her ballet play, quickly chasing away her concerns for her family with a smile that made her feel lighthearted. With a chuckle she got up and made her way to the location of where the dancers were told to meet.

Cass had always believed she was the only one in her family who truly appreciated the delicate artistry of ballet. Her passion for the graceful movements, the precision of each step, and the beauty of the performances had always felt like a private world to her, a world she inhabited alone. She couldn’t recall a single moment where anyone in her family shared even the slightest interest in it. So, when she entered the crowded theater that evening, expecting to be surrounded only by fellow ballet enthusiasts, she was taken aback by something unexpected.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted you. For a fleeting moment, her heart skipped a beat, not from the rush of seeing someone in the crowd, but from an overwhelming sense of familiarity that washed over her. There you were, standing like a ghost from a forgotten past, an unexplainable connection sparking between you both. Cass couldn’t place it, but it was as though she had known you forever, even though your paths had never crossed before.

Her mind wandered, replaying the memories that had been buried deep within her. A distant image flashed across her thoughts: she was standing in a room filled with soft, pastel-colored fabrics, the scent of leather and polish hanging in the air. Two pairs of pointe shoes rested beside one another on the floor—one was familiar, worn and well-loved, the other brand new, the laces still fresh and untangled. The second pair, the one that felt entirely foreign, immediately piqued her curiosity. She was certain it wasn’t hers, yet the connection to it lingered, something so subtle but undeniable.

The realization hit her like a wave. She didn’t know you, not consciously, but somehow she felt bound to you, as if fate had woven your lives together in some strange, invisible thread long before either of you had even been aware of it.

The entire day she watched and observed you. She paid extra attention to every detail of your expressions, body language, and posture. She didn't know why but you seemed to be very clear–in her case, in distress, like you were panicking over something. And she didn't know why she somehow hated seeing you that way. As the minutes passed, she found herself simply just staring at you. Not even for a fleeting moment had she taken her gaze of you. She watched and observed tensely at every person who looks at you, who talks to you, who breathes near you. Almost as if she was guarding you. As they were told to gather she followed silently after the crowd and placed herself purposely in front of the other side from you. She scoffs in amusement as you barely notice her, too focused on your own little world. As minutes continued to pass, suddenly a girl broke you out of her thoughts with her voice making you flinch. Her breath hitched as irritation started to crawl their way through her chest. Why couldn't the girl be more gentle with you? Can't she see that you were clearly stressed? She frowns slightly at the girl, surprising herself by the sudden change of mood. She holds her breath and watches you like a hawk would at its prey. Her vision was filled with your now loosen frame, giggling with the girl who approached you earlier. A new feeling started to claw its way through her chest, now bigger and stronger. The green monster eating her up when suddenly the call of her voice brought her out of her thoughts as she, for a moment took her eyes off of you to answer quietly to her name and as she bring back her gaze to you, quickly to not miss anything she might take the pleasure in seeing, suddenly your eyes are on her too. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of your gaze who held such horror in them, as if seeing her was too much for you. As she was your living nightmare sitting right in front of you.

The remaining time the dancers practiced, you avoided her gaze and her presence. The more you avoided her, the more she itched to be in your presence alone, to be near you. The whole time at the practice she was, for the first time, distracted. Her thoughts are consumed by you. Her thoughts came up with every question she could ask about her and your current situation. What were you doing here? Why didn't she know? Were you at the manor? No, if you were she would've known.. Right? Okay if you weren't, then why weren't you? Those questions alone made her uneasy and frustrated. As it was time to go home, she watched as you hurriedly got out and quickly went home to wherever your home was. The nagging feeling screamed at her to follow you but decided against it and thought that going home and bringing the news to her family might help more. After all, they were stronger together.

She stormed into the manor, urgency in her every step, and sought out Alfred with a single, breathless demand: "Boys. Where?" Without hesitation, he led her to them. Her gaze fell upon them, intense and unyielding, her pupils trembling with an unspoken storm. She whispered a single name, a breathless, haunting utterance: "Y/N." The boys, in unison, responded, "We know."

A deep breath escaped her, the weight of their actions—venturing after you without so much as a word—forgotten for the moment. She snatched a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys in a frantic dance of their own. The screen flickered to life, revealing a video that stole the breath from the room. There you were, dancing—each movement a testament to grace, each step more captivating than the last.

The world had already fallen under your spell. The internet buzzed with adoration, praising the way your every turn, every leap, every pause held the audience in thrall. Under the stage lights, you seemed more than human—a celestial being, your form bathed in soft light, glowing like an ethereal angel, kissed by the very air around you. The boys stood frozen, their gaze fixed upon you, entranced.

Your presence was no illusion. You were a goddess of their own making, and in that moment, they knew: they were already devoted, bound by the silent understanding that they would worship you, body and soul.

As the video played, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The boys, once brimming with urgency and tension, now stood motionless, their eyes locked onto the screen, as if spellbound. Every fluid movement you made seemed to breathe life into the very air around them. They couldn’t look away; they didn’t want to. Your every step, every pirouette, was poetry in motion, a delicate balance of strength and grace that made their hearts race.

The way you arched your back mid-spin, the soft brush of your fingertips against your skin, the quiet breath you took before every leap—it all drew them in, slowly, methodically, as though they were witnessing something far beyond the ordinary. Each turn of your body mirrored the very rhythm of their own hearts, synchronized with the ethereal pulse of the music, and they couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one sacred moment.

Your eyes, though focused on the stage, seemed to flicker with a spark of something far deeper, something they couldn't quite place but could almost taste. It was like watching a dream unfold, where every movement became a metaphor—each glide across the stage spoke to something eternal, something untouchable. They found themselves lost in the elegance of your form, the way your body seemed to move with a natural fluidity that defied the laws of physics.

The lights above you softened, caressing your silhouette, painting you in a divine glow. And in that moment, they felt small, insignificant even, as if you had been carved out of stardust itself, too perfect to comprehend, yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the skill of your dance—it was your presence, your essence that held them captive.

They felt an almost primal pull, as though your every movement was speaking directly to their souls. The way your body spoke without words—your elegance and power blending seamlessly—rendered them speechless. They were entranced by the aura you carried, intoxicated by your beauty and the mystery you exuded, a beauty that wasn’t merely skin-deep but radiated from within, a force of nature.

For a fleeting moment, they could almost believe that you were more than human, that you were something higher, something divine. They stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, as if they had been granted a glimpse of something sacred—something that no one else could understand. And in that moment, they knew that they would follow you, worship you, in a devotion that transcended mere admiration. You weren’t just captivating; you were everything. They couldn't believe that someone like you had been overlooked by then.

Bruce now understands that with no plan in mind he would still follow you till the end of the earth. Oh his little baby. He would do anything to earn your love and affection for him. To see you and to bask under the ray of sunshine your smile brings. To feel your presence alone.

Dick now understands that he owes you more than a few dinners or dates as siblings. No. He owes you the world. As guilt eats his flesh up one by one, mourning all the versions of you that he could have witnessed right before his eyes are now long gone. But that's okay, he'll make it up to you.

Tim now understands that you were surely his angel. His savior. His form of salvation. He could watch you all day and never get bored. He could listen to you all day until his ears bled but never say a word.

Damian now understands that the disbelief he felt when looking at your paintings full of emotions overflowing with a sense of overwhelming feel, was now long gone because he knew that only such being like you, almost like a supernatural being, could be the only one who has the ability to capture such deep emotions in one painting, to be able to create such beautiful, breathtaking object.

Cassandra now understands why she felt like she somehow had a connection to you and that was because she was your sister. And as she was a daughter to batman by choice, that she will also be a sister by choice to you. She was an observer, someone who guards-and she will guard you with her life for all eternity.

As the overwhelming tension fills the room Alfred stands at the corner with a small smile. “apologies master y/n had I done this sooner, you would have not slipped through my grasp dear child. Do not fret for your family is coming to get you.”

Ah, Alfred, the mastermind. He knew this would happen. He just needed to intertwine a little. He did not worry because he knew. He knew that leaving your bedroom door open the moment he knew Dick was coming over to the manor while the others were busy, and knowing Dick's tendency to wander off in the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, the chances of him finding your room were high. He knew that rearranging your trophies inside your room (which you had told him to get rid of) would pique the interest of your family even more. He knew that decorating your hidden paintings around the minimalist and empty walls of the house would catch the attention of the youngest Wayne. He knew that playing those soft melodies of your voice through the small TV in the kitchen would enchant a certain sleep-deprived boy, making him miss the sweet sound of your voice.

Alfred knew that when Cassandra was called for the big ballet play, you would be at the same play too, as you had told him over the phone, giggling and excited with a high-pitched voice. He didn't bother to tell you about your sister's similar invitation, nor did he inform your sister about yours. He knew every single detail, every thread that needed to be woven together to create this intricate tapestry of reconnection.

Alfred's wisdom was like a silent symphony, orchestrating events with a delicate touch. He understood the nuances of each family member, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their desires. He knew that Dick's curiosity would lead him to your room, where the trophies would spark memories and questions. He knew that Damian's keen eye for detail would be drawn to the vibrant paintings, each brushstroke a testament to your hidden talents. He knew that Tim, in his sleep-deprived state, would be captivated by the melodies of your voice, a soothing balm to his restless mind.

Alfred's heart ached with the knowledge of your absence, but he also held hope. Hope that these carefully placed breadcrumbs would lead your family back to you, to the realization of what they had lost and the determination to make amends. He knew that the path to reconciliation was not an easy one, but it was a journey worth taking.

As the days passed, Alfred watched with a knowing smile as the pieces began to fall into place. He saw the flicker of recognition in Dick's eyes, the softening of Damian's demeanor, and the spark of determination in Tim's gaze. He knew that the seeds he had planted were beginning to grow, and soon, the family would be whole again.

Alfred was getting old and he couldn't bare the vision of his children Bruce and you, drifting away from each other, and you from him. Maybe it was his own selfish reason but he couldn't help it. He raised you from the moment you got to the manor. Teached you everything he knew and gave you all the love he could. He watched you grew up and maybe it was a moment of rush that he allowed himself to be selfish and turn the tables around.

In the quiet moments, Alfred allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought of you, the child who had brought so much light into his life. He knew that you deserved to be seen, to be cherished, and to be loved. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that you found your way back to the family that needed you just as much as you needed them.

Authors note: I'm sorry I took so long in writing this! I hope yall enjoy the 10k+ words I wrote. One tip tho is to read and observe the details very carefully! Dw I'm gonna explain it soon tho. Hope yall enjoy this cuz imma take a break after this.

#batfam x batbro #yandere batfam #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #yandere batboys #batfam #neglected reader #amfstargirl #Spotify #tip toes

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starsinthesky5 · 8 days ago

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so high school || joe burrow x reader

description: who knew that an unexpected relationship with a guy you never thought you’d be with would be the happiest, healthiest, and most special relationship in your life? it makes you feel like you’re back in high school and have a crush on the sweetest boy you’ve ever met ;)

a/n: completely reworked and basically a brand new version with more plot and detail of the so high school fic from last year ;) also, a much needed little thing to make everyone smile after yesterday’s games and because we all miss mr. joey b so badly

word count: 25k

warnings: hint of smut, too much fluff to handle, language, suggestive themes. MDNI.

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique

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You took a deep breath, letting the salty aroma of the ocean fill your lungs as your eyes fluttered shut. The soft, sun-warmed sand moved beneath your toes as you wiggled them, savoring the feeling you had been missing for quite some time. The air around you was alive, carrying a sense of youth and freedom, like the whisper of summers gone by. You heard the soft mew of the seagulls above you, their melody threading through the faint hum of a classic summer pop song floating from distant loudspeakers. The sounds and smells were so familiar, so nostalgic, that for a moment you could almost feel 16 again—back at this very place where every day felt endless, and joy was as simple as sand between your toes and the sun on your skin.

Sweetwater Cove.

Home.

You were finally home. Not just to the sandy shores and rolling waves of your childhood, but to the one place that had always felt like peace. But home wasn’t just this place. Home was him. It was in his laugh, his smile, and the crinkles around his softening blue eyes whenever they met yours.

“Y/N, they said they’re about 30 minutes away!” Joe called from the patio door, where he had been standing for about five minutes, admiring you in your most natural state—so carefree and light as you relaxed on the beach. “Come inside so we can get everything set up,”.

You took in one final breath of the ocean air before tilting your head back with a grin. “Okayyyy,” you said, looking over at him. You noticed his soft golden locks curling at the ends, looking as if they hadn’t been brushed through in a few hours. It had that “post-ocean water” look—slightly messy from the time you’d spent playing in the waves earlier. But somehow, it was perfect, as if the saltwater and breeze had styled it just right, making him look effortlessly handsome, like he belonged to the sea and this moment with you.

You carefully got up from your spot on the sand, dusting off any clinging to your sunkissed skin, and made your way inside the house, wiping your feet on the mat outside since you had just cleaned. Joe stood at the kitchen counter, sorting through the bags of food he had ordered from one of your favorite restaurants—The Salty Gull. “I’m just gonna put out the quick bites for now so the rest doesn’t get cold,” he says, pulling out the seaside shrimp skewers, tidepool tacos, island BBQ drumsticks, and a few more of your absolute favorite items from their coastal themed menu.

“Thank you, Joey,” you beamed, your heart fluttering as you watched your boyfriend go all out to make your beach reunion with your cousins special. From the nostalgic spread of food to the goofy high school games—like a spin-the-bottle twist where dares and shots replaced the usual kisses—he’d thought of everything. There were boxes of White Claws, High Noons, and bottles of Fireball, all lined up and ready for fun. And to top it off, he’d curated the perfect playlist of old summer hits, from Hey, Soul Sister to Beauty and the Beat to Party in the U.S.A, each song a reminder of carefree nights you spent here in years past. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth fill your body, grateful for how much effort he’d put into making this moment feel just like the good old days.

Every summer, your cousins would come to Sweetwater Cove, your home, for a few weeks of sun-soaked memories. You and your older cousins used to make it a tradition—heading down to the beach together for lazy days, impromptu games till 3 in the morning, and nights filled with drunken laughter and stupid teenage fun that almost had you at the doorstep of the local police station. But as time passed, life and responsibilities crept in, and it became harder and harder to coordinate. The summers grew shorter, and the days of carefree fun began to fade into the background. So, when you told Joe about your precious summers at Sweetwater Cove, how the beach had always been a place of laughter and connection for you, he didn’t hesitate. He was determined to bring some of that magic back, to give you a piece of your past amidst the present since you now lived with him in Ohio. Without a second thought, he took control and made it happen—inviting your cousins to join you for a few days during your beach trip just to see the smile on your face grow a little more.

You honestly couldn’t get over the fact that Joe just…existed. How could someone be so effortlessly perfect at everything? At being the kind of partner who made your heart race with just a look, who somehow managed to keep you feeling the same butterflies you’d felt the very first time you saw him. It didn’t seem fair that someone could be so good at easily making you feel giddy and adored all at once, like you were falling in love over and over again, every single day. He always thought of you in everything he did, whether it was picking up your favorite snack on his way home from practice without you even asking, or remembering the little stories you told him months ago and threading them into your days like they were part of his own memories. Whether it was planning thoughtful surprises like this week at the Cove, or simply pulling you close in the middle of a conversation because he couldn’t stand to not be touching you. Joe had this way of making you feel like the center of his universe, as if nothing else mattered but you.

When he told you he wanted to experience the summers you couldn’t stop raving about—the ones you’d talk about for hours with a dreamy smile and that look—you almost fell out of your chair. You had always dreamed of bringing Joe to the Cove, but the timing never seemed quite right. Life always had a way of interfering—whether it was work, commitments, or simply the Cove being at the height of its summer season. Knowing how much Joe valued peace and privacy, you’d never want to drag him out here in the midst of all the tourists, locals, and teenage chaos. But it was as if the stars finally aligned. The moment Joe mentioned wanting to come out here overlapped perfectly with the early off-season break out here—a rare window when the Cove was quiet, the beaches less crowded, and the air filled only with the soft hum of the waves and the occasional call of seagulls. It felt like fate, as if the universe itself had devised a plan to give you this perfect moment to share the place that meant so much to you with the person who meant even more.

You managed to take Joe to all your favorite spots, the first being Landry’s arcade, the place where you set the Cove’s Dance Dance Revolution record at 16 years old, which Joe tried to beat when you took him. But your dance skills were so good for the Quarterback’s precise footwork that you ended up almost breaking your own record. The next place you took him was all of the cute coastal shops along the boardwalk, each one carrying its own story and memory that you told Joe about as you walked hand in hand. He couldn’t stop laughing while you were telling him the story about the cooky old lady that owns the antique shop around the corner and how she busted you and your cousins for trying to sneak onto the pier after it closed. He couldn’t stop laughing, practically doubling over as you told the story. His laughter vibrated through him so hard that he grabbed your arm for support, leaning into you like he might collapse if you told him anything else.

“She came out of nowhere,” you said, gesturing dramatically, your own laughter slipping through your words. “One second, we thought we were in the clear, making a break for the fences, and then BAM! There she was with her flashlight, yelling, ‘I may be old, but I’m not blind, you little hooligans!’”.

Joe practically howled, his head falling against your shoulder as he clung to your arm like a lifeline. “She actually said hooligans? Oh my god, I can’t—did she come with a cane or something too?”.

“She might as well have!” you laughed, shaking your head. “And then she started lecturing us about how the pier was closed for ‘very good reasons’ and how kids like us were going to bring about the downfall of civilization. I tried to apologize, but then James—of course—tripped over a loose board and knocked over a trash can. And she just froze, pointed her flashlight at us, and yelled, ‘THAT’S IT! I’M CALLING THE COPS! in the most grouchy voice ever,’”.

At that point, Joe was laughing so hard he was clutching your waist for balance, practically using you as a crutch while you walked past Sully’s Surf Shop, the place where you got your first and only surfboard when you were 13. “There’s no way in hell that actually happened,” he shook his head.

“I swear!” you said, laughing just as hard now, trying to keep both of you upright. “We ran so fast, we probably looked like Scooby-Doo characters. And now, to this day, every time I walk by her shop, she gives me the dirtiest look,”.

Joe buried his face into your shoulder, still shaking with laughter. “I can’t breathe. I literally can’t. Please tell me she still has the flashlight,” he managed to say, gasping for air.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised if she sleeps with it under her pillow,” you joked, and Joe completely melted, his laughter muffled against you as he clung tighter. Something about this trip was making Joe relax in a way he had never before, he was so loose, free, and almost acting like his younger self again. He even looked the part with his backwards cap, unbuttoned beach shirt showing off his toned body, and adorable palm tree swimshorts that you swore must have been from high school with how faded they were.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said between wheezes, his cheeks flushed and his eyes watering. “But honestly, if you were a hooligan, I’d totally be your accomplice,”.

—

You ended your boardwalk stroll with a meal that could only be described as pure, indulgent bliss. It started with a pile of crispy boardwalk fries—seasoned to perfection with salt and a dash of vinegar and so good that you both couldn’t stop stealing from each other’s pile, even though they were meant to share. Next came a slice of pizza so greasy it basically sparkled in the light, but it was hands-down the tastiest pizza you’d ever had. Every bite was a little piece of heaven, with Joe teasing you for trying to fold your slice like a “real pro”.

To top it all off, you shared a huge cherry slurpee, sipping from the same straw until you both simultaneously winced from a shared brain freeze. Joe groaned dramatically, clutching his forehead, while you couldn’t stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes as the cold pounded through your head. “Why do we do this to ourselves?” he asked, squinting at the slurpee like it had personally backstabbed him.

“Because it’s worth it and we’re a little crazy,” you shot back with a grin, taking another sip despite the risk.

Joe shook his head with a grin, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flip. “A little crazy? Speak for yourself. I think I’m full-on insane for letting you convince me this was a good idea,” he said, leaning closer until your shoulders brushed. “You know I hate brain freezes,”.

“And yet,” you challenged with a smirk, “You’re going back for another sip,”.

He rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the twinkle in them as he leaned in and took another exaggerated slurp, making you giggle all over again.

The two of you sat there on the bench overlooking the water, the sunset painting the waves in shades of gold and pink. The sea breeze brushed against your cheeks as you took turns finishing the slurpee, both of you trading playful nudges and stolen glances. At one point, Joe turned to you, his blue eyes soft and unwavering. “You know,” he murmured, “I’d get a hundred brain freezes if it meant making you laugh like that again,”.

Your heart swelled at his words, and without thinking, you leaned in to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re such a sap,” you whispered against his mouth, smiling at how adorable he was around you.

“Maybe,” he replied, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But only for you,”.

—

The entire week you had already spent here with him made it feel like you were back in high school, going to the same places, eating the same things, and making memories in the same ways as you did with your friends and cousins back when you were just a simple girl running around in your worn out converses. Even Joe felt it—that youthful energy coursing through his veins. But for him, it wasn’t just the beach or the boardwalk or the nostalgia the breeze carried. It was you. It was in the way your eyes lit up every time you showed him a piece of your past, how your laughter was louder than the waves, and how your smile seemed to glow brighter here. Every time he looked at you, he felt it—a rush of unfiltered joy and excitement, like he was living out his own version of those golden summers, all because of you.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring at Joe until he playfully threw a chip at your face, causing you to flinch and snap free from your little re-run of the past few days. “Did I lose you there?” he laughs while leaning against the oven, a smug grin on his face while he eyes you.

You tried to hide your embarrassment, your cheeks burning as you realized he had caught you staring at him like that. Even after all these years, the way he looked at you still had the power to make you feel like a nervous teenager with a schoolgirl crush. You quickly looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your voice a little shaky as you tried to recover. “Yeah,” you said, your smile trembling as you fought to play it cool. “What were you saying? Sorry, I…uh…got distracted,”.

“Oh, I just said we should hit the pier later tonight if we can…without breaking and entering,” he made sure to mention that last bit because of your near run-in with the cops for trying to break in a few years ago. “I remember you saying that you guys loved going down there at night since the rides would be the most fun in the dark,”.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you emphasize, nodding energetically as you start to squirm a little under the intensity of Joe’s gaze. His eyes were locked on you as if he could see straight through you, and it made you feel a little too warm.

“Mhm. Also, quick question…,”.

You glance up, trying to act casual as you take a bite of the chip he just tossed your way. “Shoot,” you reply, trying to sound cool and calm.

“Why were you staring at me like that just now?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Did you need to say something?”.

The chip caught in your throat, and you coughed lightly, your cheeks instantly heating up. Joe hopped off the counter with that same teasing grin plastered on his face, closing the distance between you in a way that made your pulse rush.

He leaned down, resting a hand on either side of you on the kitchen island, trapping you in his gaze. “C’mon, babe,” he said softly, his voice dripping with mischief. “You were looking at me like I was the last slice of pizza on Earth. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”.

You fished for an answer, but the way he was looking at you—so smug, so knowing—had your thoughts scrambling. “Oh, no reason,” you giggled nervously, trying to brush it off, but Joe wasn’t buying it.

“No reason?” he repeated, his grin growing as he leaned in closer. His voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down your spine. “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like my girl’s got something on her mind,”.

You tried to hold your ground, but between his teasing tone and the way his eyes softened just enough to make your heart flutter, you knew you were done for. “It’s nothing important, I swear,” you said, your voice breathy as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a weak attempt to distract him.

“Sureee,” he says, rolling his eyes in the way he always does when he’s onto you.

“It was nothing important, I swear,” you insist, planting a quick kiss on his nose to distract him.

“If you say so,” he replies, his smile softening as he mirrors your action, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You look gorgeous, by the way,”.

Your heart melts a little at his words, the warmth of his arms around you making everything feel a little more right. “You’re just saying that to get me to tell you why I was staring,” you tease, but the butterflies in your stomach give you away.

All you were wearing was a simple pair of jean shorts and a lilac tank top, nothing fancy, but just enough to catch your boyfriend's eye and make his gaze linger a little longer than usual.

“Or…I’m saying it because you’re making me feel a type of way, wearing something that fits you like skin and is a little,” he begins to say, pulling you closer into him mid-sentence and making your breath hitch, “A little…too sexy to wear before your family comes over,” he finishes, eyeing you like a hungry tiger before launching his mouth towards yours and pulling you in for a kiss. His hand slides up your waist and around to your back as he pushes you deeper into him. Your fingers instinctively found their way into his messy golden locks, pulling gently as his lips moved with yours, every touch igniting a fire under your skin.

“Mm, Joe,” you breathed out, trying to pull back, but he wasn’t ready to let you go. His lips chased yours, his hand sliding lower to grip your ass firmly, producing a quiet gasp from you.

You smiled against his lips, knowing exactly where his mind was heading. His kisses turned more urgent, his hands more wild, and before you could think twice, he had you backed against the counter. His hands cupped your ass as he lifted you effortlessly onto the surface, stepping between your legs with a hungry determination.

You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his hands roamed your thighs, thumbs grazing the edge of your shorts. His lips didn’t leave yours for a second, his tongue slipping past your lips in a way that left you dizzy, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip before soothing it with a kiss. One of his hands slid to the button of your shorts, fumbling with it as he pressed his body against yours. “Joe,” you whispered breathlessly, cradling his face in your hands to steady yourself. “They’re going to be here soon,”.

His lips trailed to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving a trail of heat as he hummed against your skin. “We’ll be quick,” he muttered, his voice low and husky as his hand grazed your bare thigh.

You bit your lip, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Quick?” you teased. “The fastest we’ve ever been is thirty minutes, maybe,”.

Joe’s lips curled into a sly grin, his blue eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and challenge as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Then maybe we should break that record,” he murmured, his voice dripping with intent. “I’m pretty good at putting up new stats and breaking records…,”.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he pressed himself firmly against you, his heat burning through the thin fabric of your clothes. The counter beneath you felt cool in contrast, grounding you as he took over every sense you had. “Joe,” you gasped again against his lips, but he silenced you with a teasing nip to your bottom lip. His hands slid under your tank top, his calloused fingers grazing your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“You can’t tease me like that,” he growled softly, his lips trailing down your jawline to your neck, where he nipped and kissed, leaving a path of fire in his wake. “You know I don’t have that kind of patience when it comes to you,”.

You couldn’t help but moan as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his hands sliding further up your body, leaving no inch untouched. “Joey, they’re going to be here any minute,” you managed to whisper.

“Let them wait,” he muttered against your skin, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that made your toes curl. One of his hands slipped back to the waistband of your shorts, unbuttoning them with ease, while his other hand held your hip to keep you steady.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your hands threading through his hair as he tugged your shorts slightly down your thighs, his lips moving to your collarbone.

“I’ll make it fast…we don’t have to go all the way,” he promised, his voice a deep rumble that sent heat pooling low in your belly. His kisses became more desperate, his grip on you firm yet worshipful, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You pulled his face back to yours, catching his lips in another heated kiss, your body already giving in to the magnetic pull he had over you. “We’ll definitely need to continue this later,” you whispered breathlessly against his mouth, your legs tightening around his waist to keep him close.

“You can count on that,” he winked, his voice dripping with promise. His hands slid to your hips, firmly yet tenderly guiding you back against the cool surface of the counter. You leaned back, your heart pounding in anticipation, a grin tugging at your lips as his gaze burned into you, dark and blazing.

A few hours later

A little later, your cousins—Sydney, James, Bella, and Michael—had finally settled into the house, their laughter and chatter filling the air as if no time had passed since your last reunion. The patio was alive with the sound of glasses clinking, plates being passed around, and waves crashing faintly in the background. The warm glow of string lights above created a cozy, magical ambiance, and the smell of saltwater mixed with the aroma of grilled food floating through the air.

Non-stop laughter erupted as stories were exchanged, each one more ridiculous than the last. James was crouched over, wiping tears from his eyes after Bella’s exaggerated retelling of her disastrous first date. You took another sip of your drink, a chilled cocktail that Joe had made just for you exactly to your liking, and as your gaze wandered, it landed on him—your boyfriend.

Joe sat beside you on the loveseat, his presence warm and steady, his hand comfortably entwined with yours as if it had always belonged there. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, grounding you in a way that made your heart swell. He was mid-story—the one he loved to tell over and over, about the first time he saw you—and though you’d heard it a million times, you could barely focus on his words because of how captivating he looked in that moment.

The soft golden strands of his hair, still a little messy from the ocean breeze, seemed to glow under the twinkling patio lights. His smile was so radiant and bright it felt like the world had stopped spinning just to make room for it, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed sent your heart into overdrive. “And I swear, she nearly fell over when I put my arm around her,” Joe said, his deep, rich laugh echoing through the patio. Everyone joined in, and you groaned, your cheeking turning pink in the light as you playfully swatted at his arm.

“You don’t have to tell that part every time,” you said, shaking your head but smiling anyway. The memory flooded back to you like a breath of fresh air, the same fluttery feeling filling your chest as it had that day.

“Oh, come on, it’s the best part,” Joe teased, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your cheek. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing across your knuckles as he grinned down at you, his eyes holding that unmistakable adoration that made you feel like the only person in the world.

Sydney rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I’ve heard this story a dozen times, and it still makes me want to gag. You two are disgustingly cute,” she teased, though the smile on her face betrayed her.

“Disgustingly perfect is more like it,” Bella chimed in, raising her glass with a dramatic touch. “Seriously, you’re what everyone hopes for but never actually gets. It’s not even fair,”.

Joe chuckled, his deep laugh vibrating through you as he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the softest kiss to your knuckles. The simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, and you swore your heart might actually burst into a cloud of pink dust. “Hey, I can’t help it if I got lucky,” he said softly, his eyes locking on yours in a way that made everything else fade into the background.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your smile trembling as your chest swelled with affection. “I think I’m the lucky one,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but Joe caught it. He always caught everything when it came to you.

His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so tender it made your eyes sting with happy tears. “Nah,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “I wake up every day wondering how I ended up with someone like you. I still don’t believe it’s real sometimes,”.

The group collectively groaned, though they were all smiling, even Michael, who shook his head in mock irritation. “You two are killing me. Can you at least tone it down while the rest of us sit here single and bitter?”.

Joe laughed, holding you even tighter to double down on his point. “Sorry, guys,” he said, but he didn’t look sorry at all. He looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and in that moment, with your cousins laughing and the ocean breeze swirling around you, you knew you’d never felt more at home.

“I still can’t believe how we ended up together,” you murmured, letting out a soft sigh as you rested your head on Joe’s shoulder. The warmth of his body wrapped around you like a familiar blanket, and your mind drifted back to the day your life had changed forever. It was a memory so vivid and precious that it felt like a favorite song you never got tired of replaying.

Flashback to LSU

You were buried in the library, surrounded by stacks of books as you frantically worked to finish your research paper on Metaphysics for your Philosophy class. Time had completely slipped away from you, your focus so consumed by the material in front of you that you’d completely forgotten about your promise to help your best friend get ready for her date. The only thing keeping you grounded was the big, warm cup of coffee at your side, your lifeline in the chaos. Your eyes darted to the clock hanging above the nearest bookshelf, and your stomach dropped. 2:30. Panic set in as you realized you were supposed to be at your best friend’s apartment ten minutes ago to help her get ready for her big date. The same best friend who, not too subtly, had begged you not to be late this time.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your anxiety hitting you like a moving truck as you scrambled to shut your laptop. Your hands trembled slightly as you shoved your books into your bag, not caring how poorly they were stacked. With one hand clutching your coffee, you darted toward the stairs, your mind racing with everything you still needed to do plus helping your friend for her date.

But, of course, the universe decided to humble you.

At the worst possible time.

You didn’t see the book cart until your coffee was already mid-air, splattering its contents across a fresh new stack of college textbooks.

“Shit!” you hissed, dropping your bag as you instinctively tried to inspect the damage. Coffee had oozed through the crisp pages, staining them with sticky, brown splashes. Before you could even take another breath, the librarian appeared, her sharp gaze cutting through you like a dagger. “What on earth happened here?” she demanded, the stern look on her face making you want to throw up.

“I…I’m so sorry,” you stuttered, dropping to your knees to salvage the books. But it was no use. The damage was done.

She crossed her arms, her expression hardened with disapproval as her sharp eyes bore into you. “Do you have any idea how expensive these textbooks are?” she snapped, her tone dripping with irritation. “This isn’t some kind of playground. These books aren’t just resources—they’re the foundation of education, invaluable tools for learning. And yet, here they are, drenched in coffee. Do you understand the monetary value of what you’ve just ruined?” Her voice rose slightly with each word, the weight of her frustration pressing down on you like a concrete force.

“I didn’t mean to!” you said quickly, your face heating up and your breaths getting shorter. “I was in a rush! I wasn’t paying attention, and—,”.

“That’s what they all say,” she said while motioning toward the mess, her tone signaling that she didn’t believe you. “Four completely ruined books. That’ll be at least $500. And that’s if you get lucky…some of these were most definitely brand new,”.

Your stomach dropped. “Five Hundred Dollars? I don’t have that kind of money!” you stared, part of you not believing what she just said.

The librarian’s gaze flicked to the No Food Or Drinks Allowed sign hanging nearby, and her lips thinned. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before bringing coffee into the library,” she said while adjusting her overly large-glasses.

You swallowed hard, already dreading the inevitable hit to your bank account. Your paycheck from the school store wouldn’t even hit until next week, and it was barely enough to cover your apartment’s rent, let alone $500 worth of textbooks.

“Come with me, young lady,” the librarian said firmly, turning on her heel. “We’ll settle this at the front desk,”.

You stared after her in disbelief, a wave of frustration and dread washing over you. “Oh my god, is this karma for something? Did I accidentally step on a ladybug? Did I hit a bird with my car?” you thought bitterly, your inner thoughts spiraling as humiliation burned hot in your chest.

Letting out a shaky breath, you surrendered to your fate and bent down to pick up your bag, your hands trembling even more as you struggled to compose yourself. The sharp sting of embarrassment felt overwhelming, and you prayed silently that no one else was watching your disaster unfold.

But just as you straightened up, something unexpected happened.

You felt it before you saw it—a warm, strong, and steady arm sliding around your waist, pulling you close with easy confidence. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath catching in your throat as your heart skipped a beat. Your mind blanked for a moment, your body freezing as a surge of heat spread across your cheeks.

“That won’t be necessary, Ms. Cindy,” a low, silky voice murmured from beside you. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, the kind of voice that could soothe a brewing storm, or command it.

Who’s voice…?

“This is my girlfriend,” the voice continued smoothly, the words sending a shiver down your spine. “She was rushing to meet me for our date at the FroYo place down the street. Punctuality’s not really her thing…lovebug must’ve lost track of time again because she’s just so focused on school and got a little clumsy,” he laughed, that throaty, rich laugh ever so familiar. “Ain’t that right, lovebug?”.

You froze, your brain struggling to catch up with the moment. That strong, steady arm wrapped around your waist. That teasing charm lacing his voice. And then, faintly, the scent hit you—a mix of fresh-cut grass and something deeper, richer, like…Soleil Blanc? Tom Ford?

Your heart thudded wildly in your chest as his arm tightened ever so slightly, grounding you, and against your better judgment, you dared to glance up and one look into those striking blue eyes nearly pushed you down to the ground.

Joe. Freaking. Burrow.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of him. His golden hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just walked off a photo shoot instead of waltzing into your train wreck of a life. His piercing irises sparkled with mischief, framed by those unfairly long lashes that made your knees weak.

And that smirk. Oh god, that smirk. The one you’d seen a hundred times on highlight reels and posters around campus, but never imagined would be this close. It tugged at the corner of his lips, radiating a kind of confidence that somehow managed to be both devastating and endearing.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All you could do was stare, your mind a complete whirlwind of panic, disbelief, and something dangerously close to…attraction.

Your silence stretched thin, hanging in the air like a tight wire about to snap. The librarian’s eyes were locked on you, her disapproval clear, and Joe—still standing beside you—looked equally curious, but much more patient. Yet, you couldn’t focus on either of them.

You were utterly and hopelessly distracted by the way Joe’s sharp baby blues—the eyes every girl on campus couldn’t stop whispering about—were fixed on you, as if you were the only thing in the room worth looking at. The way they crinkled at the edges when he smiled, how they seemed to study you, almost like he was trying to figure you out. It was disarming. Dangerous.

And Joe? He wasn’t immune, either. He couldn’t explain why his gaze refused to leave yours, but something about you had him utterly fascinated. It wasn’t just your beauty—though that was undeniable—but the soft nervousness you bled, the way your lips parted slightly, caught between uncertainty and stubborn determination.

His fingers flexed gently at your hip, grounding you both, coaxing you out of your daze. The warmth of his touch burned through the fabric of your top, sending a jolt down your spine. “R- right,” you stammered, finally breaking the silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe’s lips quirked up in an almost invisible smile at your flustered tone, a quiet triumph in his expression. He was enjoying the hell out of this. The librarian mumbled something that you could barely understand because for some reason, standing here under Joe Burrow’s protective arm, you felt like you wanted to disappear into him completely, to hide from the world and just stay where his gaze was soft and his touch felt steady.

“Oh, I see,” Ms. Cindy said, her tone softening immediately. “So this was your fault?”.

“Pretty much,” Joe said with an easy shrug as he looked back at her, his lips now curving into a smile that could probably charm his way out of anything his golden heart desired. “So if someone needs to pay for the books, that’d be me,”.

Why was he helping you? You barely knew each other…you’ve literally never had a conversation with the man before.

“Oh, Joe, that won’t be necessary,” the librarian smiled, her cold demeanor melting into something much gentler. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” she grinned, her random surge of friendliness catching you off guard and making you confused. What happened to the grouchy old librarian that was about to burn you at the stake for ruining a few textbooks?

Your heart raced as his hand slid up slightly, resting firmly against the small of your back. “Yeah, well, she’s pretty special,” he said, glancing down at you with that smirk that made your knees feel weak. “She’s my most prized possession and my lucky charm…don’t want anyone to jinx her or anything so we’re keeping it lowkey for now,” he nodded, leaning into you even more with that sentence.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to nod. “Yup,” you said, your voice coming out shakier than you intended. “That’s me. The…special, lowkey, lucky ch– charm girlfriend,”.

Joe chuckled softly, the sound was so soft and boyish it made your heart swell, his eyes lingering on yours with a look so determined to figure you out it felt like he could see straight through you. “We’re actually running late for our date,” he said, turning to Ms. Cindy as if the words that left his mouth were the most natural things in the world. His arm around your waist shifted slightly, pulling you closer, and the warmth of his touch sent a tingling sensation up your spine. “So we’ll come back later about the books. Right, babe? I got them for you, don’t worry about it,”.

Your heart stuttered at the affection in his vocie, and for a moment, you swore the whole library was spinning. “Uh…yeah!” you blurted, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you leaned further into the role he’d crafted for you, your voice a little too enthusiastic. “That FroYo is definitely calling my name. Sorry about the books, Ms. Cindy,”.

Ms. Cindy waved you off with a kind smile, seemingly charmed by Joe’s presence. “No worries, dear, you two go ahead and enjoy yourselves. You’re only young and in love once,” she said, her tone softer than it had been just moments before.

“In love? Oh my god, if anyone hear’s about this I’m so fucked,” you thought to yourself, feeling like there was about a million eyes on you right now in that library…but in reality, the only eyes on you were those of a man who felt his heart stop the moment you looked at him.

You barely registered the rest of her parting words. Your entire focus was on Joe—the way his arm remained firmly around your waist, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles against your side in a gesture that almost felt like was to calm your nerves…as if he just knew how you were feeling, and the way his body radiated a constant warmth that made you feel both flustered and oddly safe.

Your thoughts were a chaotic mess. He was too much. Too magnetic, too confident, too…him. The kind of guy you’d want to find in a crowd just so you could hide from him. Because how were you supposed to survive the mere force of his presence without completely melting into a puddle?

—

Joe didn’t let go of you until you were outside, and even then, his hand lingered on your waist, his touch tight and steady. The two of you walked in silence for a moment, your mind racing as you tried to process what had just happened.

Finally, you turned to him, your voice barely above a whisper because you just…didn’t know what to do or say, you were just confused. “Why did you do that?”.

Joe stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you needed a lifeline,” he said simply.

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was to you. “But you don’t even know me,” you said softly.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “But I figured this was a good place to start,”.

Your breath caught as his fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours. “Besides,” he added, his lips curving into that devastatingly charming smile, “I couldn’t just let you drown back there,”.

You blinked up at him, completely at a loss for words. Was this real life?

“Thank you, Joe,” you smiled, a warm, fluttering feeling blossoming in your chest. It felt so... high school, like that excited rush when a cute guy notices you for the first time and you can’t help but feel all giggly and nervous at once. You hadn’t felt like this in forever, like butterflies were swarming in your stomach, making everything feel just a little bit lighter. The way he looked at you, his smile, the way he touched you—it was all so perfect.

It was the kind of innocent excitement you’d only read about in teen romance novels or seen in cheesy rom-coms. And now, here you were, living it, as if you had stepped into your own version of one of those movies. You tried to keep your composure, but you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you met his eyes again. There was something about him—about this—that made you feel like a teenager again, all caught up in the thrill of an unexpected moment.

“Anytime,” he replied easily, slipping his hands into the pockets of his purple LSU football shorts. He tilted his head slightly, a playful glint in his eye. “I didn’t catch your name?”.

“Y/N,” you said softly, watching his reaction.

“Y/N,” he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue with a small smile. “You looked like you needed some saving. And I’m one of Ms. Cindy’s favorites, so I figured I could help,”.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, what was that about? She was ready to charge me $500, and then you waltz in, and she just forgets it all,”.

Joe laughed, the sound becoming something you craved because every time it filled the air, your smile grew just a little wider. And when it ended, all you wanted was to hear it again. “Me and Ms. Cindy go waaay back,” he said. “She really helped me out when I transferred here from Ohio State and had no idea what I was doing on campus. She’s like my campus mom. I’m pretty much her favorite student ever—helped her out around the library, stayed late during finals week when the textbooks were flying off the shelves, and she was completely overwhelmed. She needed a–,”.

“A lifeline?” you interrupted, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself, a blush blossoming on your cheeks as your eyes met his.

Joe paused, his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but nothing came out. He just looked at you, those beautiful blue eyes that were practically glowing in the Lousiana sun locked on yours, his expression caught between surprise and something softer—something that made your heart skip a beat.

“You seem like a helper, Joe,” you said with a soft giggle, trying to fill the sudden silence, your voice carrying a playful edge. “I like it. Your charm is pretty hard to beat,”.

“Thanks,” he replied, his grin widening, that dimple of his making an appearance. He shifted on his feet, and for a split second, you could have sworn he looked…nervous?

You blinked in surprise. “Wait. Was he…nervous?” you thought. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, a habit you recognized as something you did when you were trying to hide your nerves. The thought made your heart flutter.

Before you could respond, Joe reached for your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “Come on,” he said, tugging you gently toward the street. “I owe you a FroYo now. It’s part of the whole fake-boyfriend package,”.

Your stomach fluttered at his words, the hot sensation spreading like wildfire through your body. There was absolutely no way the quarterback of the LSU Tigers, QB1 himself, was asking you to get FroYo with him. You? Some random girl he helped at the library, who he’d literally never seen before? The thought made your head spin in the best way because you couldn’t quite figure him out…but part of you was up for the challenge.

“Oh, um…are you sure?” you stammered, still trying to make sense of the situation. “I mean, you probably have somewhere to be, and–,”.

“Actually, I just got done with film study,” Joe interrupted, pausing to turn and look at you again. “And I know you're free too because you're definitely late to wherever you were rushing off to,”.

His words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with an unexpected warmth you hadn’t felt in ages. Was he…remembering? Did he actually notice how flustered you’d been earlier—how your actions were rushed and chaotic, your face a mixture of determination and panic? He hadn’t just walked in on the aftermath of your coffee-spilling disaster; he’d seen everything leading up to it. He saw how you were scrambling to stuff your books into your bag, how you quickly glanced at the time before attempting to bolt down the stairs, completely oblivious to the book cart.

He saw you typing furiously, pausing here and there to sip your coffee while muttering something under your breath—probably a half-formed argument about metaphysics or a prayer to make the paper magically write itself. You stayed silent for a heartbeat, caught up in the realization. His gaze was still on you, unwavering and intense, studying you with a focus that felt both thrilling and scary. It wasn’t just polite attention—it was as if he were memorizing every detail, like the way your hair framed your face, the flush creeping up your neck, and the way your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your bag.

You felt like the center of his universe in that moment, and it was almost too much to bear. A million thoughts ran through your head, but the loudest one was a quiet plea: Please don’t stop looking at me like that.

Joe added with a soft laugh, “And I would love to know how we got to where we are right now,”.

Your mind raced as you processed his words, your thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity. The part of you that had been skeptical—telling you this was just some fluke moment—was slowly being drowned out by the urge to throw caution to the wind. “Why not?” you asked yourself. “It’s just FroYo. That’s it,”.

You took a deep breath, and after a moment's hesitation, you finally gave in. “Okay, let’s get FroYo, boyfriend,” you said with a smile, the words slipping out more easily than you expected.

Joe’s eyes sparkled, clearly pleased with your answer. “That’s the spirit, lovebug,” he said, his fingers giving yours a gentle squeeze as he started to lead you down the street.

An hour later

“So, you really think aliens are real,” you asked, giggling as you took another bite of your frozen yogurt, a big spoonful of strawberry heading for your mouth.

“1000%,” Joe replied, his eyes lighting up like a kid talking about his favorite superhero. He gestured with his spoon for emphasis, his passion infectious. “There is no way we’re the only intelligent life in the universe. I refuse to believe it. Aliens are just too advanced to accidentally expose themselves. We probably won’t see them for a while, but they’re out there—plotting or chilling or something,”.

You smiled, leaning in as if his theories were some secret you weren’t supposed to overhear. You couldn’t help but drink in every word he said, everything he thought, his voice weaving a web of curiosity that had you completely hooked. His confidence, his animated gestures—it was all intoxicating. You’d been high off his energy all evening, but his jokes, sharp and perfectly timed, left you completely lightheaded.

Every time he made a goofy comment or cracked a grin, it felt like another spark ignited between you two, and you were soaking it up like a sponge. You didn’t even care how ridiculous the alien talk might sound to someone else. For you, it was gold—pure, unfiltered Joe. And honestly, you wanted more of it.

“Fair point,” you said, laughing again at his adorable rambling. That, combined with the way he looked at you—like you were the most interesting person in the world—had you feeling like you were living in a scene straight out of a teenage rom-com. “Maybe you’re an alien,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “I mean, I can’t think of any other guy on campus who would randomly help a stranger in the library like you did,”.

Joe grinned at you, that devastatingly charming smile making your heart skip a beat. “Maybe I am,” he said with a playful shrug. “I guess we’ll never know,”. You laughed again for maybe the 50th time in the past hour, shaking your head at his playful banter with you. Why was he making you so giggly? You had never laughed like this around a guy since high school. “What was all that about anyway?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, as if your answer genuinely mattered to him.

“I was writing an essay about metaphysics,” you explained, twirling your spoon absentmindedly, trying to sound casual despite the buzz of excitement from just sitting across from him. “I got so caught up in it that I completely forgot I was supposed to help my friend get ready for her date with this random guy she met at Fred’s,”.

Joe paused mid-bite, his lips curving into a teasing grin as he raised an eyebrow. “Fred’s? Tigerland Fred’s? The sticky-floor, karaoke-at-2AM Fred’s?”.

“Yup, that one. Where dreams come true—or so she claims,” you said with a laugh, recalling your friend’s drunken rambling about her so-called future boyfriend.

“Dreams or regrets?” Joe shot back, leaning back in his chair with an amused smirk.

“Depends on the night,” you quipped, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “But hey, my friend swears this guy’s the real deal. Apparently, they bonded over an argument about the best Super Bowl halftime show. Beyonce and Katy Perry were the options,”.

Joe’s laugh was as rich as gold, the kind of laugh that made your heart race a little faster. “Classic Fred’s. Nothing says ‘soulmates’ like debating pop queens over a background of spilled beer, drunk as fuck college kids, and bad karaoke,”.

“Right?” you said, giggling. “It’s practically a modern fairytale. Although, personally, I wouldn’t trust any guy from Fred’s unless I saw them leave the bathroom and actually wash their hands,”.

Joe placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be shocked. “Wow, way to lump us all together. Not all Fred’s patrons are degenerates, thank you very much. I always wash my hands. But I’ll admit—Fred’s bathrooms? Definitely a life experience,”.

“Oh, so you’re saying you’re one of the ‘good ones,’ huh?” you teased, tilting your head as you studied him with mock skepticism.

He smirked, leaning forward just slightly, enough to make your pulse quicken. “I’m saying you can trust me,” he replied, his voice dipping into something softer, flirtier. “Fred’s alum and all,”.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Hmm, that’s a big claim, Joe. Trust is earned, not handed out like FroYo spoons,”.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin widening. He leaned back again, that easy confidence of his radiating off him—that same confidence you’d see during football games. “Tell you what: I’ll prove it to you,”.

“Oh, yeah?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”.

He tapped his chin, pretending to think. “Well, for starters, I’ll make sure you get home safe. And I’ll keep your FroYo topped off if you run out. Bonus points if I don’t spill any on myself,”.

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “Bold strategy. But you’re still on thin ice, Quarterback. What else you got?”.

Joe leaned in again, his body language and tone of voice so clearly meant to tease you. He knew exactly what he was doing. “How about this, I won’t just make tonight fun—I’ll make our next date even better,”.

Oh my god.

You felt like screaming—in a good way. He was serious about this being a date. A real date. It was almost impossible to believe, especially given your less-than-stellar luck in the college dating pool. Most guys you met only seemed interested in hooking up or aiming for a casual friends-with-benefits situation. But Joe? He wasn’t giving off those vibes at all, which, frankly, was surprising considering he was a football player. Joe felt different. The way he was treating you, so effortlessly charming yet undeniably genuine, had you feeling giddy, silly, and shy all at once—like you were 16 again, living out a teenage fantasy of dating the star quarterback. But the truth was, Joe being a football player was the least interesting thing about him.

It was the little things—the way his nerdy side blazed through when he got excited about something, his genuine charm that felt so real, and his easy, down-to-earth demeanor. He wasn’t trying to impress you with his status or his accomplishments. He was just Joe, and that set him apart from everyone else. Your cheeks burned from the feeling that was encompassing you, and you couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your face which he noticed. “Next date? You’re already planning ahead, huh? I don’t even remember saying that this,” you said, gesturing to the distance between you two, “This was a date,” you finished.

Joe’s lips curved into a slow, confident smile, and he leaned in slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Oh, come on,” he drawled. “You’re eating FroYo with me, laughing at my terrible jokes, and letting me ramble on about aliens. If this isn’t a date, then I don’t know what is,”.

You bit back a grin, crossing your arms in mock defiance. “Maybe I’m just humoring you,” you said, raising your chin. “Ever think about that, Mr. Quarterback?”.

“Humoring me? Nah,” he said confidently. “You’re way too into this for it to be just that. Admit it, you’re having fun, lovebug,”.

You rolled your eyes, but the blush creeping up your cheeks because of that damn nickname probably betrayed you. “Okay, maybe I’m having a little fun,” you conceded, holding your fingers an inch apart for emphasis.

“See? I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “And for the record, I’ve already decided. This is definitely a date. A pretty damn good one, if I say so myself,”.

“Oh, you’ve decided, huh?” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he leaned forward again, his gaze locking with yours. “But if you need a little more convincing, how about we go ahead and plan that next date? Something tells me you won’t be able to resist saying yes,”.

“Your confidence never wavers, does it?”.

“Duh,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling as they locked onto yours. “I don’t play for just one quarter, Y/N. I’m in it for the full game,”.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing at a mile a second. “Alright, Mr. Quarterback. Let’s see if you can back all this talk up,”.

“Oh, I will,” he said with a wink, his confidence so intoxicating it made you feel like you were just like one of those drunk as fuck college kids at Fred’s. “You just keep eating your FroYo and let me handle the rest,”.

“Deal,” you replied, keeping your tone casual even as your stomach flipped like it was auditioning for the Olympics. Your mind was racing, spiraling over every glance, every word exchanged. You were hyper-aware of the way Joe had been looking at you, his gaze steady and warm, as though he was studying every detail of your face during this not-a-date-but-definitely-a-date FroYo outing.

Meanwhile, Joe was quietly letting out a breath of relief, grateful that you seemed just as interested as he was. He had been silently praying you’d be open to more of this—more of him. He knew it was early, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something special about you. From the moment he’d seen you in the library, flustered but determined, he was drawn in. “You’re interested,” he thought to himself, letting the reassurance wash over him. And why wouldn’t he be hoping? You weren’t like anyone else he’d met.

To Joe, this date—or whatever it was—was unlike any he’d ever been on. It wasn’t forced, and it didn’t feel like a chore to impress you. You were genuine, effortlessly funny, and you weren’t trying to win the title of ‘QB1’s girlfriend’. He’d been on plenty of dates with girls who only cared about the status, who weren’t interested in him beyond the jersey. But with you, it felt different. You made him feel like just Joe, the guy who geeked out about aliens and enjoyed frozen yogurt dates.

And that was all he wanted—a connection that felt real.

So, when you smiled softly at him after your ‘deal’ and took another bite of your FroYo, he couldn’t help but grin to himself. This was already more than he had hoped for, and he couldn’t wait to see what came next.

“Anyways, back to my friend…she was totally fine,” you said with a shrug, the memory making you smirk. “I told her why I was skipping out on helping her, and let’s just say she was more than happy to get ready on her own, considering the reason I bailed,”.

“Glad I wasn’t a point of conflict in her love story,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, no. She’s on team Joe already,” you teased, taking a deliberate bite of your FroYo as you watched him with a smirk.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said with a half-laugh, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of his cup. Then, with a curious tilt of his head, he asked, “So, your essay…Metaphysics, right? That’s…?”.

“Aristotle,” you answered smoothly, catching the flicker of recognition on his face.

“Right,” he said, nodding like a student trying to piece together notes from a lecture he half-remembered. “Philosophy class,”.

“Mhm. I’m a sucker for anything psychology, sociology, or philosophy related,” you admitted, your tone light but laced with genuine enthusiasm.

“Nerdy...Good to know,” he teased, a playful smirk lighting up his gorgeous face. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your lips. “Says the guy who’s spent half this date convincing me aliens are real,”.

“...Touché,” Joe replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But nerdy or not, I think our second date should be at the art and science museum. They’ve got a pretty sick space exhibit right now—and I hear their psychology section is impressive, too. I’m sure you’d love it,”.

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at the thought of spending more time with Joe. The idea of a second date felt…so right, in fact, that you couldn't help but blurt out, “Okay, how about Saturday night?”.

Joe leaned back in his seat, his hands resting casually on the table as his eyes flickered with a playful challenge. “Saturday, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad?”.

“Woah, play it cool, Y/N. This is still Joe Burrow—Joe freaking Burrow. The star quarterback, the guy every girl on campus talks about with that smirk and look in their eyes. Don’t get your hopes up; just be normal,” you told yourself, trying to rein in the butterflies taking flight in your chest. “This might not even go anywhere,” you realized, forcing your overexcited heart to settle. Your mind scrambled for a response, desperate to dilute the intensity of your emotions before they spilled over. You then shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep your cool even though your stomach was dancing with overexcitement. “Well, you did say you wanted to do this again,” you replied, “I thought I’d get the ball rolling,”.

“I did, didn’t I?” his eyes held yours for a beat longer than usual, and you could feel the shift, the chemistry swirling between the two of you like electricity in the air.

Then, with a sigh, Joe ran a hand through his hair, clearly thinking it through. “Saturday’s not gonna work for me, though,” he said, a slight frown appearing on his face. “Quarterback duties and all—big game that night.” He paused, his eyes searching yours, before adding, “But hey, I’ve got a plan,”.

Your brow furrowed with a hint of disappointment, but you didn’t show it. You waited for him to continue, your curiosity piqued. He looked at you, that signature smirk returning, “You could come to the game. I can snag you a ticket and I’ll get one for your friend too if you guys wanna sit front row on our side of the stands?”.

You were speechless for a moment, your heart pounding so loudly you swore he could hear it. He was serious. Joe Burrow, the quarterback of the LSU Tigers, wanted you to come to his game—wanted you to be there, front and center, watching him in action. It was something straight out of a fantasy, the kind of moment you’d only ever seen in movies or read about in romance novels.

Your mind raced as you processed it. He’s inviting me to his game. Me. Not one of the picture-perfect girls you thought flocked to him at parties or tried to cozy up for clout, but you. And Joe wasn’t just the quarterback—he was the quarterback. Hot and sexy in a way that almost felt unfair, with that chiseled jawline, broad shoulders, and that effortlessly tousled dirty blonde hair. And yet, he was so much more than just his looks. He was kind, attentive, and so…Joe.

Despite his talent and fame, he didn’t carry himself with the vanity you’d seen in so many other athletes. He was normal, in the most unique way—someone who could make you laugh over FroYo one second and leave you breathless with a smirk the next. You’d never thought a guy like Joe could exist outside of daydreams, let alone show interest in you.

You could feel your cheeks blush as your gaze shifted back to him. The thought of sitting in Tiger Stadium, watching him play, hearing the crowd roar as he led his team to victory—it suddenly meant so much more. You weren’t going to the game for LSU or the love of football. You were going for Joe, and that realization sent a thrill down your spine.

A tiny, excited laugh escaped you before you could stop it. He was making everything feel so airy, so surreal that it was like you were in a daze. Your pulse quickened, but you kept your voice steady, trying to sound casual as your mind wandered to the game.

You weren’t someone who went to football games often. Sure, you’d catch a game here or there on TV, mostly for the atmosphere and social chatter, but actually going to Tiger Stadium, sitting in the crowd, surrounded by thousands of roaring fans? That wasn’t really your scene. It always felt overwhelming, like you were just a small piece in a sea of chaos. But for Joe? For Joe, it didn’t feel chaotic—it felt meaningful.

You’d heard the stories about him—how good he was, how he was the star of the team, how he carried the entire state of Louisiana on his shoulders game after game. Even if you weren’t a die-hard fan, you couldn’t help but admire someone so dedicated, so talented. Seeing him on the field, doing what he was so clearly meant to do, was starting to feel like an opportunity you didn’t want to miss.

But what really struck you was that this wasn’t just about football for him. He wanted you there. Not as just another face in the crowd, but as someone he…cared about. And that meant everything. The idea of sitting in the stands, knowing he’d glance over and see you cheering for him, made your chest tighten with a strange mix of nerves and excitement.

“I’ve never really gone to the games in person,” you admitted, your voice softer now, a little more vulnerable. “But I think for you, I could make an exception,”.

Joe’s grin widened, and you saw the flicker of relief in his eyes, like he’d been holding his breath waiting for your answer. “Good,” he said, the warmth in his voice showing his sincerity. “Because I want you there,”.

He wanted you there. Not just for the game, but for him. And as much as the idea of sitting in a packed stadium might have made you hesitant before, now it felt different. “Sounds perfect. I would love to see you in action up close, Mr. Quarterback. Gotta really make sure you know how to ball and that it’s not all talk,” you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

His grin widened and those adorable crinkles returned around his eyes, “Oh, it’s definitely not just talk,” he shot back with a wink. “But yeah, we’ll do the museum on Sunday. We’ll make it a weekend full of firsts. Your first time watching me play up close, and then our first visit together to the museum,”.

“Can’t wait,” you said softly, a genuine smile tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. His baby blues seemed to hold a profundity you hadn’t expected, a softness that made your heart skip a beat. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you—something equal parts thrilling and comforting, and you wanted to know what it was so bad.

This was real, he was real, and this—whatever it was—felt like it was going somewhere exciting. You didn’t know where it would lead, but you were more than ready to find out.

Saturday Night – Tiger Stadium

“Holy shit, that was a dime!” you screamed, jumping up and down as adrenaline surged through your body. Your voice was barely audible over the deafening roar of Tiger Stadium, but you didn’t care. You grabbed your friend Kyra by the arm, pulling her into your whirlwind of excitement as Joe threw his third touchdown pass of the game, the ball landing perfectly in the receiver's hands like it had been placed there by magic.

“He’s too damn good,” Kyra laughed, her eyes wide with disbelief as she watched Joe and his offense celebrate in the end zone. The energy in the stadium was electric, every cheer and chant echoing through your chest as the clock winded down to zero. Nothing could ever match the energy and electricity in Death Valley whenever Joe Burrow stepped on the field, and you were finally getting a taste of what that actually felt like.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Joe. He moved across the field with such confidence, his composure unbreakable even in the chaos. Every play was deliberate, every throw accurate, and every moment he spent commanding the field had you mesmerized.

For you, the moment felt like it belonged to Joe—and, in some inexplicable way, to you, too. Watching him tear it up on the field with such precision and swagger was intoxicating. You’d been screaming and cheering so much that your voice was already scratchy, but you didn’t care. This moment wasn’t about you; it was about him.

“I mean, is he even human?” Kyra teased, nudging you as she caught you staring.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing from the dopamine boost you were getting. “What can I say? The man knows how to put on a show,” you replied, but inside you were giddy, completely smitten by the way he carried himself. It wasn’t just his talent or his looks, though, let’s face it, those weren’t exactly drawbacks. It was the way he made this larger-than-life moment feel personal, like you were watching him play just for you.

A personal show. Just for you.

After dapping up Justin, Joe glanced toward the stands, and for a brief moment, you swore his eyes landed on you…which was his goal. He was looking for you. Looking for the one girl he was trying to impress amongst the thousand that were screaming his name.

Your breath hitched, the connection between you so brief yet so undeniable that it left you feeling lightheaded. Kyra smirked, clearly noticing. “I seriously can’t believe you’re dating Joe freaking Burrow,” she said, poking you with her elbow.

“Woah, slow down. We’ve been on one date, and we’re not even official,” you replied, though the blush creeping up your cheeks betrayed you.

“Mhm, sure. So, have you picked a wedding date yet? You know, I’d like to save the date early,” she teased with a sly grin.

You groaned, swatting at her arm. “Shut up, Kyra,” you said, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at the thought of being married to a man like him—someone so…perfect and dreamy.

“Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve got a front-row seat to the hottest quarterback in college football, and I’d like to thank you for dragging me along to this magical little love story,” she joked with a dramatic wave of her hand. “You two already talk baby names, yet? Seriously, you’d make the cutest kids…just saying,” she wiggled her eyebrows dramatically as she continued with the silly teases that she knew were making you giggly inside.

You tried to hide your smile, shaking your head at her irritating yet slightly amusing antics, but your laughter caught in your throat when she suddenly froze. “Uhh, he’s walking over here,” she whispered, eyes wide as she looked back and forth.

“What?” you spun around so fast your head nearly whipped off. There he was—Joe, helmet in hand, his grin so wide it could light up the entire stadium. He jogged toward the barricade, his golden brown hair a little messy from the game, and his eyes locked on yours like nothing else in the world mattered.

“Oh my god, he’s coming to you,” Kyra whispered, squeezing your arm before quickly excusing herself. “I’ll, uh, go to the bathroom…Mrs. Quarterback,” she added with a wink before darting away.

Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest as Joe came to a stop right in front of you, his helmet tucked under one arm, his other hand running through his slightly damp hair. His cheeks were flushed, a faint pink that shimmered under the twinkling stadium lights, and his boyish grin made your knees feel like jelly. You couldn’t believe how effortlessly handsome he looked, even after four quarters of football. “Did you have fun?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“Are you kidding me?” you said, leaning forward over the barricade, your excitement spilling out before you could stop it. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had at a game. You were…incredible, Joe. I mean, you killed it out there,”. The words rushed out, your voice still buzzing with adrenaline, and your cheeks burned when you realized how starry-eyed you probably sounded.

His grin grew wider, his crinkling eyes softening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Thank you,” he said, his tone gentler now, almost intimate, as his gaze swept over you. “And by the way…you look really pretty tonight. That LSU purple and that ‘9’ look amazing on you, lovebug,”.

Your breath hitched for a second, and you felt a shy warmth creep up your neck as his words sank in. Lovebug. That damn nickname sounded so sweet and natural coming from him, like it belonged to you all along. You looked down at the jersey you’d worn just for him, suddenly hyper-aware of how much effort you’d put into looking good tonight. “I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, biting your lip as you met his gaze again. “I think I could get used to this…purple might just be my new favorite color,” you teased, giving him a flirty smile.

“Well, you should wear it more often,” he said, leaning just a little closer over the railing. “You look absolutely gorgeous in purple, so I’m definitely not complaining,”.

Your heart was doing somersaults. Literal Olympic gold medal-winning somersaults because of the way he was looking at you…talking to you. Oh, you were so down bad already. “Thanks, Joey,” you said softly, trying to calm yourself by pulling your eyes from his.

He noticed your eyes drifting away from him for just a moment, and he wasn’t having it. His hand, warm and calloused from the game, moved up from his hip with purpose. Before you could process what was happening, he cupped your cheek gently but firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Hey,” he murmured. He tilted your face back toward his, his eyes locking with yours, baby blue and burning under the glow of the stadium lights. “Keep looking at me,”.

The way he said it—steady, certain, yet laced with something vulnerable—made your breath hitch. You nodded slightly, completely under his spell as your eyes met his again. There was something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in this electrifying moment. It was all about him, they were all chanting his name, but here he was with you. You couldn’t help but think how surreal this all felt, like you’d been transported back to high school, standing by the bleachers with your dreamy crush. He made you feel bittersweet 16 all over again, that lovely mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest.

“I like seeing your eyes on me,” he admitted, his thumb brushing just under your cheekbone now, his touch so tender. “It’s distracting, sure, but in the best way. Makes me feel like I did something right tonight,”.

“Joe,” you whispered, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. “You just threw for three touchdowns. Pretty sure you did everything right tonight,”.

He playfully rolled his eyes as his hand didn’t move from your face. “Yeah, but those touchdowns were for everyone else,” he said, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “This right here? This is just for me,”.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against the wrist of the hand that held your face, grounding yourself in him. “You’re making it really hard to think straight,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You didn’t know why you were saying that, but for some reason it felt so right.

His grin widened, playful and smug, but his eyes stayed soft, still scanning your face like he couldn’t get enough. “Good,” he said simply. “Because you’re all I’ve been thinking about since the moment I saw you,”.

You opened your lips to say something back, not sure exactly what you would say to that, but before you could he pulled his hand away from your cheek and spoke up again. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So,” he said, “I’ll be wrapped up here in about 30 minutes. If you’re free…maybe we could grab something to eat after?”.

The way he asked—so casually and confidently—made your heart melt. He wasn’t just the star quarterback right now; he was just a guy, standing in front of a girl…his girl, hoping she’d say yes.

“I’d love to,” you replied without hesitation, not a hint of uncertainty in your voice. You leaned down impulsively, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and when you pulled back, his eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks blushing even deeper under the lights.

“...You’re making it really hard to focus on football right now, lovebug,” he murmured, his voice teasing you on purpose, but his smile showed how smitten he was.

You laughed, your own cheeks blushing as you playfully brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you better focus because I’m holding you to that dinner,” you shot back, trying to match his playful tone but failing miserably as your voice came out all breathy and soft.

Joe’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer like he physically did not want to look away from, you, and his smile turned into something more tender. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll be there. Just don’t disappear on me, okay?”.

As he jogged back to his team, his steps confident yet light, you couldn’t stop watching him. Every muscle moved with a grace that was almost unfair, and your heart swelled knowing that all of this—the smiles, the teasing, the kiss—was just for you. Tonight wasn’t just a game. Tonight, it felt like a dream. And the best part? Joe Burrow, the star quarterback, wasn’t just part of that dream—he was the dream.

—

Half an hour later, you met Joe outside the stadium. The night air was cool, the buzz of the game still lingering in the distance as fans trickled out from the staidum. Joe stood beside a sleek black car, his bag tucked under one arm and that same lovesick smile lighting up his face. He moved toward you with purpose, opening the car door before you could even reach for it.

“Getting my car door? Isn’t that sweet?” you thought to yourself, feeling a twinge of surprise at how much the small gesture made your heart flutter.

“Your chariot awaits,” he teased softly, his free hand brushing lightly against the small of your back as he guided you in.

“Thank you,” you said, glancing up at him with a shy smile as you slid into the leather seat.

Joe climbed in beside you, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He quickly reached forward and pressed a button, and you watched as a tinted partition slowly rose, cutting the two of you off from the driver. You raised an eyebrow, about to ask why, but the words disappeared when he turned toward you.

His arm was around your waist in an instant, his touch carrying something that you hadn’t felt in a very long time, as he pulled you closer. Your knees bumped against his, and his other hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin so softly it sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. Soft but so deliberate, the kiss was everything at once—sweet, needy, electrifying. You felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs, your pulse pounding so hard you thought he might feel it through your skin.

“No one’s ever had me like this,” you thought as you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. You’d only known him for a few short days, but something about him made you want to forget about everything, forget that this was still new, to let your hair free in the wind and go with your heart and not your mind.

But then you relaxed, leaning into him as his hand slid up your back, pulling you even closer. Your own hand found its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his slightly damp hair as you kissed him back.

His lips moved with a confidence that made your stomach flip, his tongue brushing against yours, igniting sparks that coursed through your entire body. You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline leftover from the game or just the way he made you feel, but you were dizzy with it.

When his lips left yours and trailed down your neck, you couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped you. His name slipped from your lips like a whispered prayer, “Joe…,”.

His breath was uneven as he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. His swollen lips now coated with some of your cherry red lipgloss as you couldn’t help but stare at him, enchanted by the boyish charm that seemed to be the complete opposite of the intensity he carried.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he huffed, like he was still catching his breath. Like you took his breath away.

Your fingers stayed in his hair, your other hand resting lightly against his chest where you could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat. “Well, I’m glad you finally did,” you whispered as your heart swelled.

His lips curved into a smile that made your knees weak all over again, the kind of smile that sent a thrill straight down your spine. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, barely above a whisper, leaning in again as if you were drawn by some magnetic force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. This kiss wasn’t soft anymore, not that it ever was. It started slow, like a fuse being lit, but it didn’t take long for the fire to burn hotter, fiercer. His hand found your waist again, pulling you against him, and you couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through you as his lips claimed yours with a confidence that made your head spin. “You taste so damn good, you know that?” he mumbled in between the kiss.

“Good enough to come back for seconds?” you questioned as you pulled away from him, your doe eyes making his knees weak.

He tightened his grip on your waist and brought his lips back to yours. “Oh, I’m not stopping at seconds, lovebug,”. His kisses trailed from your mouth to your jaw, and then to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips and tongue leaving a heated path of want. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as his teeth grazed your skin, his chuckle vibrating against your neck.

“Joe,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, laced with need.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice rough as he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a moment, like he was trying to ground himself. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were darker, his gaze flickering over your pretty face and pinker than ever cheeks. The car hit a soft bump, and it snapped you back to reality for a moment. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your hand brushing his jaw as your eyes fell back to his lips. “This car ride’s about to feel a whole lot longer,”.

Joe smirked, his lips brushing against yours once more, teasing you but not committing to another kiss just yet. “Patience, lovebug. We’ve got all night,”.

And as the car continued its journey, you couldn’t help but think again, “Getting my car door? Then pulling me to the backseat so easily? And kissing me in a way that’s definitely going to screw me up forever? Oh, what did I get myself into,”.

This was either the worst thing you could’ve ever done…or the best. It was brand new, but you were going full throttle. And for some reason, even though there were so many unanswered questions and untouched feelings…it felt so right to be here…like this.

With him.

Joe Burrow wasn’t just good at football—he was good at absolutely everything, especially at making you feel like the most desired, cherished, and irresistible girl in the world despite knowing him for such a short amount of time.

No one’s ever had you, not like him.

There was something special about Joe.

End of flashback

“Oh my god, that was the most embarrassing moment of my life,” you laughed along with your cousins, your cheeks burning from both the memory and the silliness of retelling it.

Joe chuckled softly beside you, “Embarrassing? Maybe. But it was also the best. Without that moment in the library and that night at the game, we wouldn’t be here,” he said, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips again for another soft kiss.

You smiled at the tenderness in his gesture, but couldn’t resist teasing him. “Who would’ve thought, huh? I seriously thought you’d forget all about me once you got drafted to the Bengals,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him, but there was a hint of genuine vulnerability in your tone.

Joe looked at you, his expression softening as if he could read every hidden fear you ever had. “Forget you?” he repeated, shaking his head slightly before his hand slid over to your thigh, giving it a firm yet reassuring squeeze. “Ditch you for what? I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted—and everything I’ll ever need—right here,”.

Flashback to Draft Night - Athens, Ohio

The air was thick with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. It was Draft Night—the night that would change Joe's life, and yours, forever. The tension in the room was electric, but in Joe's eyes, there was a calm certainty. He already knew. He knew he was going to be the first overall pick, and he knew, without a doubt, that Cincinnati was in his future. Earlier that year, before graduation, Joe had turned to you with a rare, serious glint in his eye. He'd told you, with all the confidence in the world, that wherever he ended up, he wanted you there beside him. At the time, you thought he was just joking—playing around with a future you hadn’t fully imagined yet. But now, watching him on the verge of living out his dream, you realized just how serious he'd been.

The realization hit you harder than you expected. This wasn’t some playful promise—it was a commitment. And here, on the edge of this life-changing moment, you felt it for real.

Flashback to Graduation – LSU

After the ceremony ended, the world seemed to slow down for you and Joe. You had just walked across the stage, caps thrown in the air, hands shaking from the excitement and adrenaline. The weight of the future was looming, but there was something undeniably exciting about the unknown ahead. Joe decided to take you back to the FroYo place, the spot where everything had started between the two of you. It felt fitting, like it was full circle. This was where you had your first “unofficial official” date, and now, it seemed, everything was about to change in the blink of a crinkling eye.

As you both sat down at the same table you had sat at countless times before, the hum of the FroYo machines and the buzz of conversations around you seemed so distant. You were already digging into your frozen treat, trying to make light of the moment. But you could tell, something was on Joe’s mind. His usual confident demeanor had slipped into something more uncertain, more vulnerable.

He took a deep breath, setting his cup down beside him. His fingers twitched on the edge of his own spoon before he finally spoke, his voice quiet but shaky. “I want to talk to you about something,”.

Immediately, you stopped eating, sensing the shift in his energy. You put your cup down and reached across the table, taking his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his skin as a silent reassurance. “What’s up?” you asked softly.

Joe looked at you, his eyes filled with more emotion than you had ever seen. “We just graduated,”.

“That we did,” you chuckled, trying to keep things light, but there was a heaviness in your chest that you couldn’t ignore.

“And I declared for the draft,” he added, his words almost shaky. The weight of that statement hung in the air, and you felt your smile falter. “That you did,” you replied, voice a little quieter now, the realization settling in.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, clearly struggling to find the right words. He was never one to shy away from a challenge, but this was different. This was his future—and, as you could sense, he wanted it to include you. Without another moment of hesitation, he squeezed your hand. “Come with me.”

“Come with you where?” you giggled nervously, unsure of where this was heading.

“Wherever I end up,” Joe said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. “Whichever team drafts me. Come with me. Be with me,”.

Your stomach twisted in knots, and your breath caught in your throat. Was he really asking you this? The future, before so uncertain, suddenly felt incredibly clear—and scary. You had known this day would come—the moment when he would have to leave Louisiana, leave everything behind—but you never really thought about what it would mean for you two. The thought of a breakup, the thought of being left behind, had loomed over you in the back of your mind like a shadow, but now, hearing him speak, you realize that wasn’t his plan at all. He wanted you.

You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Really?”.

“Really. It’s true, I swear. Scout’s honor,” Joe said with fierce sincerity, squeezing your hand tighter. “I need you with me. I love you so much, and the thought of us being apart is…bullshit. I can’t do this without you, Y/N. I won’t,”

You sat there in stunned silence for a few seconds, trying to process everything. It was so much to take in; the gravity of the situation, the promise in his words. You had been dreaming of a future with him, but this...this was more than just a dream. This was real. You’d be moving with him, wherever he went. You’d be starting this new chapter, side by side, facing everything together. It wasn’t just about football or school anymore. It was about life—your life, together.

You thought about everything—finding a job in whatever city you’d end up in, living together, moving at a new pace, navigating the unknowns that lay ahead. And for the first time, it didn’t seem so scary. It didn’t seem scary because even in the whirlwind of it all, one thing stuck out.

You’d be with him.

You shifted your gaze to meet his again, locking eyes with the man who, in that moment, had just offered you everything you’d ever dreamed of, everything you never thought possible. His eyes were filled with such intensity, so much hope, and so much love that it made your heart race, each beat echoing in your chest like a drum. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft, tender expression that was just for him. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice full of warmth and certainty. “I’ll go with you,”.

His breath caught in his throat, a moment of disbelief flashing across his face. “Seriously?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really saying it.

You nodded, feeling your heart swell with an overwhelming affection that seemed to fill every inch of your being after saying it out loud. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” you replied. Each word carried the weight of everything you felt for him and the future you were about to step into together.

As he stared back at you with those ocean blue eyes, filled with promise and a love so deep it seemed to consume you both, you knew that this was just the beginning.

Flashforward back to Draft Night

“Are you excited?” you ask as you sit next to Joe on the couch. The draft night had taken on a different feel this year, virtual for the most part because of COVID-19, but the electricity between you both was undeniable. It didn’t matter that you weren’t at the event in person. What mattered was that you were together, and the future ahead of you both felt like an open road waiting to be explored.

“Excited, nervous, and a bit scared,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the screen as the pre-program was starting up. You can see the nervous energy in him, that usual cool demeanor slightly cracked, but the way he leans into you and makes sure your legs are touching shows he’s not as worried as he’s letting on.

Joe leans back, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm as he speaks again, his voice quieter now, more contemplative. “You know, it’s hard to put into words how much this means. Getting drafted into the NFL...it’s surreal. But it feels like I’m coming home,”. His eyes meet yours, and there’s a weight to his words, something deeper than just football.

“Home?” you ask, your brow furrowing slightly, even though you know exactly what he means.

“Yeah,” he nods, leaning in just a little closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Cincinnati...Ohio…it’s my home state. There’s also this unfinished business from Ohio State you know, I didn’t get to finish what I started there, but now? Now it feels like I have the chance to go back, make it right,”.

You smile softly, understanding the quiet fire and drive behind his words. You knew how much he’d poured into every moment of his career so far, how his passion for the game ran deeper than anything else. “You’re going to crush it, Joe. This is your chance to rewrite everything. It's not just a new chapter, it's a whole new book,”.

He grins, pulling you closer again, his hands resting on your waist. “It doesn’t feel like just a career move. It feels like a homecoming. A chance to really show people what I’m capable of—what I can do when I’m finally in the right place. And the fact that you're coming with me, that I get to do this with you by my side, makes it feel even more right,”.

The way he looks at you, full of determination and love, makes your heart swell. You knew he was destined for greatness, but hearing it from him, feeling the importance of his hopes and dreams in his words, makes everything feel so real. “We’re in this together,” you remind him, your voice full of certainty. “And you’re going to make them all see exactly why you belong there. Why you’ve always belonged there,”.

He chuckles, pulling you close for a quick kiss, "Thanks for believing in me, lovebug. I think I finally feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. And that means everything,".

“Sounds about right, Superstar. Your life’s about to change,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you settle back in next to him.

“Our life,” he corrects, his voice a little more serious now, a touch of possessiveness in it that makes your heart flutter.

Butterflies start to flutter in your belly. “Right, our life,” you repeat, smiling up at him. It wasn’t just about the draft, it was never just about the draft. It was about everything that came after. The life you’d be building, side by side.

“Did you hear back from the job you applied to in Cincy?” he asks, his gaze now fixed solely on you. “Not yet. Should be hearing back tomorrow. Buttt, I talked to one of my connections there, and they said to be expecting a positive answer,” you beam, your excitement unmistakable. There was a certain joy you couldn’t contain knowing you were taking this leap with him—both of you starting a new journey in your careers.

“That’s amazing, Y/N. I’m so proud of you,” he says, pulling you close, his arms tightening around you. His hug feels safe and warm, like everything in the world is aligned and you are right where you need to be.

You laugh softly as his arms envelop you, “I can’t wait for this, Joe,” you murmur into his chest, your voice full of that sweet anticipation that both of you are holding onto right now.

“Me either. It’s starting to feel real. Like real real,” he admits, his tone laced with childish wonder, as if it’s finally sinking in that your lives are about to change—together.

“Oh, it’ll feel even realer when we go house hunting in Cincy on Sunday,” you tease, your lips curling into a playful smile as you pull away from his embrace slightly. You can’t help but feel giddy about it all.

Joe rolls his eyes dramatically but then smiles. “Mm, I can’t wait for that fun experience,” he mutters, giving you a mischievous look as if he knows what’s coming. “You better not pick the ugliest place out there,”.

“Oh, you know I have impeccable taste, Joey,” you reply, raising an eyebrow, a flirtatious challenge in your tone. “I’m thinking something with space for a huge bed. You know, somewhere with plenty of room for...you know, us,”.

His eyes flicker with something deeper now, a kind of heat that makes you both pause, the air between you thickening. “A big bed, huh?” he says, the suggestiveness in his voice making your skin burn. “I can’t wait to keep you in bed all day, every day. You think I’ll be able to get any work done? Or are you going to have me distracted in other ways?”

You laugh softly, your cheeks flushing at the thought of having all the time, privacy, and space to do whatever the hell you wanted with each other. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, biting your lip as you look into his eyes, both of you sharing a knowing look.

Joe’s smirk deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your ear with a teasing whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. “Seriously, though,” he murmurs, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself in our place. We’ll make it ours... every single inch. And I’ll keep you in bed all day, every day, if that’s what you want. No interruptions, just us,”.

A rush of heat floods through you, the playful banter turning into something much more intense so quickly. Your pulse quickens, and you meet his eyes, feeling the weight of his words as they settle into your chest. “I think I could definitely get used to that,” you reply, your voice teasing, yet laced with a quiet promise of your own that you’d follow him wherever he wanted the both of you to go.

Joe’s fingers trail down your side, his touch light but calculated because he knows exactly how to set you off, and he leans in, his lips grazing yours with just enough pressure to make your heart skip a beat. “Oh, you will,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy. “You’ll be begging for it by the time I’m done with you, I can’t wait”.

His words, so confident, so sure of what’s to come, send a thrilling shiver through your entire body. You pull him closer, unable to resist the pull between you, and his lips meet yours again, but this time, there’s an undeniable hunger to the kiss. It’s deep, passionate, and promises so much more than just a kiss—it promises everything.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed, the reality of what’s coming settles over you both. The house, your new life, the future you’ll share together. It’s all so vivid now, so real, and you can’t help but grin as you gaze up at him. "I can't wait for any of it either," you whisper, your voice thick with anticipation, knowing that what you two shared was about to get a whole lot more intense, and you were more than ready for it.

End of flashback

“Aww, you guys are so cute,” Sydney coos, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches the way you and Joe interact with each other. “You guys just exude young and hopelessly in love energy and I’m so obsessed with it,” she smiles, raising her drink glass in the air as if she’s toasting to it.

“Agreed,” James adds with a grin, leaning back in his chair as he takes a sip of his drink. “I’ve never seen Y/N happier and freer like she is with you, Joe. You really just…get her,”.

Joe looks over at you, his smile lighting up his whole face. “Well, I’m lucky to have her,” he says, his voice filled with so much love and endearment for you that it makes you shy, prompting you to stuff your face in the crook of his neck.

You can’t help but grin, though; your heart swelling with so much love that it’s almost overwhelming. Being surrounded by your favorite family members, in the arms of the love of your life…it couldn’t get better than this for you. You meet his gaze, the kind of look that’s full of so much comfort, trust, and everything you’ve ever needed. No one has truly ever had you, not like Joe has. He brings out the best in you; you’ve felt it since day one. You can see it reflected in the way everyone else looks at the two of you—everyone can see how much he completes you, how much you’ve blossomed with him by your side.

—

Later, everyone heads back inside, naturally breaking off into their own little groups for some well-deserved downtime. The guys sprawl across the couch, eagerly setting up for a nostalgic session of Grand Theft Auto, while you, Sydney, and Bella gravitate to the kitchen island. With glasses of wine in hand, the three of you settle into the comforting flow of girl talk, sharing laughs and stories.

From where you're sitting, you catch a glimpse of Joe on the couch, his eyes bright and glued to the TV screen as he fumbles with the controller. His excitement is palpable, his boyish grin stretching wide as he banters with the guys. It’s so unguarded and carefree that it makes your chest warm. You stifle a giggle, watching him bounce slightly in his seat like a kid on Christmas morning. “God, he’s so cute when he’s like this,” you mutter, the words slipping out as you absentmindedly sip your wine.

Sydney raises an eyebrow, grinning. “You’re, like, disgustingly in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” you say with a laugh, glancing back over at him. He’s furiously pressing buttons, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, but that goofy grin of his hasn’t faded.

“So high school,” you grin, the fondness in your tone making the other two girls laugh.

Bella nudges your arm, smirking. “What’s the story? That sounded suspiciously nostalgic,”.

You freeze at Bella’s question, your cheeks instantly turning red. The memory that popped into your head wasn’t just nostalgic—it was scandalous, the kind of thing Joe would absolutely kill you for sharing.

Flashback to a few years ago

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and you’d just gotten back from lunch with friends—the little lunch date much needed after the jam-packed past few weeks you’d had with work, Joe, and football. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the TV and the familiar chatter of Joe’s voice, mixed with laughter from his high school friends through his headset.

As you walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, you spotted him lounging on the couch, completely absorbed in the game. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the fabric clinging to his shoulders in a way that drew your eye. His legs were spread in that effortlessly confident way he always seemed to sit, and the sight sent a small flutter through your stomach. When he noticed you, Joe muted his headset and placed it around his neck. “Hey, babe,” he greeted with an easy smile. “How was lunch?”.

“Good,” you replied, stepping closer. “The usual gossip, shit-talking, Becca venting about how she’s tired of waiting for Lance to propose but doesn’t have the courage to say something, and too many mimosas,”.

His gaze lingered as he nodded, completely used to the subjects you and your friends would cover during these lunches as you moved to sit beside him, a playful flicker lighting his eyes. “You look really good,” he said, the only thing he truly cared about was how gorgeous you looked.

You couldn’t help but grin, brushing his comment off with a teasing, “Thanks,” though your cheeks warmed at the way he was looking at you. As you leaned back into the couch, your flowy pink skirt shifted higher on your thighs. Joe’s eyes flicked down for the shortest moment before he smirked, his hand resting casually on your knee. His fingers traced lazy circles, light, and teasing, moving a fraction higher with each pass.

“Joe,” you murmured softly, your tone a mix of warning and intrigue.

“It’s fine,” he assured, his voice dipping lower. His hand slid higher, brushing the edge of your skirt. “They can’t see or hear. And besides…,” he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You owe me for this morning,”.

Your breath caught at the reminder. That morning, you’d left him with just enough to keep him on edge, teasing him with a brief but intense moment before you rushed out the door. Now, it seemed he wasn’t planning on letting you off so easily.

Joe leaned back into his casual pose again, headset in place, controller in hand. To anyone watching, he looked completely focused on the game. But the way his hand trailed higher, slipping under the hem of your skirt to brush against your bare thigh, told a very different story. “Joe,” you whispered again, your voice trembling as his fingers grazed your skin, igniting a fire that spread through your whole body.

“Relax,” Joe said, his voice so calm and unbothered it made your skin tingle. “Just sit back and enjoy.” His hand moved higher, fingers warm against your bare skin as they brushed the edge of your panties. Your breath caught as he let them linger there, teasing you with the promise of more. Slowly, he hooked a finger under the fabric, tugging it aside to expose your heat. The slight movement sent a shiver through you, anticipation pumping in your veins.

“Already this wet?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the chatter of his friends in his headset. There was pleasure in his tone, but also something darker, something possessive that made your cheeks flush. He knew he was the only one that got you like this, that had you like this.

When his finger slid inside you, the slow motion made you gasp softly. He was torturously unhurried, his pace designed to drive you insane. You bit down hard on your lip, struggling to hold back the sound building in your throat. His finger curled slightly, finding the spot that made your thighs tremble, and he stayed there, pressing just enough to send a shockwave through your body. Your hips bucked instinctively, seeking more, and his smirk deepened. “Careful,” he whispered, his eyes flicking to you briefly. “They might hear you,” he smirked, hitting unmute and sliding his headset back onto his ears.

“Oh my god, he’s insane,” you thought, your eyes widening as Joe continued chatting with his friends like nothing was happening. The ease in his voice was maddening, especially considering his hand was all over you right now. You shifted slightly, trying to keep your composure, but the intensity of his touch made it nearly impossible.

What if they heard you? The thought alone sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, mortification and arousal swirling together in your chest. If they found out, you’d never be able to look them in the eye again—hell, you’d probably never show your face in Athens again. But Joe didn’t seem to care. His thumb slid to your clit, brushing over it with precision. The sensation hit like a jolt of electricity, sharp and immediate, pulling a gasp from your lips that you barely managed to stifle.

You gripped the fabric of your skirt in desperation, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure threatened to consume you. His finger pressed deeper, the slow, deliberate rhythm making your pulse race. He wasn’t in a hurry—oh no. He moved as if he had all the time in the world, savoring every reaction he coaxed from you.

You clenched your fists, your breaths coming faster, and your head fell back against the couch. Joe added a second finger, the stretch making you gasp again. He began to pump them in and out, the pace steady but building, each movement sending you closer to the edge. “Joe,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible. Your body was trembling, heat coiling tightly in your core as he worked you over with such skill only he could have.

“I know, baby,” he murmured after muting himself again, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “I’ve got you,”.

His thumb circled your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, the rhythm perfect and unrelenting. The pressure built and built, a tight knot of pleasure in your belly threatening to snap. Your thighs shook as you tried to stay quiet, but every motion, every touch made it harder. Joe turned his head slightly, pretending to adjust his headset as he leaned closer. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just a little more,”.

The sound of his voice and the way his fingers moved inside you sent you spiraling. The tension in your body reached its breaking point, and your hips bucked against his hand as the climax tore through you. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your entire body trembling with the force of it. You bit down on your lip, muffling the cry that escaped, but Joe wasn’t satisfied. His fingers slowed but didn’t stop, dragging out every last wave of your release until you were left trembling and motionless against the couch.

When he finally withdrew his hand, he brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, his expression filled with smug satisfaction.

He picked up his controller again like nothing had happened, unmuting his headset and rejoining the conversation with his friends. His voice was casual, easy, as if he hadn’t just unraveled you completely.

You sat there, trying to catch your breath, your body still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened. Joe leaned over, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “That’s better,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek, his tone so smug it made your face feel like it was on fire.

His hand brushed your thigh one last time, a teasing reminder of what he’d just done, before he returned his full attention to the game. Meanwhile, you were left trying to steady yourself, still spinning from the way he’d left you completely undone.

End of flashback

You smile fondly at him after snapping back to the present, watching as he gets into “game mode” like he always does. It’s these moments, the little, playful ones, that make you realize just how lucky you are. The fact that he’s so fun, so carefree, yet still so committed to you—everything about him just feels right. It’s like you’ve found your person, and that feeling never gets old.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you smile back at your cousins, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Just a little moment between us that I remembered,”.

Bella raises an eyebrow playfully as she looks at Sydney while taking a sip of her wine, lucky for you they know you too well and know exactly what you were daydreaming about and decided to skip right over it. “Joe’s a really great guy,” she says, her voice soft and sincere as she smoothly switches the topic.

“Mhm, he really meshes with everyone so well,” Sydney adds, nodding thoughtfully. She pops a chip into her mouth, chewing slowly as she watches Joe laughing with your other cousins in the living room. “I swear, it’s like he’s known all of us since we were little. I mean, them on the couch is a splitting image of all of us from our summers here,”.

You smile, feeling a swell of pride in your chest as you look over at Joe. He’s so comfortable, so at ease with everyone around him, so in tune with your family as if they were his own—which he always told you they were. “He does,” you agree. “It’s one of the things I love most about him, how natural he is with everyone. He just fits,”.

Bella smirks and leans in as she glances back from Joe to you, “Anddd, he’s absolutely amazing to you,” she says, her grin widening. “It was so sweet of him to call us all over here because he knew how much you missed the summers here from our childhood. He’s such a sweetheart, like your real-life prince charming—the kind of guy you used to dream about in high school, right? Tall, starry eyes, broad shoulders, those adorable crinkles around his eyes, a football player to act like fire to your ice,”.

A blush creeps up your face, and you shift slightly in your seat, suddenly feeling shy under the weight of their words. But there’s a sense of warmth and safety in their teasing, and it only makes you think of Joe that much more fondly. “He’s...he’s just so normal, you know?” you say, your voice so featherlight which was always expected when you talk about him. “Even though he’s a millionaire NFL quarterback, he never lets it get to his head. He’s just...Joe. And that’s more than enough for me,”.

Sydney pats your thigh gently, “And he is absolutely head over heels in love with you. Like, you can see it in everything he does, Y/N. It’s impossible not to,”.

“Yeah, he really is,” you reply, your heart gushing with affection. You take a sip of your wine, but it’s not enough to quiet the warmth blossoming in your chest at the thought of him.

Sydney leans in, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she tries to dig for something that had been on her mind for quite some time now when it comes to you and Joe. “I mean, it’s been what? Five, six years now?”.

“Yup,” Bella responds, giving a knowing glance to you and Sydney.

Sydney chuckles, shaking her head. “Five, almost six years, and you’re still grinning like it’s the first day you two met. I mean, look at you. This is it, Y/N. This is the real deal,”.

Before you can respond, Bella jumps in with a dramatic flourish. “Here comes the bride!” she sings, mimicking a slow dance and causing you to break into laughter, unable to keep the giggles from escaping. Your cousins are both so playfully dramatic, but you wouldn’t trade them for anything. They knew how to make you feel loved and supported, especially when it came to Joe.

“Bella, you’re too much,” you giggle, rolling your eyes at her antics but secretly enjoying the teasing.

“Seriously though, is there a wedding in your near future?” Sydney asks, her tone more playful but still full of curiosity, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Don’t keep us in suspense, baby cousin. I need to know if I need to order cardboard cut-outs of Joe’s face for the bachelorette party ahead of time,”.

You glance over at Joe, who’s still lost in the game, chatting with your cousins, his laugh echoing in the room. The sight of him, so happy and nonchalant, makes your heart skip a beat. You smile to yourself before looking back at your cousins, a soft warmth spreading through you as you answer their questions. “Actually, yeah,” you say, your voice soft but full of certainty. “We’ve talked about it,”.

Both Sydney and Bella’s faces light up in unison, their expressions radiating pure, unfiltered joy. Bella lets out an excited squeal while Sydney leans forward and clutches your forearm, her eyes wide. “No way,” she says, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re seriously talking about getting married?”.

You nod, your smile growing as you feel the full weight of the moment. The future, the life with Joe you had planned out when you first came to Ohio with him, it’s all starting to feel so real. “I really think the idea of marrying me popped into his head the moment we met,” you giggled, “But it’s something we’re both excited about and I can’t imagine my life without him, and he feels the same way,” you smile, floating back to the memory of the moment the topic was first brought up.

Flashback to last summer

The sun was high in the sky, its warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket as you lounged on the pool chair. The soft creak of the chair beneath you paired with the rhythmic chirping of cicadas created a soothing soundtrack to the lazy summer afternoon. With your eyes closed and a peaceful smile on your lips, you let the gentle hum of summer wash over you.

The moment’s peace was interrupted by the faint dip of the chair beside you. You opened your eyes to see Joe kneeling next to you, his mischievous grin making your heart skip a beat. “Think you can make some room?” he asked, his tone playful, a wink punctuating his words.

Without hesitation, you smiled back and spread your legs slightly. “Always,” you replied, the playful tension building between you like the rising heat of the day.

Joe slid into the space between your legs, resting the back of his head softly against your belly. His arms encircled your thighs, holding you close, and you instinctively ran your fingers through his sunlit hair. The golden strands were soft beneath your fingertips, and a contented sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself relax completely. For a few moments, the two of you simply existed in each other’s presence, your heartbeats syncing in the quiet intimacy of the afternoon. Then, breaking the silence, Joe’s voice drifted up to you.

“Do you wanna get married?”.

The casualness of his tone caught you completely off guard. You blinked, lifting your head slightly to make sure you hadn’t misheard him. “What?” you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to see if he was serious.

“I said, do you wanna get married?” he repeated with a little laugh, shifting slightly so his head now rested against your chest. His arms wrapped tighter around your waist, his eyes peeking up at you with a mixture of vulnerability and charm.

You chuckled, your surprise giving way to amusement. “Is this your way of proposing?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you looked down at him.

Joe laughed at your lack of faith, did you seriously think that this is how he’d ask the love of his life, his favorite girl, to be his forever girl? “Not exactly. I don’t have a ring yet, and when I do propose, trust me—it’ll be a moment you’ll never forget. But I still want to know…would you want to marry me?”.

The question lingered in the air, and for a heartbeat, everything else seemed to fade. You could barely believe this was happening. You’d imagined your wedding day countless times before, wondered about the person who’d stand by your side, and now, here he was. Joe. Your boyfriend. Your best friend. Your everything.

The man you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl, the man who knew what he wanted and got her with such ease, confidence, and a love that knew no limits.

“Of course I would,” you smiled, the words slipping out of your mouth so effortlessly, like they had always been meant to be spoken. But as you said them, a whirlwind of emotions surged through you, leaving your heart racing in a way you hadn’t expected.

At that moment, it wasn’t just a simple response. It was everything you’d ever dreamed of; the feeling of being seen, loved, and cherished by the one person who had truly captured your heart. You couldn’t help but admire how far the two of you had come, from the innocent coffee spill in the library to this beautiful, heart-stopping moment when Joe was asking you if you wanted to marry him. You’d spent your whole life imagining what it would be like, dreaming of the perfect person to share your future with, and here he was, your person, looking up at you with so much love and hope in his eyes. It felt like your heart had exploded, radiating warmth and love that stretched through every inch of your being.

The weight of his question hung in the air, and you realized that this wasn’t just about the moment—it was about the entire future that was waiting for you both. The life you had always wanted, with the person you had always dreamed of. And as you looked down at Joe, his gentle smile and the sincerity in his eyes made you certain that this was it. You were ready.

“I couldn’t think of a better person to spend my life with,” you added, your voice soft but filled with certainty. The love you had for him was undeniable, and the realization that he wanted you beside him for the rest of your lives made you feel like the luckiest person on earth.

Joe’s eyes lit up, his grin wide and genuine. He half-expected you to say something half-assed and brush it off because even though he knew you loved him more than anything in the world, he always got in his head. “Really?” he asked.

“Really,” you replied, your heart swelling as you smiled back at him. “You’re my dream guy, Joe. Everything about you…just works for me. The way you love me, make me smile when I feel like the walls are caving in, the way your physical presence just brings me back down to earth. And I can’t forget the way you make me laugh when I’m on the verge of tears, or the way you make me feel so young…like I’m in high school every time I look at you and those gorgeous starry eyes. And I’m so glad I spilled that coffee on your textbooks in the library at LSU—it brought me to you. The best thing that could have ever happened to me,”.

Joe chuckled, his shoulders shaking lightly against you as he pressed a soft kiss to your chest. “Best accident of your life,” he murmured.

You ran your fingers gently along his back, the weight of his words settling into your heart. “I know life’s a little crazy right now with football and everything,” you said, your voice soft. “Focus on your goals, okay? And when the time is right…I’ll be here,”.

Joe lifted his head from your chest, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He moved closer, pressing soft kisses to your lips, one after another, each one filled with so much love and promise. “I love you so much,” he murmured between kisses.

“I love you too, future husband,” you whispered, and as Joe kissed you again, this time with a little more passion, you couldn’t help but feel that everything had already fallen into place. The dream of your future, of marriage, of a life with Joe, was no longer just a fantasy—it was becoming your reality piece by piece.

End of flashback

You blush, the memory and the weight of your cousin’s words from tonight feeling like an affirmation of everything you’ve always wanted. You look back over at Joe, watching as he finally notices the three of you watching him. He grins, his eyes softening when they meet yours. It’s that familiar look—filled with love, trust, and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“I think I’ve found my forever,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else. You know it, and they do too.

“Awwww,” your cousins say in unison, their voices dripping with excitement for you and Joe.

You laugh softly, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck, but you can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face. “So yeah,” you breathe out, “It’s gonna happen when it happens,” you shrug, pretending to act nonchalant, even though your heart is doing flips in your chest.

Sydney, ever the perceptive one, raises an eyebrow, her grin only getting wider. “Well, I have a feeling it’s gonna happen soon. My intuition has never failed me,” she says with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, clearly loving her role as the self-proclaimed psychic of the group.

“Syd’s right. Remember when her intuition said that the Zipper ride at the pier was going to break down mid-ride and that we shouldn’t go on it? And then 15 minutes later, what happened?” Bella chimes in as she raises her brows dramatically, referencing a memory that still makes you and the group laugh to this day because of how you and James almost got trapped there by yourselves.

You roll your eyes, laughing at how they always bring that up. “You guys are too much,” you giggle, getting off the barstool and heading to the sink to put the empty glasses away. But despite your words, there’s a warm, soft feeling in your chest—your cousins’ excitement only makes everything feel more real.

“Can’t help it. Baby Cousin is gonna be a Wifeyyyy!” Bella sings, dramatically twirling you around, her energy contagious as she pulls you into a hug. The way she says it—so full of love and excitement—makes you want to laugh and cry all at once. “Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes as you wrap your arms around her, the moment feeling like one of those memories you’d treasure forever.

—

The next hour flew by faster than you imagined, and part of that had to do with how you and the girls spent the entirety of your girl-talk planning out your and Joe’s wedding in your minds. From the flowers to the location to the honeymoon destination, even the kind of car you both would drive off in—everything was discussed, every detail thought out as if it were already real. It felt like your heart was racing with excitement, each idea sparking another, like you were crafting the most perfect version of your future.

Sydney and Bella were fully invested in helping you design your dream wedding, offering ideas that ranged from fairy-tale castles to cozy beachside ceremonies. Bella was stubborn about having soft, twinkling fairy lights everywhere, while Sydney kept throwing out ideas for a rustic barn setting, complete with twigs and greenery lining the aisle. You couldn’t help but laugh at how different their visions were, but at the same time, you loved it. Every suggestion felt like a tiny piece of the perfect puzzle that would eventually come together.

But before you could get too deep into things, you heard the video game sounds coming from the living room stop, followed by a voice breaking through the chatter. Yo, you guys ready to go to the pier?” Micheal called from the living room, his voice brimming with excitement.

Sydney and Bella exchanged a look before Sydney stood up with a mischievous grin. “Looks like the fun's just beginning,” she said, smoothing down her sundress as sat up from her barstool. “We’ll pick this up later, don’t worry. We can’t leave the guys hanging too long or I think James and Micheal would convince Joe to leave without us,”.

“Those two love that old ass rollercoaster overlooking the water so damn much, I think they’d actually jump the fences this time around if we weren’t allowed in,” you giggled, as you turned your head toward Joe, who was now standing by the door, arms crossed and leaning casually against the frame. He caught your eye and gave you that signature smirk, the one that made your heart do a little jump every time. He was clearly waiting for you, as if he couldn’t imagine going anywhere without you by his side.

You walked over to him, his arms already opened and waiting for you, like they always were. The second you were close enough, Joe pulled you into his chest, his warmth wrapping around you as effortlessly as his love always did. His scent—fresh, a mix of his usual Soleil Blanc and the remnants of your dip in the ocean earlier—hit you immediately, grounding you in his presence. You giggled softly, leaning into him as if he were the only thing keeping you steady from the amount of alcohol you’d consumed in the past two hours.

“Those two are going to be the death of me,” you murmured, your voice tinged with playful irritation, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed the warmth you felt. “I swear, I was two seconds away from playing referee between them while they argued about whether we should go rustic or coastal for our wedding vibe.” You rolled your eyes for effect but couldn’t help the soft laugh that followed, your mind replaying Sydney and Bella’s relentless bickering.

Joe chuckled, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through his chest as he pulled you a bit closer. His hands rested gently on your waist, thumbs tracing absentminded circles over the soft fabric of your lilac top. The subtle touch sent warmth spreading through you, like you were a planet caught in his orbit. “They do realize it’s our wedding, right? And that we’re going to make the decisions?” his voice was light, teasing, but his eyes held that familiar spark of adoration.

“They’d lose their minds if I told them we tossed around the idea of getting married in the backyard,” you joked, tilting your head to look up at him, your expression mischievous.

Joe smirked, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear, his voice dipping into that low, intimate tone that always sent shivers down your spine. “Which is exactly why we’re not telling them,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth twitching as his eyes gleamed with humor.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at how effortlessly he could make you feel like you were the only two people in the room. The rest of the world—your cousins, the chaos of dream wedding planning, even the little stresses in the back of your mind—faded into the background. All that mattered was the way he looked at you, like you were his entire world.

“They’re never going to let us live this down,” you said through your laughter, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. Your forehead dropped against his, the intimacy of the moment settling over you like a warm blanket.

Joe’s expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper, something that made your breath catch. “Let them try,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, grounding you in the same way his touch always did. “As long as you’re happy, I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks,”.

Your chest tightened, the sincerity in his voice hitting you squarely in the heart. You leaned your head slightly, your nose brushing his as your voice softened. “You’re too good at this, you know that?” you teased, though your words were wrapped in affection.

Joe’s lips quirked up into a tender smile, his blue eyes locking with yours in that way that always made you feel like time had stopped. “Not too good,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse race, “Just good enough for you,”.

He closed the small distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and consuming. It wasn’t hurried or brief; it was the kind of kiss that left you breathless, the kind that spoke of everything words couldn’t quite express. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, anchoring you to him as if he was afraid the moment might slip away. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a soft, content sigh. “You ready to go, beautiful?” he asked, his voice tinged with a comforting warmth as he reached over to grab the car keys sitting on the counter.

You smiled, leaning into him for a brief moment longer like you were trying to absorb all the love and reassurance he gave so effortlessly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice soft.

It wasn’t until you stepped back and glanced toward the kitchen that you realized all your cousins were standing by the island, unabashedly staring at the two of you with wide, knowing grins plastered across their faces. “Y’all are disgusting,” James deadpanned, breaking the moment with a dramatic roll of his eyes, though the amused twitch of his lips betrayed him.

Sydney smirked, “Seriously, we’re all standing right here. Get a room,”.

Bella groaned as she dropped her head on Micheal’s shoulder in sadness, “You’re setting the bar way too high for the rest of us, Joe. I’m painfully single and no man ever treats me like that,”.

You felt your cheeks heat, but before you could respond, Joe just grinned and threw his arm over your shoulders, effortlessly pulling you against his side as he walked you both toward where your shoes were. “Can’t help it,” he said easily, shooting your cousins a smug look over his shoulder. “She’s the love of my life. What do you expect?”.

Your cousins groaned in mock protest, but you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face, your heart soaring at the way he acted so possessive with you. Joe leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your temple as you reached the door, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And don’t you ever forget it,” he whispered, his words wrapping around your heart like a promise.

You glanced up at him, your eyes sparkling with emotion, and in that moment, you knew: he wasn’t just good enough for you. He was perfect.

A few minutes later

The car hummed softly as you and Joe cruised down the beachside roads, the late evening light casting a golden glow through the windows. You leaned back against the headrest, stealing glances at Joe as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. He had that familiar concentration on his face, the one he always wore when he was focused on something, and it made you feel a little giddy inside.

Joe broke the comfortable silence eventually, looking over at you with a grin, “So, Micheal’s been bugging me about growing my hair out again,” he said with a slight chuckle. “He’s convinced that the long hair brings good energy around…something about how something about how it makes me look younger and carefree. I think he just wants to see me with a ponytail. But he better not ever hold his breath because I am never growing it out that much,”.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “Long hair, huh?” you said, tilting your head as you stared at him. You couldn't help but imagine it again, his hair the way he had it just a few years ago.

The hair that had you weak in the knees for months.

“Yeah, man keeps saying I should try it again and not just cut it after having one bad game,” Joe continued, glancing at you for a second with a small, teasing smirk. “What do you think? Should I?”.

You bit your lip, trying to hide your excitement as the thought of him with longer hair started to swirl in your mind. The image of him with his hair just enough for a headband to keep it out of his face—it made your heart race. There was nothing more you loved than Joe’s little long hair period…god those curls…those curls were still present in your dreams.

“I’m so down bad for that,” you blurted, your voice almost a little breathless. “Like, seriously.” You leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on his body as you tried to control the longing in your voice. “I love it when you wear a headband. You look...so much younger. In the best way. Like, I can’t even tell you how much I love that look on you,”.

Joe chuckled, clearly amused. “You like that, huh?” he said, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before he turned back to the road. His lips curved upward as he took in your expression.

“You have no idea,” you replied, the heat in your voice rising with each word. “It drives me crazy. And not just because you look cute with a headband, but because I love pulling on your hair during—,”. You cut yourself off, suddenly realizing where the conversation was heading, but the tension between you two already felt thick the promise from earlier in the day—finishing what you started before your cousins got here.

Joe’s smirk only deepened, a knowing twinkle flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” he teased, his a little raspy now. He reached up, running a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat rising in your body at the thought of his hair long enough to tug on.

The silence that followed was comfortable but charged, the air between you two humming with something you both felt but didn't need to say out loud. He turned onto a quieter road, the faintest smile playing on his lips as he clearly thought about the very thing you'd just mentioned.

“You know,” Joe began, his voice quieter, more intimate now, “Maybe I should grow it out just for you. Screw being more carefree…I could just give you more to pull on,”. His eyes flicked to yours again, and you both shared a look, your heart racing, the playful banter now laced with something deeper.

You leaned back in your seat, feeling a mix of desire and affection as you watched him. “I think you should,” you said, your voice just a little breathy. “For me? Definitely,”.

Joe chuckled again, that deep, smooth sound that always made your stomach flutter. “Alright, well, looks like I’m growing it out then,” he said, with a wink. “And maybe I'll even rock that headband more often for you,”

You grinned, feeling the rush of anticipation bubbling inside you. “Good,” you replied, voice dripping with teasing sweetness. “And just so you know, I’ll be taking full advantage of that hair...every chance I get,”.

Joe moved his hand from the center console and gently placed it on your thigh, the weight of his touch grounding you in the most comforting way. His hand was warm and steady, a quiet reassurance that he was there, always there. The soft squeeze he gave your thigh sent a ripple of love through you, making your chest ache in the best way. “You having fun?” he asked, his voice filled with nothing but affection, like it was impossible for him to speak to you any other way.

You leaned into him slightly, smiling as your fingers grazed over the back of his hand. “I am,” you said, your voice warm, sincere. “Thank you so much for doing this, baby.” You lifted his hand to your lips, brushing a soft kiss over his knuckles. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt monumental, like every touch held the weight of a thousand unspoken promises.

Joe glanced at you with that smile—the one that could make your heart stop and your breath hitch all at once. “Hey,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes serious, filled with the kind of love that made you weak in the knees. “They’re my family too,” he nodded toward the road ahead where your cousins’ car was just up the way, but his gaze quickly returned to you. The look in his eyes told you everything—this wasn’t just for you. This was for him, too. Being with you, being part of your world, was exactly where he wanted to be.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on him a little longer than you intended, the moment stretching out between you. The soft glow from the boardwalk lights reflected off his face, and for a second, everything else melted away. God, how was this your life? Joe wasn’t just a dream come true—he was the dream. The man who had walked into your world and made it brighter in every possible way. Your family adored him, your friends sang his praises, and you? You were so in love with him, it physically hurt and sometimes it felt like you couldn’t breathe. No one else could make you feel this way—no one else ever would. The Cove might have been your home, but you realized that home was wherever he was.

He was your home, your peace, your future. Just as this place was for you when you were younger.

“You know,” Joe said, breaking the silence again and glancing at you quickly before turning his focus back to the road, “It’s crazy how everything changed in the blink of a crinkling eye,”. “Feels like just yesterday we were sitting across from each other at that FroYo place near campus,”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the memory, the sound warm and nostalgic just like the thought of that date. “I know,” you replied, leaning your head back against the seat. “You were so nervous…it was so adorable,”.

Joe chuckled, his hand squeezing your thigh gently. “I was not nervous,” he protested, though the playful tone in his voice betrayed him. “You were just…you were something else. You still are. I remember sitting there, trying to act all cool, but the second you smiled at me like how you do now, I was done for. Take my heart, my attention, my breath, my last name. It’s all yours,”.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart swelling with the memory. “I remember thinking, ‘This guy? The quarterback? He’s way too good to be true.’ But then you made that dumb joke about how toppings are what separate FroYo from ice cream and that little conversation about Fred’s and I thought, ‘Yep, this one’s a keeper’,”.

“I still stand by that joke. It’s a classic one my dad used to tell, I do a great impression of him…as you know, and that was one of them,” he smiled.

You grinned, the warmth in your chest spilling over into your words. “It’s wild how far we’ve come, though. From that little FroYo shop to this…to us,” you paused, your voice softening. “Back then, I had no idea how much my life was about to change,”.

Joe’s hand left your thigh for a moment, only to reach over and entwine his fingers with yours. “Neither did I,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I knew, even then, that you were it for me. Everything else—the football, the attention, all of it—it never mattered as much as being with you,”.

Your throat tightened at his words, the significance of his sincerity washing over you. “Joe…,”. you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “You make me feel so…safe. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,”.

Joe glanced at you again, his blue eyes soft and full of love. “That’s because you are,” he said simply. “And I am too. Right here with you,”.

The car fell into a comfortable silence after that, the hum of the engine and the soft sound of the ocean breeze outside the only noise. You reached over and placed your free hand on his arm, squeezing gently, as the glow of the Ferris Wheel grew brighter in the distance.

Being here with him, in this moment, felt like stepping into a dream. The memory of that first date at LSU seemed both so far away and yet so close, like it had all happened in another lifetime. And yet, every step since then had led you here—to this moment, to this life, to him.

It really did feel like everything had changed in the blink of an eye, but somehow, it also felt like it had always been leading to this.

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice pulled you back to reality, light and teasing. “You’re staring at me again,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk.

You blinked as your laughter bubbled up, “I know,” you admitted. You glanced back out at the boardwalk lights as they came into clearer view. You hadn’t even noticed how close you were to the pier—the car rolling into the lot barely registered in your mind. You’d been too busy getting lost in him.

Joe shot you a knowing look, his smirk growing. “Well…you gonna tell me why this time?”.

You let out a soft, content sigh, your heart feeling impossibly full. “I just feel so high school every time I look at you,” you confessed, the words tumbling out without hesitation. Your voice was light, almost dreamy; just like him. “Like, I feel 16 again. I’m dating the quarterback—the one who notices me in the stands and actually falls for me. It’s like every stupid fantasy I had when I was younger, but so much better. I never thought I’d have the courage to make a move, but you did. You knew what you wanted, and now, here we are. It’s like I’m living a teen rom-com with you,” you paused, glancing out at the pier where the Ferris Wheel spun slowly in the night sky. “Being here, doing all of this, it just feels like I’ve stepped into one of my favorite memories and brought you with me,”.

Joe parked the car, his hand still entwined with yours, but his eyes were now fully on you. His gaze softened as your words settled in, and you could see the way his heart melted in real-time. He leaned closer, his hand leaving yours to cup your cheek instead. His thumb brushed along your jawline, slow and tender, as he whispered, “Y/N, I love you,”. The raw emotion in his voice made your heart race. “You’re my dream, too. Then, now, and forever,” he added, his words barely audible but no less powerful.

You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “I love you too, Joe. Thank you for making my dream a reality,”.

The kiss that followed was soft, sweet—one that held the weight of everything you both felt but didn’t need to say out loud. The neon glow from the Ferris Wheel bathed you in its warm light, painting the moment in hues of magic. It was like something out of a high school movie—the kind of scene that stayed etched in your memory forever. Sitting there, in the car with the man of your dreams, at the very place where so many of your favorite memories were made, felt like a full-circle moment.

When you finally pulled away, breathless but grinning, your laughter bubbled up, soft and full of warmth. “You know how that felt?” you asked, your voice light but tinged with meaning, your eyes never leaving his.

Joe’s lips curved into that familiar, boyish grin that always made your heart skip. His voice was playful yet tender as he replied, “So high school?”.

A laugh escaped you, your chest tightening with affection. “So high school,” you echoed, your voice carrying a mix of amusement and something softer, something deeper. You leaned in again, brushing your lips against his for another quick kiss, but before the moment could last, a loud knock against the window shattered your little bubble.

“Come onnn, lovebirds!” Micheal’s teasing voice broke through, loud and full of mock impatience. “We don’t have all night!”.

Joe groaned, shaking his head as he chuckled. “They’re relentless,” he murmured, shooting you an amused glance before opening his door and stepping out. In one smooth motion, he rounded the car to open your door, as he always did. His hand was there immediately, warm and steady, as he helped you out. His fingers entwined with yours, fitting perfectly like they belonged there and you could just sink into him.

“Let’s make this night ours,” Joe whispered, his voice low and intimate, meant only for you. His thumb brushed softly over your hand, a silent promise in the touch. You looked up at him, your heart full, and nodded, unable to do anything but smile.

Together, you walked toward the pier, your steps falling effortlessly in sync as if your bodies knew the rhythm of being together better than anything else. The neon glow of the Ferris Wheel reflected in his eyes, making them shine even brighter than usual. The salty ocean breeze danced around you, lifting your hair and kissing your cheeks, but all you felt was the warmth of his hand in yours and the unshakable joy radiating between you.

It wasn’t just a walk to the pier—it was a moment that felt timeless. Being with Joe felt like those endless summer nights you’d spent as a teenager, where the world seemed to stop spinning and all that existed was love, laughter, and the glow of possibilities. He made you feel carefree and infinite, like you could bottle this moment and carry it with you forever.

As the sound of the waves filled the air, and the lights of the pier painted the night with magic, you squeezed Joe’s hand, glancing up at him. His expression was soft, his smile easy, but the way he looked at you held so much more. It was a look that said you were his world, his dream, his forever.

The future stretched out ahead of you, glowing with promise like the lights strung along the boardwalk. With Joe by your side, it didn’t feel uncertain—it felt certain. Certain that no matter what was to come, you’d face it together. In that moment, your heart swelled with the kind of love you’d only dreamed of, the kind that made everything else fade into the background.

Joe glanced down at you, his grin turning playful as he nudged you lightly. “So, you wanna hit the Ferris Wheel first or grab some cotton candy?”.

You laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walked. “Both,” you said, your voice light with excitement. “We’re doing everything tonight, Mr. Quarterback,”.

He chuckled, his hand squeezing yours as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Anything you want, lovebug,”.

And just like that, with the Ferris Wheel spinning above and the sound of your cousins laughing in the background, you knew. This was your forever. With Joe, every moment felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from—a love story that would only grow sweeter with time.

–The End–

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