#the quick release chapter 3

[ribbononline]

New fic by @silverjirachi out wahoo wahoo! Go support it!!

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

okay since my ability to focus is shot to hell ill just make a list of chapters i want to jump straight to when the webnovel drops ✌️ in order of priority

Ch 58: the duo visit tesilid in detention/prison/whatever during tutorial period.

i need to see with my own eyes if hestio's lines were retconned by irinbi later on or something. and then put a comment in the comic version telling people to visit this novel chapter.

Ch 53: convo w cartelyena.

i need to know what verb they used to describe tesilid's reaction.

Ch 28-29: The duo's banter in toy mansion.

please i need to know how to capture their voice PSPSPSPSPSPSPS

wait this just turned into "i'm just going to update my vatican trio line spreadsheet" LOL. tbf those are the parts i'm more concerned about in the tutorial era. unfortunately i think the release day chapters will probably only reach around chapter 50+ max, which would just be the end of season 1 😔 it won't even cover the top 2 chaps i want to check out orz.

[kuraikyu]

Me, every time one Cyclops cat unleashes a chapter bc now the vibes are just: t h i s.

[cupidsdolll]

The Feeling Came Late (I'm Still Glad I Met You)

pairings: grumpy!college student! Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this toh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter 3/? (wc: 4.8k)

masterlist

001 | 01 | 02 | 03

Chapter 3 - The First Session

The sound of a muffled alarm is barely heard in Harry's room, he’s too busy being occupied with other things. 

"Oh fuck, just like that baby. Doing s'good f'me." Harry moans as his grip tightens in the brunette's hair. Her mouth feels heavenly as she chokes on him, her throat tightening around his tip when she takes too much. He rolls his eyes back and curses out loud when she slows her pace, her tongue circling his tip when she reaches it before slowly gliding back down. 

She pulls away long enough to spit onto her hand and quickly takes his leaking dick back into her more than welcoming mouth. She begins to bob her head slowly as she uses the hand she spit on to quickly jerk off the rest she can't fit in her mouth. Harry hums in appreciation as she slows her pace again, taking her time to suck him off. 

Harry can feel the spit dripping from her lips and onto the fern tattoos on his v-line as she continues, alternating between fast and slow, and she experiments with different things. As she comes back to his leaking tip, she runs her tongue over the slit and Harry shakes in pleasure. 

"Oh fuck, just like that baby. You're g'nna make me cum, your mouth feels so good." He says between moans when she picks up her pace and uses the hand that was wrapped around him to cup his balls as she moans softly around him. 

He can feel his stomach beginning to tighten as he slowly begins to fuck her mouth. He's close, he's so close he can taste it as she goes lower and lower. More spit falls from her lips and she begins to get messy, more careless, just wanting to taste his seed going down her throat. The sound of her soft gags and the wet sounds of him slipping in and out of her mouth only egging him on. 

She speeds up just slightly and goes back up, choosing to suck softly on just the tip. He can feel his balls drawing up and his length beginning to twitch as his hips begin to falter. 

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming, s'good baby. So good for me, that's it, swallow it all." He moans as he slowly continues thrusting in her eager mouth, milking himself for all he's worth as his eyes flutter shut and he releases the grip on the brunette's hair. 

He sighs as she gets up and sits next to him, her hand gently rubbing small strokes on his thigh as he comes down. He can feel her begin to kiss his jawline softly, slowly trailing down his neck and he hums softly. 

"Wait, what’s that sound? Do you hear that?" He asks as his eyes open and he looks around, the sound of his alarm is audible but just only barely. He quickly gets up from his bed and scrambles around his room in search of the small item. 

Quickly grabbing a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers from his dresser, he yanks them on before searching the pile of clothes on the floor.  In the process of him pulling his pants up to search the pockets, the desired phone falls and lands onto the brunette's discarded shirt, the sound of the alarm becoming louder. He grabs it and stops the alarm and curses under his breath when he sees the time, the alarm’s been going off for over fifteen minutes. 

He instinctively turns his attention to the halfway dressed girl sitting on his bed, and frowns. 

"You gotta go." He says as he throws on a hoodie and some shorts, messily throwing his hair in a bun as he gets dressed. 

"What do you mean you gotta go? Don't tell me your girlfriend is on the way?" She asks, her voice raspy as she frowns at him. 

"No, but you gotta get out like now. I gotta go somewhere." He watches her shake her head as she searches for her discarded bra and curses at him, yelling at how horrible he is and what she's supposed to do now as he yanks a pair of socks on. 

She angrily huffs as she walks out of his part of his dorm and slams the front door. He rolls his eyes as he slips on a pair of vans before grabbing his lone textbook sitting on the edge of the bed, heading to the front door. He gives a small pet to Delilah as he opens the door, telling the small kitten he'll be back soon and closes the door. He quickly locks it and jogs through the dorm building, down the stairs and outside towards the parking lot. 

He's never been more grateful for parking nearest to the building as he quickly spots his car. He picks up the pace slightly as he gets closer to his car, the wind pricking at his eyes causing him to squint. The short jog feels like forever as he gets closer, close enough to unlock the door and reach a tattooed arm to the door and pull it open. He rushes into the car, pulling the door closed behind him as he puts the keys in the ignition and turns them, the car stuttering to life as he quickly backs out and begins his journey to the library. 

He passes different trees, stores and restaurants on his way. The world seems to move in slow motion and he huffs angrily. 

Fuck Y/N for being so smart and fuck her and her stupid schedules. He hates her, if it weren't for him needing a tutor, he'd be balls deep inside of the brunette from earlier. 

— — — 

He huffs in annoyance as he pulls into the parking lot of the library, choosing to park in the spot closest to the building he spots her bike sitting in the rack all tied up and he's kinda grateful she chose to stay. He turns off the car and quickly heads to the entrance as he clicks the button on his keys to lock the door. He opens the door and looks around, tall bookshelves lining the walls and standing in straight rows block his view of finding Y/N. 

He huffs as he wanders through the library, eyes scanning for any sign of her in between the walls of books and at the tables scattered throughout the empty spaces. As he wanders through the building and makes his way to the back of the library, he can't help but to feel a slight flutter in his chest; it's definitely,actually there’s no way in hell that it could be,  not one of excitement but he doesn't think he's nervous so he's not sure what exactly he's feeling. 

His eyes scan over his surroundings and he finally spots her standing at one of the empty tables in the corner. He begins to slowly make his way over to her and he watches as she begins to put all of her belongings into the tote bag. Even though he can tell she's upset, it’s written all over her face, she still manages to gently place everything away. He clears his throat and she quickly turns around, her eyes narrowed and a frown sits on her face as she glares at him. 

She gently places her bag on the back on a nearby empty chair and begins to cross her arms. 

"You're late.." her voice wavers but he knows better than to comment on it. He chooses to avoid the conversation, simply nodding in response as he moves to sit down next to her bag. 

"No explanation? I think I deserve something since you're over an hour late Harry. You were supposed to text me and let me know." She pulls her textbooks out from her tote bag and sets them gently on the table. 

She sighs softly as she pulls a couple worksheets from one of her binders and sets them alongside the textbook. 

"You know.. don't even know why I allowed myself to get upset, you were never one to be on time. This is normal for you, it’s my fault for expecting something more out of you, " She says with a small laugh and he furrows his eyebrows ever slightly, the frown only increasing with every sentence that comes from her lips. 

He's never been so close to her like this and it throws him off. He can make out the mascara coated lashes that fan her cheeks with every blink and her perfume fills his nose which only increases his already grumpy mood. In a feeble attempt to distract himself, he scoots his chair away from her subtly and rests his head on the back of his hand. 

The library's quiet, the only sound in the room is the humming of the air conditioner and the faint shuffling from the students as they walk around. The smell of old books fills the air and a few rays of light filter through the glass windows sitting high on the white painted walls. Students walk in, idly whispering among each other as they quickly silence their phones as they walk over the tall wooden shelves and search for the book they need. 

His eyes quickly flit back to hers, green orbs meeting soft irises filled with annoyance as she tilts her head to the left ever so slightly. 

"You're not even listening to me. I'm trying to explain all these so your attention would be very much appreciated." She says and he hums quickly, eyes staring straight ahead as he crosses his arms and leans back into the uncomfortable wooden chair. 

As she begins to explain the basics of poetry, pointing to all the different elements as she lists them off, Harry can feel his mind wandering once again. Small glimpses of happier times, easier ones flash through his mind, quickly jumping from one scene to the other. He breathes through his nose in annoyance, the action not going unnoticed by Y/N but she chooses not to speak on it. She figures she'll allow him to wallow in his grumpiness as long as he pays attention. 

She can't help but to sneak peeks of Harry as she speaks, turning her head ever so often as she explains what each element is and why it's important. A couple stray curls have fallen from his bun and framed his face, a furrow formed in the middle of his brows as he stares at the middle of his side of the table, and she can't help but smile softly at the fond memories. 

"Reminds you of something?" She asks and all she gets in return is a very soft grunt, one that could be considered either agreement or disagreement. 

She gently turns the pages towards the grumpy boy sitting next to her, her polished finger points to the beginning part of the poem. 

"Can you tell me what this is?" She asks, her voice slightly above a whisper so he can hear her. He hums once, turning his gaze to her as a small smirk begins to form on his lips. He shrugs once as he pushes the paper away with one hand, his intense gaze never leaving hers. He watches her features begin to harden and turn into frustration. 

Her brows begin to furrow and her mouth turns downwards, her eyes darting between his and the paper on the table as he pushes it away. She stares at him in disbelief before shaking her head and shutting her eyes, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she sighs. 

"I can't do the work for you Harry, you have to do it so you can remember it. You don't wanna repeat again do you?" He hums twice as he keeps his gaze on her face, mapping out the three little lines resting in the middle of her eyebrows. 

She brings one hand over to the discarded paper and pulls it back towards him, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she pulls her hand away. The silence is deafening as they stare into each other's eyes, frustration meeting stubbornness, warmth colliding with cold, two complete opposites fighting internally as the stare-off continues. 

The sound of someone laughing breaks the silence, but it's only briefly; the air conditioning fans cold air throughout the building and goosebumps begin to form on the back of her neck. She sighs softly as she breaks her gaze away from his intense gaze, moving her hands to fidget with the ends of her long sleeves as she stares at the paper laying on the desk. 

She knows he's always been stubborn so this shouldn't be a surprise. He's like this with everybody but she can't help but to wonder why he seems to treat her worse. She doesn't expect them to be best friends but he definitely shouldn't hate her. As her thoughts run through her head, she brings one hand back to the table and moves the discarded paper in between them. 

"I cannot do the work for you and I will not do it. You should want to pass this exam Harry. I get that it's the first lesson and I wasn't expecting this to be smooth sailing - but I was at least expecting even the tiniest bit of cooperation here. It's okay if you don't like me, but for your sake can you work with me here? This will all be done a lot faster if you try." She says as she points to the paper between them, a finger pointing towards the beginning of the poem where they left off. 

Harry stares at the paper briefly before reluctantly opening up the textbook laying in front of Y/N and flipping the pages to the section she's attempting to teach from. His eyes skim over the page, aiming to get the session done as soon as possible and for him to not have to hear her voice more than he has to.

He quickly finds the answer and he silently points to it. He can hear her sigh sadly and it's full of disappointment, he can’t bring himself to care though. It’s not like he asked to be tutored by her so of course he’s not going to make things easier for her, he only technically agreed to this because he’ll have so much fun making things annoyingly difficult for her. All of this is overwhelming for him, there’s just so much happening all at once. The ends of her hair graze his hand as she leans over just slightly to check his textbook page and her floral scented perfume fills his nose once more and he frowns at just how well it suits her, soft and sweet, inviting and comforting. Being this close to her for this long is affecting him, he thinks, messing with his brain and ruining his plan. He can’t let that happen though, it’d fuck everything up.  A soft smile begins to form on her lips as she leans back to her own seat after looking over his answer. 

"It wasn't that bad right? You got it right, good job Harry." She murmurs as she turns to look at him. 

She takes note of the way his mouth is turned downward and she wonders how his muscles

aren't in pain constantly from having to sit like that all the time. It’s a little funny the more she thinks about it, seeing him always having a frown and the worst attitude and having his face stuck like that forever. She imagines him years down the line, working at maybe a tattoo parlor or wherever he chooses, at his wedding (if he ever manages to actually settle down) with his signature frown plastered on his face. She can’t stop the laugh that spills from her mouth, but quickly stops it. That doesn’t stop Harry from looking at her with narrowed eyes and raised eyebrows, it’s a brief look like always. His frown comes back as he shakes his head as if he’s shaking some thoughts from his mind. She pulls the paper to her and quickly marks it with her pen, highlighting important parts and little things she thinks might help him remember. She gently slides the paper back over to him and smiles softly. 

"I've left some notes about everything so as long as you study this after we're done, next time won't take as long." 

— — — 

The time passes rather slowly but Y/N thinks it's simply because she's the only one talking. She's tried to initiate conversation with him, asking him about his classes, the latest tv show, and even attempting to talk about the weather! He refuses to talk to her, either replying with a blank stare, a simple huff or gruff hum accompanied by a shrug. 

She doesn't mind the silence usually, but not when there's supposed to be a conversation. She thought he would take this at least somewhat seriously and she'd have to answer all of Harry's questions - work related and unrelated because she knows he likes to try to annoy her and get under her skin - and at least they'd make small talk about school, after all this is a tutoring session and she knows that he doesn’t understand everything she’s talking about. This silence is anything but comfortable, it's awkward and full of tension, it’s smothering and claws at her throat as it tries to pull out any sense of conversation; it's the kind of silence that makes her blurt out all these random questions and statements to try to fill it so she won't end up packing up all her things and running out as fast as her legs can carry her. 

She should be used to this type of tension between them, the way he's always picking on her, throwing harsh words and nasty glares that she does her best to ignore. But to her, this tension feels different, it feels thicker; it could have something to do with the fact they're in close proximity, sharing the same table and the way her hair keeps grazing his hand which causes him to freeze up and scowl at her until she moves back to her side of the table, not that it’s much further than where she is as she looks over the paper. 

She doesn't have to wonder if she's the only one to feel the difference because Harry's body language tells her everything she needs to know. She can see how tense his shoulders are, how he's been bouncing his leg from underneath the table for the past hour and the way he's moved his chair as far as the table will allow him but kept the worksheets and textbook in the middle so she can see. 

Her phone buzzes from in her back pocket as she explains the different types of poems, she quickly excuses herself as she grabs her phone and unlocks it. She sees a message from her best friend asking her to come over so they can binge watch their favorite tv show, she smiles softly as she replies quickly - telling her that she'll be over as soon as her study session with Harry is over. She quickly puts her phone back into her pocket and goes to apologize to Harry when she's met with him already looking at her. 

The frown is still plastered in his face and his eyebrows are furrowed. He still looks angry but he also looks confused, like he’s angry that he’s confused and curious about whatever is going on inside of his head. He looks lost in his own thoughts as his emerald eyes stay locked on her face. The silence that fills the building seems to become even more deafening because the look on his face is one she hasn't seen before and it confuses the hell out of her. 

She doesn't know whether to comment on it or to simply ignore it and move on with their session. There's two ways this interaction can go; if she comments on his behavior there's a chance he'll get upset and leave early, and if she ignores it she's afraid whatever tension is happening between them will get awkward (even though it’s already awkward as hell). 

She exhales loudly as she breaks eye contact, her eyes choosing to focus on the textbook in front of her instead of the viridescent orbs beside her. Her hands play with the corners of the pages, her thumb running upwards causing the pages to slide against it as they fall. 

She bites her bottom lip nervously as her eyes graze over the words written on the page explaining all the different kinds of poems and the best way to use each one. 

She can't tell how much time has passed, but she can't help but to wonder how long until their session is up. All of the silence and tension between them is draining her, all she wishes to do now is curl up on her bed and take a much needed nap. Her eyes feel heavy as she continues scanning the pages, her hand now resting on the bottom corner of the page. 

She slowly turns her head to face Harry, she can't help but to see how tense he looks. His hands enclosed in a tight fist as they rested on top of the table, the frown prominent in his face seems to grow deeper every time she looks at him, accompanied by the deep furrow in his eyebrows, his leg bouncing rapidly underneath the table and his green eyes focused on the wall ahead of him. The question she was gonna ask is now stuck inside her throat, the fear of upsetting him any more takes over the want to make sure he understands the information they've gone over today. 

She hums softly as she gently begins to pull the worksheet from beside him and closer to her. She grabs her favorite pen and begins to write a few small notes on the empty space on the bottom, leaving a few smiley faces in the corner as she makes sure to write clearly so he can understand everything. 

Her notes are simple, but she feels like it's just enough to pass him over until they decide when to meet up next for their next session. She smiles softly as she looks over everything and then slides it back over to him. His eyes quickly glance over in her direction as her hand gets closer in his space and then quickly moves back to their original spot focused on the wall. 

She can't believe how he's acting as if being close to her is such a problem, she's only seen him this quiet and stiff once but that was years ago. After he got over whatever it was, he started hanging out with different people, becoming louder and completely changed who he was. 

That's when everything changed and now her mere presence bothers him deeply, one strong enough that he looks like he's about to explode if he has to stay at this table any longer. There's a faint beeping from the elderly librarian checking out books combined with the soft tapping of the keyboard as other students type up papers for classes and doing research that fills the silence that sits between them. 

She opens her mouth but quickly shuts it, she's afraid that she's just going to upset him even more and then he'll call off for the rest of their session. She hates this, she hates how he always makes her afraid to speak and she hates how he knows that he has this effect on her.

She clears her throat and shuts her eyes, if she can't see him then she should be able to talk to him properly. 

"I've written some more notes on it, and if it's hard to understand I can type it all out on a separate document and give it to you. I'll probably do that anyways if I'm being honest. Hopefully it all makes sense to you! If you have any questions or if you don't get something, you can always text me and I'll respond when I can!" She opens her eyes just in time to watch his figure make its way through the space and towards the entrance. 

Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times before she finds her voice and at this moment, the frustration takes over the logic that she's still in the library. She huffs in annoyance as she slams the textbook shut.

"You could've at least grabbed the textbook!" She yells as his frame exits through the door, causing all the students and the librarian to look at her with accusatory looks on their faces. 

She's too annoyed to even think about apologizing, gathering all the extra paper and the textbook as she stacks everything together. She grabs her tote bag and stuffs everything in there, mumbling under her breath as she clears off the table. She's upset, she's mad, and she's confused as fuck. 

She can feel the tears begin to well in her eyes as she stares at the door, her hand clutching the strap of her tote bag as she holds it close to her body.  She sniffles as she makes her way  to the entrance, softly apologizing to the librarian as she passes. The short walk feels as if she's walking in slow motion, the door feels heavy against her hand as she pushes it open. 

As soon as she steps outside and the sun setting in the sky paints the sky with beautiful pink and orange meshing together, the soft breeze blowing her hair behind her slightly makes her feel even more upset. The tears begin to fall freely from her eyes, staining her cheeks as they cascade down her cheeks. 

She's upset at him for leaving so coldly after being late and barely even acknowledging her existence. She's mainly upset at herself though, she gave herself this stupidly false hope that this one session would somehow make it easier for them to tolerate one another. She's upset about arriving early and staying up later than she would've liked to plan out everything and print out the worksheets for him. She's just sad!

She knew that this wasn't just gonna magically change anything, and she knew that the first session more than likely wasn't going to be easy, but she wished that it went better than how it did. She felt a little embarrassed at how little attention he gave to the lesson, let alone her during the hour and a half they spent in the library as she checks her phone and sees the time. 

She sighs as she heads to the bike rack and bends down to undo the lock holding her bike to the metal rack. She wipes her tears before setting the chain and lock in her tote and pulls her bike away, swinging one leg over the middle as she gets situated. She begins to pedal, her bike moving on the far end of the sidewalk as she begins to make her journey over to her friend's house.

— — — 

She huffs, slightly out of breath from the long ride from the library to her friend's house as she sets her bike against the front of the house. She gingerly walks up to the white framed door and raises her hand to knock on it as the door

swings open. She's met with her friend sporting a big smile as she wraps her arms around her friend. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so happy to see you! Come in, come in!" she exclaims and Y/N nods happily. She follows her friend inside and sits beside her on the beige colored couch. 

"So how was the session?" With the reminder of how it ended, a frown forms on her face.

"Oh it was so bad! First he arrived late, and then didn't even explain why! To make matters worse, he didn't even speak to me for the whole hour and a half we were in the library, and then he just walked out without even letting me know he was leaving!" Y/N exclaims, she can feel her eyes begin to burn as tears start to form in her eyes. 

Her friend doesn't waste a second before she's embracing the young girl in her arms, wrapping around her shoulders tightly as Y/N begins to sob in her shoulder. She can't recall a time she was so upset, and it's almost embarrassing how this little incident is making her so upset. She just wishes everything that has to do with Harry wasn't so.. hurtful.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), some more pining, cussing (bkg-typical), mentions of food, we're finally meeting the bakugous!, angst (if you look closely)

words. 4.8k (see why i had to split it...)

a/n. we have one more chapter to go, y'all! i'd love to hear your thoughts about the series so far, as well as how you think it's gonna end <3

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 9

It doesn’t elude you that the air entering your nostrils and lungs through the shaky inhale you take is nothing short of crisp.

It’s early evening in the suburbs where Bakugou’s parents live just in the peripheries of Musutafu. The sunset that graced you through the man’s car windows on the way over was now nowhere to be seen, having been replaced by the sight of the waning gibbous with a sprinkle of stars dotting the night sky.

Something you rarely see in the city, you think to yourself.

Your head craned towards the infinite ceiling, you continue to admire the view, or at least try to do so—the act seemingly becoming more and more impossible by the second, what with your nerves shot and your stomach churning with anticipatory anxiety.

Bakugou must have noticed your wobbly breathing, because the man side-eyes you for a beat before finally speaking. “What are you, nervous?”

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the sight of your boss in a dark brown sweater with a white collar peeking out at the top in an effort to ground yourself, although you find you’re not feeling any calmer.

You hesitate for a moment, before heaving another jittery, somewhat resigned, sigh.

No point in hiding the truth now.

You shrug, “Yeah…”

“Don’t be,” he promptly replies, catching you off guard. His voice is serious and deceivingly firm when he finishes it off.

“They’re gonna like you.”

You don’t get the chance to think about how to respond, let alone react instinctively because the front door opens as if on cue, and out comes a relatively tall woman with ash blonde hair, followed by a slightly taller brown-haired man.

You’ve barely gotten a word in when you get scooped into the arms of the woman you now identify as Bakugou Mitsuki, and when she pulls away and keeps you at arm's length—beaming, no less, in what you hope is happiness—it takes everything in you not to gawk at how stunning the woman is.

“…You’re overwhelming her, honey,” you hear the man, who you assume is Bakugou Masaru, say worriedly at your right side.

“Oh, right,” Mitsuki hurriedly releases her hold of you and retracts her hands, flashing you a bright albeit apologetic smile right after. “Forgive me, it’s just that I never thought this day would come!”

At that, she shoots Bakugou, who’s standing beside your left, a pointed look before turning back to grin at you, “I can’t believe Katsuki has finally brought a girl home!”

You don’t have to look at the man beside you to know he’s sporting a scowl. “Watch it, old hag,” he growls.

“You watch it, child. Mind how you talk to your mother in front of your girl.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you as you watch the exchange, inadvertently catching the two blondes’ attention, their gazes drifting toward you at the sound. After a brief second, and to your relief, Mitsuki starts laughing along but Bakugou only looks away in what you think is irritation.

“Well, this girl is grateful for the invite, Mitsuki-san,” you start, mustering your most thankful smile. “But I hope I’m not imposing on your family…”

Mitsuki is quick to respond with a wave of a hand, “Not at all! You’re our guest of honor. Please, make yourself at home!”

Masaru nods in agreement, extending his right hand for you to shake, which you happily do. His smile is gentle—a stark contrast to Bakugou’s default expressions, you note—when he finally invites the both of you in. As you do—eager to escape the cold—you glance at Bakugou behind you, who’s apparently already been looking at you, although he averts his gaze when your eyes make contact.

Again with that solemn expression.

That unsettling expression drops down to the bottom of your list of priorities, however, when you enter the threshold of their home. You’re immediately hit with a glorious combination of fragrances emanating from what you think is the kitchen at the far side of the room.

“Everything smells great, Mitsuki-san,” you offer, hoping the sincerity can be heard from your tone.

You think it must have because the woman instantly lights up at the comment, “Why, thank you! Every day’s not Thanksgiving, after all.”

You nod, following them along into the living room, taking a seat on the corduroy couch opposite Mitsuki upon Masaru’s wordless invitation. “It’s so nice how you guys go all out to celebrate the holiday.”

You note how Bakugou, who’s planted on the armrest beside Mitsuki, frowns at the compliment.

“What?” you ask him before you can stop yourself, curious.

“They don’t really celebrate it,” he grunts, before tossing his mother a borderline disgusted look. “The old hag is just using it as an excuse to invite you over.”

That quip grants him a smack in the head from the said “hag”. Bakugou doesn’t yelp or cry in pain, although he does let out a slight hiss. You, again, can’t help the smile that creeps on your face as you watch them.

Mitsuki is facing Bakugou as she tuts in what you think is a warning, before turning to regard you again, a grin now having replaced the reprimanding expression that had just been on her face a second ago.

It grows even wider when she says: “What do you say we leave the rest of the cooking up to the boys and we go through Katsuki’s photo albums?”

“S-sure!” you quickly respond, the entirety of the suggestion not registering for a beat until it does, your head whipping to look at the man as you blurt out: “Bakugou, you can cook?”

At that, Mitsuki’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes darting between the both of you. “Wait, are you saying he’s never cooked for you before?” Mitsuki asks, incredulous.

She then turns to her son, who now has his arms crossed in front of his broad chest like a petulant child, “Young man, what have you been doing?”

“God, relax,” Bakugou groans as he stands up from where he was seated, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the kitchen. “We’ve just been busy with work. No time for that shit.”

“Busy with work, my ass,” she calls out to him, before once again turning to face you. “And honey, there’s no need to be all formal around us. Go ahead and call Katsuki by his first name—there’s really nothing to be shy about.”

Before you can think against it, your eyes widen in surprise for a fraction of a second before you school your face into what you think is an appropriate enough expression. “R-right, sorry.”

You chance a glance at the man, who’s now hacking away at the green onions like a madman albeit quite expertly, what you think is red creeping up his face in nothing else but scornful exasperation.

“So,” Mitsuki starts, and you turn back to see her wiggling her eyebrows at you, “about the photo albums?”

Just as Mitsuki suggested, you busied yourself with photo albums filled to the brim with close documentation of Bakugou growing up while the two men finished up in the kitchen. It didn’t come as a surprise that Bakugou was a cute kid, a signature boyish grin decorating his face in the few pictures where he isn’t scowling or glaring at the camera. You greedily took in the seemingly mundane details of Bakugou’s childhood as Mitsuki narrated the backstory of each photograph, smiling and even laughing along when she cracked a joke about how her son must have been born as the proverbial grump based on how early he learned how to glower.

Bakugou didn’t say anything the entire time you pore over the albums, probably used to his mom mouthing about her only child to friends and family who are willing to listen. Before you know it, dinner is eventually served, and the dishes that Bakugou and Masaru would bring from the island countertops to their hardwood dining table looked nothing short of scrumptious. It didn’t take long for you to conclude that they tasted exactly how they looked.

“Everything tastes incredible, but the miso ramen is glorious, Mitsuki-san,” you piped up in the middle of dinner.

The woman only tossed you a pleased, somewhat knowing look. “You’ve got your boyfriend to thank for that, dear.”

You must have looked like a deer in the headlights, because the man of the hour’s parents laugh at your expression. You stole a glance at Bakugou, who only slurped at his bowl in silence, face schooled into a rather neutral countenance.

A steady conversation gradually enveloped the four of you as you went ham on dinner, and you now find your shoulders relaxing, the tension from earlier leaving your body. You discuss current events, which then leads to Masaru asking Bakugou about how the agency is fairing in light of the recent spikes in crimes. The topic then drifts to you, like what’s your family like and what your parents do for a living; it shifts afterward to how work is going for them in the fashion industry, to the couple's retirement plans, with Mitsuki waxing poetic about how they really need to be there for each other when they do retire because Bakugou doesn’t visit them enough. To that, the man only scowls, mumbling something about how he does, in fact, visit them enough, and that the “old hag’s” definition of enough is stupidly skewed.

“But enough about us!” Mitsuki completely disregards Bakugou’s retort, shifting in her seat to address you, “I’ve actually been dying to ask you this question since you arrived. I know our Katsuki isn’t the easiest—”

“Hah?”

“—guy to be around, and so I’m really glad he was able to find someone as lovely as you. So,” Mitsuki tosses you a playful look, “what do you like about Katsuki?”

You barely stop yourself from choking on the maki roll lodged in your throat, quickly swallowing it rather painfully as you scramble for the proper way to react and respond. From the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou shift uncomfortably in his seat, but he doesn’t say anything to shut down his mother or even shift the topic of the conversation.

“Uh—” you start lamely, “What do I like about… him?”

At that, Mitsuki laughs good-naturedly. “Surely there has to be something, right? Please, indulge this old lady!”

You chuckle along with her, albeit rather awkwardly, before clearing your throat.

The only way to make it out of this conversation alive and relatively unscathed is by lacing your answers with the truth.

And so you do.

“Ba—” you start, catching yourself in the nick of time, “K-Katsuki—” you pause again, hating the way you uttered his name so tentatively like it’s something obviously foreign, “—is the most dedicated person I know.”

Mitsuki only nods in encouragement, as if urging you to go on.

And right now, you find that you’re nothing if not a people-pleaser.

“He’s admirable—there’s a reason why he’s risen to the top this quickly and stayed there,” you nod, pleased at what you think is certainty bleeding into your tone. “I don’t have any problems at all leading the HR department, what with him being the best example of what an outstanding work ethic looks like.”

The room falls into a lull, and as the seconds tick by with no one saying anything, you’re starting to think you said the wrong thing when Mitsuki finally speaks up.

“That—that’s great to hear, dear, really.” She seems to hesitate for a moment before holding your gaze again, and you brace yourself for what she’s about to say next.

“…But what about outside of work?”

There it is.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Uh—” you parrot again, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering when you can just keep your mouth shut while you think of an acceptable reply like a normal, sane person.

You glance at Bakugou, who’s now looking at you in what you think is anticipation.

Despite yourself, you feel yourself flush.

Yet you’re unable to break away from his gaze when the words finally come to you.

“…He cares,” you manage to miraculously get out while Bakugou’s crimson eyes bore a hole into you. “…Deeply. And, he makes sure it shows in his actions.”

You watch as Bakugou studies you for a few more seconds as if he’s searching for something—you don’t know what—hidden amidst your features, eventually averting his gaze back to his plate.

You follow suit, looking down at your half-finished ebi tempura, suddenly feeling too self-conscious and oddly vulnerable.

It’s Mitsuki’s soft voice that causes you to look up again.

“That’s… everything I wanted to hear,” Mitsuki almost whispers, and you think if you squint hard enough you can see tears pooling in her eyes.

You shoot her a tight-lipped smile, sensing an unusual sense of uneasiness blooming in your gut.

Thankfully, and to your relief, Mitsuki doesn’t ask any more equally humiliating questions after that, the conversation having been steered to more shallow and light-hearted topics, primarily by Masaru. Without you noticing, dinner time reaches its conclusion and it’s now time to clean up.

You stand up from your chair and start gathering leftovers to stack the plates right after when Mitsuki reaches across the table and pries them off your grip. You look at her in confusion, but she only shakes her head.

“We’ll handle the cleaning, dear.”

Behind her, Masaru nods in agreement, and you’re about to open your mouth to protest but Bakugou beats you to it.

“No use arguing with the old hag. Just give it up.”

At that, you sag in disappointment—you really wanted to pay them back, even if it’s just through helping out with cleaning—but obey nevertheless, putting down the cutlery you were just about to gather into a bunch.

Now with nothing to do with your hands, you stand at the edge of the table awkwardly, watching the couple swiftly clearing out the area. Masaru seems to notice your discomfort because he speaks up.

“Hey, Katsuki,” he starts, “why don’t you show her around your bedroom?”

Almost immediately, Mitsuki beams at her husband, evidently enthralled by the proposition. You fight the strong urge to furrow your eyebrows in worry. “That’s a good idea, honey. I bet she’d love to see your childhood knickknacks, Katsuki!”

You steal a glimpse of Bakugou—or his back, really—who’s now seated on the couch with a leg propped on it.

He’s not saying anything.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

You gulp despite yourself, shifting to face Mitsuki with a grimace-smile. “It’s okay, I don’t want to make him uncomfo—”

“Come on.”

You almost get whiplash from how fast you turn to look at Bakugou, who apparently isn’t giving you a chance to argue, already walking up the stairs to the second floor. You look back at his parents, who only gesture you to go on.

Well.

You guess you’re going, then.

You trail behind Bakugou in silence, your footsteps echoing through the stairway as you go up, one step at a time. Once you land on top of the staircase, you follow him as he turns to the right, down to the door at the end of the hallway, which you now identify as his bedroom.

He pauses a few feet away from the entryway, reaching forward for the knob and turning to face you right after, an indiscernible expression etched on his face.

“Don’t fuckin’—nose around,” he grumbles, voice gruff, “or some shit.” Despite his half-hearted warning, he opens the door, leaning back against it so you can squeeze in and enter.

Typical of the King of Consistency, Bakugou’s childhood bedroom is as impeccable as every other personal space of his that you’ve got the honor of visiting. The gray walls are pristine and are only disrupted by posters of pro-heroes, mostly of All Might, but also like that of Best Jeanist and Endeavor. Piles and piles of books line the shelves at the room's corners, speckled and lightly decorated with figurines and what you think are older gaming consoles. You study the rest of the arrangements, and before you can think against it, you find yourself smiling as you survey the room, feeling a paradoxical sense of comfort blanket you.

“…What’re you fucking smiling about, dumbass?”

At the call out, the expression on your face immediately falls. You glance back at the man who’s now leaning against the doorframe, arms once again crossed in front of his chest.

“N-nothing,” you immediately retort. “It’s just that your room is so clean and well-kept.” You pause, hesitating to say the next thing, but ultimately decide to go for it. “It’s very… you.”

You don’t know what you expected him to say or do in response—an eye roll, or a lazy scoff, or a challenge, daring you to expound on what the fuck you mean “it’s very him”, maybe?

But again, Bakugou doesn’t say anything; he simply grunts.

Against your will, you feel a wave of disappointment course through you.

“…Your parents seem like such great people,” you muse, finding yourself wanting to salvage the conversation as you continue to take in the endearing details of your boss’s childhood bedroom.

Bakugou grunts again, only this time you think it’s in agreement. “They’re alright,” he grinds out, “can get a bit overbearing at times, though.”

You hum in reply, sensing a seed of happiness blossoming within you at the thought of him opening up. “I get that. But I can clearly see they love you very much.”

The man hums back, sounding deep in thought.

Your fingers absentmindedly trail the backrest of his desk chair. “Your mom said you don’t really visit as much. Is that true or was she just pulling your leg?”

At that, Bakugou heaves such a heavy sigh, that it catches your full attention. “I haven’t been here since around early this year.”

You gawk, “Seriously?”

He shoots you a glare, although there’s not much bite to it. “Don’t look at me like that. You know how it is at work.”

You nod, “…You do put in an alarming number of hours.”

“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, do I?” he immediately retorts, although the question seems more rhetorical.

Despite that, you steel yourself to answer back this time. “I think you actually do. I know of so many heroes who treat their jobs like the typical 9 to 5. Believe me, I hear things at work, too.”

“…What are you trying to say?”

His voice is so uncharacteristically small, it catches you off guard.

In return, you try to make your voice as gentle as possible. “I’m saying I meant what I said earlier during dinner. It’s admirable—the work that you do. I think that’s what really sets you apart from all the others, putting aside your flashy ass quirk.”

You take a gamble and toss a smirk Bakugou’s way.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the man was at a loss for words.

Well, there is a first for everything.

Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed over the bold move you just pulled, you take advantage of the silence, walking a few steps towards the other wall. You carefully brush your hand against what looks like a vintage-looking All Might poster above the headboard of his bed.

“I didn’t know you liked All Might this much.”

His reply is almost instantaneous: “He’s only the best hero to exist ever.”

You, again, fail to restrain the smile that breaches your face. It’s adorable how defensive he’s become in a split second, having transformed into the diehard fanboy that he apparently is.

“Is he the kind of hero you aspire to eventually become?” you ask, curiosity bubbling in your head.

He shifts on his feet, taking a few steps in your direction. “Yeah,” he pauses, before continuing, “the kind that always wins.”

“Oh, now I know where that line from before came from.”

As if immediately knowing what you're talking about, Bakugou flushes in what you think is anger, but the more you stare at him, it becomes clearer that it’s more akin to embarrassment.

“Shut up.”

You snort, “So the philosophy you gleaned from All Might—that applies to all aspects of your life? Including being your underling’s fake trophy boyfriend?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from you as you watch Bakugou stew in what you think is shame, squirming from where he’s standing as if he’s itching to jump and strangle your frame. The man, once again, glares at you, but if anything, you can tell he’s more frustrated with himself than with you.

Still, you find yourself feeling bad. “Sorry,” you start, fighting the urge to chuckle, “I was just kidding.”

“You’re a fucking handful, you know that?”

At that, you pout, the words tumbling off your mouth before you can rein them in. “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t—” Bakugo splutters, “fucking—stop calling me sir, dumbass. And,” he frowns, “stop calling yourself as my underling. That shit sounds fucking demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, flashing him a grateful smile. He doesn’t return it, opting to roll his eyes and look away instead, but the corners of his lips are twitching like he’s fighting them from curling upwards.

An abrupt thought crosses your mind at that very sight of him.

And before you can talk yourself out of it, you blurt it out.

“I’m glad.”

Bakugou meets your gaze, an eyebrow raised in question. “You’re glad what?”

You shrug, fighting down the self-consciousness. “I’m glad to see you seem more relaxed and comfortable. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’ve noticed you’ve been extra scowly lately—if that is even a word.”

“I have not.”

“Yes, you have. The other workers at the agency have noticed, too.”

“Who the fu—”

“I’m not dropping any names,” you interject, “but some have approached me asking if we were, you know, okay?”

You peer at the man, who’s now refusing to look at you. You brace yourself for what you’re about to ask. “Are we? Okay?”

Bakugou, again, conveniently decides to be mute.

“Did I do something wrong to slight you, or something? Or have I crossed a line during that get-together with your friends that one time? Because if I have, I want you to know that I really didn’t mean t—”

“I thought you didn’t want to come over,” he cuts you off.

You freeze. “What?”

He finally meets your gaze, a frown now seemingly permanently etched on his face. “Here. To my parents’. And you’ve been acting all weird around me, stuttering and stuff.”

Shit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bakugou huffs, “Am I making you uncomfortable, or some shit?”

You can only gape at the man who looks so pained, as if this conversation is physically hurting him, which, it probably is, knowing him. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

He seems to notice this, because his frown grows even deeper. “What, am I?”

“No!” you exclaim, thankful to finally have your voice back. You vigorously shake your head, “No, please don’t think that. I—just—I just have a lot on my mind lately, that’s why. Explains why I’m all jumpy and stammering and all over the place.”

To your relief, Bakugou doesn’t prod any further, although you can sense a bit of suspicion emanating from the man despite your answer. He stares at you for another beat before shaking his head in resignation, opting to check his watch instead.

“It’s getting late. Let’s go downstairs and tell them we’re leaving.”

And just like that, Bakugou turns his back towards you and exits the bedroom.

Right after you followed Bakugou down to the living room where Mitsuki and Masaru were enjoying a glass of red wine, you informed the couple that you were leaving. The brunette immediately got to work, packing viands into Tupperware for you to take home despite your silent protests. Mitsuki, on the other hand, tried to convince you to stay for another hour or so, but Bakugou wasn’t hearing any of it. After finally accepting that she was getting nowhere with her case, Mitsuki called on her husband to see you out by the front porch.

With a bag of aromatic dishes in one hand, you stand in front of their doorway, not knowing what to say for the nth time in one night. You chance a glance towards Bakugou’s direction, the man having entered his car already, starting up the engine in preparation for the drive back home.

But you apparently don’t have to say anything because it’s Mitsuki who fills the air.

Her smile is so gentle and motherly that you can’t help the painful throb your heart makes at the sight. It’s quickly followed by the now-familiar feeling of uneasiness that has been revisiting you again and again since the evening started.

Still, you manage to smile back. At the sight of it, Mitsuki’s expression grows even brighter.

And her voice is low when she finally speaks.

“Don’t tell Katsuki this, but I’m glad you’re the one he’s decided to finally come meet us.” She reaches out to rub your shoulder, her smile not faltering, “I can see why.”

Thankfully, Mitsuki scoops you into another hug, sparing you the embarrassment and burden of having to react and respond with some intelligible reply to such a groundbreaking statement one can receive from any guy’s mother, no less.

At the couple’s request, you promise to visit again soon, and before you get to break character and admit to your mountain of lies in a crying heap, you beeline to the car and hop into the passenger seat.

Voice gruff, Bakugou nods at you. “Ready?”

You swallow thickly.

“Ready.”

The car ride home was silent. It felt long—longer than an hour, at least, your brain buzzing with unpleasant thoughts and stomach churning with anxious feelings the entire duration of it. You couldn’t seem to fall asleep no matter how much you tried. Eventually, you gave up trying to mid-way, opting to stew in whatever the fuck is going on with you instead.

You were so engrossed in your brooding that you didn’t notice Bakugou pulling into your apartment complex’s driveaway.

At the sound of his voice announcing your arrival, you sit up in your seat in alarm before promptly gathering your things, saying your usual quick goodbye and thank you, and stepping out of the car.

To your surprise, however, he puts the car in park and follows suit, stepping out of the vehicle himself.

You hesitate for a moment before starting the short trek toward the entrance, acutely aware of Bakugou trailing behind you.

When you get to the entryway, you finally turn to regard the man, whose eyes dart down to look directly at you, hands in his pockets.

In spite of yourself, you gulp. “Thank you… for today, Bakugou.”

He merely shakes his head, expression neutral. “I should be the one thanking you. You didn’t have to come with and suffer through all that with me, yet you did.”

“I didn’t suffer,” you’re quick to correct him because you didn’t. “I actually had a really nice time. Your parents were so kind to me, and I just—I…”

“What?”

You shake your head, unsure how to accurately phrase what you’re feeling. “I just feel bad, you know? You could be bringing home a girl that you actually like to meet your parents who they can fawn over instead of me, yet here you are presenting a decoy and fooling the people who raised you all because I—”

“Hey—”

“I roped you into pretending to be my boyfriend and now look at the mess we’ve made. And I know—”

“Stop it.”

His voice comes out so commanding that there’s nothing you can do but obey.

Bakugou frowns. “You didn’t ‘rope’ me into doing this, okay? I— We—” he hesitates, mouth opening and closing then opening and closing again before he finally just shakes his head in defeat. “I entered this arrangement willingly. You don’t have to blame yourself for anything.”

“But—”

“End of discussion.”

At that, you huff in irritation, but you know better than to argue with your notoriously stubborn boss. Nevertheless, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel the gratitude that blooms in your chest at Bakugou’s reassurance.

“Now get in there,” he gestures to the apartment, “It’s getting way too fucking cold.”

As if on cue, you involuntarily shudder, which grants you a wordless ‘See?’ from the man. With a final nod, you reluctantly follow his orders and enter through the doorway, although you don’t immediately go to the elevator hall. Instead, you stand by the windows, finding yourself wanting to make sure Bakugou doesn’t get jumped on his way back to the car.

And as you watch Bakugou’s receding backside, the guilt that you’ve been tirelessly suppressing the entire night finally breaks free, threatening to swallow you whole.

This can’t go on.

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19 @471323 @bakugosgothhoe

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[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 6 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : 5.5k words

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

"Photos have been released, of the two of you," you shared a look with Katsuki from across the table, "Together. At the camping resort you went to this previous weekend."

Katsuki's PR manager was in front of you. Arms placed on the table as she clasped her hands together. Face stern and hair slicked back into a ponytail. The definition of professional. The opposite of what you looked and felt right now. You've been sweating your ass off since you got told to come in.

"Are you sure they know it was us?" Katsuki fixed his posture, sitting up straight for the answer to his question. The two of you haven't necessarily came forward with your relationship, but you haven't been hiding it. Still, you preferred to not be public. Mainly to protect your work, everyone would discredit you if they knew you had personal ties to the number two pro hero that led beyond friendship. But also because you knew the danger, you were targeted enough as his best friend.

"Yes," she said bluntly.

"Maybe they didn't see me?" you voiced your hope aloud.

"Look, they know it was the both of you," she sighed, "We need to focus on how to fix this. It needs to be address before it gets worse, and it will get worse, so I suggest acting now."

"Can I see the fucking pictures?" Katsuki ordered, sick and tired of not knowing entirely what's going on.

She clicked away at her keyboard, turning her laptop to face you two. "This was posted by a couple that were there," she showed the photo Katsuki took with the couple that almost caught you at the pond. "And this," she clicked to a photo that showed the lake, "was posted as well. You can clearly see Chargebolt, Red Riot, and Cellophane. And in the background it is also easy to see the two of you being," she coughed, "intimate. They've been able to connect the dots that it was you that he was kissing," she looked at you, "With your connection with their class."

Your stomach dropped. Words just fell from your brain. You were used to the press but not for these reasons. Mainly just for your work, or how you made all number one, two and three top heros support gear and costumes.

"So what the fuck should we do?" Katsuki crossed his arms, face scrunched in thought.

"We need you to make a statement," she paused, prepared for Katsuki to snap. He hated making statements. When all he did was nod, she continued, "We need to do this quick before rumors catch wind." Both you and her were glad that he wasn't being difficult about this.

"What rumors can even be made?" you were curious how bad the drawback could be, trying to see if you could lessen the stress for you and Katsuki.

She looked at you, an apology on her face already, "It is already being said that you are using him to get to Deku, wanting to get the best pro heroes under you." You physically winced. "It is also being said you are cheating on Deku with Dynamight."

Katsuki scoffed, rooling his his eyes as he threw his hands up, "So what the fuck do I say? This is bullshit."

"I've arranged a interview for tonight, they'll ask about it there and you will give as much truth as you want. Talk about how long you've dated and the bond you two have, you need a united front," She explained, "Deku needs to also make a statement that you have not had any romantic relations," she turned to you.

"Of course, I'll call him now," you stood up from your chair, grabbing your phone. Knowing that he was terrible with emails and likely wouldn't notice anything happened until it was too late for the press. Too focus on crime and other heroic things.

"Good, tell him to do it as soon as possible," she instructed.

You squeezed Katsuki's shoulder on your way out, leaving him to discuss about what to talk about in the interview.

Dialing Izuku's number the second you closed the door, walking towards the stairway so you could walk off the stress as you made your way to Katsuki's office, the next floor up.

He answered when you opened the door to the stairway, "Whatssup?"

"I need a favor," you immediately started with.

"What's wrong," he asked concerned. You could hear the wind blowing through his phone, he was likely jumping his way back his office.

"Could you do an interview tonight or something?" you walked up the stairs while talking to him, letting your body move on autopilot and lead the way to Katsuki's office.

"For what?"

"Katsuki's and my relationship got leaked, picture proof and everything," you confessed, "Now there's rumors that I'm cheating on you or some shit." You ran the hand that wasn't holding the phone through your hair. Before dropping it to open the stairway door, keeping your head down as you walked through the office.

"So I need to clear the air?" he concluded, you could hear him land on a building, taking a break from jumping.

"Yes, please," you sighed, "Just talk about how we're best friends. I don't think you have to do an interview, I think a social post might help, ask your manager."

"Of course, I'm happy to help," he smiled, "How are you and Kacchan doing?"

"I'm a little rattled, I didn't think this would happen," you opened the door to Katsuki's office, briefly waving to his manager. "I don't know how Katsuki is doing, he's still with his PR manager."

Izuku laughed nervously, "He's going to kill me."

"It's not your fault," you reassured, "he knows how crazy the internet is." You stood in front of the window, it was a floor to ceiling window that captured the view of the city perfectly. "Uraraka won't be mad right?" you asked, you've never been close to her but you knew her and Z were together.

"No, she'll understand," Izuku confirmed.

"Good, I would of felt horrible," the weight on your shoulders was slowly lifting.

"Well, I should talk to my manager about what to do," Izuku said his goodbyes before he hung up.

It was only Tuesday and your week was already shit. Barely got through lunch before his manager told you to meet with PR. The city was still buzzing with life, unbothered by how much yours was changing. It felt weird, to know each of the small humans from this distant, had their own life and motivation.

"Hey."

You jumped from your spot near the window, "Asshat," you said clutching your heart.

"How are you doing?" Katsuki stepped into the office, letting the door fall shut as he walked to stand beside you.

"I've been better, you?" you looked at him, his face was still scrunched with thought.

"I'm annoyed," he said plainly, "The one fucking time we kiss in public and it's everywhere."

He crossed his arms, his elbow slightly bumping you from where he stood. You hummed your agreement, "When's your interview?" The both of you were looking out the window, trying to puzzle together how to avoid the drawback.

"Right after work, with fucking Heroes' Gossip," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, knowing how much he hated every part of this.

"Was gonna happen eventually," he sighed, "Is that nerd gonna help?"

You nodded, "Yeah, he might make a social media post or something, I told him to listen to his manager."

"Good," he said plainly, letting the conversation end.

Everything was going to change now, it'd be impossible to go back to normal now. With the grief of your old life already setting in, you rested your head on his shoulder. He'd be the one stable thing, even if it got rocky.

---

You had the interview pulled up on the TV, waiting for Heroes' Gossip to introduce him. They've been teasing a surprise guest the entire show, waiting until the last few minutes to bring him on. You've been dealing with the show for the past 40 minutes with no sign of him. It was nice to watch for once though, but it felt like you were intruding on some of the topics. They brought up Mirko's lovers and then talked about spotting Best Jeanist in and out of the hospital, automatically assuming he had a horrible disease. It made you feel gross to watch.

Wondering into the kitchen you grabbed a glass of wine, wanting something to help make the show a little less painful.

When you sat back down they finally announced for Katsuki to come on. Having him grumpily stomp on set until he sat down near the obnoxious interviewer.

"So, Dynamight," she addressed him head on, "There's been some photo's leaked of you and the tech genius," she announced your name to the world. You took a long sip, trying to shake the unease feeling for being known as someone who was with Dynamight rather than a tech genius. The interviewer displayed the pictures his PR manager showed you earlier on screen, "Is this you and her?"

"Yeah," he answered flatly.

"So you and her were making out at this lake, correct?" She pushed, surprised she got this far already.

"Yeah, what about it?" you could see that he was close to snapping, face furrowed entirely as his arms were crossed.

"Despite the claims of her and pro hero Deku being together?" the interviewer smiled, glad to see she was riling him up.

He rolled her eyes, "As if she'd date him."

"Is she not?"

"No, I've been dating her for three god damn years," he confessed to the public.

The interviewer blinked in surprise, quickly getting back onto the questions, "You're not concerned they are seeing each other behind your back?"

"I've known them both since I was five, they aren't like that," he answered simply.

"That also means that they have known each other that long, you're not worried about their connection?" she pushed for more, irritated that Katsuki wasn't lashing out like normal.

"Lemme prove it to you dumbasses," you cringed at his swearing, it wasn't good press for him to swear during interviews. He was grabbing his phone out of his pocket, quickly pressing buttons before he put the phone on speaker, letting everyone listen to it ring.

"Hey," Izuku's bubbly voice echoed through the mic.

"Are you fucking with my girlfriend?" Katsuki was straight to the point, likely not having warned Izuku of his plan before hand.

"No! Why would i do that?! You know that it is just the press going on right? Anything for a story-" before he could ramble on anymore, Katsuki hung up on him.

"See?"

"Well that doesn't prove much," the interviewer was at a lost for words at this point.

Knowing that Katsuki had a handle on this, you walked back to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. All the premade dinners were eaten already so you'd have to cook something from scratch. The voices from the TV faded from your mind as your rattled through the ingredients to use. Deciding on a fried rice. You pulled out the vegetables and placed them to the side as you set the rice to cook.

Your phone buzz and you answered without a thought, "Sup?"

"You fucking Deku?" you laughed at Katsuki's angry voice coming through your speaker. "Stop laughing dumbass."

"Sorry, I just saw you call him for the same thing. No, I am not. I'll say that on a truth quirk as well," you said absentmindedly cutting up the vegetables.

"Great! We'll have you come in soon to do just that," you heard the interviewer cheer though Katsuki's side of the phone.

Katsuki grumbled, "I'm fucking out of here." You could only assume he left the set, hearing him stomp off. "Hey dumbass," his voice was near the mic, clear he turned the call off speaker as his voice was quieter and less aggressive.

"Yeah?"

"That was stupid, my PR agent is going to scream at you."

"Why?"

"Going under a truth quirk on TV is dangerous, you know so much confidental shit," he explained.

"Oh fuck," you realized how much you could spill if someone asked about too much. You felt as if the genius quirk you had wasn't much help.

"I'll be home soon," he skipped past it, saving the conversation for when he could see you.

"Okay," you nodded despite him not being able to see you, "I'm making some fried rice by the way."

"Thanks, see ya."

"Bye."

You put your phone back down, grabbing the now cooked rice and mixing it with the vegetables in a pan. You looked over the mess of the kitchen. You dirtied an extra pan for eggs last second, knowing Katsuki loved the extra protein. Walking back to the living room, you grabbed the wine glass and filed it some more in the kitchen to drink as you mixed the rice.

The rice was getting to a good mixture, just needing to heat for a little longer, you grabbed the eggs and dumped them in with the rest of the rice and vegetable, setting the pan aside on the stove.

You heard the door knob slightly move, as if Katsuki was having issues with the key. You glanced at the time, he wouldn't be over for another ten or so minutes. Fear gripped at your chest. You moved the finished pan of rice to the corner of the stove, putting the empty pan on the heat.

Before you could think of anything else to do, you heard metal fall to the ground. Turning around quickly you saw the doorknob melting off with the remains of it on the floor.

Looking towards the figure in the doorway you saw a girl, around your age. Maybe a couple years older. She looked insane, it sent a chill up your spine at how similar her glare was to Toga's. Her eyes were a bright red, her hair a darker shade as she wore torn up clothes, burn holes all throughout. As if she just got out of a fight.

"The fuck are you doing?" you forced yourself to question.

"So you're the bitch Katsuki is dating?" she ignored your question.

"How did you get up here?" you knew that the apartment probably wasn't the most secure, but you and Katsuki never had time to move. Still, security was set in place. Blood dotted her outfit as well, the smell of burnt flesh radiating off her.

She ignored you again, stepping closer. "You know, Katsuki's going to love me right? Once your out of the picture."

You couldn't help the slight laugh that slipped from your lips. Maybe Katsuki's cocky energy affected you more than you thought.

Her eyes glowed, "That funny to you?"

She was about arms length away at this point, you reached your arm slowly behind you, grabbing onto the handle of the pan. "Kinda," you shrugged.

"Such a cunt," the girl all but screeched, eyes glowing red. From the damage on the doorknob it was clear she had some sort of heat vision. Before she could burn hole through you, you picked up the pan and swung at her. Burning the side of her face and causing her to stumble. Keeping yourself aware of her eyes, you reeled the pan back and hit her straight on, letting the edge of the pan fall into her eyes.

She quickly started to grab at you, cornering you into the stove, blinded by your hits but still intent on hurting you. Digging her nails into your arm. Scratching as she managed to grab ahold of your hand during her flailing around, forcing it down onto the hot stove and burning you.

Filled with a new rush of adrenalin, you grabbed onto her hair with your free hand, yanking her off your hand and pushing her face into the stove. You felt horrible as she screamed, your and her burnt flesh tainting the air with a foul smell. Ruining the stove top in the process. You scrambled away from her after holding her down for a moment, grabbing the knife you used the the vegetables only 20 minutes ago. Almost slipping due to the wine that was spilt from her flailing around the stove.

You stole a glance at the clock, still five more minutes till Katsuki was home. All you had to do was not die in those five minutes.

The girl was standing back up when you looked back at her. Face half burnt as she held a crazed look in her eyes.

"That knife won't do anything," she pushed, "I've done my research, you hardly have a quirk. Another reason you aren't worthy of him."

You weren't interested in talking to her, you just waiting for her next move. "You know, we could end this here. Just stop fighting and Katsuki will talk to you," you suggested, throwing the offer out to distract her.

"With you in the picture, he won't talk to me," she said frustratedly. Her eyes lighting up again, having recovered from the hit to them.

She aimed for your stomach, you move to the side and crouched, kicking at her locked knees, cringing at the snap of it. The hit on your stomach burned through a lot, the pain causing you to hold a hand on yourself. While you were trained to survive, you couldn't handle it. The blood, the pain, the guilt that already worked its way into your bones. She fell down with a yelp. Pulling you with her, before she could get her other hand on you, you stabbed one hand through a cabinet. You stood up as straight as possible, pressing your slipper covered foot onto her head, forcing her to face the cabinet and away from you. Placing your other foot onto her free hand so she couldn't grab at you.

You wheezed, clutching both hands at your side now, pain getting to you. The girl was crying now, "My face! He won't love me if I look deformed." Her heat vision flickered on and off, burning a hole through the bottom cabinet. Slowly destroying your home with Katsuki.

"Shut up," you hissed, stepping on her hand harder.

The injury was getting to you, it was mostly cauterized but her heat vision burned a good depth into your side.

Katsuki kicked the door fully open, snapping his head to look at you. You most of looked crazy. Wearing his shirt from high school, barely visible shorts, fuzzy Deku themed slippers and standing above a very injured girl while bleeding from the wound of your side.

He stepped towards you, lifting you off the girl and making you sit on the floor next to the door. "Cops were already called by the way," he answered your question before you thought of it. "They'll be up here soon." He walked back to the girl who was panting now, going into shock from the pain, something you think you shared with her. He cuffed her quickly, making her quirk shut off. You couldn't be more thankful that he wore his hero outfit home.

With the girl contained, he walked back to you, "Is it just your side?"

You nodded your head aggressively, in too much pain to form words. He lifted the side of your shirt, wincing before putting it back down. Moving to pick you up and carry you.

"I need to get you to the hospital," he claim.

"What about that girl?" you forced out, sucking in a deep breath after. Eyes getting fuzzy as you looked at him.

"She tired herself out," he confirmed, the girl passed out and you felt like doing the same. Eyes blinking without any of your control.

"Kats?"

"What?"

"It hurts," you were only speaking to stay awake, not wanting to scare him anymore then you knew he was.

"You'll be okay, I promise," his voice waivered as he moved through the hallways, you didn't even know where you were at this point. The background slowly turning into black until you blinked the rest of the image away.

---

Everything was too bright, too loud, too stale when you woke up. You couldn't even open your eyes but you were overwhelmed. You're mouth lacked any taste besides meticalic. Muffled voices came from somewhere in front of you, a room away likely. You braced yourself heavily before opening your eyes. Seeing Katsuki in a chair pulled up to your bedside, book in his left hand as his right hand held onto yours. Flipping a page by placing the book into his lap and using his left to flip it. Never once letting go.

The light blurred everything but him, you could only put together the fact that you were in the hospital. He was wearing his glasses, the ones he hardly wore unless he was stress. It was always harder for him to read when stressed, to lessen the strain, he wore the glasses.

"Bright," is what you decided to croak out, voice rough from sleep and likely screaming from the events. Everything was blurred already.

His basically jumped out of skin at the sound of your voice, letting the book fall from his lap as he stood up straight. Looking over you.

"Lights off," is what you groaned next, unable to keep your eyes open in the blare of it for long.

"Fuck sorry," he rushed to turn the light off before returning to your side. "How are you?"

You only looked around now, happy to be without the strain of the light. Your right hand was covered in bandages, from where the girl slammed it against the stove. With how bad it hurt, you worried for her face. Your left side was also heavily wrapped. She burned entirely through you, you remember how burned your walls were before you passed out. Multiple cabinets having holes in them. "Our home is all messed up," you focused on.

Katsuki let out a laugh, it was his laugh that showed you were being ridiculous, when you looked back up at him with a frown he returned it, "You can't be serious?"

"I am," you pouted, looking down at your hands, "She fucked it all up."

"Yeah and you put a dent in her for it," he followed.

"She put a dent in me too," you changed you focus to your stomach. Acknowledging the hole in your side

He gripped tighter onto the railing at the top of your hospital bed. "I had our stuff moved out," he spoke, saying he won't let that happened again without any words.

"Where will we live?" you looked back up at him.

"I bought it on a whim, the first day you were out," he looked apologetic, "I think you'll like it. Safer than that shithole."

You grabbed onto his hand, "Okay, anywhere is home with you."

"The drugs makin' ya loopy?" he smirk down at you, pointing fun at your cheesy line but holding onto your hand nonetheless, gripping on tighter.

"Maybe," you blushed, looking away for moment to think over the feeling. Drugs were definitely dampening the pain right now.

"How are you though? Took quite a hit," he looked at your stomach as well. It reminded you on how he first saw it, likely seeing straight through you. It's probably why he rushed you to the hospital right after.

"Hurts," you mumbled, not looking down but staring at him instead. Wanting your focus off the pain. Looking over how soft the glasses made him look. It was something you always wanted to admire but rarely got to. His face looked softer in the barely light room, just having the glow of the hallway lights shine in.

"Figures, you put up a fight."

"I almost died," you clarified.

"But you didn't," he was trying to focus on the positives, for both you and himself.

You recalled him saying the first day you were out earlier, "How long was I out?"

"Four days," he answered, "Not too long, you were just tired."

You hummed, "When can we go home?"

"I'd have to call the doctor in."

You nodded in permission for him to do so, letting him go alert them. With the quality of the room, you figured that he had you in a hero hospital.

The doctor walked in and asked you to stay an extra day, claiming a healing quirk will be able to help you before you left tomorrow. You reluctantly agreed, mainly from Katsuki cutting in and agreeing for you. It was obvious he felt guilt. From the way he held himself and the way he spoke.

When the doctor left, the two of you sat in silence. Soaking in each others presences.

"Is she okay?" you asked.

"Who?"

"Crazy bitch," you labeled her as.

He looked at you confused, "Yeah, in jail."

"So I didn't hurt her badly?" you were trying to relive some of the guilt.

"No, you did. Put a hole into her hand and burned her face," he confirmed, "Something you did to protect yourself."

"Then why do I feel bad?"

He sighed, grabbing at your hand again and looking you in your eyes, "Cause you always do, you'll probably feel guilty for a while. But trust me, you gave that bitch what she deserved and I'm so fuckin' glad you did."

"How's the press?" you switched topics. Not even remotely proud of yourself for burning a girl's face.

"Everything's settled, police still need your report though," he told you softly.

"Okay," you took in a deep breath, flinching at the pain going up your side. Ignoring Katsuki eyes looking at you in worry. Trying to patch your guilt away.

---

You peered through the apartment door after Katsuki unlocked it and walked through. Taking in the view of the apartment, a clear upgrade from the last. After kicking off your shoes you noticed the empty space to the right, a perfect spot for a living room. Windows from floor to ceiling and a sliding door to excess the balcony, with just enough space for a long wrap around couch to loop around. Snug in its own cube. The left side was a nicely sized kitchen with a dining table near the middle.

The security on the way up was worth the apartment, it was beautiful. It was a good sized apartment overall, perfect for you. There's a total of three bedrooms and three baths. You wondered for a moment about where Katsuki would choose his bedroom. Shoto also lived in this apartment complex, so you knew it was safe. The thought of Shoto's scar hurt your soul, he hated that scare and you gave a random girl the same if not worse.

"We need to buy new furniture for the living room," Katsuki cut into your thoughts.

"Why?" you turned to him confused, you didn't have a wrap around couch but he didn't know your ideas.

He coughed, knowing you hated the topic already, " Other one is burnt."

"Oh," you said sadly.

"I also can't get shit here until Tuesday. Takes a week for em," he barreled through the bad news, "You can look up a couch and I'll buy it."

"I already know the one I want," you looked back at the space, "I saw it Monday online, we can go check the stores to see if it's in stock? If not we can look."

"I don't think you should be doing all that walkin'," he furrowed his face in distaste.

"Too bad," you pushed past your injury, walking back outside the apartment after slipping your shoes on, "We have nowhere to sleep, we can get a couch and have a movie night. Wait, do we need a new TV?"

"Yeah, other one was shit anyway," he put his shoes on and followed you out reluctantly.

---

You pushed past all press, keeping your head down as you walked in front of Katsuki, his arms around you to keep from touching you. It was horrible, worse than it ever was. After your police statement was in, the press went crazy. Needing every detail possible. The entire furniture store had to shut down while you shopped, it made you thankful for Katsuki's job for once. He saved the owners before so they easily shut down for him. Finding your perfect couch was easy enough, wasn't the exact one you saw online but it was even better. While you found the couch, Katsuki got the TV, both set to be delivered to your apartment during the next three hours.

So you and Katsuki got lunch and stopped by his agency in the mean time, him needing to grab some paper work to go over the next few days. Kirishima's bright smile welcoming you the second you walked upstairs.

"Hey!" he greeted, arms stretched out for you. Hugging you gently. "How are you?" he held you back by your shoulders as he looked over you.

"Alright," you answered watching Katsuki walk into his office, "I hurt like a bitch though."

Kirishima laughed warmly, "No doubt, sorry that happened. What you did was super manly though."

You cringed, "I thought you left the manly thing in high school."

"I say it on rare occasions," he smiled down at you.

"Say what?" Katsuki asked as he closed his office behind him, joining you again.

"Manly," you answered, leaning into his space, feeling safe. He hummed in reply, smiling down at you briefly before looking back at Kirishima, crossing him arms.

"You got my patrols cover till Tuesday right?" Katsuki asked.

"Yeah, Denki, Sero, Mina, me and even Midoriya are all taking a chunk of your hours," Kirishima smiled brightly.

"Till Thursday?" you looked up confused, Katsuki hated time off.

Katsuki refused to look at you. LIstening as Kirishima talked, "You need a break and we got it covered, don't worry."

He rolled his eyes, "Send me every detail that happens, I'll be available if absolutely needed."

"Got it," Kirishima gave a toothy grin. Likely happy that he convince Katsuki to take time off in general. You weren't surprised at him being at the hospital, but taking a week off was unknown for him. Yet he seemed perfectly okay with it.

---

Once home, you noticed the fridge was fully stocked. Katsuki's premade meals filling the shelfs. Glad to see no fried rice. Fruit also filling the shelfs.

It was the first thing you went for when you got home, ignoring the wrapped up couch and TV and going for the food. Afterall, Katsuki would set up the TV fully. Needing to wall mount it.

With a premade meal in your hands, warm and ready to eat, you stood at the counter and watched him work.

"So I remember saying I'd do an interview with a truth quirk," you brought up after a while, Katsuki humming to continue from where we set up the TV. "How do I do that without giving up information?"

"Aizawa is probably willing to help, he'll monitor you and turn off the truth quirk person if they ask something sensitive. Still don't know why you said that," he answered, cursing at the TV when it didn't hook into the slot on the wall mount easily.

"Just want to clear my name," you took another bite of food as you watched him grin in victory at the TV being attached to the wall now. Him plugging it in and starting to log into all the streaming apps and everything.

You joined him after finishing your food, pushing a part of the couch into the spot you wanted. "The fuck are you doin?" he spun his head towards you at the sound of the couch moving. "I'll do it, just fuckin' point where to go."

After huffing at him, you stood in front of the TV, facing the couch and leading him to place each section of the couch. Cutting off the wrapping afterwards and sitting in front of the TV.

"What are we watching?" he called towards you, you were digging through the little amount of stuff that Katsuki pack for you two. It was clothes and blankets, all you'd need until Tuesday. It was already Saturday as well.

You plopped down a big blanket for you to share and sunk into the couch, "I don't know," you mumbled. Watching as he clicked onto your favorite movie right after.

"Hate when you say that," he grumbled.

"Yeah sure," you leaned into his side, wanting to be as close as possible to him. The scare of the break in still getting to you. He messed with his hand for a moment before laying his arm over your shoulders, pushing you closer to him. It was something both of you clearly needed. Just the warmth of the other.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

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[azsazz]

Severance

Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Idk if you’re taking requests and it’s okay if you aren’t but I was rereading Feysand bonus chapter and it mentions that Feyre’s libido was heightened due to pregnancy and really wanted a fic where we see that with Az and reader bc I LOVE LOVE your daddy!Az fics and it would be funny seeing Az being a dad but also finding time to pleasure his pregnant mate due to hormones that man’s schedule would be jammed pack hahaha

Warnings: Smut, reader is pregnant, light breeding kink.

Word Count: 2061

Notes: This req is literally from a year ago today 😳 now that's some sort of fate (or mad laziness lol) Also, it's been a hot minute since I've written some smut hopefully it's good.

Bat Babies ages in this fic: Wren, Nyx, Gid 8, Baz 6, Zuzu 3, Jax 2, Knox and Malos in the womb.

_________________________________________

“Wren,” you sigh exasperatedly at your eight year old, “Please go play with your siblings. Mommy just needs a few minutes to herself.” 

It’s hard to keep your tone cool and level while your core is burning, dripping for the mate who’s stepped into the shadows whilst you bargain with your son. The both of you had snuck off for a few quick kisses that turned into something more, and it’s the first time you’ve had any time to yourselves in weeks. You don’t know if it’s being pregnant with two babies this time around making every single one of your senses heightened, but you don’t recall being this horny for your mate during your first four pregnancies.

Oh, you were insatiable, sweetheart, your mate purrs in your mind. You can feel the smugness radiating off of him not only from the bond tethering you, but from where he stands, five feet away and shrouded in darkness. And I loved every moment of it. You did too, of course.

You shut your eyes for a long second so your oldest son doesn’t catch you rolling them. I would love for you to remind me of just how much I loved it, mate, you send back, letting your frustrated desperation cling to your words, if we can ever seem to find the time.

Last week, Zuzu refused to go to Feyre’s painting class even though all of the other cousins were going in for a private session the High Lady had set up specifically so that you and your mate could spend the night alone together. She spent the entire time latched to Azriel’s leg and crying her little eyes out until the both of you gave in and let your daughter stay home. Your only saving grace that night was getting to lounge on the couch with a good book—that really only made you hornier for your mate—whilst Azriel and Zuzu baked cookies in the kitchen and hand delivered them to you with a large glass of milk.

A few days ago, it was Baz who had trouble sleeping and came pounding at your door while your mate was three fingers deep into your sopping cunt. The both of you had hastily gotten dressed, grumbling the entire time you did so, and let your second oldest son into the room. Azriel swiftly avoided Baz’s questioning about why your door had been locked in the first place, and the both of you watched him crawl up onto your bed and settle in the center of the tangled sheets, looking at the both of you expectantly. Baz talked your ears off all night long. 

And it was only last night when Jax who couldn’t be consoled when he couldn’t find his stuffed Suriel for bedtime. Azriel spent an hour scouring your house for the toy while you held Jax close, trying to keep your own emotions calm and serene instead of the frustration you wanted to give into, lest your son pick up on them and dampen his mood further. Even with his keen spymaster abilities and the shadows he’d released to help the cause, Azriel came up empty.

With four young children and twins on the way, it seemed as though they always knew the perfect time to interrupt you and your mate every time you tried to get close to each other. 

Wren frowns, his head falling back on his shoulders as he stares up at you with those hazel eyes that are a gift from his father. They’re pleading, and he really wants to have that sleepover with Gideon and Nyx, but you’ve never been a sucker for those pleading looks. If Wren thinks that huffing and puffing and making sad faces is going to change your mind, he came to the wrong parent.

Especially since he’s interrupted your fun as well.

You tap your foot, waiting your son out. He stares, and you stare back. You even cross your arms over your chest, resting them over the swollenness of your stomach, nearly two-thirds of the way through your pregnancy.

Your body goes taut at the feeling that Azriel lets zip down the bond. It’s one of complete arousal, his obsession with you when you make that stern face. 

It takes all of your willpower not to shift on your feet with the rush of wetness that accompanies the feeling of heat rushing through your veins. Not to clench your thighs together or glance over to where your mate stands, probably staring at you with his hazel eyes, filled with need.

Not that you’d be able to see him in the darkness anyway.

Wren’s pleading draws your attention away from your desires and back to the matter at hand.

“Please, mom!”

Clearing your throat so that it doesn’t falter when you speak, you answer. “You may have a sleepover with Nyx and Gideon tomorrow night if you're a good boy tonight. And that means playing with your siblings for a few minutes until I come to take Jax and Zuz for their baths.”

You’re pretty sure you lost your eldest son when you agreed to the sleepover, and you nearly stumble when he throws himself at you, hugging you tight. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Wren screeches with excitement, and your heart grows when he places a fleeting kiss to your stomach and bolts from the room. You can hear him tearing down the halls to where Baz is loudly making the toys in the living room speak. 

“Sweetheart, are you crying?” Azriel’s voice startles you. No longer is he hiding in the shadows, but at your side, swiping a calloused thumb across your cheek, swiping away the wetness.

“He’s just so sweet,” you gush, leaning into your mate’s arms. You press your ear to his chest, listening to the steady and strong thumping of his heart. You love this man and everything that you’ve built together. Through all of the missions and worrying, to building a home and family together, you truly are grateful for the life that you live.

“You know what else is sweet?” Azriel says, his suggestive whisper caressing the shell of your ear. It causes you to shiver, fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls you closer, lifting you easily into his arms.

“What?” you answer breathlessly, already losing yourself to your mate’s touch again. Namely, his thick cock brushing against your cunt with each step closer to the desk in the office he takes.

You don’t even have to worry about the kids right now. You can fall into the bliss you’ve been so desperately trying to find for the past week, because you noted how Azriel’s shadows trailed your son from the room, at least one always with every child at all times of the day.

“You.” His lips slant over yours, his tongue parting your lips with ease. You meet him halfway, licking, tasting your way as his hands hike up the skirts of your dress and pull your panties to the side as soon as your ass hits the edge of the wooden desk. “Tell me what you need, mate.”

There isn’t time for foreplay, for teasing nips of teeth against your hardened nipples. They’re rubbing against the fabric of your dress just fine. No time for orgasms by his hands, his tongue. You’d hardly be able to enjoy the view of Azriel on his knees for you with the size of your bump.

“Your cock,” you whimper, trying desperately to keep your voice low.

You shudder against the fingers he drags across your cunt, swiping through your slick. You’re ready, more than. You need him right this instant.

Azriel swallows the plea you’re about to release, enjoying the way you tug on his hair as a way to reprimand him. It has him grinning into the kiss, his fingers quickly fumbling with his belt because he’s just as desperate as you are, having not nearly been near you—or in you—enough in the past few weeks. 

Your pesky children are always interrupting.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers easily, and your back arches as he rubs the head of his cock across your sopping heat.

Azriel almost snarls with pleasure at the sight of your bump pressing sky-high. He leans in closer, loving the feeling of the three of you close. You’re so fucking beautiful, and there’s something special about how you look swollen with his child, something the both of you made.

He’s seen it four times over by now, and it never gets fucking old. He’ll keep you good and pregnant until you tell him you don’t want any more children.

And he loves the way you writhe against him, hook your legs around his waist, trying to force him closer, your cunt greedily trying to suck his cock deep into your womb. Loves the way your nails pinch into his shoulders, the way your teeth latch onto his lip to keep quiet when he pushes into you in one fell swoop. 

There’s a burst of blood on his tongue but Azriel loves it, quickly pulling out and pressing back in so that you’ll bite him again. When you come down from your high, you’ll apologize profusely, but he doesn’t care, likes a bit of pain with his pleasure. 

He’ll revel in the redness of your cheeks when your children ask him what happened to him later, though.

“Azriel,” you cry, clutching onto your mate for dear life. You love the feeling of his thick cock stretching you, the gushing between your legs when he so easily finds that spot that has you cumming within seconds like some whore. He knows that you need this release, that the both of you need to be quick and quiet with your fucking. Your children can only be occupied for so long.

“I’ll make sure Cassian or Rhys can take the children tomorrow,” Azriel promises against your mouth, smothering the sounds you make for him. He’s just as desperate to hear you scream, the reminder of it has heat pooling in his core, his pace quickening. “Then, you can scream as loud as you want, mate, all night long.”

A second orgasm washes over you like a wave. Azriel didn’t even have to stick his hands between the both of you, but he is now, wanting one more before he releases himself. It’s brewing quickly, and he circles his fingers over your clit, skilled and an expert at everything that has to do with you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You beg, hips rolling to meet his. Azriel groans into your neck, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over the hurt.

“I’m going to cum,” he pants harshly, straightening to his full height to look down at you in all of your sexed-out glory. The way you can barely keep yourself braced against the desk, the way your mouth is parted in that perfect shape that almost makes him want to pull out and stick his cock down your throat instead. The way that your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head that you can see the bond connecting the both of you, completely overcome with desire.

You keen your agreement, words jumbled as he takes you to your peak again, the both of you shuddering with pleasure as your orgasms overcome you. 

He rubs you through your pleasure, rocking his hips slowly as he empties himself deeply inside of you. If you weren’t  already pregnant, Azriel’s sure you would be now, with how much cum he’s pumping inside of you.

Your mate hugs you close, rubbing your back until you come down from your high. 

You lean back, blinking up at him blearily, and it makes Azriel want to take you all over again.

“Is that a promise, mate?” You ask, referring to him making sure that all of your children will be away at their aunts and uncles tomorrow night, leaving the both of you to yourselves. Well, plus the two in your uterus.

Azriel hums, finally pulling out of you. You gasp at the loss but his fingers are there, stuffing the leaking cum back into your cunt. You’re not sure your legs can support you right now, but they don’t need to, because you’re already rearing for another round. 

“It’s a promise, sweetheart.”

[simblrcc-site]

Simblr.cc - but better!

A lot has changed! Not only does it have a new lick of paint, it comes with way more features now!

Psst! If you are new to the site, please read this post first: Click me!

✨New Features

There are a lot of exciting new features:

An improved (Tumblr) importer.

A better Stories uploader.

A new lightweight uploader for quick, small posts.

A completely redesigned projects page with a fresh, modern look!

A redesign of the feed page + being able to like posts on said feed

You can now upload stories as "scenes" that appear on the feed, while still being part of a full, easily navigable story!

A new "Welcome" page, giving more people exposure to their stuff!

And... of course some bug fixes and teeny tiny User experience issues. 😉

🐦Lightweight Uploader

Something I'm super proud of putting together, the Lightweight uploader!

It streamlines the process of uploading simple pictures—no more navigating through multiple pages. Everything is on one easy-to-use page.

If you're logged in, you can access it directly from the Feed or via the "Upload/Post" option in the navbar.

Compatible Post Types:

WIPs

Gameplay

Personal

Lookbook

Familiar and Intuitive Features

If you're used to Tumblr's posting mechanism, you'll notice some recognizable elements:

Drag and Drop Images: Arrange your pictures to create collages! Each row holds up to 3 images, and you can add as many rows as you want.

Simpler Tagging: Tags are now easier to select.

Optional Titles and Descriptions: For WIPs and Personal Posts, titles and descriptions are optional. For other posts, they're still available but not required.

Streamlined and intuitive, the Lightweight Uploader makes sharing your content easier than ever!

📥 Improved Importer:

What's New?

New Importer: Pillowfort! We’ve added a brand-new import option: Pillowfort!

Tumblr Importer:

Previously, the Tumblr Importer relied heavily on your theme, which often caused errors if your theme wasn’t quite right. Fixing those errors was frustrating for both of us!

What’s changed? The importer now uses the official Tumblr API to grab your posts. This means imports will work flawlessly 99% of the time.

Plus, when you share a post on Simblr.cc, the importer will reblog it on Simblr.cc's Tumblr, giving you more exposure—that’s what Simblr.cc is all about!

What about past uploads?

I'm working to have the importer recognize whether your upload is CC or a Gameplay item (not live yet).

Support is being added to reblog posts from the old Tumblr Importer, so those uploads can still shine!

More import options are on the way in the future!

🖊 Improved Stories Uploader

Easier for Writers and readers! 😉

When creating a new story or legacy, you now have three options:

Chapter-Only Story

Chapters & Scenes Story

Scenes-Only Story

Important: All stories created before this update are currently set to Chapters-Only.

What’s the Difference Between a Chapter and a Scene?

Introducing Scenes! Previously, stories and legacies were strictly chapter-based, meaning you could only release a full chapter at a time. Now, with scenes, you have more flexibility!

A scene works like a storyteller’s post on Tumblr—it appears on your feed. This means your scenes can be shared on Simblr.cc’s Feed (but not the Stories browse page) even before the full chapter is published, making it easier for readers to discover your story.

Note: A "Scenes-Only" story works just like a "Chapters & Scenes" story—just without the chapters! 😉

Can I Change My Story Type?

You can change a Chapters-Only Story to a Chapters & Scenes Story. However, you cannot switch from Chapters-Only to Scenes-Only or any other combination.

Though, you will have to ask me to do this for you, due to the way it's currently set up.

Afterwords:

Note: Since this entire platform was built by just one person (me!), it might still have some bugs I haven’t come across yet. Please understand that most social media platforms have entire teams working on features like this, and therefore I can't promise a super "bug free" experience.

So, If you spot any bugs, please don’t hesitate to report them—it’ll help make the platform even better, and it also helps me out! Thanks for your support! 😊

[v-anrouge]

Verryyy long ranting under this about vil and how this fandom treats him for absolutely no reason pls excuse any mistakes and feel free to correct me with any accidental misinfo i passed <3

Mentions of racism, fatphobia, eating disorders, elitism & ableism and also SPOILERS for Vil's character story (eng only)

Ever since this game started getting super famous in tiktok and twitter it seems that people just love to butcher literally every character in Twst and sometimes it's genuinely baffling how wrong some of the takes are, it really does make me wonder if some people just don't read the story and just skip every character who isn't their fave, and if they really do that, what makes them think they know enough about the rest of the cast to post in the character's main tag the most rancid read on a character, often accompanied by some accusations of literal crimes of bigotry that really should be taken more seriously instead of being terms thrown around.

I'm gonna be talking about Vil specifically but characters like Leona, Jamil, Sebek and a few others have it exceptionally bad as well (especially Leo and Jamil who's haters can even be quite racist)

I've been playing for a very long time (in eng) i remember being there to watch the Heartslabyul final release and the release of Savanaclaw's chapter and through these years ive seen the most horrific takes on Vil's characters, ranging from the accusations of racism (which have been debunked again and again especially by JP players) to accusations of supporting eds, fatphobia, elitism and ableism. The funny thing is that even with a very quick read of any of Vil's story you'll find out there is no support for any of such claims. They like to use the incident with Epel's accent when for years JP players have pointed out how this was strictly an error of localization since they couldn't find a situation similar to the one that is portrayed in the original game to put in eng twst, they went with the one we have where Vil asks Epel to "hide his accent" (he really doesn't he was talking about the way Epel is rude and disrespectful which would definitely end with him being beat up and then expelled bringing a bad fame to Pomefiore and also making Vil look bad for not properly guiding his dorm students) which is a terrible choice but alas it seems people prefer to ignore facts to stick with their claim that Vil is some sort of monster when this man is literally a teen. He's 18 years old and has to constantly look out for his image in and out of school since he grew up in front of the cameras.

Vil's character is all about beauty and self care and self acceptance yet for some people this seems to translate to "starve yourself if you don't want to be a disgusting fat pig" which is very weird to say the least considering all mentions Vil makes about diets he is talking about keeping a balanced diet to nurture your body and even has a voice line pointing out the importance of eating. Vil himself may be coded to have an ED in his overblot and Lab vignette but he has never and would never encourage one, he literally goes out of his way to annoy students to take care of themselves what makes anyone think he'd encourage them anyways? It's such a weird thing to assume of a character.

A lot of people seem to think that Vil is also the "beauty standart" king which doesn't even make sense considering vil is a gnc man, he already doesn't follow beauty standards and would definitely be against it, Vil's vision of beauty for himself may be twisted due to his traumas and troubles yet his vision of beauty for others is always exclusively on the person being their best version, this includes dressing how they want to and feel comfortable in, using whatever makeup they want (or just not using it at all) etc.

The way Vil speaks is often misunderstood as he tends to be strict and can be read as mean (I've already shared my theory on what may have caused this behavior here before so i won't be getting into too many details) but Vil is a famous and respected housewarden because if you actually stop and think about his advice the end result is always an effort to make the person's desires come true. (a good example is how Vil made Epel clean the windows and although Epel was displeased with the hard labor in the end he notices how the task may help with muscle growth and gets happy)

Vil's way of caring for others is often misunderstood and obviously that's understandable, not everybody may get his "rougher" way of handling advice, but also it's a bit weird how people react to it when in game all of the characters seem to be okay with it, Pomefiore has a lot of students and if they considered Vil to be a bad leader he would've been voted out a long time ago, no? And if i remember correctly wasn't it said in game they had very few transfers? (as in characters moving out of Pomefiore and into other dorms) That wouldn't make sense if Vil was really the cruel leader some people make him out to be. The truth is Vil is a nice caring person and his students recognize that which is why he is respected all across the school and not simply on his dorm (because ive seen people say Vil has brainwashed the Pomefiore students into thinking he is a good housewarden 💀)

Vil surely has issues he needs to work through, after all this game is literally about that, dealing with troubled teenagers and their internal struggles and the importance of asking for help (omg friendship is magic...) but Vil is also a teenager, and he is one of the characters that show the most desire to get better, immediately showing regret and apologizing to Yuu and his classmates for the danger he put them in, that is because Vil genuinely does care for them.

Another accusation people make is ableism, i remember seeing many posts saying Vil wouldn't respect disabled people and/or mentally ill people which is 1- extremely fucking rude to say? 2- absolutely wrong. Again just a quick read on Vil's character will tell you everything you need to know about how he'd feel about disabled people, he'd treat them like everyone else, and would adjust his handling accordingly to their needs, i really don't get where this claim comes from but it's quite ironic because a lot of Vil haters tend to be ableist themselves by claiming that Vil is a bad person mentioning traits that are often caused by mental illness and the effect of traumas, failing to analyze how their treatment of a character that displays common mental illness symptoms may affect people in real life who displays the same symptoms, and often being ableist themselves by judging these actions irredeemable and inherently evil/heartless, once again dehumanizing people with mental illness in real life who deal with the same symptoms.

Another common thing is the constant invalidation of Vil's trauma. A lot of people seem to read book 5 with their eyes closed and take away from the story that the reason Vil "got pissy and almost killed a guy" (wording of a terrible post i saw a few days ago<333) is because he's a "spoiled brat who couldn't handle getting the paper he wanted in a movie boo hoo" which is kind of funny with how terribly wrong it is, i really don't know what your thought process has to be to get his backstory this wrong but sure, let's start; The start of Vil's problems with being cast as a villain starts from when he was very very young, he was just a child when after being cast as a villain for a movie he was almost beat up by a group of boys for being an "evil guy" and by his reaction it wouldn't be impossible that this wasn't his first time dealing with that kind of thing. Vil also tells jack (who scared away the group) that he had trained so he would be able to deal with them on his own which again, could be a hint that this wasn't that uncommon in his life. In Vil's overblot dialogue is all we really need to know to debunk this claim.

What Vil wanted wasn't just to be a hero in a movie, he wanted to be seen, to be heard and cherished, he wanted to be more than a pretty prop they could put on the front to get attention only to be taken out of stage when he was no longer necessary in the next scene, do you get it? He wanted to be able to see his hard work pay off, to see his efforts of years being rewarded, to for once not be exchangeable for someone more favorable. Vil wanted to feel like all his pain was worth it in the end because finally he could shine in the stage, being himself instead of just another persona to attract people. In his overblot it's shown clearer than ever that Vil does not have a stable view of his own image unlike what he has trained himself to show, even calling himself ugly and begging them to not look at him. I don't think Vil is used to be being vulnerable, which would explain why he was so freaked out when the overblot happened, and why he cried when his beauty (the one thing about himself that was always recognized by others and therefore the thing he'd always been the most desperate to nurture) was taken away by aging in book 6 (note; the fact Vil sacrificed it for his classmates also just debunks the people saying he only cares for himself, if he did he wouldn't be who he is.)

I said i wouldn't give my thoughts again but i will, just briefly, i believe an easy explanation to Vil's behavior (the tough love he gives and his strictness) might be because of the industries he grew up in, we can't know for sure how similar twst's version of the movie and modeling industry is when compared to the real life one but considering the way Vil is, my guess it's that it's pretty similar, especially in the regard of their treatment towards children, in Vil's overblot he hears two staff members talking about how he'd never be able to pull off a relatable role because he is too perfect, and sure those may not look like insults, but to Vil who's only dream his entire life was to be seen in good light, those words stuck to him so deeply they'd come back to him during his overblot. (note; i have not seen a jp translation of the overblot scenes so i don't know if they also suffered from localization issues, if anyone has a link to one i could see id really like to see what the staff said to Vil)

The general point of Vil's overblot was how his efforts and hard work were always overlooked and ignored in favor of someone else, this happens with quite a lot of characters and happens as well with another overblot (Leona, who happens to be quite similar to Vil in many ways) and although i don't expect anyone to read it and think of analysing it more deeply even with a shallow vision of his overblot it's still incredibly insensitive to call it a "non-problem" especially considering the fact this is Vil's ENTIRE life, he's been working hard and failing for years again and again and that does get to you. I remember when i posted my first rant on Vil quite a lot of people who reported to be skilled at something (say for example music or dancing) as a child that any failures absolutely destroyed you inside, and that people who haven't passed through the same tend to call them dramatic and say they're overreacting to situations that can be classified as trauma depending on how much it mentally impacted said child. (and in Vil's case it's clear it had a massive one, after all he wouldn't have overblotted if he didn't have issues that had been bottled up until they finally exploded)

Mentioning Leona again, he and Vil share the same sentiment of anguish for being discarded and having their hard work be thrown away, the difference in them is the way they reacted to it, while Leona ended up not seeing any value in attempting to do anything because he assumes the outcome is always going to be the same, Vil overworks himself and forces himself to do things he might hate clinging to the hope that this time it'll work out.

Since we're talking about trauma ill already answer some things that may or may not come with this post (because in my first one i got this response a lot) "Vil's a fictional character it doesn't matter" and sure if you think like that cool, personally, when im talking about a fictional character that tackles real life traumas and issues, i talk about it as if referring to a real person because the character has been written with one (or multiple) in mind.

Twst may have issues but the character writing is undeniably about real life traumas and experiences, and the characters are quite accurate and good representation of the issues they tackle, so when you invalidate them, you are by result invalidating real life issues. Of course this won't stop anyone and i know that a few people will probably scoff at this and brush it off as being too sensitive but personally if you wouldn't dare invalidate say for example Riddle's traumas because you know it's a representation of mommy issues, which is a very real problem, to not go against your own morals you should also respect the issues of all the other characters, even if you personally think some are more "serious" than the other.

[speakergame]

Progress Update - 3/4/24

Hello and happy March!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!

I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.

I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞

I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.

Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙

(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)

I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes: 

To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.

So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.

Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now. 

Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing. 

All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.

This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it) 

These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.

I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.

Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.

[justmeinadaze]

Yin and Yang Part 3 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s), SMUT, reader becomes a bit of brat in this one, Spanking, slight degrading, LOTS of dirty talk, hair pulling, I think that's it. FLUFF, Eddie and the reader have a long established relationship and they love each other, they love Steve to but...

ANGST, Reader feels neglected with how busy both boys are but especially Eddie. Tries to make them jealous, Jealous Steddie 😈,There's a moment where Eddie talks about his mom and his grief (brief), Steve has some insecurities with intimacy and being in a relationship (written from the fears of yours truly *bows* LOOK I HAVE TRAUMA OK?!), Cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).

Enjoy reading it because I had fun writing the smut part lol

Word Count: 5771

Last Chapter here/ Donate or Tip Here

For the past few weeks, Eddie had been incredibly busy. 

There was a new band that had been signed to his label and he was doing everything he could to push them in front of all the important eyes he could. When you went to visit him, most of the time he was in a meeting or on the phone. What really bothered you was when he brought all that home and spent hours in his office grumbling at people on the other end. 

Steve had been on the go a lot as well. It had been a few months since you first met him and you found yourself missing him as much as you missed Eddie. You would constantly scroll through his social media and watch interviews he did on YouTube hoping to just get a glimpse of what he was up to. Did he miss you as much as you missed him? Probably not with how many women he was constantly seen with. 

Even with your boyfriend, you felt like he wasn’t giving you enough attention and it made you feel underappreciated.

“That’s ridiculous, Mack, are you kidding? These ladies are incredibly popular right now and they are worth way more than the price you’re offering.”

It was late in the evening and Eddie had barely touched his food before his phone rang and he excused himself to take the call. You missed him so much and you hated feeling so alone. After changing into your white silk nightie you knew he loved, you tip toed into his office as he leaned back into his chair and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

He barely even moved when you slid onto his lap and wrapped one of your arms around the back of his neck while your other palm rubbed his chest. 

“I’m not someone you fucking haggle with. Either you give me the price we’re offering or you don’t and you have no band. It is what it is.” Hanging up his phone, he tossed it loudly onto his desk as he released a heavy sigh. “Jesus, I’m fucking done with event managers and producers.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I know how hard you work. Can I make you feel better?”

“Oh, sweetheart, not tonight. I still have one more call to make and then I just want to take a long warm shower and go to bed.”

“Please, baby.”, you coo as you kiss his cheek.

You both exhale in frustration as his phone starts to aggressively vibrate. As he reaches over to answer, your own palm shoots out to cover his. 

“Please, Eddie.”, you plead as your eyes bore into his. 

“I have to take this, Y/N. It will be real quick and—”

He doesn’t even get to finish as you push yourself off his lap and head towards your bed to fall asleep alone. 

***

A knock on the front door startles you both while you were (silently) getting ready for the launch party of Eddie’s new band that he finally signed to biggest venue in California. 

“Are you expecting anyone?”

After shaking your head, he saunters over to the door and slowly opens it before a force of a man pushes through making Eddie beam with delight. 

“Harrington! What are you doing here, man?”

“Like I’d miss one of your launches, dude. Where’s your gorgeous girlfriend?” Both men were taken aback when they heard your heels click along the floor before you practically jumped in Steve’s open arms. “Whoa! There she is. Everything alright?”

You didn’t say anything as you squeezed your arms tightly around him and inhaled the cologne that clung to his neck. 

“Baby, let him breathe.”

“I’m sorry. I…we just missed you.”

A small smile flickers across his lips when you release him from your hold before he leans down and tenderly kisses your cheek. 

“I missed you both to and you both look delicious like always.”, he grins. “Come on, let’s have some fun tonight.”

####################

You weren’t having any fun as you pouted in the back of the club hosting the party with your arms crossed as you watched both men before you. Eddie, who didn’t really enjoy this kind of evening events, mingled with some of the men and continued to gesture towards the group he signed as they let loose on stage, completely ignoring you to the point that he barely even noticed when your arm detached from his to go on the hunt for Steve. 

The businessman himself, was giggling and openly flirting with a couple of women at a nearby table and you couldn’t help the bile that gurgled in your throat when you noticed one of their hands was resting on his upper thigh. 

Neither of them were paying attention and it pissed you off. As you thought about ways to attain what you desperately craved an opportunity suddenly presented itself. 

“Hey pretty girl. I’m Xavier and I couldn’t help but notice you over here by yourself. May I buy you a drink and keep you company?”

With a mischievous smirk, you nodded and allowed this young man to take your hand as he guided you to the bar. As he began to talk to you about something you couldn’t care less about, you wondered how long it would take for them to notice. Eddie wasn’t exactly the jealous type but he was incredibly protective especially when it came to parties with a lot of people. He had an idea of how the industry was and wanted to make sure you were always safe. 

You had also never really given him a reason to be jealous because you were always so infatuated with him, you never even wanted to look anywhere else. With Steve, it was different and he was so much like Eddie with a few contrasts that together would make them a force to be reconned with. 

“Y/N.”, the businessman cooed you name with a sarcastic edge. “Who’s your friend?”

“Hi, um, I’m Xavier.”, he introduces again, raising his hand for Steve to shake.

His gorgeous eyes look down at it with disgust before clicking his tongue and meeting his gaze. 

“Yeah, I would get your palm off her thigh, X.” Your own eyes quickly look that way to find the other man’s hand was indeed resting where the end of your dress and skin meet. You hadn’t even noticed. 

“What’s it to you, Mr. Harrington?”

When Steve chuckles, a giddy adrenaline sends chills through your body straight down to your core.

“Is this really the game you want to play, honey?”, he asks you as he absently gestures to the man across from you. 

“Excuse me but it sounds like you’re threatening this young woman, Steven.”, the man tries to defend. 

“That’s because I am, Xavier.”, he replies in an equally matched tone without breaking his eye contact from yours. “See, this young woman is Eddie’s girl and since he’s my best friend I have a responsibility to keep an eye on her.”

“And yet she was standing by herself near the wall all alone.”

Pain briefly flashes through Steve’s eyes; at you being alone or the fact that he didn’t notice, you weren’t sure. Sighing and shaking his head, he turns without saying another word and walks away leaving you in disbelief. 

That’s all? He’s not going to do anything? 

The heartbreak you felt was aggressively overwhelmed with anger as you got up from your chair and stomped towards your boyfriend. 

“EDWARD MUNSON! I need to talk to you NOW!”

His wide shocked eyes met yours as all conversation around him immediately ceased before regaining his composure to politely smile your way. 

“Baby, I’m in the middle of a conversation right now. Can it wait a moment?”

“No, it can’t but if you want to keep ignoring me and talking to these assholes you can!” The sound of Steve choking on his beverage as he laughed at your words behind Eddie’s shoulder caught your attention. “Shut up, Harrington! You’re just as much of an asshole as the rest of them!”

A couple of the men beside him snicker as your boyfriend’s angry eyes remain locked on you as his head tilts to the side. He’s never seen you behave this way and to be honest he found it fascinating even as he was seething. 

“Uh oh, Eddie. Sounds like someone’s girlfriend needs a tampon.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to ignore the rude comment as he continues to glare your way as his chest rises and falls in heavy fury filled breaths. 

“You know what, Kevin, one of our bands is playing at one of your venues next week right? I’m going to pull them and go with my second choice.”

“Now wait a minute, Ed—”

“NO, YOU WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!”, he abruptly yells the man’s way, making you jump. “Even though she’s being a brat, that’s still the woman I love so you will show her fucking respect! Am I being understood?!”

“Yeah, man. Yeah, we understand.”

Glancing behind him at Steve again, you notice him bite his bottom lip as his glassy eyes constantly rake over Eddie as he defends you. 

“Nothing hotter than watching Eddie get tightly wound.”

When he first told you that, you didn’t exactly have a frame of reference but seeing it now as the man you loved oozed and asserted his dominance was driving you crazy. 

Taking a hold of your hand, Eddie practically tugs you towards the exit with Steve in tow. Behind you, you hear one of the girls he had been talking to ask where he was going but the businessman ignored her question as he grabs the hand she had placed on his bicep and moves it to the side. 

“You want my attention, little girl, you got it.”, Eddie growled making your knees weak. 

##############

You couldn’t help but drag your feet a little bit as your boyfriend powerwalked into your shared apartment and made a beeline towards the bourbon. 

“Move.”, Steve commanded firmly as he lightly pushed you forward till you were in the middle of the wide-open living room. “Stay.”

“I’m not a fucking dog.”, you sassed under your breath right as he turned to leave. 

Smirking, he swiveled slowly back around to face you before roughly tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling your head back till your chin was jutting out in the air as your defiant eyes met his.

“Stop acting like a bitch and I’ll stop treating you like one.”, he replied calm and cooly as if he were whispering sweet nothings against your lips. “Now…stay.”

This time he backed away from you, raising his eyebrow as if to challenge you to speak again which you don’t take. 

“Are you alright?”, Steve asks genuinely as Eddie knocks back what’s in his glass and pours another. 

“She’s never done that before. She’s never been a brat like that.”

“Hm.”, he hums as they both shift their gazes your way. “Maybe, it’s been too long since Daddy’s shown little girl her place.” 

When worry paints Eddie’s features, his friend tenderly pushes his long hair out of the way so he can see his face. The action made your head tilt as you continued to study their personal dynamic. They seemed to care about each other very much but lately you often wondered why they never pushed past that best friend boundary. 

“Does it bother you? That she’s not as innocent as you believed her to be?” Without hesitation, the man shook his head making Steve toss a lighthearted smile your way as if to tell you everything was ok. “Eddie, she’s a big girl. She knows her limits and she knows your safe word. She been practically begging for your attention to the point that she caused a scene in front of those douchebags. Give baby girl what she’s asking for.”

“I don’t want to hurt her. I…I don’t know how to be like you, Steve.”

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you could see the conflict in your boyfriend’s eyes. You wanted to assure him you were fine and that you trusted him. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.

“It’s ok, Eddie, baby.”

“Did either of us say you could speak, little girl?!”, Steve boomed making you yelp as you immediately silenced yourself. Like a devil on his shoulder, the businessman whispered in Eddie’s ear as he removed his suit friend’s suit jacket and tossed it to the side. “You see that? Really look at her, Eddie. She’s still that innocent, pretty girl you love to take care of. But sometimes…” While he spoke, Steve’s large palm gradually glided down Eddie’s chest, below his waist, and to the prominent bulge in his slacks. “…sometimes good girls need to be put in their place and reminded why they call you Daddy.”

Eddie’s eyes briefly met his friend’s before reaching out to forcibly crash his lips to his. The way Steve grinned and chuckled when they pulled away had a needy whine escape your chest as the ache between your legs grew. 

“Can you show me?”

“Yeah, baby, I can show you.”

After taking off his own jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed the long-haired man’s arm and maneuvered him till he was directly in front of you taking up all your personal space as his nose hovered just above yours. 

“Don’t take your eyes off his, Y/N.”

“Yes, Mr. Harrington.”

“Did you buy her this dress?”

“I buy all her dresses.”, Eddie answers flatly.

“Is this a favorite, Edward?”

His irises leave yours, slowly trailing down your body and back up to your face before shaking his head. As soon as he gets the go ahead, Steve rips your dress in two in his massive hands causing you to groan in pleasure as he aggressively yanks it off your frame. 

“Put your fucking hands down.”, he growls, reaching over to push at your arms when your automatically raise them to cover your breasts. As the businessman placed himself behind you, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin the same way Eddie’s was and you fully fell into that headspace making you feel small under their towering figures boxing you in. 

“Has your Daddy ever spanked you before?”

“No, Sir.”, your murmured in a tiny voice that had your boyfriend’s chest heave as he exhaled.

“Huh. Never been a bad girl or has he just been letting you get away with everything this whole time?”

“I-I-I’m a good girl, Mr. Harrington.”

“Mhmm. I’m going to spank you 10 times and when I’m done you’re going to thank me. Do you understand? Until then all I want to hear is ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘No, Sir’ when I ask you something.”

“Yes, S-S-Sir.”

You squeaked when his palm abruptly connected with your behind. 

“Louder, Y/N. I want to fucking hear you or I start over. Now, I said, do you understand?”, Steve grumbled through clenched teeth in your ear. 

“Yes, Sir.”, you answered more prominently, satisfying him enough to take a step back and balance a hand on your shoulder. 

Your eyes remained glued to Eddie as his best friend spanked your ass a few times allowing some time in between before every slap. As you searched his features, you could tell your boyfriend was enjoying this. The way his mouth twitched into a small smirk every time a light moan left your lips and his now large dent trying to push through his pants told you he wanted nothing more than to fuck you till you were screaming his name. 

Steve seemed to have more control, his tone never wavering as he began throwing questions your way. 

“So you’re a good girl, huh. I may be mistaken but good girls respect their Daddies.”

“I do respect—Mmph!”

“That didn’t sound like a yes or no Sir to me.”, Steve scolded as he hit you again. “So you shouting at him in front of people he works with is respect?”

*SPANK*

“N-No, Sir.”

“Letting another man touch your leg is respect?” 

At that particular question, a fire lit in Eddie’s eyes making you tremble as you were spanked a bit harder than before. 

“No, Sir.”

“You let someone touch you?”, your boyfriend asked in a gruff tone you had never heard from him before. 

“I didn’t know his hand was—”

“Oh, bullshit. So you didn’t willingly sit at a bar with that guy thinking it would make Eddie jealous so you could get his attention?”

“Yes, Sir, but—”

“But what, Y/N? Huh?” Eddie’s fingers tangle in your hair and pull just like his friend had. “But what?!”

“You and Mr. Harrington were ignoring me!”, you cry as Steve’s hand comes down harder. 

“We’re busy men, Y/N, and you know that.”

“Busy flirting! Steve had girls touching him and—”

The man him leaned forward and your pussy clenched as both their breaths warmed your face. 

“Who am I in here, little girl? Do you need to be reminded every fucking time or are you just doing this to piss me off?” The sound of his palm hitting your skin reverberated loudly though the room. “Your Daddy may have let you get away with that shit but I won’t.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Little slut got fucking jealous because other girls were flirting with me.” *SPANK* “But instead of coming to talk to me you pouted and behaved like a spoiled brat trying to get my attention.” *SPANK* “And what’s your excuse with him, huh? Eddie would never hurt you like that.”

“D-D-Daddy didn’t notice w-w-when I was alone.”

Steve didn’t understand it but he heard it in your tone and saw it in his best friend’s eyes as they widened for a moment. Your words meant something to you both. 

“One more, Y/N. You…you did really well. You took your punishment like a good girl.”

Your eyes remained focused on Eddie as the other man held your bicep and reared back delivering you one final slap on your behind.

“Good. Good girl. What color are we at, honey?”

“Green, Sir. Thank you.”, you murmured as you softly began to cry. “You’ve been so busy these past few weeks, Daddy. You leave me alone a lot and when you are here you’re on the phone. Sometimes, when I get sad, I watch interviews with Mr. Harrington like you do but that just make me sadder be-because I miss him to. I miss you both.”

Eddie’s entire demeanor softened as he listened to you speak before shifting into that dominate energy you recognized immediately and hadn’t seen in so long. 

“Baby…”, he cooed. “Come here.”

You didn’t even hesitate as you jumped into his arms and wrapped your limbs around him. Holding you tightly, he carried you to the couch and gently laid you on your back. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You tried to get my attention and talk to me so many times but I just brushed you off. Can I make it up to you, princess? Can Daddy make you feel good?”

“Please, Daddy, I need you.”

Reaching between your bodies, Eddie unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants enough to free his cock before gradually guiding it into your core. 

“Fuck me, baby girl. You really—fuck—liked being spanked, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“So fucking wet…just making a mess all over Daddy. God, you feel so good.”

As he slowly thrust into you, Steve kneeled beside you both and tenderly pet your head. 

“I missed you to, Y/N. I think about you both all the time.”, he whispers as you open your eyes to meet his and Eddie does the same to glance down at his friend stroking his own cock. “You can always call me, honey. Whenever you want, day or night, I’ll answer.”

Taking a hold of his collar, you yanked his lips to yours causing him to smile into your kisses as your boyfriend pushed up onto his palms and rolled his hips roughly into you. 

“Can I—mmm—Can I see you kiss again?”, you whimpered as his grin grew. 

Eddie was so focused on your warm pussy squeezing him that he didn’t even turn his head when Steve ran his nose along his cheek forcing him to grab his jaw to bring his mouth to his. 

Their mouths casually opened as the businessman welcomed his friend’s tongue and Eddie couldn’t contain the groan that left as his whole body collapsed onto yours with his head falling beside yours. Your fingers threaded through his hair as you held him, listening to his repetitive grunts in your ear as his cock pounded into that sensitive spot inside you. 

“Just like that… Please, Daddy. I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, baby, please.”

Winking down at you, Steve sucked on his fingers and you watched with half-lidded eyes as he slid them between Eddie’s ass cheeks. 

“Jesus Christ!” When your boyfriend tried to lift his head, you held him to your neck as his pace quickened and he shuttered against you as you felt him paint your insides with his release. As your cunt continued to milk him, you trembled and moaned his name as you came with him.  

“God, you both are so fucking hot.”

Eddie tilted up, grazing the tip of his nose along yours while gently placing pecks on your lips. 

“Can I have him to, Daddy?”

“Of course, baby girl. If you think you can handle him right now.”, he answers in a gravelly, exhausted, pleasure filled tone that has you beaming.

“Honey, you should take a break.”

“I can handle it, Mr. Harrington. I swear. Please…”, you beg. “I missed the way you feel inside me.”

“Fuck me.”

Eddie chuckled at Steve’s earnestness as he backed out of the way so his friend could pull you to the floor and place you onto all fours in front of him. You whimpered as his soft lips kissed down your spine and he dragged the tip of his cock through your dripping folds. 

As he carefully began to press into your entrance, your upper half fell flat against the wood underneath you. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, you’re—fuuuuuuck—doing good. Just breathe.” Steve’s palms kneaded into the meat of your ass as he watched himself gradually disappearing inside of you. “God, I’ll never get over how tight t-this pussy is.”, he groaned before his hand came down to spank you making him laugh through his teeth. “You see, Ed, behind every innocent little girl is a freak who l-loves to be told to behave. Right, baby?”

“Oh, oh my… Yes, Sir.”

The businessman exhales heavily as he thrusts into you much easier than the last time. There was still that small bit of resistance as he stretched you open but your boyfriend helped open your pussy up for him and for that he was grateful. 

Gripping your hips, he adjusted you so he could push deeper inside, making you groan as he found a steady rhythm.

You vaguely heard it through your fog of pleasure, the sound of lips smacking. Craning your neck, you watched as Eddie passionately kissed his friend as his palm caressed his hairy chest up to the base of his neck. 

A low growl rumbled from him as Steve pressed his body flat against yours, rolling his waist as his breath warmed your ear. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, little girl? When you called me an asshole.”

“I’m—mmm—I’m so sorry for…for being disrespectful, Sir.”

“This is your warning, Y/N. I’m not like your Daddy. If—mmph—if you ever behave like that again I’ll do more than just bring y-you home and spank you. Do you understand?” While he spoke, he had stopping moving eliciting a small whine from you as you tried to push back against him. Utilizing his knees, he pushed you down flat against the floor, pushing both your legs together and placing his hand roughly on the back of your neck. “I said, do you understand?”

In this new position, Steve’s cock somehow felt deeper inside of you as it pressed buttons you didn’t even know you had and your eyes rolled back. 

“Hey.”, Eddie barked sternly as your eyes met his from where he was still laying on the couch. “Answer Mr. Harrington’s question or else you won’t get to cum again.”

“N-No, Daddy. Please. Yes, I understand.”

Smirking, he gradually began to pump into you again with reckless abandon as you both whimpered at the feeling. Fulling encasing you in his embrace, Steve’s sweaty forehead landed on your shoulder as his palm appeared by your side near your cheek. 

Without even thinking about it, you intertwined your fingers with his and his glassy eyes opened to what you were doing. It had been so long since Steve had been in a committed relationship and partners were often coming and going from his place or hotel at will. 

A lot of the time, they submitted the way he liked and after the ecstasy filled evening ended they left him or he left them. People would be surprised how lonely he actually was and how much he occasionally craved comfortable intimacy. Someone to hold, take care of, or wake up to the next morning.

Eddie gave that to him when they were together and not just in a sexual manner. Steve felt like he could be himself with his friend, actually let go, and have some fun without fear that he was using him for his money or status. He would never admit it out loud but he constantly looked for him in other partners but had yet to find anyone… except you. 

No. He told himself long ago that he would never cross that romantic boundary for fear of losing the only true friend he had and now that you were in both their lives he didn’t want to lose you either. Steve would do anything he had to, to make sure he never went back to feeling like he did growing up with his father; worthless and empty. 

Without you two, he knew that would be the outcome. 

Your grip tightened around his hand and his eyes squeezed shut as your pussy quivered around him. As you came, his rhythm faltered as he roughly pounded his release into you. 

Steve panted as he carefully pulled out of you and sat up to lean his back against the couch. When you tried to curl your body around his, he pressed his palm against your chest to stop you making his heart break when your bottom lip started to quiver. 

“D-Did I…did I do something wrong, Sir?”

Eddie blinked as his protective mode promptly kicked in but as he began to lower himself down to the floor to defend you, your hand reached for Steve’s as you rose to your feet.

“Come on, baby. Daddy says aftercare is extremely important and we have a shower with a waterfall setting! It feels so good. Come on. Up, up.”, you reply in a playfully light tone as his amused eyes watch you before doing as you say. 

Your boyfriend slowly trailed behind keeping an eye on you while watching you work your magic. There had been times when he felt low or out of control and you took care of him till his smile returned. 

“Eddie? Everything alright?”, you coo as you place the bag you were holding down and climbed into his lap behind his desk. You knew he wasn’t working because even at home he would wear jeans or slacks to remain in that mindset. Right now, he was in his boxers and one of the comfy t-shirts you bought him with one of his favorite bands across the front. His intense eyes were focused on the computer screen in front of him where multiple pictures were spread out along the desktop. “Your mom was a gorgeous woman.”

Eddie sighs a shaky breath, taking the hand you had resting on his chest, and bringing it to his lips. 

“I like this photo here with you two laying in the grass outside. How old were you?”

“Um…4, I think.”

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember her laugh. The older you get the more memories fade but, for some reason, I’ve never forgotten her laugh.”

“I bet it was beautiful like yours.”

“Pfft.”, Eddie snorts. “My laugh is anything but.”

“Agree to disagree, baby. Then again, my laugh is perfect—”

“Oh, perfect, huh? Sweetheart, you give meaning to the term ‘guffaw’.” That big toothy grin you fell in love with spreads across his face as you prove his point by giggling loudly at his joke. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you to.”, you softly smile as he squeezes you against him. “I brought some burgers and beer. I was thinking we could watch a spooky movie or something.”

“Jesus, you’re perfect.”

“Feels good right?”, you beam up at Steve as he dips his head under the water and closes his eyes. Eddie steps in behind you and dutifully begins to clean you as you run your hands along his friend’s arms and down his chest before his eyes abruptly snap open at the sound of your hiss. “Ow, Daddy.”

“I know, princess. I know.”

Lightly grabbing your bicep, Steve turns you just enough to see Eddie trying to carefully clean between your legs but on his decent down your body grazed your sore, red behind. 

“If you have some aloe moisturizing lotion that will help the marks and, of course, and ice pack.”

“I don’t need ice. It was just the rough rag against my tender skin.” The businessman nods in understanding as his gaze starts to drift before your hands cup his cheeks forcing him to focus on you. “What’s running through your mind, Mr. Harrington? Is it me? Is it cause I called you an asshole?”

Steve smiles, showing you some of his teeth as he shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry I did that.”

As he leans forward, he gently kisses your forehead. 

“I forgive you.”

Once everyone is clean, you hand him your moisturizer and his grin grows as he rubs it along your ass. 

“Did you like it, the spanking? It wasn’t too hard or anything, right?”

“No, Sir, not too hard. I liked it a lot.”

“May I ask you something, honey?” He continues when you nod. “What made you try this with Eddie? Why didn’t you try the submissive thing with any of your other partners?

You can’t help but giggle when your boyfriend growls low in his throat at the mention of “other partners.”

“Honestly…I don’t know. I trust him and I feel safe with him. Eddie’s shown me so many amazing things and when he suggested this…I trusted him.” As you wrap your arms around him, he pulls your head tightly to his chest and kisses the top. “I trust you to, Steve. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

It takes him a couple of moments before he finally releases you so you three could climb into bed. While Steve fell asleep with your back to his chest, Eddie’s fingers gently caressed your face. 

“I really am sorry for neglecting you. I just got so caught up in this new band that I had tunnel vision.”, he whispered. 

“I know, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry I didn’t voice my concerns like I should have. I swear I didn’t realize that guy had his hand on my knee. I was lost in thought thinking about you.” You see him nod in the darkness and you capture his hand to hold it in yours. “He likes us, Eddie…Steve. He likes us a lot but is holding back.”

The man in front of you sighs as he scoots his body a bit closer to yours. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you like him?”

“I love him and I love you but it’s a bit more complicated than that, sweetheart.”

“How so?”

“Steve’s been hurt a lot. Not just by relationships but friends and family as well. He was my best friend first before we shifted into the sexual realm. If he loses me and now you…he feels like he’ll have no one.”

“But we would never hurt him like that.”

“I know. Trust me, I know but this is the way he wants it so I respect that. You know I’m usually straight forward with my feelings? Yeah he may come of that way and plays the role well but truthfully he hides them under the sarcasm and cocky attitude.” After rolling onto his back, he slides closer to you so you can rest your head on his chest. “How do you feel about that? You, me, and Steve being in a relationship.”

“I kind of feel like we already are but then I feel him pull back…”

“Yeah…Maybe when he wakes up we can all talk about it… Get everything out on the table.”

“What if he pushes us away?”

“I’m kinda used to that by now when it comes to him but I don’t want it to hurt you, baby girl. Do you think you could still do our dynamic here with both of us if he didn’t want anything romantic?”

You nodded without any hesitation. 

“Metal.” Eddie smiles when you giggle and tilts your head to kiss your lips. “Get some sleep, baby. I love you.”

“I love you to, Eddie.” Intertwining Steve’s fingers with yours, you bring the back of his hand to your mouth for a soft kiss. “I love you to, Steve.”, you whisper even though you knew he was sleeping. 

You both didn’t see but the businessman’s eyes flutter open.

He didn’t sleep a wink as his mind raced over his insecurities and fears. Occasionally, his thoughts would get lost as he watched Eddie’s chest rise and fall as he breathed. Pressing his nose into your hair, he would inhale your smell and absorb the warmth that was you as he imagined what a relationship with you both would be like. 

Steve saw himself genuinely happy for the first time in a long time and that scared him. 

That morning when you woke up, you rolled over to snuggle your face in his chest only to be met with a pillow and an empty bed where the man had been laying. 

################

@aol19 @livsters @dashingdeb16 @too-efn-old-to-be-here

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[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 0

This is the set-up for Kinktober which I'm doing as a linear narrative.

To be clear, there may be 3 or 4 chapters that don't actually have any kink and are just lil bits of fluff and we all agree to be chill about that.

Each chapter before the cut will have all info required on characters and kinks involved. If there is any non-con this will be in bright red but the instances of this will be few and brief as we are operating on a safe-word system and will have safety measures for if characters ignore safe-wording.

-

This must be what Will Smith’s character felt like at the start of Men In Black. What the hell were you doing here? There were a mix of genders in the room, but the one thing everyone seemed to have in common was confidence coming off of them in waves and that they didn’t look like you. They didn’t look like each other either, but they all looked more likely to have walked off of a modelling set than out of a military base.

You weren’t trained in psyops, but this seemed like it might be something in that department. Why else did so many of these candidates ooze beauty and authority? You shouldn’t bloody be here. The application had been secretive, a form slid over a desk from your superior officer who got it from his who got it from his in a chain with no obvious end. Someone had picked you out for this, and you were starting to think that wasn’t a good thing.

Were the people here higher up the chain than you or at the same level? You try to summon confidence, you’re not exactly some green private at their first training exercise. You’re special fucking forces. Yeah the monsters in the SAS or the SBS are out there slaughtering the bad guys, but they wouldn’t be doing shit without the Signal Regiment. You had to go through 25 weeks of hell to make it in. Just because you’re comms, doesn’t mean you didn’t have to prove conduct after capture or jump out of a damn aeroplane to pass training. And you had already served a year in infantry beforehand.

So you get over yourself and wait for further instructions. You have just as much right to be here as any of them.

The first tests go ahead. Fitness (you don’t fall last in the pack for performance, but you’re lower than the middle), gun handling (solidly middle of the pack), comms (you come first). It’s all suspiciously standard stuff. And then you are all put into an actual scenario.

You go into a room. It reeks of blood and sex and there are 3 people, one unconscious. The woman on the floor has a thick collar around her neck and is in scant lingerie that has very clearly been torn for access. There are bruises littering her body, rope marks embedded into her skin. The two conscious people are a man and a woman. She is screaming at the group to shoot him.

He’s told to get on his knees as the bulk of the group assess him as the bigger threat. You ignore them and go to gently check on the woman on the floor along with another candidate, trusting that the rest will subdue both current threats.

“These marks are pretty consistent with BSDM, not prolonged abuse. And the collar has an emergency quick release they’d be able to operate themselves if they had to” the other candidate says.

You immediately get your own gun trained to the other woman when you glance up and see her totally free from any restraint and in close range to one of the other candidates, a protest coming from one of the men who has went to comfort her.

“Put your gun down, you’re scaring her” he hisses.

“Until we have further information on what is happening here, all suspects should be treated as hostile and questioned.”

You don’t know if you got it right, but it seems wildly irresponsible to just decide that the big man must be the bad guy but she is definitely innocent. Mostly it’s just a strange scenario you’ve been put in, but in the field there can’t be trust for strangers. It’s not a courthouse, everyone is assumed hostile until there is proof to the contrary.

It isn’t resolved, you are all just told the exercise is over. One by one candidates are called into an office until it’s only you left. You’re absently wondering if you want to make ramen for dinner tonight when you are called in. The sinking feeling that you are in over your head hits you full force. You know one of the two people in this room.

Captain John Price, SAS. You’ve spoken with him before (well you’ve rattled off intel to him through a radio before) and you are well aware he is not to be fucked with.

“What did you think of the exercise then?” he asks, both him and the woman sitting behind the desk openly staring at you like predators with their eyes on a tasty morsel.

“I’m not sure what was being tested sir. I reacted as my training encouraged sir.”

“At ease, soldier. A real answer” the woman says and you squash back a reaction to the American accent.

Your shoulders loosen off. It’s not like you applied for whatever this is, so it isn’t any great loss if they’re about to kick you out. You’ve got ramen to get to, another quiet night at home alone to either enjoy or feel bitterly lonely about. It’s a toss up these days which mood will strike when the lack of warmth starts to bite.

“Most of your candidates need to be sent back to basic. They worked on baseless assumptions rather than taking control of the scene and figuring out what had happened once any danger was subdued. That woman could have killed two of them and taken a third hostage in seconds.”

“I agree” the woman says with a smug little smile, “British forces aren’t what they used to be.”

Price laughs.

“Your yanks would have done far worse. You made the right call. The woman on the floor was in a consensual relationship with the man, the marks were received willingly. But since there’d be no way of knowing, both of the threats needed to be removed. Questioning would have sorted out the truth.”

It was a weird fucking exercise to use. What were they testing with that kind of scenario? Implicit gender bias? But then why the kinky angle when they could have removed the casualty entirely and it served the same purpose? The whole thing was starting to make your skin itch as a folder was put on the table in front of you. You caught a nod from the woman and opened it, feeling like you were about to throw up.

“What is this?”

“Insurance. You break NDA and it’s not a court that’s going to crucify you” Price said, almost cheerily as you looked at photos of yourself.

One of them was taken of you sleeping in bed. The next the camera turned to have you in the background in bed while Price took a selfie barely inches from you, smiling for the camera as if he had any right to be there. More photos. Most of you, but some of loved ones. There is a flash of an image in your head, your last moment being the panic of waking up with a wire around your neck. You wouldn’t have broken NDA, but the overkill makes you unbearably curious. How bad is what they are recruiting for if they have to kill anyone who leaks it?

“I understand sir.”

The woman tilted her head as if you had said something interesting. Did the others react badly you wonder? The thing about being special forces signal regiment was that the lengths that the military would go to didn’t surprise you anymore. They created monsters to fight monsters and hid them away in the dark while they paraded out their nice, proper soldiers for the public. Good family men in uniform, advocates for mental health, veterans who were revered as heroes. The special forces were not those men. Captain John Price was certainly not one of those men.

Did you sometimes find it hard to sleep at night? Of course, you helped those monsters even when the line between good and evil was so thoroughly crossed that you wanted to scream at the world and never stop. But without them? Without them everybody would know exactly how cruel people could be because there would be nothing stopping them.

“This is the Kennel” the woman said as a screen behind her came to life.

The schematics were insane the more you drank them in. Underground bunker, recreational facilities and what seemed to be apartments. You would think it would be some rich person’s doomsday bunker if not for the layers of security. The apartments were locked down tight, there were guard posts and an ungodly amount of surveillance. Nobody was getting out of there if these people didn’t want them to.

You had seen plenty of prisons from high end to metal cages in caves. It was your job to get intel, to guide people through rescue missions or escapes. But this was something else.

“You want to build a luxury secure facility?” you asked, feeling the furrow in your brow and the incessant itching of your skin.

The woman clicked a button and the screen changed. Holy shit, they didn’t want to build it because it had already been built. Where the fuck was this? This was big and it must have costs billions, how on earth had you never heard of it? It wasn’t exactly some dingy black site.

“We need them, but this job twists people. Some of them can still keep it under control at home, some just need to stay immediately after a deployment to calm down. There are 6 full time residents right now. Got 5 part timers and 5 who visit when they need. Not all on our side of things.”

“There are tangos in there?”

“Officially nobody is in there, the Kennel doesn’t exist. Unofficially? It’s Switzerland. A rabid dog will bite whoever you point it to.”

You wanted to be outraged, but was this really so different from all the other foul things you knew happened in the background? A luxury blacksite holding the “good” guys and the “bad” guys alike who couldn’t be trusted out in public but who were needed to unleash upon the enemy. This was so fucked up but you imagined that the military did 5 equally as fucked up things before breakfast.

“What is this job exactly?”

Price crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, staring you down and making you feel tiny in that chair.

“Sometimes the best place you can be to keep the world safe is on your back.”

“Excuse me?”

He was not implying what you thought he was surely. It was just unfortunate phrasing.

“Just an expression, I imagine only a few of them would want you on your back. Think at least half would enjoy you on your knees.”

You held his stare, determined to wait him out. He was fucking with you. This was some bizarre test and you had no idea how you were supposed to respond.

“He’s asking you to play bitch for his dogs soldier. They get out of hand when they can’t rut” the woman said as if that cleared things up.

“I didn’t figure out anything about the whole BDSM thing or whatever it was during that exercise. It was the other guy. I don’t do any of that stuff.”

They ignored you.

“It’s a month-long contract to see if it improves their behaviour. After that you are free to do whatever you want with a shiny promotion and enough money that you can retire to Hawaii with a glowing record and military honours if you’d prefer” the woman started.

“All you have to do is take whatever they want to give you. No safewords, you can’t stop it once you start” Price finished.

“No.”

“Not even going to consider the offer?” Price asked, almost eager.

“I’m not considering an offer that actively puts me in an unsafe situation with no way to get out.”

“Told you Kate.”

You wanted to be out of this fucking office already. You thought about what previous attempts might have looked like. Sex workers who were thrown in with monsters and torn to shreds. Maybe ones who begged to leave but got assassinated the moment they got home and started talking. Because this wasn’t sex work, it was a military operation. A civilian was never going to survive that situation, not with the kind of monsters you imagined the Kennel held.

“You know why the soldier who knew all about BDSM failed?” Price asked, closer than you remembered him being. “He said yes. Agreed to the terms. I’ve got no time for someone who can’t take care of themselves and is going to get eaten alive within the first 24 hours because they were too eager to please to say no. They try break you? You safeword and I come in and break them.”

There was something in the back of your mind somewhere that found the offer grotesquely appealing. You thought it unlikely they would take you once you told them you were a virgin. It just sort of happened, you didn’t know how to meet people and you were now at an age where the pressure felt insurmountable. Did you tell that to someone on a first date? Did you not tell them and they go too hard and hurt you? What if you couldn’t even do it properly?

This would be work. This would be a military operation that allowed assets to be used rather than put down if it was successful. You’d be getting used, but maybe you wouldn’t be lonely.

It was the negotiations that did you in. The warm hand of Price on your shoulder while he explained aftercare procedure. Some of them would do it themselves, but some they’d probably need to drag off of you and then Price himself would take over. If he wasn’t available for any reason, Kate would.

They framed it like it was a heroic pursuit. These people were broken, they needed someone to start patching up the cracks. Your virginity it transpired was an asset given that they knew just the person who would look after you for your first session. Someone in the Kennel had a sizable virginity kink and you were assured it was one of the part-timers who wasn’t prone to extreme violence the way the residents were. You’d get an info pack with details the day before.

The final nail in the coffin that had you signing the dotted line was Price (deliberately you realised quickly once you got a moment to breathe) mentioning Soap. You knew him. Not in person, but you had talked him through diffusing a bomb before. He had flirted up a storm and his warmth over that radio even when he was seconds from dying at any given point had stuck with you for weeks. It was only a month. You just had to do this for a month.

October 1st you would lose your virginity in a bunker that didn’t exist to a soldier you didn’t know, one who needed you to stop them from fully becoming a monster. Fuck.

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am.  PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday. 

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact. 

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember. 

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time. 

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way. 

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward. 

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not? 

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

 thanks. Hope you like them. 

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock. 

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself. 

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that. 

Like how he saw you. Captured you. 

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly. 

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you. 

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee. 

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways. 

They’re just, well…practice. 

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be. 

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall. 

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply. 

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him. 

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her. 

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly. 

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped. 

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple. 

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious. 

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor. 

Your realness. 

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time. 

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call. 

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked. 

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance. 

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot. 

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine. 

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base. 

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water. 

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?” 

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop. 

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool. 

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.”  He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?” 

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates. 

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot. 

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall. 

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it. 

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker. 

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm. 

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost. 

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room. 

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway. 

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner. 

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit. 

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine. 

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it. 

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.” 

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod. 

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on.  Should’ve thought of that, sorry.” 

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.” 

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes. 

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle. 

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity. 

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details. 

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job. 

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front. 

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks. 

“Yep.” 

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence. 

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land. 

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm. 

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign. 

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.” 

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to. 

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.” 

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs. 

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?” 

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo. 

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself. 

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile. 

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box. 

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified. 

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it. 

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view. 

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher. 

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks. 

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot.  Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked. 

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more. 

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth. 

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it. 

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence. 

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business. 

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more. 

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy. 

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet. 

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.” 

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish. 

4:37pm. 

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place. 

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up. 

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago. 

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures. 

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results. 

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point. 

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.  

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand. 

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can. 

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice,  and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight. 

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says. 

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card. 

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe. 

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face. 

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you. 

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply. 

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality. 

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm. 

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes. 

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day. 

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.  

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought. 

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp. 

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own. 

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world. 

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.” 

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special. 

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?” 

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is. 

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever. 

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention. 

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life. 

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.” 

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else. 

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have. 

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.  

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you. 

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what?  How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending. 

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride. 

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together. 

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie. 

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts. 

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground. 

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches. 

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale. 

14% battery. 

4:07am. 

Shit, he fell asleep. 

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed. 

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you? 

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season. 

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form. 

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.  

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to. 

Desperately. 

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms. 

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you. 

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process. 

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble. 

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’ 

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story. 

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed. 

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores. 

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table. 

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage. 

There’s a large number of unread texts. 

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too. 

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed. 

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice.  SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close. 

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast. 

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay. 

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside. 

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly. 

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake. 

Gross. 

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.” 

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer. 

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this. 

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically. 

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel. 

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch. 

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest. 

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.” 

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap. 

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can. 

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again. 

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second? 

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened. 

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time. 

Chapter Nine: TBR

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (4/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Green, blue and red lights light up the entire place, there´s so much noise you can barely hear Chan and Han over the music, and the smoke machines uncomfortably fill your lungs, but none of that is enough to keep your thoughts away from the ones your heart yearns for.

Yeah, the last couple of weeks had been better, you had stopped drowning in your tears and the insomnia that had accompanied you every night for the last weeks seemed to finally abandon your side, but their presence remained there, stuck to your head, leaching off your pain, as if it was determined to not let you forget. Were they okay? Had they moved on? Did they even care?

Your mind kept going back to simpler times, memories of what once had been the strongest relationship you had ever been in.

The bed was a mess, sheets ruffled next to the TV, clothes were scattered everywhere, pillows laid under your knees so you wouldn’t get hurt while you rode Mingi, hips moving up and down without rhythm, desperate to reach that sweet release, but every single time you were close Yunho grabbed your hips firmly stopping your movements.

“You are not allowed to cum baby, not until Mingi does first.” You tried to focus on the man in front of you, blush covering his cheeks, his mouth was barely opened, small moans and groans kept escaping out of his throat, eyes clouded with pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed every time you went down his cock, lips swollen and pink from all the kissing. Mingi was the most sinful image you had ever seen, and you were desperate to make him feel good.

“Please, please, Yunho, please let me cum.” You threw your head back, licking your lips, your knees were cramping, but stopping would be so much worse, “I’ve been a good girl.”

“No, I don’t care how good it feels, you are not allowed to cum.” His fingers traced a path down your body, caressing and massaging your neck, making their way through your breasts pinching your nipples and twisting them, next was your sternum, your stomach, till they finally ended in your core. Two of them framed Mingi’s cock while he was still inside you. “Come on, baby. You can do better than that, you are barely moving.” He took you by the chin with his other hand, straightening your view, “Don’t you want our Princess to feel good?”

Mingi’s eyes were covered in tears, his breathing heavy and his cheeks strawberry red, his hands grabbing your hips helping you move faster, “Please, love, please make me cum.” You couldn’t resist. No matter how much your thighs were crying, no matter how sore you’d be tomorrow, you were determined.

“Good job, baby. You are such a good girl.” Yunho whispered in your ear, while kissing your shoulders, leaving small bite marks on them.

And not so happy times.

Mingi’s phone was going crazy. Texts and calls from the office kept coming up, distracting him from the task he was currently performing. His head was in between your legs, his lips and tongue messily lapping up at your core, fingers hastily going and out of you; and physically he was there with you, mentally you knew he was only thinking about work. Your fiancé was usually so good at making you come with his mouth, but right now you barely even felt good, his tongue was not good enough knowing he wasn’t there with you.

“Mingi, please, they can wait for a little while.” You begged him, caressing his headlocks, trying to bring him back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just make this quick, I don’t want to piss off Jongho.” He was talking about it as if it was a chore, or another job, that did it for you.

You closed your legs and sat down immediately, pushing him away, “Never mind. Go and take care of whatever it is.” You put on your robe, leaving to go to the bathroom. He didn't even try to stop you.

There, you looked at yourself in the mirror, full-on makeup done, your hair styled and a set of lingerie (you had spent more than an hour trying to figure out how to put it on), you had outdone yourself so one of them would notice you, so one of them would want you like you wanted them, but of course, everything else was more important, more urgent. You felt your relationship hanging by a threat, and they had no clue.

.

You had been weak a couple of days ago, not being able to sleep, you decided to do something to appease the anxiety that had been running through your veins for hours.

“Hello?” A groggy voice responded from the other side.

You gulped down, already regretting your decision, “Hey, Hongjoong?”

You heard ruffling, and his voice got clearer, “Oh my god Y/n, is that you? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. Um… listen, um…” You couldn’t bring yourself to ask, too scared of the way he might react.

“You want to know how they are doing, don't you?”

You stayed quiet, the lump in your throat made it impossible for anything to come out.

“Well, it took almost a week for us to know you had left, neither of them said anything until Jongho went to your apartment wanting to know why Mingi wasn’t answering his phone or showing up to work. But the first time I saw them they were a wreck, the house was a complete mess, both of them sleeping in different rooms, Yunho barely came home and Mingi wouldn’t leave it. They looked so sick I almost didn’t recognize them, pale, heavy eyebags, and the smell, ugh the smell.” He chuckled sadly, shaking his head at the thought, “I had never seen them like that.”

“You must hate me.” You whispered tears threatening to slip out of your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them, you were just so tired of that.

“At first, I was confused, I didn’t know what was happening or why, but they explained everything and I couldn’t blame you. I wasn’t happy to see them like that, but I knew you must not have been any better.”

“Yeah.”

…

“So, how’s Chan been?”

You stuttered not knowing what to say.

“Oh Y/n we’ve been friends since middle school, you think I wouldn't know? Hell, I don’t even know how it hasn’t crossed their mind, you always go back to Chan.”

“Nothing’s going on with him.”

“I never said it was.”

You pulled on the thin skin of your lips, tearing it apart, slowly the taste of iron covered your tongue; your heart was beating a thousand miles per second and you ran out of things to say. Hongjoong kept telling you about them, how things had been in their friend group, and everyone’s reactions, it didn’t do much to soothe your fragile muscle, but at least it was something.

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to face them, Y/n.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

.

A pair of fingers kept snapping in front of your face, Han called your name repeatedly, “Y/n, Y/n, oh my god Y/n,” Snap, snap, snap, “Jesus, Y/n snap out of it already.”

You shook your head, your eyes focusing on the cherry-checked boy. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about… work.”

His eyes narrowed, looking at you incredulously, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say babe. Chan went to the bar to get us some shots.”

“Great.”

“What's going on with you? An hour ago, you were so excited to go out, and now look at you.”

“It’s nothing Jisung…” He cut you off

“Oh, you can't fool me, Y/n. I know what you are thinking about, who you are thinking about. You need a distraction, something to help you move on.”

“Is not that easy.”

“I know, believe me I know, but maybe a little push will help you.”

“Help as in therapy?”

“Mmm, I was thinking for more like a good fuck.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with shame, “Han, what the fuck?”

“Oh, as if you don’t miss getting dicked down, you went from two dicks to zero in a second, I can’t imagine being that starved.” He giggled taking a sip from his beer.

“I'm not having this conversation with you.” You pushed him away, shaking your head and laughing.

“Right, because you can tell me all about how Yunho’s dick is the biggest you’ve ever had or how Mingi’s head game is so good he almost made you pass out, but this is where you draw the line. Common Y/n, you are not doing anything wrong, you are a gorgeous, single woman, it’s only natural to get back into the game.”

A single woman. You haven’t been one in years. It felt so wrong to think of yourself as one, but it is what it is.

“How about Chan?”

You were taken back, not believing what came out of Jisung’s mouth. “You cannot be serious.”

“Why not? He’s hot, you guys used to do it all the time, it’s not like he’s a stranger.”

“Yeah, back in college, I haven’t looked at Chan in that way in years.”

“You are full of shit. You think I didn't see you back at his apartment? You were practically fucking him with your eyes, he looks good and you know it.”

  Your cheeks got impossibly red, making your muscles hurt, “I did not…”

“You did, and that’s okay. Give yourself a chance, love. You never know what might happen.

The thought of actually doing it crossed your mind, could you do it? Could you let yourself into another's arms while someone else was on your mind?

Chan appeared with two handfuls of shot glasses, walking slowly towards your table, “I think I might have overestimated how much we can drink.”

“Oh, this is nothing, remember how much we used to drink back then? I don’t remember half the parties I went to.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Besides, we are older Hannie, I don’t think we can do it.” You said looking at all the alcohol in front of you.

“We can always try.” He said taking his first shot.

____________________________________________

“Han is your husband.”

“Yes Jeong, you were at our wedding against my will. What about it?” Minho’s eyes stayed firm on the road.

“I just can’t help but wonder how such a pure, innocent and gentle soul ended up with the devil?”

Minho grinned, shaking his head, “I like to think we balance each other out.” The car took a turn, “But I could ask you the same thing, what is the human embodiment of a cupcake doing with Dr Jeong biggest asshole in the neurology department Yunho, and well, Mingi.”

“Well, for one I'm not always an asshole,” Yunho chuckled, “and the rest was pure luck I guess.”

“I think she’d beg to differ.” The cat-eyed doctor looked at him for the first time since the ride started, “What happened anyways?

An uncomfortable silence filled the car, Yunho sighed and let his head rest against the car window.

“I got too much into my head, and so did Mingi. Work was killing me, bills began piling up and I couldn’t do much, so I started working double shifts, taking small jobs here and there. Mingi’s clients needed lots of things at the same time, they lost a case, I don’t know, I guess everything got too hectic too quickly. We would leave early in the morning, I wouldn’t come home for days, and Mingi would arrive late at night. We both were so stressed but couldn’t do anything about it, it bottled up.” His voice was cracking up, barely able to continue, “We just never stopped, we never noticed how badly we were neglecting her until it was too late.” He paused, letting out a sob, “One day, I came home, just a quick stop to take a shower and say hi, the second I stepped foot I knew something was wrong. She had taken all her things; her ring was right on the bed.” He shut his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows, remembering the scene, “My whole world came crashing down, Minho. I have never felt so much pain.”

“Yeah, been there done that.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him confused.

“You aren’t the only one who’s a workaholic.” Minho took a deep breath, “Back in college things between Han and me were not so good, we were always fighting, always so hostile and short with each other. I’ll admit it was mostly my fault, school got worse each day, I was struggling to keep my scholarship, my job at the café, Jisung; competing against you the entire time didn’t help.”

“Hey, man you did that to yourself, I showed up the first day of school and I already had a rival, and I’ll admit I liked the competition until you started being a real asshole to me and till this day I have yet to know why you hate me so much. At first, I thought it was because I’m just a better doctor, but…” He said with humour before Lee cut him off.

“You are not a better doctor than me, you dick.” The older doctor said, “I was taking the piss when we were students, it used to motivate me, but I didn’t hate you because of that, I just didn’t like you, but I don’t hate you.”

“Because…”

Minho gulped, was it his place to say it? “Back then…”

“Back then when Chan and Y/n were a thing?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused and shocked, “Wait, you knew about it?”

“Oh, it was obvious, Chan hated us the second he met us, I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence, also your husband tends to spill out his brain when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah, that’s Jisung for you.” He said while shaking his head and smiling, the thought of his drunk husband warmed his heart. “I almost lost him back then. One day, in the middle of a discussion, he told me he was done with my bullshit, he was tired of me taking him for granted and never being there. In the beginning, I thought it was just another argument, and that things would go back to normal in a couple of days, but after a week I knew I was wrong. I felt like an idiot for waiting an entire week, he didn’t want to see me, I tried everything, and even Y/n hated me, it took me months to gain back his trust. There were times when I thought I was just too little, too late, that he would never take me back, and thank god he did, I don’t know what I would have done if he didn’t.”

“Is that why you are helping us?”

“I don’t like you, Yunho, that I’ll admit, but I know you are not a bad guy, neither is the other guy, and I know you love her. I get what’s like to lose yourself and everything you have, in a second.”

____________________________________________

Your hips swayed at the rhythm of the music, you let yourself go and try to forget. You deserve it. Jisung was next to you, dancing drunkenly, giggling and saying a bunch of random stuff you could barely understand. One second you saw him pointing at something behind him and the next one he was gone. You were left alone with Christopher.

“Are you having a good time?” He whispered in your ear, dangerously close to you. When had he gotten so close?

“Yeah, are you?”

“I think I had too many shots.” He giggled. Yeah, he was so drunk.

“Me too.” You laughed along.

You kept dancing next to each other, occasionally getting pushed by the rest of the crown on the dance floor, with every step you came closer, and before you knew it, your chest pressed against his. Slowly move your hips against each other, his hands grabbed your hips, and your head rested against his skin. You didn’t dare look up, you knew what would happen and you didn’t know if you were ready for that, or even if your head was in the right place for that; yet, you still had an itch for it.

And as if Chan was reading your mind, he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you look him straight in the eyes. So many moments and memories flood your mind, blurred scenes of your “relationship” back in college, could you go back to that?

His face came closer, and his lips whispered your name against yours. And once again, you let yourself go.

Everything happened so quickly, that your head could not register what was going on. A hand had grabbed yours, pulling you roughly, making you crash into someone, Chan looked upset and confused. You turned around and saw him, his eyes were furious, you could see his lips moving but didn't understand anything that was coming out of them. Those lips that you had been missing for months, those eyes that appeared in your dreams again and again.

“Yunho?”

____________________________________________

Taglist:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 3

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Kate is excited and there's a photoshoot. And lots of gay pining and panicking. Mostly on Wanda's end.

content warnings: Vision being a weirdo

word count: 4.5k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Kate is elated. 

She’s almost too excited. Wanda finds it suspicious, and narrows her eyes as her roommate starts speaking quickly, her voice high and her words stumbling against each other in her haste to speak. 

“What was she doing in town? Wait, never mind I don’t really care. She totally came to see you!” Her excited voice blares through the speakers on Wanda’s phone. 

Wanda is in the stock room while Carol is in charge of the front of the store, attempting to count inventory while her mind replays every second of Ms. Romanoff’s visit an hour ago. She had shot off a quick text to Kate, asking if she’d like a personal photoshoot with the CEO, and her roommate had immediately called her, burning with questions. 

“I mean, no fucking way it was just a coincidence that she happened to stop by the only store in town that you work in. You don’t think that was on purpose?”

“She said she was visiting some department for research,” Wanda says, setting the pen down on her clipboard as Kate clucks her tongue on the other end of the line. She didn’t know why her heart sank slightly at the thought, cursing her excitement at the prospect of Ms. Romanoff purposely coming into town to see her. 

“Oh, that’s right. She’s giving the renewable energy research facility a 3 million dollar grant.” Kate’s voice cracks over the speaker slightly, and Wanda feels her eyes go wide. 

“How do you know that?”

“Dude, my job is literally chief editor for the University newspaper, keep up.”

“Oh,” Wanda shakes her head. That makes sense. She must be really out of it, distracted by Ms. Romanoff’s impromptu shopping trip. She changes the subject. “So do you want the photos of her then?”

Kate’s high-pitched screech sounds out, and Wanda jerks the phone away from her ear as the sound reverberates in her eardrum. She winces, making out the words Kate is yelling. 

“Of fucking course I want the photos. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Wands!! Ms. Romanoff never lets anyone take photos of her, and this would be a private photoshoot. We could have hundreds of personalized photos of her, do you know how rare that is?”

“Okay, okay,” Wanda laughs, hearing Kate’s harsh breathing sound out as she catches her breath. “We just have to figure out who is going to take them, and where.”

“Where do you think Ms. Romanoff would want to do the photoshoot? Like, will she judge us if it’s in some warehouse?” Kate asks, her voice starting to get more high-pitched. 

Wanda knows what that means. Her roommate is overthinking, and her hands are probably shaking as her mind runs a mile a minute. 

“We can ask her about a location, since she’s staying in the area.” Wanda’s voice is soft, and she hears Kate’s breathing calm slightly. It’s a start. 

“How would we ask her?”

“Well,” Wanda starts, hesitating slightly. She hears Kate moving around, probably busying herself with cleaning to release some anxiety over the situation. “I can just… text her and ask?”

“She gave you her number?” Kate’s voice is incredulous and bordering on hysterical. “The most elusive, most desired, hottest, eligible single woman in Seattle gave you her fucking number?”

“Um… yes.”

“Oh my god, Wanda. She’s totally into you, anybody can see it.”

“Kate, no,” Wanda protests, “She was just trying to be nice.”

As she says the words, Wanda knows that they’re false. Ms. Romanoff being nice? To some random girl who tripped through her multi-million dollar quartz doorway? Absolutely not. There had to be a reason why she was giving Wanda so much attention. Her heart stutters, filling with happiness at the thought. 

“We can ask Vision to take the photos, he’d do just about anything for you.” Kate’s voice grounds her to the present moment. 

Wanda feels her body shudder. She didn’t really have anything against the tall, nerdy blonde. He was nice, and in a few of her classes with her. But, he would always stand too close to her or would find any excuse he could to talk with her. His interest in her was noticeable and no matter how many times Wanda had hinted at her sexuality, he just didn’t seem to understand her disinterest in him. 

Honestly, she was one creepy, lingering look away from making a giant banner with the words, ‘I’m a lesbian!’ painted across it in pink glitter. 

Still, she had to admit that he was talented with a camera. 

“Fine, I’ll call him. I think you should call Ms. Romanoff. After all, it’s your article.”

“No way, you’re the one she wants.”

Wanda blinked at that, letting the thought warm her for a moment. Then, she shook her head. “You’re being ridiculous, I barely know her.”

“Out of the two of us, you’re the one who’s met her. And you’re the one she’s purposely sought out, so you’re calling her. Don’t argue with me on this.” Kate’s voice is firm, the click of her hanging up the phone surprising Wanda.

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Wanda pulled out the business card Ms. Romanoff had given her. Her eyes traced over the curves of the woman’s name, memorizing the phone number on the back as she felt herself start to smile. God, she felt almost giddy. It felt like she was back in high school, with a crush on a cheerleader who’d smiled at her in the hallways. 

“So, how do you know her?” Carol’s voice sounded out, her tone suggesting that she was attempting to be nonchalant. It wasn’t working very well. 

Wanda jumped, her heart rate spiking as she guiltily slipped the business card back into her pocket. Turning, she saw Carol setting down a box before the woman turned to her with curious eyes. She didn’t have to ask who Carol was referring to. 

“I had to interview her for Kate’s newspaper,” Wanda says, and her casual tone sounds just as forced as Carol’s. “She was sick so I went for her.”

“Impressive,” Carol muses, lingering in the doorway. “I can’t believe Natasha Romanoff was in my store. Valkyrie is going to be insanely jealous.”

She smiles widely at the thought, before seeming to remember where she was. “Listen, a few customers came in, so I could really use your help out there.”

“Right,” Wanda says, picking up her inventory clipboard. “I’ll be out soon, give me two minutes.”

She can practically feel the burning weight of Ms. Romanoff’s card in her pocket, and takes a deep breath. Maybe she can recite some poetry in her head to get rid of the ever-present replays of their meeting from earlier that day. Looking at the clock, Wanda despairs slightly. 

Only three more hours of her shift, then she can go home and study without thinking about the redhead at all. Not even a little bit.

—

“Wanda, you know my style,” Vision’s voice crackles slightly over the speaker, a whining sort of quality to his tone. Kate rolls her eyes from where she’s listening in on the conversation. “I only shoot places, not people.”

“Oh my god dude,” Kate says, ripping the phone from Wanda’s hands. She gladly lets her roommate take control of the situation, her stomach churning with every word that Visions speaks. “If you don’t do this for us, the newspaper won’t cover the opening of your show. Do you understand now?” 

There's a beat, a moment of silence that stretches too long to be comfortable. Vision speaks, “Fine. Send me the details once you have them and I’ll be there.”

“Awesome, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kate says, and hangs up the phone before Vision can say anything else. “Your turn, call Ms. Romanoff.”

Wanda blinks, still processing the conversation with Vision. 

“What, now?”

“Yes, now. If I don’t sit here with you, you’ll never call. I know what you’re like with making phone calls. I’ll even hold your hand if you want,” Kate says, reaching across the couch with exaggerated grabby hands as Wanda chuckles and slaps her fingers lightly. 

Taking out the card, Wanda traces the familiar shape of Ms. Romanoff’s name before dialing the number from memory. It wasn’t that hard to remember, especially since she’d been repeating it subconsciously in her head for the past few hours. Her stomach twists, doing a funny sort of fluttery motion as the dial tone rings. 

She answers on the second ring, her voice clipped and calm. It’s slightly raspy, and Wanda feels her chest grow warm. 

“Romanoff.”

“Oh, um… Ms. Romanoff? This is Wanda. Uh, Maximoff. Wanda Maximoff. You gave me your card earlier?”

“That I did,” she says, and Wanda can hear the smile in her voice. “It’s good to hear from you, Ms. Maximoff.”

Her tone has changed, warmth flowing through the phone. She sounds pleased and almost surprised. Wanda is acutely aware of the way her face is slowly flushing with each low, raspy word Ms. Romanoff speaks. Kate watches, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Wanda’s pink cheeks. 

Standing, Wanda waves her hands in Kate’s direction in an unspoken order to ‘fuck off’, before making her way towards the kitchen for some fresh air. They’d propped the window open earlier, and Wanda eagerly breathes in the smell of freshly fallen leaves as she scrambles for something to say.

“We found a photographer,” she blurts out, before smacking a hand against her forehead. “For the photoshoot tomorrow. That is, if you still want to do a photoshoot. I didn’t mean to assume. Does that work for you, ma’am?”

Wanda can feel herself cringe slightly as the words spew from her traitorous mouth. 

“Ma’am? That’s new… I’m staying at the Hilton in town, does 9:30 work?” Ms. Romanoff asks, and Wanda can hear the amusement in each syllable. The woman’s slow smile practically seeps through the phone, and Wanda pushes down the giddy feeling erupting within her. 

“Yes, of course,” she feigns nonchalance, her voice too high-pitched to be convincing. “We’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it, Ms. Maximoff,” she says, and Wanda can visualize the way her dark green eyes are glinting. She envisions the corners of her mouth turning up into that secret smile she had given Wanda earlier, and shakes her head quickly, returning to the present moment. 

“So do I,” Wanda manages to say, before she quickly hangs up the phone, practically slamming it down on the counter and staring at the screen like she’s expecting the circuits to light on fire. 

“Wow,” Kate’s voice sounds out, her tone a slow drawl. “You’re totally blushing, dude. Admit it, you like her.”

Whirling around, Wanda opens her mouth to respond. She stutters, the words of denial fading quickly as she registers the way her heart is beating quickly and the excitement and butterflies building within her at the prospect of seeing Ms. Romanoff the next morning.

Well, fuck. 

“Oh, come on. She has a million other things to worry about. She’s not focused on some college student who interviewed her. And it’s not a crush… I just find her intimidating.” Wanda can’t tell if she’s trying to convince Kate or herself, and based on the way her roommate raises her eyebrows, she’s not easily swayed. 

“Sure,” Katre says, her gaze pointedly glancing towards Wanda’s reddening cheeks. “I’ll arrange the photoshoot and give my manager a call.”

“I’ll make us supper, how does spaghetti sound?” Wanda asks, jumping at the opportunity for a subject change. Kate agrees, her knowing gaze telling Wanda that she’s aware of her tactic, but thankfully her roommate drops the subject.

That night, Wanda dreams of cinnamon and dark red hair, the weight of warm fingers against her skin, and a raspy voice echoing around her. She wakes up twice, burying her head in the pillow as she scolds her overactive brain for thinking too much. 

She just has to get through this photoshoot, then she can bury the thoughts of Natasha Romanoff somewhere deep inside her brain. 

—

The Hilton stands out among the other buildings, the white-washed stone a beacon of wealth. Wanda tries her best to not raise her eyebrows too far, but Kate doesn’t seem to care as she cranes her neck to look up at the building. The boys in the back, Vision and Paul, seem interested as well, and Vision winces as Paul leans over him to press his face against the window. 

“Damn, so she’s like really fucking rich, huh?” Paul asks, and Wanda internally scoffs. 

She’d looked up Ms. Romanoff’s net worth the night before, her eyes wide and her ice cream forgotten and melting in her bowl as she stared at the numbers on her screen. She’d found herself in a rabbit hole of research, if that’s what you could call it. She mostly just looked up any information she could find about the woman, her public records limited and her photos mainly sourced from various exclusive interviews. 

“Yeah,” Wanda muttered, “I guess so.”

Kate had managed to book a room in the Hilton, typically used for receptions. She’d struggled for a while, her call being transferred to various departments until she’d finally uttered the name Romanoff. After that, it was easy to book a room, free of charge. 

When they arrive, a nervous, young-looking man guides them towards the room. Vision lags behind, carrying his camera and equipment. Wanda pays him no mind, aside from the occasional forced smile in his direction. He’d been trying to talk to her in the car and not-so-subtly imply that they should go out on a date, but luckily Kate and Paul had redirected the conversation to much safer topics. 

The nervous man opens the doors to their rented room, Kate’s casual confidence shining as she directs Vision and Paul toward the back wall. They have about twenty minutes left to set up, and Wanda eagerly accepts Kate’s order to ask the hotel management for refreshments. 

Setting up the finger sandwiches and water cups is easy, and Wanda finds herself relaxing at the monotonous act as she watches the minute hand on the clock creep closer to 9:30. She stiffens when the scent of cheap aftershave reaches her nose, Vision’s lanky frame filling her vision as he leans against the refreshment table. 

“So, you went and interviewed this woman,” he says, leaning in. “Is it true that she’s really a lesbian?”

Furrowing her brows, Wanda opens her mouth to respond. To say.. something clever. Vision beats her to it, his eyes glancing down at her chest too many times to be a mistake. “I bet she hooks up with some really hot women, I wish I could photograph that instead.”

“Oh, maybe we shouldn’t talk about her private life-”

“Also, I was wondering…” Vision cuts her off before he straightens, his eyes glancing over Wanda’s shoulder. 

Wanda senses Ms. Romanoff’s presence before she sees or hears the woman. She watches Kate’s eyes go wide, her eyes flicking over to her as excitement fills her features. Turning slowly, Wanda nearly chokes on her own saliva as she takes in the woman before her. 

Ms. Romanoff is dressed in the most expensive-looking clothing Wanda has ever seen in person. Her cream-colored dress pants hug her in all the right places, and Wanda has to wrench her gaze upwards before she’s caught staring for too long. The white, silk shirt isn’t much better for her steadily-increasing inappropriate thoughts. Wanda blushes when Ms, Romanoff turns, the light catching her shirt just right to show the abdominal muscles flexing through the thin fabric. 

Forcing her eyes further up, Wanda feels a shiver run through her at the look in Ms. Romanoff’s eyes. At first glance, her dark-green gaze looks to be impassive, cold even. But Wanda notices the way her eyes are slightly crinkled in the corners, a private smile meant only for her. The woman’s eyes darken slightly and flicker down towards Wanda’s outfit, lingering just a half-second too long at her chest. She doesn’t mind, Ms. Romanoff’s gaze is comforting rather than off-putting.

“Ms. Romanoff,” Kate says, and Wanda immediately feels the loss of her heady gaze on her. “So lovely to finally meet you, I’m Kate Bishop.”

She holds her hand out, and Ms. Romanoff shakes it. It seems firm, and Wanda finds herself wishing that she could feel the woman's soft skin against her own. She wonders if her handshake is firm, and looks down at the floor as a hot, jealous feeling arises within her as Kate starts directing the woman towards the backdrop Vision and Paul had set up. 

Vision starts to say something, his fingers uselessly gesturing toward a spot against the backdrop. Ms. Romanoff ignores his stammering request, focusing on Kate as she directs the woman into position. Dark green eyes flicker towards Wanda, a sort of curiosity in them. 

“Wanda,” she says, a single finger beckoning her closer. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. About the poses?” Wanda asks, the woman’s hot gaze trapping her in place. She feels her feet start moving towards the backdrop, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she feels her heart begin to race. 

“Yes,” Ms. Romanoff replies, tilting her head thoughtfully. “You're the only one here who's spoken to me before. So, you know me best. What pose do you think would capture me?” 

Wanda blinks, her mind blanking. She remembers the way Ms. Romanoff had leaned forward during her interview, her forearms exposed from her rolled-up sleeves as she regarded Wanda with intent eyes. 

“Roll up your sleeves,” Wanda says without thinking, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks at Ms. Romanoff’s amused, raised eyebrow. Kate glances back at her, a slightly proud smirk playing out on her lips before she turns back towards the CEO. 

Maintaining eye contact, Ms. Romanoff slowly unbuttons her sleeves, rolling them up with precision that speaks to years of practice. Her gaze is heavy, and Wanda feels the air around her grow hot as her heart rate picks up to a dangerous speed.

“Anything else?” 

Goddammit. Ms. Romanoff’s voice is low, her slight rasp sending Wanda’s mind spiraling into an unknown, fuzzy headspace. She suddenly has the urge to step closer to the woman, needing to be in her space.

Oh, those hands. Those fucking hands. Wanda watches the woman finish rolling up her sleeves, those hands resting casually over her knees with her fingers curled slightly. There are gold bracelets and fingers decorating the woman’s wrists and fingers, and Wanda has a sudden vision of Ms. Romanoff slowly taking all of her jewelry off. She’s well aware of the other three people in the room, one of them her roommate and the other a boy who is borderline obsessed with her. She doesn’t really care. Not when Ms. Romanoff’s attention is fully on her. 

“Lean forward,” Wanda says, biting her bottom lip. Green eyes track the movement, darkening slightly. “Lean on your elbows and look at the camera through your eyebrows. Then slowly tilt your head up until you’re looking dead set at the camera. Give us the barest hint of a smile.”

She turns to Vision, her eyes lighting up in excitement as he starts fiddling with the setting on his camera. “Make sure you get plenty of pictures as she’s slowly tilting her head up. This way, we get plenty of different expressions and angles.”

Vision nods, smiling at her. Wanda shudders, his blinding teeth throwing her off. 

Looking back at Ms. Romanoff, Wanda takes in the woman’s furrowed brows as those captivating green eyes glance between her and Vision. She suddenly has the urge to distance herself further from Vision, and steps closer to Kate. 

“Perfect,” Kate says, clapping her hands once. Wanda fights the urge to jerk at the abrupt sound. Paul startles, dropping one of the finger sandwiches. 

Vision takes several photographs, the click of the shutter sounding out as Wanda watches the woman intently. Ms. Romanoff seems to slip into a role, her expression professional and practiced as she assumes many different poses, her forearms exposed artfully in each one. 

The photoshoot is over before Wanda has fully processed seeing Ms. Romanoff, her mind replaying the closeness of the woman when she visited her store. The sight of those eyes is burned into her brain, the dark green color ingraining itself into Wanda’s memory. The faint scent of cinnamon wafts near her, and she feels lightheaded with need. 

Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with her. 

“Ms. Maximoff.” The words are commanding, and Wanda focuses. Ms. Romanoff is standing, her eyes focused on Wanda. “Will you walk with me?”

“Of course,” Wanda murmurs, ignoring the look and subtle thumbs up that Kate sends her. 

Walking quickly, Ms, Romanoff pulls the door open smoothly and holds it open for her. Her eyes are intent on Wanda, her hand just barely brushing her waist as she slides past her through the open door. 

The silence isn’t overwhelming, instead, it’s rather comfortable. Wanda is well aware of the woman beside her and fights the urge to look over at the way Ms. Romanoff’s hair curls gently over her shoulders.

“Would you join me for coffee?”

“What, now?” The words are out of Wanda’s mouth before she can think, and she blushes at Ms. Romanoff’s amused glance. 

“Yes, Ms. Maximoff. Now. I’ve been recommended a coffee shop just down the road.”

Wanda blinks. Is this… a date? Is Ms. Romanoff really asking her out? On a date? 

“Yes,” Ms. Romanoff says, drawing out the syllables. “This would be a date.”

Fuck. Wanda hadn’t realized that she’d said that part out loud. She almost says yes. God, she wants to, but she’d forgotten one crucial detail. 

“I have to drive everyone back.”

“Hmm,” Ms, Romanoff doesn’t look pleased. She turns to the side and waves a hand sharply at a man standing nearby. He’s dressed in a sharp suit and snaps to attention. “Taylor, can you drive the photographer, the assistant, and Ms. Bishop home?”

“Of course Ma’am.”

Wanda feels her eyebrows steadily rising in disbelief as the man steps into the room they’d just left. Of course, Ms. Romanoff had a personal driver. She probably had a chef and a housemaid and a… Wanda stopped that train of thought before she could think about it too hard. 

“So,” Ms. Romanoff murmurs, turning a corner and stopping at a window. There’s a nice view of their small college town, and Wanda turns to look at it. Anything is better than meeting those piercing, heavy, green eyes. “Are you available for coffee?”

“Why do I have the feeling that you won’t let me say no?”

“Oh darling, you can always say no. But that’s your decision to make.”

Wanda glances down, picking at her fingernail to avoid the heavy gaze locked on her. Something about Ms. Romanoff just makes her want to agree with everything the woman says, and the arm muscles flexing through her silky fabric isn’t helping Wanda stay focused. She takes a breath and looks back up, “So this is a date?”

“Do you want it to be a date?” Ms. Romanoff’s head is tilted slightly, her expression giving nothing away. Wanda feels her heart skip a beat. Her tongue feels too heavy in her mouth, and she feels herself choking on air as she begins to stammer out nonsense words. 

“I- well. I’m- I don’t know, I-”

“I would like for this to be a date,” Ms. Romanoff cuts her off smoothly, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. 

“Well,” Wanda mutters, feeling her face flushing even further as Ms. Romanoff’s smile widens. “I’d like that too.”

“Perfect,” she says, and Wanda wonders if she’s standing closer than before. She can practically feel the older woman’s body heat against her own, and that faint scent of familiar cinnamon wafts beneath her nose. She breathes deeply. 

“I’ll have Nick bring the car around. You should tell your friends that you’re unavailable for the rest of the morning.” Ms. Romanoff’s words are low and murmured against Wanda’s ear. She hopes that the woman doesn’t catch the full-body shiver that cascades down her spine, or the goosebumps rising quickly on her neck. 

Wanda nods at her, eyes flickering between Ms. Romanoff’s dark green irises briefly before she turns her gaze past her towards Kate. The older woman’s hand twitches, her fingers brushing lightly against Wanda’s waist as she steps around her. A full shudder threatens to run through Wanda’s already overactive nervous system, and she suppresses it with sheer will. Her roommate is in the middle of giving Vision and Paul instructions but turns towards Wanda with a raised eyebrow when she begins walking over. 

How the fuck is she supposed to explain a last-minute date with the country’s hottest, richest, and most eligible bachelorette?

Next Chapter

---

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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 6 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD!! Explicit sex, hair pulling, tit slapping, nipple play, body worshipping, doggy style, protected sex, Hoseok is just so whipped for her, confessions, mina makes an appearance, multiple orgasms, argument, drama!!! NSFW!!!

Word count: 4.1k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write. I hope it's fun to read for you too. Please let me know what you think of it.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

It’s been long since you had any physical action. 

Jungkook was far too unattached for the last couple of months of your relationship that he couldn't offer more than a few kisses and touches. 

And then when he left, you were far too drained to give yourself a moment of release. 

So, this can be a reason why you currently feel that you are being touched for the first time ever. This can be a reason why your skin is ablaze, your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it in your ears and your panties getting soaked at the speed of light. 

Hoseok groans in your mouth when you manage to slide your tongue inside of his. He tastes like the red wine you two just had. But he feels like everything you have been missing in your life. 

“Stay the night.” Hoseok whispers in your mouth, parting for a second. A string of saliva connecting both of you. 

“Should I?” you reply breathlessly. 

And then you are kissing him again. His hands hold you steadily by your hip, squeezing your ass occasionally. 

“But first, let’s keep these away.” you murmur in his mouth and he groans in affirmation. 

Parting from your lips again, Hoseok places a quick peck on your mouth and takes the wine glass from your hand. When he exits the balcony to keep the glasses on the dishwasher, you follow him. 

Calling Hoseok only handsome would never be justified. 

You stare at him thirstily as he puts the glasses inside the dishwasher. His forearm veins flexing with every movement he makes. The black turtleneck is tight around his well-built chest. His dark styled hair has come loose around his forehead so a few strands are covering his eyes. 

You start blushing but not because you are horny. It’s more than that. 

No matter how independent you are, you have always wished to have a small family. Some people, who you would always come back to. Someone of your very own. 

And you have always pictured Jungkook with you in those moments. 

But now, when you have a glimpse of what you could have in future (only if Hoseok feels the very same way), you feel greedy. 

You want to wake up in the morning beside Hoseok, kiss him good morning, take Sua out of her bed, kiss her too, and at night you want to tuck her to her bed, kiss her good night and end your day in Hoseok’s arms. 

You don’t know if it’s right for you to ask all these and you don’t even want to think of that. For now, you know you are in love with the man in front of you.

You know he is attracted to you too, and it probably doesn’t match the intensity you possess for him. But for now, you want to live in this feeling. It’s been long since you have felt anything akin to butterflies and you want to enjoy it all as long as it lasts. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” It's Hoseok who speaks. He takes a step towards you. 

“Am I?” you mirror his actions. 

“Yes. very much.” he takes a hold of your hand and places a kiss on top of it, “so much so that I want to make you mine… only mine.” 

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours, making your heart go even wilder. You can’t remember the last time when you felt this loved, this cherished, this much adored.

His eyes stay on yours. You can’t find the least bit of mockery in those. His words are sincere, he is sincere and right now, you can read him like an open book. 

Placing your other hand on his cheek, you whisper, “then.. What’s stopping you from doing so?” 

His skin is smooth much like his words. 

Hoseok halts his movements at your question. His eyes flood with emotions that are not quite positive. You know what he might be thinking. And you want to dismiss his thoughts as soon as possible. 

“I- I don’t see why you would want someone like me? I am in my thirties, a single father on top of that. You can have hotter younger guys swooning over you, offering you the world and what not. And me? I can only offer you myself, my love and Sua as a bonus. That’s all.” 

You smile at his admission. He probably thought his words would discourage you from stepping towards him. But in reality you fall for him even more. 

Encircling your hands around his neck, you reply, “and what if that’s more than enough for me? What if that’s all I want? You, your love and Sua as a bonus? Will you make me yours then?” 

“I have been alone for far too long, Y/N. and… and I might not let you go if we step into this. I might never let you slip away from me. Will you be okay with that?” 

“I will love that, Hoseok. I.. I have come to like you a lot in the past few weeks. And would love to fall for you in the near future.” you connect your forehead with his. 

“Too bad, because it took me only the first glance to fall head over heels for you.”  as soon as his confession ends, his lips find yours. 

This time the kiss is slow. 

Hoseok takes his time to explore every corner of your mouth while caging you between himself and the kitchen counter. 

You kiss him with utmost sincerity as well. 

Hoseok bites down on your lower lip, making you release a low moan. His kisses shift to your jaw, then to the column of your throat, painting bruises all over your skin. 

His hands find their way to your thigh. And within a moment he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.

Slotting himself perfectly in between your legs, Hoseok nips on your throat. 

“Hoseok” you moan breathily. 

Hoseok’s hands venture underneath your dress, discovering your bare thigh. Your breath hitches when his fingers reach closer to your leaking core. 

Just when he is about to touch you there, the door lock chimes in. 

Hoseok detaches his mouth from your skin. You can see all the color from his face start draining as he whips his head to look towards the main entrance. 

“Hoseok” a high pitched voice comes out of the narrow passage that leads to the door. And at once you know who it can be. 

Her stilettos clink against the marble floor as she invites herself inside. 

You don’t make any effort to demount the kitchen counter or shoving Hoseok away from your body. You stay still, holding him by his arm and so does he. 

“Hoseok, why didn’t you-” the woman comes into your sight wearing a tight bodycon dress that certainly emphasizes her curves a lot.

You gotta admit the fact that she is indeed pretty. And if you’re a tiny bit jealous then it’s a discussion for another day.  

“Mina! What the hell? How do you know my passcode?” Hoseok screams at her. But she is too busy scanning the position that you and Hoseok are in. 

“That’s not important now, Hoseok. Who is she?” she points her finger towards you. 

“Why are you here?” the man asks calmly now. 

“Because you won’t reply to my texts or receive my calls! And I suppose she is the reason why?” 

“Mina. Let’s talk about it later. I need you to leave now, you can see I am busy.” 

“Who is she, Hoseok?” Mina asks again, determined to know your identity. 

Hoseok looks at you. 

Maybe he is hesitant to name your relationship and it’s natural. You are definitely not only in a professional relationship with him anymore but you are nothing more than a person he just kissed. 

So you decide to answer on behalf of him, “I am Su-” 

“She is my girlfriend.” Hoseok cuts you off. 

Damn! Did he just call you his girlfriend? 

When you look up at him, he is already smiling at you, “she is my permanent.” 

You two are too busy staring into each other’s eyes that you don’t see the third figure bolting out of the door and banging it way too loudly. Before you can register it and say something, Hoseok is picking up where he left off earlier. 

His hands work faster this time, undoing the knot of your dress and pulling the cloth away from your body. Your dress falls limp on his feet. 

Your hands grab Hoseok’s turtle neck as if they are on auto-pilot and tug it out of his slacks. He helps you in undressing himself. 

As soon as his honeyed skin comes into view, you start salivating. 

“Fuck! Is it really legal for you to be this sexy?” you speak the words out loud. Your hands explore the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his torso. 

“Why? Are you going to report me?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to tear your hands away from himself so that he can see you properly. 

“I might… report you to my bedroom.” You place a kiss on his throat. 

He groans, finally grabbing your wrist, he pins those on your back and says, “I’m one hell of an attorney. I know how to win cases.” 

He swiftly unclips your bra and takes the article off your body.  

“Holy shit! Y/N! You are so fucking gorgeous!” Hissing at the sight of your bare chest, Hoseok garbs your right tit with his free hand.

“So big! Damn! I bet your nipples will taste heavenly on my tongue!” 

His praises turn you on beyond repair, so you whine. 

He takes your left nipple inside his mouth. At first he rolls his tongue on the bud and then he starts sucking it. His sucks are so powerful that the action produces loud wet sounds. You bite back a moan even though it’s tough to do so. 

“Come on, baby! Let me hear you.” Hoseok speaks into your tit. His saliva runs down your bosom. 

“B-but Sua is-”

“Her room is upstairs, remember?” 

“O-Oh. I completely forgot you fucked Mina neumerous tim- Ah” a bite of sharp teeth on the sensitive skin of your nipple restricts you from completing the sentence. 

Hoseok slaps on your other tit harshly and bites on your nipple again. 

“Hoseok!” you let out a thunderous moan. 

When he finally leaves you tits, those are covered in red, purple bruises. 

Hoseok winds a hand around your naked waist and picks you up easily. You wrap your legs around his torso, letting him take you to his bedroom. 

On other times you would take a look at the decoration of someone’s bedroom as that tells a lot about a person. But right now you can only think of Hoseok’s body, his mouth and those damned set of fingers. 

He drops you onto his plush bed and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. Once those are discarded, he takes off his own slacks. 

His strong thighs make you wanna ride him till you come undone. But then your eyes fall on his bulge. The anticipation of his rock hard cock filling you up makes your head spin. 

“Let me see you, baby!” Hoseok cooes at you and only then you realize, you have been clenching your thighs and blocking the views. 

Hoseok urges your legs open. Hungrily staring at your leaking core, he licks his lips. 

“Fuck! The most beautiful cunt of the most woman I have ever seen. You are a fucking goddess! I will worship the ground that you walk on.” Hoseok groans briefly before he dives down into your heat. 

As soon as his mouth comes in contact with your cunt, you start seeing stars. 

He kisses your mound, then your folds and then your clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks the bundle of nerves as his life depends on it. 

And when he enters a finger into your core, you feel your heat building. 

His tongue plays with your clit as two of his fingers plunge into your hole at a rhythmic pace. It’s too much to take, so you voice, “Ho-Hoseok! I’m gonna c-cum.” 

“Yes darling. Cum on my mouth.” he takes out his fingers from your hole and replaces those with his tongue. His fingers do the job of drawing tight eight figures on your clit in the meantime. And as a result, he rips out one of the best orgasms you have ever had. Your scream accompanies your release as you cum in Hoseok’s mouth. 

“So sweet. So fucking sweet.” Hoseok stands on his feets. 

You are so fucked out already that you miss the moment when he releases his cock from its confinement and strokes it twice.

When your eyes finally fall on his naked body, you start getting wet again. 

“Oh god, Hoseok!” you try to sit up and take a hold of his meat. 

Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you give a kitten lick and wipe away his pre-cum. Hoseok shudders with your touch. 

But he takes his cock away from your hand and murmurs, “You can suck me dry later baby. I really really want to be inside you now. Will you let me?” 

Sitting on your knees, you place a kiss on his lips, “Do whatever you want, Hoseok. I am all yours.” 

Hoseok grabs you by your neck and smashes his lips on yours, “You drive me crazy!” His words vibrate into your mouth. 

He tactfully lays you down and snatches a packet of condom from the drawer of his night stand before climbing on the bed. Rolling down the same around his girthy length and lines his cock on your entrance.  

“Can I?” He asks briefly before pushing himself inside your greedy hole slowly. 

He gives you a few moments to adjust first and when you are done he starts moving. 

“Fuck! So tight! Fuck!!!” Hoseok growls as he holds you in your place by your waist. 

The first few thrusts are slow, he takes his time with preparing you. But then you whine, “Hoseok! Faster!” 

“Whatever you say, baby.” Hoseok mutters briefly as he urges you to sit up and change position. He pulls himself out of you. 

Within a moment you are on your fours. 

He grabs you by your waist and slams himself inside again, pulling out an earth shattering moan from your mouth.

His other hand reaches for your neck and then ventures into your hair. He grabs and pulls your hair gently as he thrust into you harshly again. 

The thrusts are so powerful that your words morph into nothingness and come out as gibberish. You start clenching around him sooner than you would like to admit and you know you are gonna cum again. 

“I- c-cu” and you cum on his cock even before Hoseok could offer you a reply. 

“Shit!” He growls as he cums in the condom. 

Your body falls on the bed, you are too exhausted to even get up and clean yourself. 

But soon enough you feel one strong arm sliding underneath your stomach and flipping you over. Hoseok lays you down on your back and then places a damp cloth in between your legs. He cleans you thoroughly. 

Honestly, you want to cry. When you peek at his face, you see nothing but admiration. He gives you a small smile and continues. 

Once he is done, he lays down beside you. Greets you a small good night, wraps his arms around you and kisses on your crown as you slowly melt into a dreamless sleep. 

He still can’t believe it. 

Hoseok still can’t believe that you are now his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love and do all the things he wants to do to you, with you. 

Without any doubt, last night was one of the best nights of his life until now. And now that he knows how it is to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you sleeping in his arms, he doesn’t want a life without this.

He traces the contour of your face with his thumb as if to make it into a muscle memory. Your eyes, your nose, your lips.. He wants to remember everything, he wants to engrave it into his brain.

Your alarm goes off, breaking your sleep. 

You stir awake and then look for your phone on the nightstand. Turning it off, you look at him and give him one of your most beautiful smiles. 

“Good morning.” gosh! Your sleepy voice is perfect. 

“Good morning, darling.” If hoseok isn’t wrong then he can clearly see you blushing at the nickname. 

“How did it come here? I definitely left it at your dining place.” You ask him, pointing at your phone. 

“I brought it. Thought you might have an alarm set and see I was right.” he reaches down and places a kiss on top of your nose. 

“Umm. so considerate.” you mirror his actions. He giggles at that. 

“I need to get up now. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you ask, starting to get up from the bed. 

“Y/N! I could drop you. It’s not a big deal.” Hoseok whines. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible. Or better he doesn’t want to let you go. But he knows you have work to attend and he values that. 

“I know, Hoseok. But I don’t want you to wake Sua up and drop her to your sisters’ this early. And on top of that the cab is almost here.” you take your purse and follow Hoseok outside his mansion. 

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you closer once you are at the porch, “I don’t want to let you go.” 

“Neither do I want to, handsome. But Namjoon will kill me if I take another day off. I slacked off for two entire weeks after my break up.” The mention of your break up somewhat dims the light in your eyes but Hoseok knows he can make it better. He can heal you. 

He puts a hand on your cheek and places a chaste kiss on your lips, “So, today is our day 1?” 

He knows he has successfully diverted your mind when your cheeks turn darker and a sheepish smile takes over your lips. 

“If you say so.” you murmur. 

Just right then the cab pulls in outside Hoseok’s mansion. You hug him and bid him goodbye. 

“Y/N” he stops you when you are about to tear apart from him, “what are you doing this weekend?” 

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” 

“Great then.” 

And with that you leave. Even though it upsets him, it also fills him with a new excitement of seeing you in two days. 

Saturday comes painfully slowly. 

But the prospect of seeing Hoseok not as your counselee’s guardian but as your boyfriend has kept you filled with an incredible amusement. 

You two pondered on what to do and where to go for your first official date. But no options satiated you. You kept making excuses for whatever he came up with and there is a reason why. 

You wanted to spend time with him inside the comfort of your home. And when you presented the idea to him, he agreed in a heartbeat. 

The preparations have kept you busy since morning and it’s almost the time of his arrival. 

So you change your clothes, slip into a fresh pair of tee and shorts, wash your face and apply some lip balm. 

As always, Hoseok is right on time. He rings the doorbell right at 7 pm, just as you two decided.

“Hey, come in.” you open the door wide open, welcoming him inside. 

He has arrived with a large bouquet of red roses and a plastic bag full of soju bottles. 

“Flowers for a flower.” He offers you the bouquet and you can’t help but tsk. 

“So cheesy, Mr. Jung.” 

“I’m sorry.” he laughs out loud. 

Once you are done putting away his presents, you take a good look at him. 

He has his hair down today, unlike the other times you have seen him. His fluffy hair covers his forehead, making him look younger. His lips, as always, are inviting. And he has chosen to dress himself in an oversized white hoodie and baggy jeans. 

“You.. are looking so beautiful, baby.” It’s hoseok who compliments you first. Wrapping his arms around you, he takes you in his embrace. 

“I was about to say the same. You look so handsome, so domestic.” letting your lips capture his in a kiss, you show him how much you have missed him for two days. 

“Is it okay for you to stay the night?” You ask Hoseok in between your ragged breaths. His mouth sucks on that one spot on your neck, that gets you all weak. 

“Sua is with her grandparents and she likes them more than me.” He replies, pulling his mouth away from your skin for a second. 

“I doubt that. She loves her daddy the most.” You giggle as Hoseok’s hands slide inside your t-shirt. 

He shuts his eyes as soon as you emphasize you on “daddy.” 

“Can you call me that again?” his voice trembles a bit. 

“What? Daddy?” It's such a pleasure to tease him like that. 

“Don’t tease me, Y/N!”  his nails dig into the flesh of your waist. 

“I’m not teasing you. I am asking. Is that what you liked to be called? Daddy?”  

“Fuck it!” Hoseok growls as he captures your lips in a hungry, rough kiss. His hands reach up to your tits, groping the flesh to snatch a moan out of your lips. 

And just then the doorbell rings. 

You whine into his mouth before breaking the kiss. 

“Who is it now!” clearly being very annoyed, you charge up to the door. 

“Hello, who is it?” asking through the door dash cam, you wait for an answer. 

Whoever is outside, is wearing a helmet and from the angle of the camera, it’s impossible to tell if it’s someone you know or not. 

“Courier service.” the muffled voice of the person replies. 

You don’t think much. You usually receive a lot of mail for seminars and stuff that has become a common feat. 

So you open the door. 

But to your dismay, the person wearing that damned helmet and bikers’ jacket is none other than your ex-boyfriend. 

The scene slowly unfolds in front of Hoseok.

He sees your good mood turning sour as soon as you see the person standing at your door. 

“What is it again?” you grit through your teeth. 

This is the first time Hoseok is seeing you losing your cool and if he is not wrong then the person on the other side is your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. 

Even though your body is blocking the view, Hoseok can see the man taking off his helmet.  

“I need to talk to you, Y/N. please.” he speaks in a calm voice as if it’s no big deal to knock on your ex’s door at 9 on a saturday. 

Hoseok’s hands ball into fists. His blood boils at the thought of your ex-boyfriend trying to win you back even after he left you for someone else.  

“I don’t understand what the fuck is left to talk about?” you scream at his face.

“Y/N, Please. I know you can’t forgive me for what I have done to you but I understood it. I- I realized my mistakes. I thought I fell out of love with you but-” the man sighs, his voice trembles constantly, “but I was wrong. I broke up. I- I ended things with her as soon as I realized I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never-” 

For a moment, Hoseok is afraid. What if you take him back? What if you accept his apologies and take him back into your life. What will be left for Hoseok then? 

But, “It’s too late, Jungkook.” you cut him off. 

“Y/N, please.” 

“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I will appreciate it if you leave now.” 

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” Hoseok intervenes. Even though he knows he should not butt in, but you are now his, and it’s his responsibility to protect you. 

You turn your head to meet his eyes. Your face is apologetic as if you are ashamed of whatever is happening right now. He assures you a small “it’s okay”. 

Then he looks at the man standing at your door, only to find him glaring already. 

“And who are you to come between us?” Jungkook’s voice is now laced with venom. 

“I am her boyfriend.” Hoseok replies as he walks up to you and stands between you and Jungkook as if protecting you from an impending danger. 

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