#this is so late but I still think it’s funny

[rambling-at-midnight]

When the Truth Comes Out

Request: Reader asks, "So, when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I hope I did your prompt justice!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: It’s been three and a half years since Jason asked you out, and he knows you’re the one. He knows every part of you, the good and bad, and loves it all. The problem is that you don’t know everything about him… and his secrets may ruin everything.

Word count: 3.5k

Jason’s never been one to window shop, but lately he’s been noticing the glint of jewelry.

You give him a weird look when he stumbles in the middle of the department store. It’s because a ring display caught him off guard like a punch to the gut, but he can’t explain that, so Jason waves off your concerned questioning.

You give him a weird look before turning back to the toy aisle. The two of you spent the morning bickering over what present to give Damian for Christmasukkah. You want to give him a keyboard to learn piano, but Jason’s sure that Damian would be happier receiving an art kit. He knows violin, which is a strings instrument, not whatever the piano is. Besides, the kid’s a brat. He’d want a full-size grand piano that originally belonged to Mozart or some shit and costs a hundred thousand dollars, which isn’t exactly pocket cash for the two of you.

And, sure, Jason’s got one of Bruce’s credit cards in his wallet—Bruce offered to give him one in Jason’s name, but it was the principle of using the stolen card, so Jason turned him down—but he’d be damned before he spoiled the kid any more than he already is.

He keeps his eyes firmly on you after that. It’s where they’re supposed to be, anyway.

You end up getting the keyboard after surreptitiously checking your bank account against your projected budget several times. It’s funny. After three years, you still think you can hide stuff like that from Jason. Probably because he pretends not to notice. He makes a mental note to stop by your landlord’s and see if the Red Hood can make any suggestions about lowering rent for your building.

As the two of you walk out of the store, a cold gust of wind tries to steal your breath away. You step closer to Jason, cold fingers twining with his, and he easily drapes an arm over your shoulders to keep you close. “Was that the last one?”

“I think so,” you reply, checking your list again. “The keyboard for Damian, massage gun for Dick, matching pajamas for Cass and Steph, Pokemon expansion pack for Duke, and the fuzzy socks for Tim.”

The socks are decorated with the words ‘I BREACHED CONTAINMENT’ in black stitching. Jason saw them in a tourist trap he saved from a D-list rogue and remembered how Tim looked like the bog monster after falling into the sewers the day before. They’ve been sitting in his closet since the end of August.

“I have too many siblings,” Jason sighs.

“Have you figured out what you’re giving Bruce?”

Jason bites his lip.

You say, “Ah. Well, you still have a couple days.”

Yeah. Jason has two. He’d been supposed to look out for anything to catch his eye in the store, but all he noticed was the stupid ring display.

He opens the car door for you, then shoves the keyboard in its box into the backseat and starts the engine. Jason drives home one-handed. The other holds yours loosely over the console. You’re checking your bank account again on your phone, frowning slightly, thumb brushing up and down Jason’s palm. He keeps an eye on you as he drives, playing idly by squeezing your fingers one by one until you have to try to hide a smile by looking out the window. 

He doesn’t let go of your third finger. Something nags at the back of his mind, like—

Jason realizes that he’s trying to find a ring, and his heart stops. The car jumps forward when he slams on the gas, and he drops your hand to put both of his on the wheel as he swerves around a minivan. You let out a startled yelp, hands flying out for something to grab onto. The stupid keyboard slides off the back seat and into the footwell.

Two cars lay on their horns when he nearly sideswipes them. Jason responds with an emphatic middle finger and cuts across three lanes to get away. The poor car doesn’t respond as well to his driving as his motorcycle does, and the engine whines as he leaves the other cars in the dust until he eases off.

As soon as the car reaches a relatively normal speed, you say, “Jay! What just happened?”

“Sorry,” is all he can say, keeping both arms stiff on the wheel. “Sorry, honey.”

“You okay?”

“‘M good. You good?”

“I’m okay, I was just…” You keep looking at him, and Jason’s skin prickles. Do you know? Can you tell?

Jason creaks like old wood, but he pulls back his right arm and puts his hand on the console, palm up. After a moment, you put your left overtop it. He can feel your pulse racing through the thin skin of your wrist.

He squeezes.

You squeeze back.

The day before Christmas, Jason still doesn’t know what to give Bruce. He’d hoped that baking would fix the block, but as he abuses the poor sopapilla dough, he’s no further to any answers.

You’re at the counter, offering moral support but not physical help. Jason’s a bit of a control freak in the kitchen when he’s anxious.

He’s not anxious. He’s not! It doesn’t matter if he gives Bruce something for Chrismukkah. Bruce doesn’t even celebrate Christmas. ‘Not trying to kill him’ is probably a good enough present.

Or the sopapillas. Sure, everyone’s bringing a dish, but no one said it couldn’t also be Jason’s present. But if he goes that route, then the pastries have to be perfect, and the last batch didn’t fluff up the way they did when Catherine made them.

“Jay,” you say after another five minutes of Jason punching dough that is already thoroughly kneaded.

“Yes, love?”

“I think the oil might be ready.”

Judging by the hiss and pops behind him, it is, and has been for several minutes.

Jason tries his best to follow his mother’s actions through his memory, but this batch doesn’t turn out right, either.

“Here,” he says wearily, placing the overflowing plate in front of you. “Let ‘em cool off.”

You wait as long as you can, fingers drumming on the counter as you watch tiny curls of steam drift up from the pile of pastries. Finally, you give in. “Oh my gosh,” you say around a mouthful that was a little too hot, judging by your wince. “Jay, these are amazing.”

“It’s not right, though,” he argues.

“Jay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but these are better than your last batch.”

He shakes his head stubbornly.

“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” you decide. “But really, if you bring these tomorrow, no one will complain. If they do…” You hold up a fist and shake it, mustering up (what you think is) a ferocious scowl.

Jason’s lips twitch. “What if Damian complains? Are you prepared to hit a child?”

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” you say. “I live in Gotham. I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Despite himself, Jason laughs. He picks up one of the pastries from the dish and bites into it. They could have used more honey. Maybe that was the problem. But you’re right. These are good, and if they’re not, so what? It’s not like Bruce expects much from him anyway.

Jason’s chest squeezes.

Bruce should just be grateful that Jason is there at all.

Fuck.

It’s getting too hard to deny. Despite all his best efforts, Jason has to admit… maybe he does love his family.

It’s the first holiday season where he hasn’t been incandescent with rage toward one of them or another, and he’d underestimated just how nervous he would be. Despite everything that happened between them, he wants tomorrow to go well. The first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas this year, which hasn’t happened for about twenty years. It’ll be Damian’s third Chrismukkah and the first where everyone is in attendance—Jason wasn’t on speaking terms with the family his first year, and Bruce was in the time stream and Tim was across the world last year.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hmm.”

You swallow without making eye contact, and if he was paying even a little bit more attention, he would have known to prepare himself for what you said next.

“When are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

Jason is a selfish asshole. It’s a miracle that you haven’t figured that out yet after three years of dating him. He half-expects to come back to the apartment to find his stuff in bags. That’s the main reason he’s still out in the cold.

He’s in the middle of another drag when a teasing voice says from behind, “Ooh, must have been a rough day.”

Jason’s hand twitches for his gun, but he recognizes the voice. So he only rolls his eyes and says around the cigarette, “What do you want?”

“Your partner asked me to check up on you. Apparently you looked pretty freaked when you took off.”

Fuck. Jason groans. “How worried did they seem?”

“Ummm….”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kind of messed up.” Spoiler sits next to him, dangles her legs over the side of the roof, and lets them swing idly. “Or they messed up. I thought you quit smoking?”

He exhales a thick plume of smoke. “I did,” Jason says. Dying from smoke inhalation was bad once, but a habit is a habit.

“If it makes you feel any better, they seemed more concerned about you. Not, like, mad or anything.”

Well, that’s something.

“So what happened?”

Jason grunts. Maybe if he stares into the horizon long enough, Spoiler will give up. That was the technique Batman always used when Robin asked the tough questions like, ‘Why am I going home early so you can interrogate Catwoman on your own?’

It only worked sometimes.

Unfortunately, Spoiler seems immune.

Jason grunts and drops the butt of his cigarette. He itches for another, but you’ll already wrinkle up your nose at the smell of one. And, shit, what are you even going to think about him high-tailing it out after that question, leaving for hours, and coming back stinking of smoke?

“I’m a fucking idiot. And an asshole.”

Spoiler huffs. “Everyone already knows that, dumbass. They certainly do.”

“Thanks,” Jason says drily.

“Anytime!” she chirps.

Her heels beat against the side of the building.

She’s not leaving anytime soon, so Jason sighs and gives in. “They asked when I was planning on proposing.”

Spoiler gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yep.”

“So you’re engaged?”

“What? No.”

“What?”

“They asked when I would propose. That wasn’t a proposal… I don’t think so. I mean, there wasn’t a ring,” Jason says helplessly.

Spoiler socks him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Damn, but the girl can pack a punch. He rubs at the sore spot, scowling.

“You stupid idiot!”

“I know.”

“And you just ran away?”

Jason cringes and admits to his lap, “Yes.”

Spoiler hits him in the exact same spot on his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, stop that!”

“I’m going to kill you, Jason Peter Todd.”

“You could certainly try, Stephanie… Brown,” he shoots back.

“You don’t even know my middle name?”

“I don’t care about you.”

She lifts her fist again, but Jason twists out of the way before she can hit him a third time in the same shoulder. It’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“You don’t get it,” he says, balancing on the edge of the roof and feeling exceptionally unstable, even though he’s walked across ledges like this since he was twelve.

“What don’t I get? That you have an awesome partner waiting for you at home? One that wants to get married? One that—”

“One that has no idea who I am,” Jason hisses. He brandishes his helmet at the girl. “We’ve been together for three years. They have no idea that I’m the Red Hood. It made sense, at first; I can’t go around telling everyone I kiss what my identity is—”

“Right,” she scoffs sarcastically, “like you’re some kind of serial kisser, Todd. Half the city would know your identity if you did that.”

“Shut up,” Jason half-says, half-groans, and by some miracle, she does. “At first, obviously I couldn’t tell them. Then I wanted to keep waiting. I wanted to know that they were, you know, the one and everything.”

Spoiler fake-gags. Jason ignores her.

“And after that it was just too late. I waited too long. I can’t marry them unless they know about the mask, but who would agree to marry someone that’s been lying to them for three years? The entire time they’ve known me?”

“Huh,” says Spoiler.

‘Huh’ indeed.

“So I ran,” Jason says. “I don’t even know if I said anything. The next thing I knew, I was in the street with a pack of cigs and a lighter in my pocket. I came up here to smoke a couple before going back and ending things.”

“You—wait, ‘ending things?’” Spoiler’s head whips around, the white lenses of her domino widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t lie to them,” says Jason. “When I go back, I’ll tell them the truth. And they’ll break up with me for lying for years. I was just trying to put it off.”

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even trying to lie for most of it. You took his excuses easily, believed him about a boxing gym membership to explain away the bruises, and never uttered a complaint about the odd hours he worked. Every time he was late to a date or canceled, you understood. Every time he forgot something important, odds were that you’d forgotten, too, without him to remind you.

All things considered, Jason might have found the single least curious person in all of Gotham, if you hadn’t figured it out after three years. But he’d gotten so comfortable that he’d forgotten that it was a secret, really. It had all rushed back in when he heard your words like a smack to the face, and he’d panicked.

“You don’t know that,” Spoiler says softly.

“Could you forgive someone for something like this?”

She stays silent, and that’s answer enough.

Jason huffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and considers them. Then he sighs and drops both on the ground. “Might as well get this over with.”

The cold Gotham air whips away the reek of smoke by the time he’s back at your apartment. Jason looks at the door like a condemned man looks at the gallows. He could sneak in through the window like he usually does, but he selfishly wants you to open the door for him. Show that he’s welcome now, even though he won’t be for long.

Seconds drag on like torturous minutes until he hears the familiar click of the lock. The door inches open with a screech.

Jason’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your wide eyes. “Hey, darling.”

Wordlessly, you open the door further and step aside to let him in.

Funny how a place he’s practically lived in can feel so unfamiliar. Jason shifts between feet as you re-lock your door.

The moment you turn around, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

You say the same thing.

“What?” Jason asks.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you say.

“No, I was an ass,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw you looking at rings, and we’ve talked about it, but still, marriage is a big step, so I wanted to be prepared,” you ramble. “I mean, we said that we could get married, but we never discussed when, or when the proposal would be—”

“Honey!”

You fall silent.

“Just wait,” Jason begs. He can’t stand any more of your endless understanding. You’ve only ever understood him, no matter what, and he’s going to miss it so much. He’s going to miss you so much. “Wait one second.” He retreats to the bedroom and returns a moment later with something clutched behind his back. Your eyes dart to the awkward way he’s contorted his arm.

Your face goes blank when he pulls out the spare helmet he keeps below your bed. He’d only used a domino when out with Spoiler, but that wouldn’t do for the grand reveal.

“I’m the Red Hood,” he says in a rush, then braces for your judgment.

You don’t react except to say, “Jason.”

He doesn’t understand. You’re not scared of the killer in your apartment. You’re not furious at the man that’s lied to you for three years. Obviously you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Honey, I’m the Red Hood. The vigilante.”

“Jay—”

You’re still just standing with no reaction. Jason holds the mask up so you’re making eye contact with it.

You push it out of the way and cradle his face with both your hands. “Jason Peter Todd, look at me,” you command.

Jason holds your gaze. It’s the last time he’ll ever be so close to you, and he never wants to forget what your presence feels like.

“Jay, I’ve known basically the whole time.”

What.

Jason blinks.

“What?”

“I already knew.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I’m the—”

“Red Hood, yes, I know.” You muster up a tremulous smile. “And Bruce is Batman. Dick is Nightwing. Steph is Spoiler, Damian is Robin, Tim is—”

“Oh my God, you knew? How did you know?”

“Jason. My love. My darling. My honey bunchkin.” You give him a mildly scolding look. “I’m not an idiot.”

Jason’s ears heat. “And you’re not… mad?”

“That you’re the Red Hood?” You cock your head. “Of course not. I worry about you, of course. But you have to do it. I know that. Or am I mad that you tried to keep it a secret for three years?” You press your lips together to hide a growing smile. “No. I’m not mad about that either. You can’t exactly go around telling your secret identity to everyone you kiss. It’s just something I had to figure out on my own.”

“You knew,” Jason marvels. “You knew this whole time.”

“Most of the whole time,” you say. “But yes.”

“Oh my God.” Jason’s moving before he can stop himself, and he wraps you up in his arms and spins you around. “I thought you would hate me,” he confesses, still clutching you like his life depends on it. “When I finally told you.”

A soft hand runs through his hair. “Is that why you ran?” you ask softly.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, honey, I just—”

“I get it,” you interrupt.

“You were scared.”

A thought occurs to Jason with such clarity he nearly drops you. “Wait, so you were going to marry me even after you knew about the mask?”

“Of course,” you say. “I love you, Jay. Mask and all.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t need one. Don’t you get it? I only need you.”

“I only need you, too.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jason agrees, and he probably looks like a fool with his wide grin, but you can’t stop smiling either. He dips his head, and you rise up to press your lips to his, even though with both your grins you end up clicking teeth.

“Good,” you repeat.

“Good,” Jason says, just for good measure, and this time he makes sure the kiss is better. Lightning shoots up his spine and he pulls back to ask, “Wait, are we engaged now?”

“Um… yes?”

“That’s awesome.”

Your smile is so wide that your eyes nearly close. Jason’s pretty sure he looks the same as he sweeps you up and spins you around. You fit perfectly into his arms. He’s never going to let you go.

“My fianceé,” he says fondly. “I’m never going to get tired of saying that.”

“I’m marrying you,” you marvel, sweeping your thumb over his mouth. “I have the prettiest husband-to-be in the whole world.”

“I love you,” Jason confesses. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Seconds before your mouths meet for another kiss, Jason’s phone buzzes. On the off-chance it’s an important alert, he pulls it out, but it’s just Spoiler asking for an update.

Jason stows the device. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know how to make the sopapillas the right way.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

It turns out that Jason’s right.

Making them with your help turns out to be what was missing the whole time.

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog

My inbox is open! Stop by to request something or just to say hi!

[moralesluvr]

omg i have a funny idea have you seen that couples trend on tiktok where like one of them wraps themself in wrapping paper and surprises the other with it? I think having that in a fit and having it lead to giggly cute smut would be so cute and i know you would eat that up hopefully this makes sense idk LOVE U

LMFOAOAOA I LITERALLY LOVE THIS

wrapped up | b.eilish

the idea had come to you late one night, scrolling through tiktok while lying in bed. the trend popped up on your feed— a girl wrapped in shiny, ridiculous wrapping paper, jumping out at her boyfriend, and both of them collapsing into fits of laughter.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how billie would react if you tried it. knowing her, she’d either find it hilarious or give you her classic deadpan look, followed by a teasing comment. you were always playing pranks on her and it drove her nuts, but deep down, she always found it funny too. it seemed worth it.

so you got to work, scouting out the attic while billie was away at some interview, searching from some old wrapping paper that you could use.

the hardest part wasn’t the idea itself, but the execution.

you spent the better part of the afternoon figuring out how to wrap yourself up. it was ridiculous, fumbling with tape and paper in the mirror, trying not to crinkle it too much while also ensuring it stayed in place.

you were on the phone with zoe, who thought the idea was absolutely hilarious. she was cracking up on the other side of the phone, watching as you tried to swivel the roll of wrapping paper around your hips.

“this is so stupid,” you muttered under your breath, struggling to secure a bow to your chest. but the thought of billie’s laugh kept you going as zoe giggled, “please record her reaction, i need this.”

when you were finally satisfied— or as satisfied as you could be— you bid zoe farewell and opened your video app, positioning yourself in the middle of the living room and waited on billie to get back home.

after what felt like ages, the sound of the front door opening made your heart race.

“baby?” billie called, her voice soft but curious, “why is it so quiet?”

you stifled a giggle, trying to stay as still as possible. it felt like everytime you moved, it sounded like you were opening an entire chip aisle all at once.

you heard billie’s footsteps as they echoed closer, and then she stepped into the room, her eyes immediately landing on you.

it took a second for her to process the sight of you, wrapped head to toe in gold, shiny paper, a bow slightly askew on your chest.

“what the—” she started, her lips twitching as she fought to keep a straight face. she couldn’t tell if you were serious, but she let a giggle slip from her lips as she folded over her body in laughter.

“surprise!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms out, the paper crinkling loudly with the movement, which made you snicker.

“girl, what the hell?” billie managed between breaths, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, “what is this?”

you pouted dramatically, folding your arms over your chest as the wrapping paper ripped under your arm’s weight. the curvature of your breasts caught billie’s eye, and she gave you wide eyes. “bils, you don’t like your present?”

“oh, i love it,” she said, stepping closer, still shying away a few giggles. inevitably, her eyes lower themselves, “you look….really good.”

she reached out, her fingers gently tugging at the paper that had fallen off of your shoulder. “you really went all out, huh?”

“i wanted to do something cute,” you giggled, pointing to your phone that was set up on the counter, your cheeks heating under her gaze. “plus, you always say I’m the best gift you’ve ever gotten, so…”

her laughter softened into a warm smile, her hands settling on your waist, crinkling the paper beneath her fingers. “you’re so ridiculous.”

“you love it,” you shot back mockingly, smoothing out a crinkle in your wrapping paper skirt proudly.

“i love you,” billie said, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek as you smiled underneath her gentle touch, “even when you’re dressed like one of santa’s elves.”

you giggled at that, quickly ending the video simultaneously to billie snaking her arms around your waist, pressing tons of kisses across your cheeks.

things escalated from there— and they escalated quickly, at that.

it started with her teasing you, pretending to unwrap you like an actual gift, tugging at the tape and paper piece by piece. but the way her fingers brushed against your skin, the way her laughter softened into something quieter, more intimate— it made your breath hitch.

“you’re so cute,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over your jaw as she pulled another piece of paper off of your frame, leaving your chest borderline exposed.

you shiver under her touch that’s contrast to the warm air as her ringed hands graze over your collarbone. her voice is hushed to a soft whisper, “can i use my gift, baby?”

you nod fervently as billie giggles at your eagerness, carefully placing big rips in the wrapping paper until you’re completely nude in front of her. you can see her eyes soften, big and wide with love and admiration as she scoops you up like it’s nothing, your legs wrapping around her waist.

billie sits you down gently on the couch cushions, immediately lowering herself onto her knees. she grabs a hair tie from her wrist, offering you strong eye contact as she put her hair in a ponytail.

“you look so pretty for me,” she praises, finishing off her temporary hairdo before giving you a kiss to your thighs, her eyes still piercing into yours. “wanna make you feel good, is that okay?”

you nod at her, “please touch me, bils. been waiting for you all day.”

“clearly you have, walkin’ around looking like one of santa’s slutty elves.” billie can’t help but giggle, looking at the pile of discarded wrapping paper that’s on the floor, a pattern with reindeers and little bells printed over it. you snicker, “it was for you, though! you were on my nice list, i was giving you a gift.”

“uh huh.” billie smiles, fingers digging into the waistband of your red thong, sliding it off and onto the floor in one swift motion. you feel her hot tongue dip between your folds, collecting your arousal on the muscle as her hand comes up to massage your thighs.

you let out a soft moan as billie’s tongue finds home on your clit, little whines sliding through your gritted teeth as your hands grip at the sheets. you’re so engrossed in your pleasure that you almost don’t realize that billie’s stopped— you only know because you can hear her loud laugh from underneath you. you sit up and cock an eyebrow, “something wrong?”

billie shakes her head, trying to calm her laughter down, “there’s…wrapping paper…on your…vagina.” she almost chokes the way she’s cackling, and you just frown as billie fans her face, trying to sedate herself.

“okay, i’m sorry mama, it’s just so cute how much effort you put into this.” she smiles, and you feel your skin grow hot when she gently places two fingers inside of your dripping cunt, immediately curling them and thrusting into you quickly, but lovingly. she returns her touch back onto your clit, sucking on the bud as quiet moans of her name pass from your lips.

“always have been such a giver….” billie murmurs into your sex, “just wanna make my girl feel good, yeah? you wanna cum for me, baby?”

“m-mhm!” you stifle out a chopped response, letting yourself get lost in the way she touches you, your skin tingling as your walls tighten around billie’s fingers.

she coos at you, “i know, love, it’s okay— cum for me.”

and you do just that, louder moans passing through your lips as your orgasm hits you in a strong wave, your skin hot and bubbly as you let your high course through your veins.

“such a good girl,” billie murmurs against your cunt, watching as you fall apart beneath her, a smile etched on her face.

“the best gift i’ve ever gotten.”

send an ask to be added to my taglist !!

taglist: @vharperr | @47lake | @hopingforgoodblogs | @zendayasredbottoms | @chrissv4mp | @mseilishmwah | @justtr | @natbelovasblog | @lovelyy-moonlight | @bilsdillldough | @billiesrighthand | @sturnsmia

[kbstanny]

Treatment (Zayne/Reader)

✿ Fandom: Love and Deepspace

✿ Pairing: M/F

✿ Tag: NSFW

✿ Mentions: smut, mild injury mentions

✿ Word count: 5,051

✿ Summary: She had no choice but to see Dr. Zayne for treatment after a Wanderer left her injured, but his cure for her anguish wasn't quite what she had in mind.

✿ A/N: Hey! This my first fic on this website, and it's on a game I only started playing a week ago 😭

Because I'm a new player, I don't really know the world or the story very well, so if there are inaccuracies then you know why. However, I've also avoided specific plot details for this very reason.

I hope you enjoy!

Damned Knave.

She tightly gripped the gash on her thigh, limping her way down the dark deserted path. She'd received reports of disturbances down at the old munitions factory and had gone to investigate. Wanderers had been sighted after hours, so she'd gone late into the evening, and solo, as her ever-elusive partner had been unavailable. She'd handled herself fine, but a rather tricky Knave had managed to cut right through the top of her thigh.

Once she eventually hobbled her way to a street lamp, she could investigate her injuries properly. Shakily, she removed her blood-stained hands from the wound, then hummed — It didn't look too severe. The gash was long, but not so deep, stretching from her inner thigh up toward her hip. The blood made things a lot nastier than they needed to be, and the pain was bearable, at least for now. She'd hail a taxi and treat the damage at home, and if it didn't feel much better by morning, she'd consult her physician. But Dr. Zayne was a last resort.

Once morning came, she did not feel better.

The pain woke her up before her alarm did. It stung intensely, and the surrounding skin was hot and numb. Clearly rubbing alcohol, a cocktail of painkillers and gauze wasn't going to cut it. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage to take a look at her injury — it still didn't seem too bad. Inflamed, a little gnarly, but far from incapacitating. Just painful. But she'd faced foes much fiercer than some stupid Herte Knave, and obtained injuries far more gruesome. For now, she'd suck it up. She had a job to do.

—

"Oh my god!" Tara gasped. "When did that happen?" Her friend asked her, leaning in to the picture on her phone. She'd snapped the pic before getting ready for work this morning, thinking it would be a funny story to tell to Tara at the office. But her friend's reaction was a little more alarmed than she'd anticipated.

"Last night, at the factory. There were some serious beasts down there, but you wanna know caused that? A Knave of all things." She chuckled, shaking her head. Tara didn't look so amused.

"Aren't you hurt? Have you been to the doctor?"

"It's just a scratch, Tara, I'll be fine."

"That is not just a scratch! That needs stitches!—"

"What needs stitches?"

Captain Jenna approached the two, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She had a scrutinising look in her eye, one that said 'Why are you chatting and not working?' It reminded her of her old teachers.

The hunters were silent, looking between each other. She shot Tara a warning look, but Tara ignored it, turning the phone to face Jenna. "This does."

Jenna leaned in, her eyebrows raising, breaking her steely expression. "Why yes, it does... Is this you?" She looked to her, and she sighed softly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes, but I feel fine. I promise. If I didn't, I'd take the day off."

"Have you had it treated?" Jenna cut to the chase.

"...No." She admitted, and Jenna sighed.

"Well go. At once. That could easily get infected." The captain straightened up, her tone commanding. There was no room for negotiation. "Honestly, I thought you'd have more sense than to leave an injury like that unattended." With that, Jenna walked away. She waited until her captain was out of sight before standing and addressing Tara.

"Did you really have to snitch on me?" Though she already knew she would — anything to impress Jenna. Tara gave a sheepish look.

"Well I had to do something! I'm only looking out for you." But she pat Tara's shoulder, shaking her head and smiling.

"I know, I know, you're right... as usual. I really shouldn't ignore it. Thanks Tara." Tara gave a knowing smile.

"I am usually right! Now go and see Zayne. He might be a little scary but he knows what he's doing." They both chuckled at that.

Tara knew what her friend was hesitant to admit: It wasn't that she was ignorant of the risks of open wounds, nor was she a particularly nervous patient. She just didn't want to see Zayne.

Not because the doctor was in any way cruel or unpleasant, he wasn't even scary as such. But the doctor was so cold, and the icy chill of his eyes permeated her core with a mere glance her way. Zayne had been an old forgotten friend, a dear one, but now he was a figurehead for her ailments. All that time they'd spent together as children seemed meaningless now. They couldn't have drifted further apart. Zayne was a bad omen, and a sign her past had been well and truly shattered.

But that was only half of the reason. The other reason, the more embarrassing one, was that she found Zayne stupidly attractive. Not only because he had the face of an angel and a body carved from marble, but for his work ethic, his dedication, his intelligence. And of course, she couldn't help but feel sentimental toward him over the time they'd spent together as kids. She yearned to reconnect with him. He had a potent effect on her. When she was near him, his mere presence was enough to suck the words out of her mouth, to reduce her to a shrinking violet with no resolve. Like a silly teenager with a crush. And that wasn't like her at all. She hated not having control.

She wasn't certain whether the feeling was mutual. There was something about the way that he looked at her, on occasion, that made her heart flare up. Sometimes she thought he had a tenderness to his tone that he just couldn't have used with everyone, but maybe that was wishful thinking? His concern for her health and wellbeing seemed obsessive, too. Never had her previous physicians been so zealous, but Zayne was a renowned surgeon. Perhaps it was just a sign he was good at his job, and nothing more? She didn't know, and she didn't like thinking about it.

With a deep breath, she rapped on the door to his office. With any luck, he'd be busy, and she'd be forced to return to HQ and schedule an appointment the long way.

"Come in." He answered — Damn.

She walked inside, standing by the door with her hands behind her back. Zayne was busy typing away at his computer, and he hadn't even spared her a glance. She hadn't realised she'd been quiet until Zayne spoke up again.

"Can I help you?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yes, if you're not too busy. I injured myself while dealing with a Wanderer. I was hoping you could take a look."

It was upon hearing her voice that Zayne decided his patient was more interesting than his computer, and he turned to face her, scrutinising her slightly crooked form, and the way she carried her weight. He thought for a moment or two.

"Your left thigh." How did he know that? She looked down, but her injury was completely concealed, and no blood had seeped through her clothes.

"Yes, how did you—"

"What happened exactly? Take a seat." She nodded, heading to sit down on the chair opposite the doctor, but he shook his head.

"Not there. On the examination table."

"Right."

As she sat down, Zayne quickly punched one final sentence into the keyboard, before turning to face her, waiting for her answer.

"It happened yesterday. A Wanderer, as I said." She clarified, and Zayne hummed.

"So the Wanderer attacked you directly? You didn't sustain this injury through any other means during the battle?" She shook her head. Zayne made a note of this on his computer.

"And do you have any other injuries?" She told him no again.

"Alright. I need to examine you, if that's okay."

She nodded, looking down to where her legs were outstretched on the table, before coming to an awkward realisation: She was wearing pants. She couldn't just pull her skirt up, she'd have to strip the item off entirely.

"Yes, of course." She began to fiddle with the button to her pants, before Zayne stiffened, taking the curtain that surrounded the table.

"Tell me when you're ready." With that, he shut the curtain around her. She released a sigh of relief, grateful for the privacy, though she felt a little stupid for not closing it herself. She wasn't sure how she'd compose herself having to undress in front of him.

Once her pants were off, she came to a second mortifying realisation: Her underwear. The item was black and lacy, made from sheer mesh, hardly concealing her delicate areas. The type you'd wear for a lover, and not at all the sort of thing you'd wear to work. But she'd washed all of her more practical undies yesterday, and thanks to one pesky Knave, hadn't found the time to dry them before morning. If she'd known she'd be stripping down in Zayne's office for an examination, she would have stopped off at the shops on her way to work to buy something cheap and appropriate. Hell, she probably would have bought boxer shorts.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath.

What would Zayne think of her? Surely he'd think it was deliberate. She'd approached him for treatment, and she just so happened to be wearing semi-transparent lingerie? There was no way he'd find that coincidental. He'd think she was some sort of pervert. Was it too late to get out of here?

"Are you alright? Or are you struggling to get changed?" Zayne asked from the other side of the curtain. Her chest felt tight — how long had she been sat there worrying?

"No, I'm fine. I'm ready now." She panicked, blurting out the words despite herself, cursing internally as Zayne pulled back the curtain. The doctor said nothing as his eyes drank in the sight of her, nor did his expression give anything away — Not that she'd know, she avoided his gaze like the plague, staring intently at the floor. But despite his composure, Zayne certainly noticed her indelicate attire. And despite his healing instincts, and the rather prominent gash on her thigh, her panties were the very first thing that held his attention.

Zayne sat beside the bed, on the side of her injured leg, leaning in close to the cut. He took a long look at it, reticent as ever, before finally meeting her gaze.

"What time did this happen yesterday?"

"In the evening."

"And you didn't think to call me when it did?" Zayne pressed. Her words were trapped in her throat for a moment, before she finally pushed them out.

"Well... no. It was late, and it didn't seem so bad at the time."

"It's never too late to check yourself in to a hospital." Zayne stated the obvious. "Whether I was available or not, you should have had this seen to immediately." His tone was stern, his stare unwavering. She said nothing. "When something like this happens, you need to call me, no matter how late it is. I'm your primary care physician, it's what I'm here for. And if I can't see to you personally, I can find someone who can."

"I understand. I will do, next time."

"You really ought to take your health more seriously. You have a duty, as a hunter, to protect people. Lives depend on you. And you can't protect anybody if you can't take adequate care of yourself. Being anything less than thorough with your wellbeing is selfish, and neglectful of your duties." His words made her brows furrow, a mixture of annoyance and shame, but she still didn't respond.

"Injuries sustained through Wanderer attacks are more susceptible to infections. Some are serious, and fast-acting, as you should well know. I cannot stress enough the importance of getting wounds like these seen to as soon as possible—"

"I know, Doctor." She interrupted, a little snappy. "I told you already. I will next time, and I'm here now, aren't I?" But did she have any right to be annoyed with his tone? Deep down she knew she didn't, that she was only being stubborn, but she couldn't help herself.

"Please don't be so reckless next time." Zayne asked her, his tone softer, his eyes so tender she couldn't stand to look at them anymore. She couldn't take it when he scolded her.

The doctor sighed softly through his nose.

"This will need sutures, but I'll need to clean the wound and check for signs of infection first, which requires a physical examination. Is that alright?" His words nearly made her melt.

"That's fine." She composed herself well enough for an answer.

Zayne brought a gloved hand to her thigh, and although the gesture was purely clinical, she couldn't help the heat that rushed to the spot between her legs. His hands were cool, and his touch gentle, so gentle that if she closed her eyes and pictured a different context, it could've been a loving caress. Zayne pressed his fingers firmly against her thigh.

"Does that hurt?"

"No." She answered honestly. Zayne repeated the motion to the space surrounding her injury, his fingers travelling in a small circle, starting from the bottom of the cut, until they creeped inwards. Zayne gently pulled at her thigh, widening her legs as he continued his examination. She was trying her best not to react.

She cast her gaze downwards, to the fingers between her legs, and her heart dropped. From this angle, under the stark white lights, she was clearly exposed. Nothing was left to the imagination. She was so embarrassed she nearly screamed, looking to Zayne to try and gauge his reaction — but she couldn't. He was too focused on the task at hand.

Her breath became shaky as she observed the way he prodded at her, how his fingers crept ever-closer to her arousal. Just one budge in the opposite direction and those tough, broad hands would be swept over her cunt. Imagining how his fingertips would tickle the mesh of her panties was enough to make her wet.

She heard her name in the recesses of her mind, and then again. Only the second time did she realise it was coming from Zayne's lips.

She snapped back to reality, looking back at him with eyes wider than intended. He stared back at her with a cutting gaze.

"I asked you whether it hurt, where I was touching you." He repeated. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a few moments before she could cough the words out.

"No— no, sorry. I was a million miles away." She chuckled sheepishly.

Zayne looked back at her, giving nothing away. How exciting, he thought, that he could tell exactly what was going through her mind, yet she didn't have a clue what he was thinking? Zayne was extraordinarily good at hiding his emotions, but his patient? Not so much.

She was embarrassed, that much was clear. Whether the lingerie was a wardrobe malfunction or a bold decision she quickly came to regret, he wasn't sure.

What was also clear was that she liked it — what he declined to express was that he did too.

How could he not? If it were anybody else, he wouldn't give such scandalous attire a second thought. As a doctor, he was indiscriminate; a body was just a body. He'd seen the hidden corners of countless beautiful women and it never swayed his commitment to his work or hindered his professionalism — not once. But she was different. Surely, despite how reserved he was, she could tell that she was different? That this tension between them was all but ordinary?

"I don't believe you have an infection, but I'd like to see you in a week for observation. If anything changes, let me know immediately." He told her, his tone as stoic as ever. Yet his hand lingered at her inner thigh, so close to her cunt she was sure he could feel the heat through his gloves. Eventually, he did move his hand. Despite his feelings, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Zayne then proceeded with the usual cleaning and dressing procedures, and she suppressed a hiss as he swabbed the wound with antiseptic. During this entire exchange, she'd been uncharacteristically quiet, whereas Zayne was as quiet as usual. The silence was unbearable, she wasn't sure she could ever recall a time where she'd felt so awkward that it hurt. Her body was so tense, and her lust swelled so needily that she couldn't suppress the words that left her mouth next.

"I'm sorry about the underwear." She blurted, her apology cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. But it didn't take long for the searing metal to scorch her skin — she regretted the words almost the moment she'd said them.

Zayne paused, placing down the suture needle he was prepping before staring straight back at her. There was a hint of mirth behind his eyes, that came into fruition through a small, teasing smile.

"Don't apologise." His tone was gentle and neutral.

Did he say that so things wouldn't be uncomfortable, or because he liked the look of them?

"I didn't wear these because I knew you'd see them, all my other pairs hadn't dried. And I wasn't even going to see you in the first place, I only did because Jenna told me to!" She couldn't help but explain herself, a grimace on her face, but Zayne remained quiet as he brought the needle to the cut.

The anaesthetic numbed the pain. She felt uncomfortable again, with Zayne's sudden silence. She wondered whether he'd respond at all, whether she'd made things too awkward, but Zayne was simply mulling over the best thing to say.

"You don't usually wear lingerie to work, then?" He enquired, meeting her gaze once he'd pulled the stitch through. She chuckled bashfully, dipping her head.

"No. Never. They've been irritating me all day." Zayne hummed at this, continuing with his sutures. "Why, would you prefer it if I did?"

She wasn't sure where such boldness had come from. Likely it was that her lips below were talking for the ones above, despite how twisted up she felt inside. Yet again, she quickly regretted her pitiful attempt at flirting, until Zayne seemed to bite.

He met her eyes again, his smile wider now. He loved seeing her so playful. "I'm not sure I can come up with an answer that's both professional and true."

Her desire burned at his words, so brightly that she swore she could feel a hole forming in her chest. She clenched, unwittingly, never had she been so eager to feel him. A Cheshire-cat smile stretched across her face, the type of smile that she was sure made her look silly, yet Zayne found it endearing.

She began to laugh, though at first it was deep in the pit of her stomach, and Zayne continued with his work. But she couldn't help her laughter, the swell of emotions overtaking her. Embarrassed, yet immensely satisfied. How unexpected that things were beginning to work out for her?

Zayne finished the sutures, gathering fresh gauze as he began to dress the wound, amused by her reaction. "Do you truly find me that funny?" He asked in a level tone, and her laughter died down so that she could respond.

"Zayne, you are the furthest thing from funny." Though she didn't elaborate, as there was no need. Her belly full of butterflies was clear without words. The doctor hummed and finished dressing the wound.

She watched him as quiet settled over them again, but this time it wasn't an awkward silence. Instead, it was charged with sexual tension. Zayne stopped looking at her thigh in favour of the warmth between her legs. He stared, unabashedly, and the look on his face struck a bolt of fresh arousal through her heart.

He took his gloves off, then slowly, he reached over, tracing his fingertip over the lacy edge of her underwear. "Why do you have underwear like this anyway? Do you have a partner?" He asked her. She thought he sounded almost a little possessive, but it was clear another man in the picture wouldn't stop him anyways. His eyes flitted up to hers.

Her face felt hot at the question. Goosebumps prickled up across her skin in an instant, her cunt twitching from the subtle contact. "No."

"No?" He tested, taking his finger directly over her heat, stroking it up and down over the thin mesh of her panties. He could feel her wetness soaking through, and the way she twitched under his touch. "Then I'm right to assume that these are only for me?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one that she mirrored.

"That's right."

Her answer pleased him. She spread her legs a little wider, resisting the urge to moan despite the fact he'd hardly touched her. Zayne slipped his fingers beneath her underwear, finally feeling her properly. The sensation made her gasp.

He merely trailed his touch along the length of her cunt, between her folds, sticky with her slick. He was teasing her, taking his precious time as he lapped up the look on her face.

"You're already so wet."

His voice was collected. He was completely in control, while the woman at the end of his fingers was quickly unravelling by the second. She said nothing, releasing a shaky breath. Zayne stood, sitting opposite her on the table.

He took his fingers from the lips below to the ones above, tracing them gently, before taking hold of her jaw. He pulled her forward, and their lips collided in a greedy kiss. She poured her desire into him, clasping him tightly, pulling him closer, her eyes clenched shut as he expelled the tension from her form.

Yet Zayne, as always, appeared composed. He parried her hungry affections effortlessly, his grip on her jaw becoming firm. Zayne led the charge, as he guided her lips against his, eventually setting their pace. She slowed down to appreciate him, but before long the kiss was broken. Zayne pulled away with a soft smile, his lips a little puffy as he pressed them chastely to her cheek.

He brought his fingers to her lips again. "Suck them for me." His command was gentle without losing its timbre, and she obeyed, sucking on the digits without question, briefly, until he pulled them out of her mouth. Zayne brought his wetted fingers back to her cunt, pulling her underwear to one side and sticking his fingers firmly against her.

She huffed at the sensation. His fingers were still a little cold, warmer now thanks to her mouth. She clenched, feeling empty, needing him inside of her.

Zayne rolled his fingers over her clit, and not too slowly, which took her by surprise. She moaned already, widening her legs for him. He wore a focused expression, lust sparking beneath his pointed gaze.

He sat more comfortably between her legs, taking her thigh, before inserting a finger into her cunt. She whined, though she was wet enough to offer no resistance. He pushed it deep inside of her in one, smooth motion.

She clenched tightly with her core, as if to hold on to him, wanting to keep him inside of her, sighing as he pulled his finger out, only for him to add a second.

This was a tighter fit. She moaned, trying to keep her voice down, angling her hips up to feel him better. Zayne slowly began to pump both his fingers, up deep inside of her then down to the tips. The friction of her walls against him was marvellous.

"You feel wonderful." He told her, his eyes locked on hers, fixed on every micromovement. Everything about her, from the sound of her voice, the small parting in her lips, the sight of her so uninhibited before him — it was poetry in motion. This woman, as capable and stubborn as she was, was helpless at his touch.

I do feel wonderful, she thought, scoffing at Zayne's compliment. She felt blissful, like a ball of a thousand knots had at once been untied, releasing a deep strain she'd been harbouring in her stomach. Ever since she'd reunited with Dr. Zayne, those ties had knotted. Every time she'd seen him, the palpable tension between them had grown and grown. Until now.

Zayne sat up straight, then hoisted her up, taking his fingers out briefly to pull her panties off entirely, carelessly discarding the item on the floor. It was only a momentary distraction — soon Zayne's fingers slipped past her walls yet again, though this time he was positioned beside her, his other arm hooked around her waist, holding her close.

He pumped his fingers faster, his motions mechanical, his rhythm never wavering, and she struggled to contain the sound of her mewls.

"Shh. You need to be quieter." He hushed her, gently. "As much as I love hearing you, the walls here aren't so thick." He managed a chuckle, dipping his head to her neck, pressing a short trail of kisses down its length. This made her shiver

"That's— that's the wrong way to get me to be quiet." She scolded, playfully, matching his smile. Her words were breathy and choppy from her efforts to conceal her pleasure.

"Noted." Zayne turned her head toward his, then caught her lips in another kiss, one more frenzied than the first. Zayne used his lips to muffle the noises coming out of hers, eating every moan and whine she poured into him. He pushed his fingers as deep as they could reach inside of her, stroking her walls with a beckoning motion. Meanwhile, he played with her clit with his thumb, breaking their kiss to observe her reactions.

She looked divine. Her lips were wet and inflamed, dripping with saliva, her hair tousled, her expression languid. And he could see how she tried so hard to keep quiet for him, how her whimpers bubbled in her mouth, how hard she breathed through her nose. She felt she must have looked silly, but Zayne didn't think so at all.

"So you can do what you're told?" He teased, sounding more playful than she'd ever heard him. She huffed at this, far too wound up to retort.

He suddenly began to pump his fingers again, faster than before, which took her time to adjust to. She gasped, but caught most of the sound in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

She could feel her climax swelling. It couldn't be far away. Her body felt tight and hot, her face clenched with the torment of having to keep quiet. She held his hand, leaning into him, her movements becoming fidgety as she tried to channel her stimulation. Again, she clenched at Zayne's fingers, bucking her hips to take more of them. Seeing her so desperate for him was so exciting.

"You're doing so well." He didn't tease her anymore, cooing into her ear. His husky tone was enough to make her moan again, that one slipping right past her defences, ringing loud and clear. Oops.

She bit her lips, flashing Zayne an apologetic look, though he didn't seem to mind, nor did he slow down. Another pang of pleasure rippled through her, and at that she knew it was time.

"Zayne— I'm close—" She just about choked the words out, her hand coming to clamp her mouth shut. Somehow, in the heat of things, she'd forgotten she had that option.

He sped up a final time, his fingers flashing in and out of her with a series of thick squelches. Zayne fingered her like a machine, one clever in its design — to be so quick and accurate without being brutal. She felt her whole body tense, a flush of great heat washing over her, choking out her gasps as she buried her head in Zayne's shoulder. Then, at once, she reached her release.

Her body quickly went lax, the heat and strain fizzing out of her, skin tingling. It took her a few good gasps to regain her composure, eyes slowly opening. When she looked down, the light sheet on the table had been soaked through with her release, her legs glistening with sweat. Slowly, Zayne pulled his fingers out of her, earning a whine from the weary woman. He brought those fingers to his lips, sucking away her juices.

He sent her a smile, pulling her against his chest. "Did you like that?" Surely the answer was obvious, and she sent him a look that spoke a thousand words. His smile deepened. "I'm glad."

"I hope I wasn't too loud..." She mused, looking to Zayne, who leaned in to press a soft kiss to her temple. A delicate gesture that made her heart stir.

"You were. But don't worry about it." She scoffed at that, too tired to do anything but listen to him. Before she could return the favour and get Zayne off, she needed a few minutes to gather herself.

But Zayne didn't seem the least bit concerned about his own satisfaction — seeing her hit ecstasy was all he needed. He rubbed at her inner thigh, the one that wasn't injured, giving her a slightly regretful look.

"I have an appointment in twenty minutes, so unfortunately you're going to have to leave soon." The words weighed heavy on her chest, even though she knew that was stupid, nodding at Zayne with a cheeky smile.

"That's not a problem, I can make it quick." She reached over to the tent in Zayne's crotch, but he took her hand, moving it away.

"I can sort myself out." He assured her. She couldn't help but feel a little rejected. Sensing this, he stroked her cheek.

"You can make it up to me another time." They both smiled at that, staring at each other for what felt like hours.

"I'll never avoid making an appointment again."

They probably would have kept staring if it weren't for the startling knock at the door, and the concerned voice of one of the nurses that followed.

"Doctor Zayne? Is everything alright in there? I heard a lot of noise!"

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.6 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: More of a funny chapter, some fluff, Taehyung being the biggest menace on the planet, Some touching (Not sexy touching sorry lol, its worth it), hella tension, dirty thoughts hehehehe, more confused feelings, stress, yoongi mentioned, seokjin continuing to make vics life hard, Jungkook is bad at feelings, drinking, swearing, smoking, y/n continuing to be the biggest avoider of the century, they are getting better just trust me, healthy communicating??? Ji-eun continuing to be my fav ❥word-count: 11.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: This is like 85% edited right now so sorry if there are mistakes but I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible! So enjoy and if you see a mistake no you didn't and Happy Holidays! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

“Come on! Let me take you out. You don’t even have to think about the breakup anymore,” Taehyung called out, trailing after Jungkook as he moved from his bedroom to the kitchen, then back again.

Namjoon had texted Taehyung earlier, saying Jungkook had been sulking around the apartment for days. The breakup was mutual—or so Jungkook claimed—but it was still a gut punch. He and his girlfriend had been together since the start of college, and the shift from something so constant to nothing at all wasn’t easy to navigate. Jungkook hadn’t gone into much detail, just muttering something about them not wanting the same things anymore.

 His silence, though, was worrying his friends.

Jungkook barely acknowledged Taehyung, focused on shoving notes and books into his backpack. “I can’t, Tae. I have to meet my project partner.” he muttered, his voice laced with mild frustration.

Taehyung leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “The one who already doesn’t like you? Sounds like a good enough excuse to put it off.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook said, sharper this time. “She already doesn’t like me, so being late will just make it worse. I’m barely tolerated as it is. We’ve been working on this for weeks, and it’s been nothing but cold shoulders and annoyed muttering.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading for the front door.

Taehyung wasn’t giving up so easily. “So...is this the same partner you were complaining about before?”

“Yes.” Jungkook groaned, not breaking stride.

“Well, maybe I should come along. I’m great with people. Could smooth things over—”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off, opening the door. “Anything connected to me seems to make it worse.”

Taehyung kept pace, still grinning. “But you’re already late. What’s five more minutes? I can be a neutral third party. Mediate, make her laugh, maybe even—”

“No.” Jungkook protested again, but Taehyung followed him. Then kept following him all the way to the library.

Once inside, Jungkook scanned the study area. He spotted you almost immediately at a small table in the corner, papers spread around you like a protective barrier. You were frowning, your hand moving quickly across a page as you scribbled something down, a furrow of frustration etched between your brows.

“Alright, time for you to leave.” Jungkook hissed, spinning around and shoving at Taehyung’s shoulder.

But Taehyung wasn’t going anywhere. He caught sight of you, and his playful expression shifted to one of delight. His mouth fell open, and then a slow, mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “Well, hello, gorgeous.” he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook frowned. “What?”

“You didn’t mention she was hot.” Taehyung said, his grin only widening and a wiggle to his eyebrows. “I can work with this.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing at Taehyung’s arm to stop him, but Taehyung sidestepped him easily, practically skipping as he made his way over to you. You were deep into some calculations for your math class and you felt like you were going insane when someone sat across from you, you peered up to see a stranger swiftly pulling out another chair at your table.

“Hi.” He said warmly, tilting his head as if he’d just stumbled into a casual coffee chat.

Raising an eyebrow to him, you blinked, your pencil pausing mid-air. “Hi? I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

Taehyung shook his head, “No, I’m Taehyung.” He held a hand out to you to shake. 

You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his for a quick, polite shake. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m actually waiting for someone.” 

“Ah, don’t worry. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Taehyung said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m here on a mission.”

You let out a heavy sigh, “If it’s to ask for my number or anything like that. I’m not interested.” 

Taehyung waves you off, not that he would mind slipping you his number, “Nothing of the sort… I mean unless you like what you see.” Taehyung leans back posing in his chair, and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of him. “I’m actually here to get some information.” 

“Okay?” You cross your arms over your chest, an amused grin on your face. Jungkook from a small distance amazed you haven’t bitten Taehyung's head off. 

Taehyung nodded gravely, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ve come on behalf of my dear, troubled friend, Jungkook.”

Your polite smile faded instantly, replaced by a tight line of irritation. Casting a quick glance past Taehyung. Sure enough, Jungkook was standing a short distance away, half-hidden behind a bookshelf. His expression torn between embarrassment and dread. “I have to apologize Taehyung–”

“You can call me Tae.” He grins with a wink,  and you roll your eyes.

“Okay Tae. I don’t know you well enough to get into all those details.” 

“How about we have dinner and discuss it then?” Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours leaning his arms on the table. Just at that moment a hand comes down on Taehyung's shoulder, he glances up to see an annoyed Jungkook towering above him.

“That’s enough.” Jungkook wants to avoid your annoyance at him increasing any further by Taehyung's antics. 

“You’re late,” you said pointedly, your tone icy as you picked your pencil back up and focused on your notes. Refusing to look at Jungkook.

“Can you see why?” Jungkook gestured to Taehyung and took another seat at the table. Taehyung rubbing his chin glancing between the two of you with some amusement. 

“Wow, there really is some hostility here… almost electric.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his gaze shifted between you and Jungkook. His grin was as sharp as a knife, cutting through the tension with deliberate ease. “For the sake of Jungkook’s sanity—and mine—I have to know. Did he ghost you? Forget a birthday? Sleep with you and never call you again?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief freezing you for a beat before your voice finally squeaked out, “Excuse me?”

“Tae.” Jungkook kicks his leg under the table and Taehyung winces.

“I was just curious!” Taehyung raises both of his arms up in surrender, “Seriously, what did he do?” He pressed, eyes sparkling with mischief as he ignored Jungkook’s obvious irritation.

You shifted in your seat, feeling caged in under their expectant stares, but your posture stayed composed. You refused to let them see you squirm. “I thought I already said I don’t know you well enough for the details?” You replied coolly, hoping to deflect.

“Well,” Taehyung said, clearing his throat as if settling in for a monologue. “I’m Kim Taehyung. I’m a Capricorn. I enjoy wine and find most other alcohol kind of overrated. Jungkook’s one of my closest friends, like, ever. I love dogs, but I have a massive respect for cats. See? We know each other better already.”

His brazen confidence was so unexpected it caught you off guard, drawing a small laugh from your lips despite yourself. “That’s all fine and good,” You said, shaking your head, “but this is personal, Tae.”

“Can I at least put in a good word for him?” Taehyung raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, gesturing toward Jungkook like he was trying to sell a piece of furniture.

You hesitated, glancing at Jungkook than back to Taehyung. “Alright.” 

Jungkook was surprised you were even entertaining his theatrics. Taehyung’s face lit up in triumph, and he shot Jungkook a smug look before leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. “Okay, listen. Whatever he did to earn this… frustration from you, I can guarantee it wasn’t on purpose. Either that, or he’s completely oblivious. Probably the second one, honestly.”

You tried not to let his words affect you, but the sincerity in his voice was hard to ignore. He didn’t seem like he was messing with you.

“Here’s the thing,” Taehyung continued, his tone dropping lower as if the next part was especially important. “Jungkook’s one of the best people I know. Seriously. He’s somewhat dumb sometimes, sure, but he’s also loyal and… well, kind of a big softie. I think whatever’s going on here is probably just a huge misunderstanding.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his words.

Then, as if he couldn’t resist, Taehyung grinned again and reached over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek. “Plus, he’s a big baby and such a cutie, right?”

Jungkook groaned, swatting Taehyung’s hand away. “Stop.”

“No, seriously,” Taehyung insisted, turning to you with exaggerated curiosity. “He’s cute, right?” 

You froze like a deer in headlights, eyes darting between them. “I mean… he’s alright, I guess.” you said, shrugging in an attempt to play it cool. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Jungkook’s looks, they were hard to miss, but you weren't really on the market these days. 

“Okay, but what about me?” Taehyung tilted his head, all innocent. “Am I more than just ‘alright’?”

“Goodbye, Taehyung.” Jungkook stood abruptly, tugging Taehyung up from his seat. “We’re leaving.”

Jungkook got up from his seat trying to pull Taehyung away from his own. Taehyung resists for a moment, snatching your pencil to quickly scribble his number down on a blank piece of paper you had out. 

“Call me.” Taehyung lifts his hand up to hear ear to motion for you to call, as he is getting dragged away by Jungkook. Far out of your sight from your table. You glance down at the number, it was poorly written but you could still make it out. 

You knew you wouldn’t call but Taehyung's genuine honesty and unabashed personality was a breath of fresh air. At least you could really only hope everything he said was real and not him covering for Jungkook. 

After a minute Jungkook returned to the table, annoyance written all over his face. He took his seat again with a heavy sigh. “Sorry… about him.” 

“Oh, it’s okay. I could tell he meant well.” You brush him off and continue to write something in your notebook. “Seems like a good friend.” 

“He is.” Jungkook nods, finally taking the time to pull out his own books and notes. “Just a tad nosy.” 

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow with a small smile, presenting the phone number. “Severely cocky too.” 

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the horribly written numbers on the page. “Yeah, you’re welcome to burn that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Taehyung had always been nosy, maybe even intrusive at times. He really just liked being in people's business and being in the know. This time though, he just happened upon this information and wasn’t really trying to be involved. He really couldn’t help himself in this case. 

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.” Taehyung said, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. His elbow rested on the table as he studied Jungkook with a knowing glint in his eye.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice steady, though a flicker of unease slipped into his tone. He casually raised his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip as if the conversation was of no consequence.

Taehyung grinned wider, his head tilting. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. I saw you.”

Jungkook frowned faintly, still feigning confusion. “Saw me what?” Jungkook didn’t react—not outwardly, at least. Years of navigating intense courtroom scrutiny made him a master of keeping a cool exterior. But beneath the surface, his pulse quickened.

“You and Y/N. Leaving together after emo night.”

Jungkook blinked once, twice. “Okay?”

“Okay?” Taehyung repeated, drawing the word out mockingly. He leaned forward just enough to make Jungkook feel cornered. “Y/N wouldn’t share a fry with you, let alone a ride home. It doesn’t add up. So I started thinking.” He paused, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table, each tap feeling like a provocation. “At first, I let it go. People share cars sometimes, sure. But then Jimin mentioned you’ve been acting... off. Quiet. Weird.”

“It’s called maturity,” Jungkook quipped dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

Taehyung snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Maturity? You? The guy who stress-ate three bags of gummy worms during trial prep and then tried to convince us it was a ‘tactical’ decision?”

“They were sour gummy worms,” Jungkook shot back defensively. “Completely different vibe.”

“Sure but you’re usually unbearable before a trial.” Taehyung raised a brow. “Pacing around, running through every tiny detail like your life depends on it. Hell, last time you made me and Namjoon sit through your entire case just to ‘practice.’ You even roped Melanie into being the jury. Still can’t believe she ruled against me.”

“She has great judgment,” Jungkook quipped, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. But here’s the thing: this time? No pacing, no rambling, no pestering me to play the opposing counsel. Just radio silence. It’s weird.”

Jungkook shrugged, his shoulders stiff with tension. “Maybe I’ve gotten better at managing my stress.”

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah, right.” He turned in his seat to face Jungkook fully, his expression sharpening. “When Jimin said something, I started piecing it together. Thinking on the last few weeks. I thought maybe it was family related but, you hadn’t mentioned anything recently. So then I thought, who’s the only person who throws you off your game? Y/N.”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped, but he kept his face neutral. Barely.

“I also thought it might have just been the forced proximity. You two always go nuclear when you spend too much time in the same 500 yards. Except I remembered how weird you two were acting at the wedding, and how you guys disappeared for a while during the rehearsal dinner.” Taehyung continued, his voice dropping just enough to feel like a warning shot. “You think I didn’t notice?” He tilted his head, his gaze cutting. “So, one more time—what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

A silence hung between them in quiet confirmation. Jungkook's face was hot and he was flustered, but also… filled with relief? Like a weight was lifted? Jungkook hadn’t told anyone what had been going on with you two but Taehyung figuring it out made it suddenly so easy. It had all gotten him so wound up and freaked out that he hadn’t realized how much he really wanted to talk. Talk it through, you certainly weren’t going to want to discuss it.

Taehyung’s face morphed into a relaxed and understanding grin, clearly reveling in his own detective work. “Hey, listen. If you’re not ready to talk about it… whatever! I think it’s great. Whatever it is, friendship, relationship, sex. You’re both adults. Have fun.” 

Jungkook let out a breathless laugh, adjusting in his seat. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Definitely not a relationship, I’ll tell you that much.” His lips curled into a shy smile, but his voice carried an edge of uncertainty.

Taehyung nodded knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Well, start by telling me how this all started.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “What’s weird is that, thinking about it now, it feels… insane. We fought at the rehearsal dinner. Like, properly fought. Then we went outside to cool off, and I don’t know—something shifted. We started talking about how we’re terrible at communicating. Like, talking has never worked for us.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “So, I said maybe we should try something else. Something physical.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “You suggested that?”

“Yeah. Why is that surprising?”

“Because Y/N would never suggest that, and you’re usually too uptight to even think about it.” Taehyung took a long, deliberate sip of his drink, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you guys…?” He trailed off, leaving the question hanging even though it was painfully obvious.

Jungkook sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung said, leaning forward with wide eyes and a grin. “I knew you two had chemistry.”

Jungkook frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

“Did too! The first time I met Y/N, it was so obvious. Sure, she was silently plotting your demise, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t heat. You can have tension and attraction, you know.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips despite himself. “You’re delusional.”

“So,” Taehyung pressed, clearly not planning to drop the subject anytime soon, “How does Emo Night fit into this?”

Jungkook leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Honestly… it’s kind of a blur. We were fighting, then we weren’t. Then we were laughing, and the next thing I knew, we were going back to my place.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, giving Jungkook a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Wow. Good for you. It was only a matter of time.”

Jungkook blinked at him, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, come on. You’re both hot. You’re both single. Nothing wrong with playing around and seeing what happens.”

Jungkook hesitated, his expression shifting. “I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung asked, his tone light but his gaze probing.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I don’t know. Every time it’s happened, I’ve felt this… weird sense of guilt afterward. Like I’m doing something I shouldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like I’m not even living in my own skin.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m not the type to just hook up, you know that. I don’t have the time or the mindset for it.”

Taehyung tilted his head, studying him thoughtfully. His voice was softer this time, almost careful. “Do you feel guilty because you think you’re not supposed to? Or is it because it actually feels good, but since it’s with Y/N, you’re telling yourself it shouldn’t be happening?”

The question caught Jungkook off guard. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he thought about it. “I… don’t know.”

Taehyung chewed on his lip for a moment, his expression pensive. “If I’m not overstepping,” he said cautiously, “I think you are enjoying yourself. And sure, I know you only like to sleep with people if you’re considering a relationship—”

“That’s the thing,” Jungkook cut in, his tone sharper than he’d intended. “I’m not looking for anything right now. Let alone with Y/N.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Taehyung held up a hand, his voice calm but insistent. “I’m saying maybe… let the chips fall where they may.”

Jungkook frowned, his confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the tabletop as he chose his words. “You’ve had so much going on in the last year. Maybe this—whatever it is—is happening at the perfect time. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be forever. But maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not like you. I can’t just sleep around. Plus, work takes up all my time.”

Taehyung laughed lightly, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Oh, I’m not saying with just anyone or all the time. I’m saying just whenever it comes about naturally… with Y/N.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Taehyung said, grinning now. “Funny enough, I think Y/N is perfect for this. She’s not going to get attached to you, and you already know you have chemistry. It’s like the universe handed you the ideal situation on a silver platter.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, shaking his head again. “It’s too complicated with Y/N. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung pressed, his teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful. His voice softened, but the curiosity behind it remained sharp. “Have you even talked to her about it? Like, actually talked?”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, the sound short and humorless, as he rubbed his chin. “Sort of. Not really. We talked about the wedding for about five seconds, and then we fought about… well, the last time.”

Taehyung snorted, propping his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Wow, groundbreaking. Gossip of the century. You and Y/N fighting? Stop the presses, I’m shocked.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth made Jungkook glare.

“You act like conversations come easy for us,” Jungkook shot back, his tone defensive.

Taehyung tilted his head, his expression shifting to something softer—almost amused. “You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve gotten to know Y/N pretty well over the years. She’s not as stubborn as you make her out to be. If anything, she’s way softer than she lets on.”

Jungkook looked at him sharply, his brow furrowing. “Okay?”

“It means,” Taehyung said patiently, “you should at least try.  Y/N is actually pretty reasonable once you sit down and actually talk to her.”

“Talking to her isn’t as simple as you’re making it sound,” Jungkook muttered, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “You talk to people you don’t even like all the time at work. How is this any different?”

“Where do you think I got all that practice?” Jungkook retorted dryly.

Taehyung let out a bark of laughter, his head tilting back briefly before he fixed Jungkook with a pointed look. “Fine. You’re going to Namjoon’s tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” Jungkook said, crossing his arms like the question was ridiculous.

“Perfect,” Taehyung said, clapping his hands together. “There’s your opportunity. Just try to have a normal conversation with her. Just… be casual. You can do that, can’t you?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know me?”

Taehyung ignored the jab, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m serious. You don’t have to solve the world’s problems tomorrow. Just talk. And for the love of all that’s holy, keep your clothes on. Since that seems to be difficult for you two now.”

“Alright I’ll try.” Finishing off his drink, Jungkook stood. “I should go now. I need to get some more work done tonight.” Jungkook started to leave when Taehyung called after him.

“Hey!” Taehyung called after him as Jungkook made his way to the door. “Just think about it, alright? You might even realize I’m right. It happens more often than you’d think!”

Jungkook just waved to him as he left. He was going to make his way up to his car but he paused. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Taking one and lighting it. He hadn’t been smoking as often lately, but he felt he deserved one after the success of the week. Jungkook took a long drag letting the smoke fill his lungs before blowing it out through his nose. A small buzz washed through him, cigarettes didn’t really have the same hit these days but couldn't quite kick the habit. 

He knew the smell would stick to him, would linger and cling to these clothes. He started to walk up the street to his car. Just finishing off the cigarette slowly and making sure he was more than safe to drive. Thinking about what Taehyung told him, he hadn’t thought he had been so stressed. Hooking up with you continuously was just a recipe for disaster, it had to be. He was just asking for something to go wrong and you two were always on thin ice as it was. Not that Jungkook would ever bring up any of Taehyungs advice to you… again.

Last time was the last time, a very specific set of circumstances had to come together for the last two times to even work out. 

All though Jungkook had become the furthest thing from your mind this evening. You were entering the hospital at the ungodly hour of 10:30pm because you decided yeah I can totally switch shifts this weekend! I haven’t done a night shift in a while so this will be fine! You are majorly regretting it now. You had slept most of the day but you were still somehow exhausted. 

“Good morning beautiful.” Vic greeted you as you trudged your way to sit next to her at the nurses station. You shot her a glare sitting down in your chair pulling out one of the tablets. 

“I hate the night shift. Why did I agree to this?” You groan, typing your password multiple times and failing. 

“Because you are lovely and wonderful and Maya really needed the switch.” Vic stood up and behind you and rubbed your shoulders. “You can do this, it’s pretty simple at night anyways.” 

“Ugh please don’t jinx me. You’ll say that and suddenly everything’s gonna go wrong.” You lay your head back looking up at her with a small pout. 

“You’ll be just fine, plus Yoongi is here all night with you. He’s fun to torture during the night shift.” Vic patted you before she grabbed her bag and rounded her way to the elevators.

“Have a good night.” You call out to her but then dive your head into your work. Since it was so easy going you knew this would be a good opportunity to finish up paperwork. There was always plenty to catch up on, you could maybe even get a medication inventory count done tonight as long as everything goes smoothly. 

You spend the next little while just working. Yoongi came and joined you after a while and you both just made small conversation here and there. The two of you had actually gotten closer in the time you’ve been up here. He’s actually super nice and much funnier than anyone gives him credit for. The quiet exterior thing was mostly a professional front but when he’s around you and Vic he loosens way up. 

Once one of the other night nurses, Kay, had arrived you stole him away to help you with meds. 

“Okay would you rather broadcast your thoughts to everyone around you at all times or never be able to think in words again?” You ask as you write down some notes about things that need to be ordered. 

Yoongi thought for a moment as he is opening up a box to inspect the contents, “Can I think in pictures?” 

“Hmm I’ll say yes but you can’t imagine pictures of words.” You tap your pen against your mouth. 

“I’ll never think in words again. I don’t need everyone knowing my thoughts.” Yoongi says and you nod. “What about you?” 

“You know what, I agree. I don’t need everyone knowing how often I think about quitting.” You snort under your breath. Yoongi smiles amused. 

“We all know, you don’t need your thoughts broadcasted for that.” Yoongi teased and you push his shoulder. 

“I’m quitting right now.” 

“Right.” 

You sigh looking around. “Well we’ve barley made a dent. I’m going to going do a loop and check in, will you see if Kay needs anything?” You hand him the notepad you had been making notes on. 

“No problem, and we can totally finish this tonight. Plus we have like 10 more hours.” Yoongi points around the room. It’s true you guys just needed to stay focussed. 

“Nah you have better things to worry about tonight. I’ll just force Wendy to help me when she gets in.” You wave your hand back and forth, leaving the closet. 

You make your way up and down the wing. Most patients were asleep and you would slip in just to make sure there was nothing you guys were missing or not being alerted about. You had pretty good systems and alarms to make sure that didn’t happen but you always liked to check just to make sure. Everyone seemed in good shape for the night, you decided to ends your rounds with checking in on Ji-eun. You poked your head into the room to find she was in fact awake. She was looking at something on her Ipad. The light dimmed. 

“What are you—” You step into the room, Ji-eun's attention pulled to you. At that moment your attention is immediately pulled to the couch that came into view. Someone was asleep there with blanket pulled over them and they were facing away. You drop your voice to a whisper. “Oh my god I’m so sorry. I didn’t know someone was here with you.” 

You try to backing out of the room, but Ji-eun waves for you to come back. Her voice also a whisper, “No no no come back in. I’m happy to see you, you’re never here this late.” 

A sigh of exhaustion leaves you, “Yeah one of the girls needed to switch shifts due to an emergency. So here I am.” 

“That’s nice of you. I can’t imagine overnight shifts are at all easy.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, setting her iPad to the side. 

“It’s alright. Dr. Min and Kay are good company.” Your attention is pulled back to the figure on the couch that shifts slightly. Maybe it was Ji-eun’s husband? You hadn’t had a chance to meet any of her family yet. They were never here when you usually worked. “Is that your husband?” 

Ji-eun looks over and then back to you with a shake of her head. “Oh no, this is one of my boys.” 

“Oh! How sweet he’s here with you.” You glance over and then back to her. 

“Yeah he must have arrived just barely before you. He’s had a long week and hadn’t been able to stop by. Then he fell asleep.” 

“Is this his first time coming to see you? Since you got here?” You found your curiosity peaked.

“Oh no no. He was with me the day I checked in and then he’s been here several times since. Always late like this.” She glances over then back to you. “I hope it’s okay he’s here.” 

Technically you really shouldn’t let family stay over night but it wasn’t a rule. More frowned upon due to some incidents in the past. “Usually we try not to allow it, but I’ll let it go for now.” You give her mischievous grin, and she laughs to herself. 

Ji-eun had an operation schedule for two weeks from now for the tumor in her leg to be removed. She was in high spirits about it. Removing that tumor would officially bring her back down to stage 3. The hope was that they could remove the whole thing.

Dr. Kim took a new biopsy earlier in the week and you learned this tumor was completely unrelated to the liver cancer, which was the original belief. Since the tumor had gotten down almost to the bone she would be off her feet for some time. She also will have to stop chemotherapy for a while until she heals from this operation. So mostly good things but concerning in terms of her cancer and how aggressive her case has been.

The current treatment hasn’t shown any signs of improvements to the tumors on her liver. It was still early so it was inconclusive. You could tell from the way Dr. Kim and Yoongi had been speaking about it that they were hoping for more improvement. Ji-eun hadn’t lost her spirit though. She was still so cheerful everyday you saw her and always had a story or smile to give. She’s made the weeks up here easier. In the time you’ve spent up here you have seen a few patients pass. Two just this week. You didn’t know them well but it was still tough. Especially because they were cases that had much better odds than most. Needless to say it weighed on you, so talking to Ji-eun made it easier. 

Vic and Yoongi had also done a good job at showing you how they handle it. In other specialties you don’t spend as much with the patients, little easier to become impersonal. Up here you have people who are here for weeks or months so you learn about them. Which makes it worse if they don’t pull through. 

“Why are you up so late?” You sit on the end of her bed, “You just had treatment on Tuesday, you need rest.”

“Just a touch of nausea it’ll pass.” She pats her stomach.

“Are you finally admitting to feeling it a little?” You say, talking about the chemo. Ji-eun had been doing well on this one and not shown any major symptoms yet. At least, that is what she was telling everyone. 

“A little.” She huffed, “Nothing serious. It’ll pass soon.” 

“I can get you something if you need. You don’t have to just tough it out, even though I know you try too.” You lean on one of your hands, your face falling into slight concern. 

“I'm tougher than you think. No chemo can get me down. Now you go. I’m sure you have plenty of work that needs to be done.” She tried to wave you out of the room, but you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve got a minute.” You glance over to her ever updating pile of crochet projects. “What are you working on right now?” 

Ji-eun glances to her pile. “I know it’s a big cliché, but I’m working on a few things for you and Victoria, and the docs.” She pull over some of her stuff, “It’s just scarves.” 

She pulls out one that looks to already be complete that is green and blue and red stripes. Another that is all red. 

“The stripped one is for Dr. Kim. The red is for Victoria. Felt fitting since she is so fiery, and Dr. Kim is so flamboyant.” She held them out to you, they were very well done. She picked a very oft thread for them as well so they were nice to touch.

“Oh these are lovely.” You fold them and lay them back down on the bed. “Dr. Kim will love his, I assure you.” 

“And this,” She reaches down on the side of the bed, “will be yours eventually.” She pull out a dark blue scarf that had stars being stitched throughout. It was still a work in progress, maybe about half way done? It was truly lovely so far. “I think it looks pretty good!” 

You give her a happy pout looking at it, “I love it. It’s so cute. I can’t wait to wear it.” 

“Well I better hurry up and get it done!” Her voice was a little louder than she intended, and whichever of Ji-eun's sons was on the couch stirred. “Whoops too loud. Can I get your opinion for Yoongi? I want to make him one but I’m not sure.” 

You thought for a moment if you should tell her to give him something outrageously bright just to see him feel forced to wear it. You decided against it though. “Probably something neutral. He’s not the flashy type. Maybe a black or grey.” 

“Awe I was hoping maybe he had a colorful streak hidden under that quiet exterior.” Her face twisted in annoyance, “Neutral it is.” 

You get yourself off the bed. It was time that you got back and continued your work. It was a nice little break but there was a lot left to be done tonight. 

“I must leave you now. If you need anything you know where we are.” You take a step towards the door. 

“I’ll try.” Ji-eun huffs with fake annoyance in her tone like you were a mom scolding her. 

You roll your eyes knowing she’s just going to continue to be tough about it. You turn to the door before something catches your attention before stepping out. It was subtle and you hadn’t noticed it before but you definitely smelt it now. 

Just a faint smell of cigarette. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

After a long and grueling night. Your shift was coming to an end. You and Yoongi, with the help of Wendy another night nurse, you managed to get a good jump on inventory. The rest of the night you mostly just did paperwork and bothered Yoongi when you could. No major issues except you were not really built for a night shift. About an hour ago you took advantage and stowed yourself away to get a tiny bit of rest in an on call room. With your slumber abruptly interrupted. 

“Rise and shine baby girl!” Vic hit her leg on the side of the bunk you were sleeping in. Rattling it and you awake.

With an angry grunt you rolled over to look at her. “You’re so obnoxious.” 

“I’m here to relieve you. Get up.” She holds a hand out to you to help you get to your feet. “How was last night?”

“Not bad.” You yawn and stretch your arms straight into the air. You fill her in on some other details and you both leave the on call room and walk back to the nurses station. Giving her some updates on what you and Kay did in the night. 

You collected some of your stuff from the desk when you overheard some of the other girls you worked with talking. 

“Okay but like you saw him.” Lana, a new hire here, leaning on both of her hands swiveling from side to side in her chair. Dramatically star struck. 

“You were right, hot.” Angel, another girl who usually works opposite shifts of you. So you haven’t gotten to know her much. 

“Ladies,” Vic interrupted arms folded, “I think we have better things we could be doing?” 

“Yeah but Lana’s crush was here. So she’s all distracted now.” Angel rolled her eyes, nudging Lana to come out of her dream state. You laugh under your breath. 

“Who’s her crush?” You breath, balancing your stuff in your arms. Looking between the two of them.

Lana groaned, “I don’t actually know his name. I’m just pretty sure he’s Ji-euns son. You had to have seen him Y/N, you’re on her case.” She looked to you, her pupils practically turning into little hearts.

“I actually haven’t met any of Ji-eun’s family. I’ll see what I can find out.” You yawn thinking back on it. Sad Ji-eun’s been excited to introduce you to her family and you just barely missed him. Maybe next time. 

“Get his name as soon as possible please. So Lana can bug you about it instead of me.” Angel got up from the desk, walking away as quickly as she could. You and Vic watch her go in her annoyance and you both have amused smiles. 

“I’m sure you could just ask. Ji-eun uses any opportunity to talk about her family.” You pat Lana on the shoulder, “Hope he’s everything you hope he is.” 

���Me too.” Lana gets up as well taking a tablet with her in a day dreamy walk. 

“Don’t encourage her. She’s new so she doesn’t need to get her hopes high. ”Vic nudged you. She was mostly teasing. 

“Hey, we need some new entertainment around here other than Yoongi. I’m just sad her crush isn’t on him so we don’t get to tease him about it.” You laugh, just then Seokjin and Yoongi were rounding the corner. 

“Good morning my wonderful staff.” Seokjin beamed between you and Vic. Vic narrowing her eyes at Seokjin already. Oh he’s in for a long day. 

“You didn’t sign your charts last night.” She taps her finger impatiently. Yoongi trying to hide. “Yoongi this goes for you two, and you have no excuse you were here all night.” 

You place a hand on her, “To be fair he really helped us out with the medicine and inventory count.” 

She huffs, “Okay fine you’re off the hook. You sir,” pointing back to Seokjin. “You’re gonna sit and do it before you do anything else today.” 

“What’s with the hostility? To think I bought treats for you today and this is the thanks I get?” Seokjin sniffs and fake wipes his eyes. 

“I’ll be less hostile when you sign your charts.” She barks.

You decide you need to slip out now before the blood bath begins. You made your way home in record time. You were desperate to sleep in your own bed because you were finally going to see Melanie tonight. You were so excited that her and Namjoon were back, and tonight would be all in good fun. Or at least you hoped it would. 

Jungkook's annoying presence would certainly be something to handle… considering. 

You couldn’t even think straight as you crashed on your bed. You didn’t even bother to change, just letting the weight of the night overtake you. It felt like a blink of an eye though as it was suddenly 6 pm. You needed to get up and get ready for sure now. You had roughly about an hour before you needed to be getting out the door. So you shower the night off and dress casually, you had a feeling you may be crashing there tonight so you didn’t need to look amazing. 

You certainly didn’t feel too amazing, exhausted really. 

After too long you were arriving and knocking on the front door. Namjoon and Melanie had a very nice townhome, it wasn’t decorated in a typical fashion. It was always very warm and welcoming and homey. You tended to hang out here a lot because of how good of a job they did at making it so nice. Unfortunately that did involve many night where you, Ash, and Melanie overtake the house and Namjoon is left sleeping in the guest room or downstairs. He really didn’t mind but you always felt a little bad. 

With a swift swing open of the door Melanie was who you came face to face with. “Finally! My knight in shining armor has arrived!” Melanie swooned against the door frame. 

“My darling I’ve return from war!” You step inside and are immediately enveloped into a hug. It was so nice to finally have her back. You didn’t want to bug her with anything while her and Namjoon were away but now it was free game. “I need to hear every detail about your trip.” 

“Oh trust me I’ve got a whole presentation prepared.” She keeps an arm around you as you enter the house. 

The entryway was a long hallway with tall ceilings, stairs lined one wall, with entrance to the living room first and then just up the hall entrance to the kitchen. A small bathroom tucked under the stairs. 

“Oh I can’t wait.” You giggle and rub your hands together, “I need something to eat though I’m starving.” 

“Oh there’s plenty of food so help yourself. We’ve got all night.” She pulled you into the living room where you were greeted with Ash and Namjoon in a heated debate about what looked like a just finished match of Mario kart. Taehyung was sprawled out on the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. Melanie sat down on the opposite love seat leaving you standing, 

You squat down to Taehyung's eye level, “What was it this time? Eleventh or twelve?” 

He fakes sobs, “If there was a thirteenth place they would make it for me.” You snort and ruffle his hair. 

“You’ll get him next time.” You sit down on the love seat with Melanie laying your legs across her lap. 

“You don’t want to sit with me?” Taehyung sat up on the couch with a puppy dog look in his eye. 

“I need some Melanie time tonight. I’ll give you my attention another time.” You say but Taehyung still played sad. 

“Mel! Back me up! He so cheated!” Ash erupted between the three of you, pointing to Namjoon accusingly. 

“I did not!” Namjoon quipped back, “She’s the one who was trying to shove me the entire time!”

“I’m not getting in the middle of you two and your stupid Mario kart rivalry again! I made that mistake once and I almost got my head bitten off for it.” Melanie grumbled in annoyance at the two of them. They both deflated but still were annoyed. 

“You know how competitive they get, why let them play?” You ask, raising an eyebrow to Taehyung and Melanie. 

“I left the room for five seconds and suddenly they were deep into it by then.” Melanie raised her hands in innocence. You believed it, Ash and Namjoon had a years long running tally of Mario kart wins. They always stayed neck and neck and it was very serious for them. You were okay at it, always coming out somewhere in the middle. 

“Well I need a drink if this is how the night is going to continue.” You get back up from your seat. 

“There’s tons of wine please drink it.” Namjoon called after you, you gave a thumbs up behind you in response. Heading down to the kitchen. 

Rounding your way into the in there really was tons of snacks and food at the ready on the island counter. You imagine Melanie had meant to bring it into the living room but got sucked into the game with the others. 

You pick a random bottle, opening it and pouring yourself a glass. It was pretty good for a random pick. You balance your glass, the bottle, and a armful of snacks bringing them with you to the living room to lay them out on the coffee table. 

“Oh thank you.” Melanie beamed, taking a bag of chips from you. 

“I figured they got left behind in the gaming escapades. This wine is also nice.” You take another sip from your glass, setting the bottle down. 

Melanie takes the bottle holding it up to Namjoon, he also looks at it, “Joonie, where did we get this one?” 

“Jungkook got it as a gift.” Namjoon nodded when seeing the bottle. 

Taehyung dramatically held onto the nearest object. You gave him a funny look.

“Sorry Jungkook's name was mentioned in your presence. Thought I should prepare for a disaster.” He teased, you hit him on the shoulder.

“I’m not that dramatic.” You settle down on the couch next to him. “Here I’ll give him a compliment right now. He can pick out a nice wine. Let’s hope it’s not poison.” 

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpanned, clutching his chest. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Anyways, what’s going on with you these days.” You look at Taehyung. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.” 

“I tried to catch up with you at emo night but seems you got stolen away.” Taehyung says and it makes you take a slight moment of pause. Taehyung said it that way on purpose. Knowing what he knows, “You know cause you went home early.” 

You nod, playing it cool. “Yeah I had too much. It was good I called it early because it could have gotten messy.” 

“Probably smart, a little too much to drink can make us do some questionable things.” Taehyung says it almost with some suggestion, like trying to point to a certain subject. It didn’t slip by you, it felt too intentional. 

“Yeah, I guess?” You play it off, “Anyways, any new girl I can hear about as of late? Any crazy stories you got for me?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’ve taken a little break lately. Trying to be serious.” 

“Really? You?” You cock an eyebrow. 

“Nah,” He smirks, “What about you? Anyone wrapped around your finger at the moment?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, Taehyung had a way of trying to subtly gets answers. Him asking about your love life never comes without a catch. Last time it was a blind date he wanted to set you up on. “No. I’m not really looking right now.” 

He slowly nods his head, his stare a bit too intense for comfort. “Very interesting.” 

“Okay what are you planning? If you're planning on giving my number out to someone can I at least know who and why?” You groan, leaning your head on the back of the couch looking up to the ceiling. 

“No I wouldn't do that to you… again. I’m just confirming a solution to a problem I’m working on.” 

You wanted to probe further into what Taehyung was talking about, but decided to just leave it. Whatever he had cooking up in his mind could not be good. Better to not indulge him. 

The night buzzed with the hum of wine-fueled laughter, the clink of glasses, and a playlist that had long since fallen victim to the chaos of too many requests. You were tipsy, just enough to feel bold and carefree, your giggles blending seamlessly with the chatter around you.

Ash, Melanie, and you had claimed the big couch as your domain, limbs tangled in a haphazard heap. Your head rested in Ash’s lap, where she was absently braiding and unbraiding sections of your hair, likely creating a disaster you'd deal with tomorrow. Namjoon and Taehyung had been exiled to the love seat and the floor, making them easy targets for your drunken commentary.

This was how these nights always went—wine, games, and an inevitable retreat to Namjoon and Melanie’s room, where the three of you would indulge in a late-night slumber party like teenagers.

Just then a ring from the doorbell sounded through the house. Announcing the arrival of the demon spawn. Namjoon sprung up from his spot and trotted to the door. You could hear a few voices echo in the hall before Namjoon and Jungkook reentered the room with some laughs. 

“Golden boy finally arrived.” Taehyung held his arms up in celebration. The wine in his glass almost flinging everywhere. 

You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure they’d get stuck. Melanie wiggled her way out from under your legs to give Jungkook a hug, which he returned with genuine warmth. You looked away, muttering under your breath, “Great, now we’re all blessed by his presence.”

Melanie beamed, entirely ignoring your sarcasm. “Okay, now that everyone’s here, we can finally show pictures from the trip!” She dashed out of the room and returned moments later with her laptop, bounding around everyone and hooking it up to the TV.

“Oh you actually had a presentation prepared?” You laugh at her and Melanie rolls her eyes. 

“Yes,” Melanie retorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll like it. Now, everyone, sit.” 

Melanie urges Namjoon and Jungkook to sit back down. Namjoon took the available spot next to Taehyung, which left the spot your legs currently occupied the only place left. 

The command turned the room into a musical chairs scramble. Namjoon reclaimed his spot by Taehyung, leaving the couch seat you were sprawled across as the only one open.

Jungkook eyed the seat with a smirk and crossed his arms. “Guess you’ll have to move.”

Without budging an inch, you waved dismissively at the floor. “There’s plenty of space down there.” 

Jungkook, tilted his head, tongue in cheek. He should have expected the immediate annoyance he would get from you being here. Taehyung watched from the other couch with bated breath, sipping on his wine. 

“Oh this looks like such a comfortable spot though.” Without warning Jungkook places his butt right on top of your legs. Sighing joyfully, it was not comfortable but the face you were making was worth it. 

Ash immediately burst out laughing, her hands still tangled in your hair. “I mean, he’s not wrong. You’re pretty cozy.”

“Get off.” You groan, tugging your legs out from under him and sitting up straight.

Jungkook stretched out leisurely, claiming the newly vacated spot with a satisfied smirk. "Ah, much better."

You narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to shove him off the couch entirely. Taehyung, still observing from his perch with an amused glint in his eye, raised his glass in toast. "And just like that, our main event is underway."

"You're enjoying this way too much," you snapped at Taehyung, who simply shrugged and sipped his wine.

Melanie clapped her hands, reclaiming everyone's attention. "Alright, children, settle down. You're distracting from my masterpiece here." She gestured to the TV, where the first picture from their trip was already displayed: a stunning view of a mountain range bathed in golden light.

The room collectively oohed and aahed, and Melanie launched into a detailed explanation of the hike they had to endure to get the shot. Namjoon chimed in with a few quips about Melanie nearly slipping on a rock, which earned him a playful swat on the arm.

Ash, kept you grounded in your spot so you didn’t push Jungkook away. He didn’t try to antagonize you again. He stayed settled to his spot and his attention on Melanie. Staying engaged with everyone except you. You got another drink into you during the presentation and so did Ash. both of your giggling every now and then on your side of the couch. Entertaining yourselves thoroughly. 

Jungkook just stayed as far on his side as he could. Didn’t mean something else was happening. Because Taehyung was texting him. 

Tae: So are you going to talk to y/n tonight??????

Tae: I think you should ;)

Tae: Remember just keep it casual!!!

Tae: Could lead to… well you know… again ;)

Tae: I’ll even break the ice

Tae: ;)

Tae: Should be an interesting evening

Jungkook would look every once in a while and not dignify Taehyung with a response. Jungkook could feel Taehyung’s eyes also boring into the side of his head in anticipation. He was looking for that spark, maybe there was something much more going on here. 

After a little while, the wine was really getting to you. As well as your messed up sleep schedule making you fuzzy. Warm. You were watching Melanie talking about some trail her and Namjoon followed and got lost along as your attention was caught to Jungkook moving his hand to run through his hair. Settling it back down into his lap. It caught your attention for a moment and it felt like it moved in slow motion. Then without even realizing you were staring at his hands in his lap. 

He was fidgeting with his fingers. Probably mindlessly playing with them. Your mind began to drift though, because you know those hands now. You know they are much softer than they initially look. They were warm and strong. His fingers are long and slender, pretty even. Pretty in an artistic way, almost. A memory of them running all over your body imprinted on your mind. Being pulled to the surface. 

Almost too quickly you felt like your face was on fire. The memory coming in small flashes. A laugh to a messy drunken make out in a fluorescent bathroom. Your lips finding their way to his skin. Then being in his apartment and stripping down together. Then suddenly being laid back. First his fingers and and then his tongue painting you with pleasure. You could see his hands in your mind so clearly, then suddenly his eyes. Looking back at you, while he took you over the edge. 

You need to stop. You shook your head and adjusted in your seat almost too quickly. You cannot be thinking about this right now. What is wrong with you? It had to be the wine, you always got somewhat horny when you drank wine. You settled back into your spot, playing it cool. Your eyes danced around the room for a moment. Pulling yourself back down to earth. Keep it together, you are better than this. 

Your eyes glanced at Jungkook for one second. Not even trying to look but you caught him right as he was playing with his lip ring with his tongue. Forcing your eyes to look back to Melanie and the screen. 

Pay attention to the presentation. 

Your foggy conscience easily betrayed you though. This time, quiet and patient kisses in an elevator. Then a dark hotel room. An image of Jungkook standing above you saying please. Then him placed behind you, slipping himself inside–

You take in a sharp breath in through the nose. You begin to pick your own nails. Surely if you keep your hands busy you can keep your mind distracted. Yes you were a little tipsy and you were having flashbacks but you can fight this. Remember he’s gross, awful, and has said horrible things to you. He drives you insane. 

You will not let your tipsy mind flow to... Jungkook. 

You decided you needed to get some ice cold water. The pictures wrapped up, Melanie’s enthusiastic commentary dwindling to polite applause as everyone shifted back to casual conversation. You decided it was the perfect moment to escape, slipping away toward the kitchen with quick, deliberate steps. The quiet was immediate and welcome, wrapping around you like a shield.

Getting yourself a glass and getting some water from the sink. Sipping it quickly, letting the coolness slow your mind.

The reprieve didn’t last long.

You heard the floorboards creak and glanced up just in time to see Jungkook stroll into the kitchen. His presence was impossible to ignore. He didn’t look at you at first, but you felt him there, his every move trying to pull at your attention like a gravitational force.

Your grip on the glass tightened reflexively.

“Jungkook.” Your voice was flat, carefully devoid of emotion.

“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone, brushing past you to grab a glass of his own. His voice carried a teasing edge, but there was something else—something softer underneath.

The silence that followed was sharp and deliberate, the air thick with unspoken words. Jungkook could easily toss out some snarky comment to rile you up, it was practically his trademark, but he didn’t. Not this time.

Instead, he lingered, standing just close enough for the faint scent of his cologne to drift your way. Cedarwood, or something like that. It was annoyingly intoxicating.

You busied yourself with your phone, scrolling aimlessly. A quiet laugh escaped you at something you saw, but it felt too loud in the stillness, too revealing.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook finally broke the silence. “How are you?”

You blinked at your phone, unsure if you’d heard him right. Slowly, you glanced his way. “What?”

“How are you?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his movements almost shy.

“Why?”

“I’m making conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what people do, Y/N. They talk.” His tone had a touch of exasperation, but his lips curled into a faint smirk. “Just answer the question. You’re not going to combust if you do.”

You hesitated, the urge to deflect warring with the odd sincerity in his gaze. “I’m good,” you said finally, though it felt like pulling teeth. “Exhausted, but good.”

“How come?”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him. Was this a setup? “I worked an overnight shift last night,” you said cautiously. “So my sleep schedule is all over the place.”

“Overnight shift, huh?” Jungkook turned to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied you. “And you still showed up tonight?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “I missed Melanie and Namjoon. We usually crash here after these things.”

“Crash?” He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah.” You smiled despite yourself. “Mel, Ash, and I take over Namjoon and Melanie’s room after too much wine.”

Jungkook let out a low laugh, the sound unexpectedly warm. “That explains it. Namjoon was muttering about an invasion yesterday. Makes sense now.”

You laughed lightly, the tension between you softening for a moment. “Yeah, invasion is probably accurate. If you and Taehyung weren’t here, the living room would already be in ruins.”

Jungkook moved then, stepping toward the sink to fill his glass. The motion was smooth, casual, but you couldn’t ignore how close he came, the heat of his body brushing against yours. The scent of his cologne floating your way one more time. You took a small step to the side, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

He seemed to notice your shift but didn’t comment, his gaze flickering to you for a split second before returning to his glass.

You cleared your throat, your voice quieter than you intended. “How are you?”

Jungkook stilled, glancing at you with something like surprise. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his dark eyes searching your face like he was trying to decide if you meant it.

“I’m alright,” he said finally, his tone subdued. “Busy, though. I’m in the middle of a trial.”

“Right,” you said, nodding. “Lawyer stuff.”

A small, wry smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, lawyer stuff.”

“What kind of trial?” you asked, surprising even yourself.

He hesitated, as if weighing whether to tell you. Finally, he said, “It’s a class-action case. Workers suing their company for unpaid wages. I’m representing them.”

Your eyebrows lifted, genuinely impressed. “Wow. Didn’t expect you to be on the workers’ side.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured vaguely. “Knee jerk reaction. I typically expect the worst from you. Most people would go for the big paycheck.”

A low chuckle escaped him, warm and deep. He couldn’t blame you for jumping to a conclusion after all these years. “Fair enough. It was the right thing to do though.” Jungkook rubs on his neck another time. You noticed it, he had done it a couple of times tonight. Almost like it was bothering him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You tighten your eyebrows together, Jungkook’s eyes meeting yours for just a moment before darting away. 

“Oh,” He twists his neck trying to relieve the discomfort. “My neck is just hurting. I think I slept wrong.” 

“You could take something, or there are some stretches I know that can help.” You begin to look around the kitchen seeing if you can find some ibuprofen. Your hurriedness surprised Jungkook. Threw him off balance. 

“I already took something but didn’t seem to help. Still some pain.” His eyes tracked you round the kitchen as you continued your search. 

“Well I’ll show you the stretches then, grab a chair.” You exhale, nodding your head to one of the chairs at the dining table. 

Jung walked over and pulled one of the chairs out and took a seat. You hesitated for a moment before you stood right behind him. Your hands hovered hesitantly above his shoulders. What the hell were you doing? 

“Are you okay if I just do it… t-to show you how?” You say hesitantly. 

Jungkook doesn’t look back to you but finds himself rather… nervous even. Had you gotten him in the perfect position to actually just strangle you out? Were these his final moments? 

“Just don’t kill me… but yeah go for it.” He nodded, not looking back to you. 

“Okay. Just relax.” 

Jungkook feels you place one hand on his left shoulder, making sure his posture stays back and your other hand resting on the top of his head gently pushing it forward. Jungkook could feel a small pull in his neck stretching it out. The pain was on the right side so this was too bad. Your hand on his shoulder was touching some of the skin on his neck and it felt like it was burning into him. It was quiet, just your quiet breathing filling the room. 

“So you lean your head forward and then you roll your head side to side,” you murmured, guiding his head gently to the left Your voice was softer than you’d intended, the quiet of the kitchen making every word feel heavier.

Jungkook’s breathing hitched slightly, though you weren’t sure if it was from the stretch or the weight of your hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you realized with a jolt that your fingers lingered longer than necessary.

“You should feel a pull right along here.” You hovered for a second, but drew a line along his neck where the muscle was tense. Trying to focus on the task and not the way your voice seemed to tremble.

Your touch made Jungkook want to wiggle away from you. So light but almost electric. His mind drifted away somewhat, almost remembering last week but he kept himself grounded in the present.

“Yeah,” he replied, the pull was slightly painful but felt good. “It’s… helping.” His words were simple, but something about the way he said them made your stomach flip.

You adjusted your hand, sliding it to the other side of his head to tilt it gently to the left. “And this?” You kept your eyes focused on the wall now, You had already spent too much time looking… and thinking about his hands tonight. You didn’t need to think about his neck. 

Jungkook exhaled, a slow, deep sound that felt too intimate in the quiet space. “Better,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“It also helps to roll in circles slowly too. Trying to stretch those muscles as far as you can. You want to feel the pull.” You remove your hand, but keep them on his shoulders as he rolls his head around in slow circles. 

The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light, felt suspended in time. The sounds from the living room—muted laughter, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of louder conversation—faded into the background. It was just you, Jungkook, and the lingering ghost of your touch on his skin.

Your hands had rested on his shoulders longer than they should have. Neither of you had acknowledged it, though Jungkook had noticed. He couldn’t stop noticing. The weight of your touch, light but grounding, had felt entirely different from the energy you normally exuded around him.

Gentle.

It made his pulse quicken, a response he tried desperately to suppress. But his mind betrayed him, conjuring thoughts he had no business entertaining such as your hands moving from his shoulders, sliding down his chest, fingers tracing his jawline—

He swallowed hard, forcing himself back to reality. Because that feeling was there again, that small guilty twist in his stomach. What he had been telling Taehyung about bubbled up. He still couldn’t name it, because guilt didn’t feel right. It wasn’t that but it felt so strange. What was that?

Almost like the universe had heard his struggle, Taehyung appeared in the doorway, a wide grin already plastered on his face. His eyes scanned the scene quickly, locking onto Jungkook still seated and you standing just behind him.

“Oh my god it’s finally happening. Y/N is going to strangle you out!” Taehyung gasped and threw his hands over his mouth dramatically, “Y/N please spare him! He’s a good boy!”

You laugh to yourself, stepping back from Jungkook letting your hands fall away from him. The absence of touch is almost louder than the conflict itself. “I’m not strangling him,” you said, crossing your arms and giving Taehyung a look. “This time. Now roll your shoulders back.” you instructed Jungkook, stepping even farther away as if to reestablish boundaries.

Jungkook complied without a word, rotating his shoulders as you’d shown him. He tilted his head from side to side, testing the stretch. When his gaze flicked back to you, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“I do it for patients all the time, the hospital beds are notoriously uncomfortable.” You replied, shrugging as if it were nothing. Your arms stayed crossed, a subtle shield against the shift in energy between you. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing,” he said, his words soft but lingering. His eyes stayed on you a fraction too long, enough to make your chest tighten and your cheeks warm.

Taehyung, clearly enjoying himself, stepped farther into the kitchen. His smile widened, but he kept his tone light. “What exactly were you doing?”

“I slept weird last night,” Jungkook interjected, standing up from the chair and adjusting it neatly back under the table. “My neck’s been hurting all day. Y/N was just showing me some stretches to help.”

Taehyung hummed, unconvinced. His gaze darted between you and Jungkook like he was piecing together a puzzle. “Right. Stretching. Sure.”

You decide this is your chance to escape out of here. You pick up your glass and exit the kitchen quickly to rejoin the others in the living room. The kitchen was quieter now that you’d left, though the tension you’d unintentionally abandoned seemed to cling to the air like static. Taehyung leaned against the counter, his grin infuriatingly smug as he watched Jungkook refill his glass of water, the younger man pointedly ignoring him.

“If I had shown up even a second later, you two would’ve probably stripped naked,” Taehyung said.

Jungkook groaned, turning his back on him to hide his flushed face. “We were only talking.”

Taehyung nodded sagely, his expression far too knowing. “Oh, sure. Just talking. Nothing else. Completely innocent. Two people practically pressed against each other in a dimly lit kitchen, having a totally platonic chat.”

Jungkook shot him a glare. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung replied smoothly. “But it’s part of my charm. So, what was it really? A nice heart-to-heart, or were you two silently fighting like usual?”

Jungkook paused, his hand tightening briefly on his glass. “No… no, actually. It was just a conversation. Awkward, but… maybe the most normal we’ve spoken to each other in years.”

Taehyung’s grin widened as he pushed off the counter, his eyes alight with mischief. “Told you.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m always right and you know it.” 

“No you’re not.”

“She was sweet, though, wasn’t she?” Taehyung continued, his voice quieter now, his teasing edge softening. “Almost shy? Kind, even?”

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze fixed on the countertop. He hated how easily Taehyung saw through him, but there was no use denying it. “...Yeah,” he admitted grudgingly, barely above a whisper.

Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder, his grin shifting into something genuine. “See? Progress. Keep trying.”

Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck where your touch still lingered faintly. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

Taglist!:@akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl @kookienooki @btstrology @in-out-inbetween @kookienooki

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

[guilty-pleasures21]

Great cause I've been thinking about something for days-

Jason x Reader but-

Sometimes Jason can't get home in time. It's not that he wants to take so long, but all this mess of missions and patrols and all that crap always seems to get in his way.

Still, since he loves his girl so much, Jason doesn't mind calling her just to tell her he's coming as fast as he can and ask if she's all right.

He's just in love, guys, what can he do?

By the way, he also loves to say what he's going to do with his pretty girl when he gets home as well.

- 💚

Firstly, I would like to apologise for how long this has taken: I was not ignoring you, I was just finding it really difficult to come up with enough of a storyline to write a fic out of 😅.

Secondly, I know this deviates from what you asked for, but I do hope that you still like it 🥺. I just thought it would be really funny to write Jason being all shy and flustered for a change ☺️.

NEVERTHELESS! If I have disappointed you, please don’t hesitate to drop me another message and I will do my best at another attempt! I love you, babe 🥺.

The call

Warnings: an explicit phone call and an explicit description of a handjob (m receiving).

----------------------------------------------------------

     “Hood?” X asked, her sweet voice wafting out of his communication device and filling his ears. “Are you gonna be done soon?” 

     “Hmm?” Jason hummed distractedly, keeping an eye on Penguin’s goons as they moved in and out of one of his secret warehouses. “Yeah, ba-”

     His eyes grew wide as he caught himself quickly: no one else in the batfamily knew that he and his best friend had started dating a while ago and the two of them had wanted to put off dealing with the chaos that would ensue once they found out for as long as they possibly could. Jason slid his gaze over to Dick, nervously gauging his reaction, then he cleared his throat when his brother seemed to take no notice. “Yeah, Nightingale. Their new shipment should be reaching here in eleven minutes. We plan on moving in then.” 

     “Okay, sweetheart,” X replied, her voice taking on a mischievous tone that had Jason’s core heating up with nerves. “I can’t wait for you to get home, baby. I’m gonna have you all to myself for the next week, right, Jay?” 

     Jason swallowed hard and stole another quick glance at Dick. No reaction. Jason exhaled in relief and let out another little cough before responding to his wicked girlfriend. “Right. This should deal a substantial blow to their operations. The others can help stage attacks on their other warehouses in the meantime.” 

     “Oh, is that so?” X asked, rolling over onto her stomach and getting herself comfortable on Jason’s bed. She’d always stay over at his apartment whenever he had to stay late on a mission - she didn’t like the thought of him coming home to an empty house, especially if he’d had to be physically violent with someone. She’d known about his PTSD and used to stay over at his place even before they’d started dating, comforting him when he awoke from a nightmare or coaxing him out a panic attack in the middle of the night. He’d only ever let her be privy to such vulnerable sides of him and she’d told him honestly that that was why she’d started falling in love with him. “You gonna pass the buck on to the others so you can come home and take care of your lonely little girlfriend?” 

     Jason’s breath caught in his throat at the pout he could hear in her voice. Was she at his place? She probably was, but … was she on his sofa? Relaxing in front of the television as she teased him? Or … was she … somewhere more … intimate? In something more intimate? Jason ground his teeth together, wrestling between the need to keep himself focused on the mission before him and the sudden desire to find out exactly what his ‘lonely little girlfriend’ was doing in his apartment right then. “Of course I’m wearing all my gear, Nightingale. Got to make sure we’re properly covered up before we bust in there and start taking everyone out.” 

     X bit her lip at the subtle question hidden within his words: he wanted to know what she was wearing. 

     “‘Properly covered up’?” she repeated, kicking her legs in the air behind her. “Mmm, that sounds … like the opposite of what I am right now, Jay; lying here on your bed, all spread out on your soft sheets as they caress my bare skin.” Her boyfriend sucked in a breath over the comms and X’s stomach flipped as she pictured the expression he was probably wearing right then: thick brows furrowed in confusion as he figured out how to respond, beautiful green eyes glazed over as he imagined her lying naked on his bed, sharp jawline tensing with frustration as he forced himself to pay attention to his mission. Shit, he was hot. 

     X flipped over onto her back and moaned softly as the thought of her deliciously sexy boyfriend filled her mind. “Mmm, but you know how much I love seeing you all dressed up in your Red Hood outfit. Your tight little carbon fibre suit stretched so perfectly over all your delicious muscles. Mmm, you’re so hot, Jay! I wish you were here so I could just pounce on you and trace all your sexy muscles with my tongue …” 

     A soft gasp escaped his lips at her dirty words and Jason swore his heart stopped when Dick turned to raise an eyebrow at him in question. Jason shook his head slightly, reassuring him that everything was fine and thankfully, Dick returned his attention to the warehouse. “Nine minutes.” 

     “Oooh, is that a challenge, sweetheart?” X asked, delighting in the sudden hoarseness in his voice. He was always so smooth and sexy whenever they were alone, teasing and touching and tasting every inch of her body until she was breathless with lust, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. But now … “There’s a reason they call it ‘seven minutes in heaven’, darling. But … I’m feeling generous tonight knowing I’m going to have you all to myself for the next week, so … I’ll finish in five … if you let me top you tonight.” 

     He let out a choked gasp at the image her words conjured up in his mind: him lying helplessly on his bed while she rode him into his mattress, her soft hair brushing the curves of her full breasts, her pearly teeth sinking into her lower lip in ecstasy, her perfect body sliding up and down on his cock at exactly the pace she wanted to go at. And unfortunately for him, Dick did take notice this time. 

     “Hood? What’s wrong?” His voice was firm as he spoke, authoritative and confident, and Jason quickly waved him away so he wouldn’t start panicking. 

     “Just a hiccup,” he lied. “I’m fine. Truck should be arriving in eight minutes.” 

     “Is Dick there?” X asked, her tone alight with mischief at the revelation that the two of them were right next to each other while she was talking dirty to him. “Has he been there the whole time?!” 

     “Yes,” Jason replied softly, lowering his voice so Dick wouldn’t grow even more suspicious by his continued conversation with a member of their team not currently involved in the mission at hand. Shit. He should just hang up, shouldn’t he? End the call now before he reached a point where he couldn’t physically hide the evidence of what his best friend was doing to him right then. Shit. Think gross thoughts, Jason, he counselled himself, like … bugs! Cockroaches, especially! Ugh! Nasty little things with their hairy legs and their spindly antennae and ugh, he was going to be sick. But at least he wasn’t getting aroused anymore - though the brief respite didn’t seem like it would last long anyway. 

     “How naughty of you, sweetheart!” X laughed, oblivious to - or most likely ignoring - her supposed-to-be-secret boyfriend’s stressful predicament right then. “Letting your girlfriend talk dirty to you with your brother standing right next to you? Mmm, I didn’t know you could be so naughty, baby.” 

     Jason clenched his fists and focused his thoughts on his breathing, trying to keep it deep and steady so his body wouldn’t get excited and start redirecting his blood towards his core. But he must have been a glutton for punishment because he just couldn’t bring himself to end the call. 

     “And- Oh my god!” X exclaimed, a realisation suddenly taking over her thoughts. “He doesn’t even know! Your brother doesn’t even know that you started dating your best friend, baby! What’s he going to think, love?! What’s he going to think when he hears your best friend saying such naughty things to you? When he hears the innocent little Nightingale saying such dirty things to her best guy friend?

     “Do you think he’s going to think I’m just practising, baby?” X asked, getting more and more thrilled by the idea of Dick finding them out via such a compromising situation. She sat up on Jason’s bed, suddenly feeling extremely hot under her pyjamas, and tugged her shirt off, tossing it aside. “Do you think he’s going to think that I’m just practising having sex with you?! Letting you touch me and tease me and taste me just so I can get to know what it feels like?” 

     She let out a low chuckle at the thought and Jason shivered as the tantalising sound travelled teasingly down his spine. And, f*ck him, now he couldn’t get the thought of her naked body out of his mind! She was just so delicious, her plush breasts, her smooth skin, her slender neck, her pert ass, her- F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f******ck! Cockroaches! Focus on the cockroaches! 

     “But how could anyone else ever do it for me after you, baby?” X pressed, slipping her bottoms off and crawling under the covers. “You’re so hot, Jay! With your long fingers and your rough skin and your hard muscles and argh! Oh God, Jay, your … How are you so good with your tongue?!” 

     Argh, f*ck. He could feel his pants tightening around his crotch at the sound of her shallow breaths - at the indication of her touching herself while she thought about him. But shit! Did she really find him so hot that just the thought of him was enough to get her off?! F*******ck! 

     “Hood?!” Jason startled as Dick bumped his shoulder suddenly, snatching him out of his reverie. “Hood, they’re at the intersection of Apple and Kyle.” 

     “Three minutes,” Jason recited, the words coming automatically as he glanced at the countdown in the corner of his screen. His eyes flickered over to the icon of his best friend’s face, her cute little smile pointed straight at him from the upper right corner of his screen, and he swallowed hard when it lit up as she began speaking again.

     “I’m … I’m coming, Jay!” she promised, her voice getting breathy and high-pitched as she approached her edge. “I’m gonna come for you, okay, baby? I’m … Just imagining … your long fingers inside of my p*ssy … your lips sucking my neck … your chest … Nngh! Bite me, Jay! Bite … Hngrh, shit! J-Jason! Jason! I love you, Jason! I … Oh God, you’re so hot! So … So deliciously hot, Jay … How the hell are you so frickin’ hot, Jason?! Mmm, shit.” 

     Jason panted heavily, feeling as if he’d just come down from his high as well, and studiously avoided Dick’s gaze. Thank f*cking god he had his full helmet on - he could feel the blush racing up the back of his neck and bolting across his cheeks, blatantly giving away all the naughty things his best friend had been murmuring in his ear as she’d come to the thought of him. F*******ck! He was … He was never picking up another call from her again when he was on a mission - she’d just have to ring up the watchtower if she needed any help next time. Jason reached for his watch, meaning to end the call as his countdown continued ticking down to the one minute mark now, but his girlfriend didn’t seem to be done with him just yet. 

     “Come back soon, okay, baby?” she pleaded, her tone relaxed now that she’d gotten some of the excitement out of her system. “It’s just not the same without you, Jay. I … I can’t make myself come the way you do!”

     Jason lowered his head and sighed, feeling himself about to f*cking cry with frustration at her desperate words. Could you even cry out of of f*cking desperation?! Shit, maybe she’d broken him or something. He was going to have to get back at her for it later. 

     “You just know me so well, baby,” X purred, that same wicked mischief inching its way back into her voice again. “Nobody knows me better than my best friend - nobody knows how to make me come better than my best friend does, Jay. After all, you’ve been getting so much practice, right, baby?” 

     “Shit,” Jason hissed, his defeated exhalation finally letting her know that he’d reached his limit with her. X giggled softly, but decided to ease up on him: he still had an important mission to go on, after all, and she wanted him safe and back in his bed as quickly as possible. 

     “I’ll see you later, baby. Love you, Jay!” 

     “Ngh,” Jason grunted, relieved to have control over his own thoughts again. “We’ll talk later.” He hung up the call, then glanced over at Dick, letting him know that he was ready to go. Dick nodded and pulled his escrima sticks out of their sheaths as he got into position. 

     “On my count. Ready? One, two, three!” 

     Jason tugged the collar of his shirt, already sick of the tight suit he’d been forced into for the gala Bruce was throwing that night. It was meant to be a fundraiser for some charity, but of course the rich socialites of Gotham just saw it as an opportunity to parade around their undeserving wealth. And try to land one of the billionaire Bruce Wayne’s eligible young sons if they had the chance. Jason sighed when Clara Yang’s keen gaze landed on him, picking him out as soon as she entered the hall; not that it was difficult to pick Jason out in any room given his towering height and intimidating physical build - an intimidating physical build that did not seem to deter the young heiress in the slightest. Shit. Where was his girlfriend when he needed her?!

     “Richard! Jason! How lovely to see the both of you again!” Clara greeted them cheerfully, stepping forward to place a light kiss on each of their cheeks. She tried to linger in Jason’s arms just a moment longer, but he stepped back as quickly - and obviously - as he could, firmly setting his boundaries. 

     “Nice to see you too, Clara,” Dick replied, always fitting so perfectly into the mould of Bruce Wayne’s perfect oldest son. “Have you tried the appetisers yet? We hired a Michelin star Italian chef to cater the event. He normally doesn’t do engagements outside of his restaurant but, well, who can say no to Bruce Wayne?” 

     Jason’s gut twisted with horror as Dick joined into Clara’s polite laughter. God, he thought he was going to be sick. He’d just never been able to get over the false pleasantries required of him at these events - no matter how nicely they dressed him up and smothered his personality. Clara looked to Jason expectantly, her eyes travelling appreciatively over his shoulders and chest, and Jason felt another wave of nausea pressing against his throat. 

     “I … It’s …” Dick glanced around the room as Jason fumbled his way through a response, searching desperately for some way to get his brother out of his current predicament. And thankfully, it was at that exact moment that X arrived. Dick gave a mental sigh of relief and quickly waved her over. 

     “X!” X looked up when she heard her name being called, then grinned when she saw Dick waving at her frantically. Her eyes flickered over to Jason and the young lady standing in front from him, her chestnut hair curled neatly and piled atp[ her head in an elaborate hairdo, and she chuckled when she saw the panicked expression scrawled across her best friend’s features - it looked like Clara had already begun her attack. 

     Jason turned to follow Dick’s gaze when he heard him yell for his best friend and his entire body relaxed when he found X’s dark eyes and easy smile already trained on him. He side-stepped Clara, intending on making a beeline straight for his life vest in the middle of this never-ending ocean of suffering, but he stopped short when he saw what she was wearing. 

     Her dress was off-the-shoulder, the burgundy-coloured velvet material delicately skimming the tops of her breasts before closing in around her luscious figure, hugging her beautiful curves so deliciously. A slit in one side of the dress exposed her leg to her mid-thigh, teasing him with a mouth-watering view of her tanned skin every time she took a step towards him. And she’d kept her hair down for the occasion, letting her natural dark brown curls drape elegantly over her delicate shoulders and frame her adorable little smile so perfectly. Jason opened his mouth to try greet her - to tell her how stunning she looked that night, her deep red dress highlighting all the parts of her that excited him every time his gaze landed on them - but he found himself unable to even make a sound. 

     Dick grinned when he saw the way his brother’s mouth kept opening and closing as his eyes roved over his best friend’s figure. Maybe tonight would finally be the night that they admitted their feelings to one another. Neither of them had ever mentioned anything about feeling more than friendship for the other person, but it was so obvious to anyone with eyes that they were deeply in love with one another - never mind that they both looked like they wanted to rip each other’s clothes off right then! Dick nudged Jason’s shoulder, silently encouraging him to speak up, but Jason continued to struggle with his words, so Dick stepped forward to initiate the conversation.

     “Thank god you’re here,” Dick joked, giving X a friendly pat on the back in greeting. “Between you and me, I think Jason was just about to puke all over Clara Yang’s two-thousand dollar pair of shoes!” 

     “Come now, Richard, you know how gauche it is to speak of money so blatantly,” X replied, matching his quiet tone so Clara wouldn’t hear. 

     Dick shook his head, the wide smile still stretched across his face, and took a step back from her. “I noticed that you and Jason are matching. Whose idea was that?” 

     “Obviously it was Jason’s,” X teased, sliding her hands nonchalantly up his chest. Jason sucked in a breath at the feeling, his body rapidly heating up at the way she touched him so intimately, right there in front of everyone, but X continued to focus her attention on Dick. “Didn’t you know about his secret love for fashion?” 

     “Well, if it’s a secret, then how am I supposed to know?” Dick countered quickly. X grinned at his words and finally lifted her gaze to Jason’s. He swallowed hard when he saw the way her eyes darkened when they landed on his and his hands instinctively came around her waist, holding her loosely against him.

     “X …” he began softly, his fingers cautiously inching their way along her waist. “You … You look …” She giggled softly and Jason swore his heart melted into a puddle at the sound. 

     “Thanks, Jay,” X whispered back, her voice just as gentle as his as she adjusted his bowtie and waistcoat. “You look really good too.” 

     A naughty smile took over her face as she slid her gaze over to Dick. Then she raised her voice so he’d be able to hear her next words. “Maybe even more handsome than Dick!” 

     “X!” Dick scoffed, clutching his chest in mock agony. “How could you say such a thing?!” X laughed, keeping her fingers curled around the lapels of Jason’s jacket so he could admire the slender length of her neck as her head fell back. Damn, she was beautiful. 

     “I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” X corrected quickly, trying to assuage his concerns. But she leaned closer to Jason’s chest, hiding her face behind his jacket so Dick almost missed the way her expression turned even more mischievous. “He’s definitely more handsome than you tonight, Dick.” 

     Dick let out another offended snort, but Jason barely heard it over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest at the proximity of X to him. How could she cling on to him so casually when they were in public? When anyone might glance over and see them holding each other like … like a couple? He dug his fingers into her sides as his body heated up with excitement at the thought: there was just something so satisfying about their relationship being so right that everyone else could see it even before they officially announced it out loud. And suddenly, he decided that he didn’t want to hide it anymore - he’d talk to X once they found some time to be alone and if she agreed, they’d tell his family about their relationship tonight. 

     X rubbed Jason’s chest gently as she turned to Clara, completely secure in the knowledge that he eyes for her and only her - even if she wasn’t some filthy rich, well-travelled, upper-class heiress who would never have to work for anything in her life. “Don’t you agree, Clara?” 

     Clara’s jaw tightened as her eyes followed the intimate movements of X’s fingers across Jason’s body. But she forced her lips into a tight smile, just like she’d probably been trained to do her entire life. “Why just tonight? I think Jason is always the most handsome man in the room.” 

     X almost choked on her saliva at Clara’s sugary-sweet tone. But that wasn’t even the worst reaction she could have had because poor Jason actually shuffled around in position, angling her towards Clara like she was some sort of shield that could protect him from her adamant flirtations! X swallowed down her laughter, trying to dredge up some sympathy for her boyfriend, but it was just too funny to think of the six-foot-two, built-like-a-brick-wall, not-afraid-to-kill-anyone-who-tried-to-hurt-a-child Red Hood cowering before the tiny, spoiled socialite.

     “I’m hungry,” Jason mumbled, tugging X in the direction of the buffet table on the opposite end of the room. “Let’s get some food, X.” 

     “Of course, Jay!” X agreed, flashing Clara a bright smile before running her fingers possessively through Jason’s hair. Clara clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes at her, but somehow still managed to keep that frightening smile plastered across her face. Maybe they should try recruiting her into being a vigilante too. 

     “You look beautiful, princess,” Jason finally worked up the nerve to tell her once they were alone. X smiled and rubbed his arm where she’d curled herself around him. 

     “Thanks, baby,” X replied, glowing so adorably at his praise. She really was so beautiful, so cute and pretty and all his to admire and adore. “I would kiss you, but …” She glanced around at the roomful of gossip-mongers surrounding them, then flashed him a guilty smile. Jason's stomach twisted with nerves as he remembered his decision to tell his family that night and he cleared his throat when they reached the buffet table. 

     “About that,” Jason began, his expression serious as he turned to X. She raised an eyebrow in question and Jason puffed out his chest as he straightened, trying to build up his confidence. “I was thinking-”

     “Jason Todd!” A vaguely familiar voice called from behind him. Jason turned around and for once, he grinned at who he found. 

     “Mrs Vasquez?!” he exclaimed, releasing his girlfriend for a brief moment to give the elderly woman a hug. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

     X’s chest warmed at the sight of the sweet smile on her boyfriend’s face - and the reciprocating grin the kind-looking old woman wore as she returned his hug. 

     “Indeed!” Mrs Vasquez agreed. “I thought you would have visited at least once after returning from your big fancy trip in Europe!” That was the lie Bruce had had his PR team spread through the public when Jason had returned from his grave. They’d kept his death under wraps when it had happened, knowing they wouldn’t be able to explain away the sudden death of a healthy fifteen-year-old boy under the care of the lonely billionaire Bruce Wayne, so no one had batted an eye when Jason had ‘returned from studying abroad in Europe’ after a few years. 

     “But I do hope you enjoyed yourself, at least,” Mrs Vasquez finished, waving away any excuses before Jason could come up with them. Jason flashed her a grateful smile and slid his arm back around X when he straightened.

     “It was … an experience,” he admitted ambiguously, exchanging a knowing look with X. “But I’m just glad to be home.” He squeezed his girlfriend into his side and breathed in the sweet and fruity scent of her shampoo as he rested his cheek on her head. Mrs Vasquez’s gaze flickered between them knowingly and she fixed Jason with an expectant look as she waited for an explanation. 

     “Oh! Uh, X, this is Mrs Vasquez,” Jason introduced her. “She used to slip me a packet of sweets every time Bruce dragged me to one of these things.” Mrs Vasquez grabbed Jason’s forearm to steady herself as she laughed at the memory. 

     “Oh! Poor Brucie was always so confused when you left the event even more energetic than when you entered!” she recalled, giving Jason a fond pat on the arm. Then she turned to X and held out a hand in greeting. “Lovely to meet you, dear.” 

     “It’s wonderful to meet you too, Mrs Vasquez,” X agreed. “I’ve never seen Jason smile at one of these things! Maybe I should keep a pack of sweets handy every time we go to one.” She turned to Jason with a naughty glint in her eye and his features relaxed even further when he met her gaze. 

     “Hmm, maybe next time you could bring a bit of home to Europe, Jason?” Mrs Vasquez suggested, a knowing look on her face as she glanced between Jason and X. “On a honeymoon, perhaps? I'm sure your beautiful girlfriend would love for you to bring her on a tour of Europe, isn't that right, dear?”

     Jason's heart stopped at the word ‘honeymoon’. He'd just never thought that far ahead - it was a little hard to make plans for the future when you felt like you had Death chasing at your heels every day. He glanced over at X, terrified to see her reaction … but her features were lit up with a rosy glow, her lips stretched into a happy smile.

     “That would be lovely, Jason,” X agreed, tilting her head back to smile up at him. Then she leaned forward to exchange a conspiratorial look with Mrs Vasquez. “Though I'm not sure we'd be doing much sightseeing if we were to go there on our honeymoon.”

     The old woman burst into laughter and gave X a chiding tap on the arm. Then she turned to wag her finger at Jason. “I like her. I'll be waiting for my wedding invitation soon!” 

     Jason smiled dazedly, barely hearing anything after X's words. He didn't know whether his heart was pounding in his chest with nerves … or fluttering happily with excitement. Had she thought about marriage? Did she want them to be married someday? Living in their own little house with their own little kids … Jason gulped, then startled when he felt his girlfriend's fingers on his cheek, tugging his face towards hers. 

     “Jay?” she asked softly, letting her hand fall back to his chest. “Do you want to go somewhere private?” 

     Jason swallowed hard at the naughty look on her face - at the feeling of her fingers tickling him teasingly through his shirt - and nodded. X didn't hesitate before turning around and pulling him through the crowd, weaving in and out of disinterested guests as she led him away from the hall. Finally, she reached the door to Bruce's in-home gym and pushed Jason inside before closing it behind her. 

     “X!” Jason exclaimed, stumbling along behind her as she dragged him to a corner of the room. “What are you- Oof!” He let out a soft grunt as she pulled him against her, trapping herself between him and the wall. X slid her gaze over to the door, a devious smile on her lips, then she stretched onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

     “Who's gonna visit the gym during a gala?” she pointed out, sliding her fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. Her nails tickled his scalp gently and Jason found himself suddenly incapable of forming any rational thoughts. 

     She smirked when she saw his eyelids flutter shut as she ran her fingers through his hair. Then she let her gaze travel down his neck to his broad shoulders, his muscles accentuated so nicely by his form-fitting suit. The Wayne's would always invite her to any gala they went to - not least because her presence kept Jason calm and relaxed - and though she knew Jason hated events like this, she loved getting to dress up in all the beautiful outfits Bruce would get for her on Jason's behalf. She didn't come from a rich family and Jason wasn't one to flaunt the money Bruce would deposit in his bank account every month, so Bruce would always just tell her to send him the bill for whatever she'd rent for one of the fancy events they'd invite her to. He'd told her she could just buy the outfits, but she really had nothing else to wear them to besides the charity galas the rich and wealthy liked to throw. X let her fingers drift down to the lapels of Jason's jacket, the black lining contrasting so perfectly with the deep-red fabric that was ironically reminiscent of his Red Hood costume. And besides, why would she ever pass up on the opportunity to see her boyfriend - her best friend and the love of her life - so handsomely dressed up in his gorgeous suits?! 

     Jason swallowed hard at the way his girlfriend's eyes darkened as they travelled over his body. He'd never known how naughty she could be until they started dating - sneaking into his warehouse in her tight little vigilante costume to tease him with her curves, pulling him into an inconspicuous alcove to have a quick makeout session with him when they were supposed to be on patrol, and, shit, that call the other night? God, he was going to lose his mind if they had to keep sneaking around like this for any longer. 

     “X,” Jason murmured, his breath grazing her lips as he bent over her. His girlfriend shivered in his arms at the gravelly sound of his voice and Jason sucked in a breath as his core tightened with excitement. 

     God, she loved how soft and gentle he always was with her, his low voice, his tender touch, that boyish smile that would always take over his rugged features when they played with each other in bed. Shit, she loved him. She stretched up and closed the distance between them, letting out a soft moan when their lips touched. Jason smiled against her lips and X clung onto his neck again as her knees went weak at the feeling. 

     He wrapped one arm all the way around her, keeping her upright against him as he leaned his other hand on the wall. Shit, her dress was soft. He was going to take his time peeling it off her later, carefully exposing each inch of her smooth skin to him inch by precious inch. Jason lowered his mouth to her neck and let his hand fall down to the slit of her dress as he began pressing lingering kisses to her skin. His girlfriend let out a choked gasp as he dug his fingers into the bare skin of her thigh, and Jason felt his stomach flip at the sound. He'd always known that she loved him - she took such good care of him, after all, consistently planning her days to incorporate him into her daily schedule - but shit, he'd never known how much his best friend could have wanted him as well. Wanted his baggage, the trauma that had ingrained itself into his personality, the scars, the pain, the anger, all of it - she didn't just love all of him; she wanted it all as well. 

     She hooked her leg around his waist and pulled him closer to her, losing herself in the dizzying feeling of him all around her. Jason slid his hand higher up her thigh, his fingers sneaking beneath the hem of her dress, and X held her breath as he neared her centre. 

     “Jay!” she gasped when his thumb snuck beneath the waistband of her underwear, kneading her pelvic joint so she began dripping with anticipation. Her boyfriend chuckled into the crook of her neck, knowing exactly what he was doing to her, and another shiver danced its way down X's spine. 

     “You're so naughty, princess,” he murmured against her skin, his lips travelling slowly across the bare expanse of her shoulder, “dragging me in here so no one can see.” 

     X  felt herself melt in his arms as her boyfriend licked his way back up her neck, his teeth gently grazing her skin before clamping down on her earlobe. “Or did you want someone to catch us? My naughty little nightingale?”

     A helpless whimper fell from her mouth as he curled his fingers around her ass and Jason let out a muttered curse as her hips bucked forward, desperately seeking her boyfriend's warm centre. 

     “J-Jay …” X whined, her eyes so round and beautiful as she gazed up at him pleadingly. Jason swallowed hard at the adoring look on her face and her lips immediately flicked up into a smirk. 

     “Maybe …” X began thoughtfully, running her hands down his chest and straightening to press her lips to the base of his throat. Jason held his breath as his entire body tightened in anticipation, the adrenaline and testosterone flooding his veins at the feeling of his girlfriend's fingers inching dangerously closer to the part of his body that wanted her the most. “Maybe I just wanted to help my boyfriend relax a little?”

     And now it was his turn to shiver at the way her warm breath grazed his neck as her lips moved against his skin teasingly. X snickered softly against his throat, then tilted her head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the same spot. Jason closed his eyes, relaxing into the feeling of her gentle touches … but suddenly, his belt was unbuckled and his zip was undone and his girlfriend’s hand was in his pants, palming his length teasingly. “X …”

     She giggled softly at the undercurrent of warning in his voice and Jason cursed again before shifting them around slightly, shielding her from the view of anyone who decided to walk through the door at such an inopportune moment. X snickered at the way he didn’t stop her - at the way he just let her continue to arouse him right where anyone could find them! - and curled her fingers around his shaft to start tugging on him gently. “I know how stressed you get at these things, baby. Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 

     Jason let out a low groan in response, doubling over so his soft hair was grazing her forehead, and X grinned before cupping his cheek in her free hand to angle his mouth towards hers. Shit, he was a good kisser! He hadn’t been at first, a little eager and over excited to stick his tongue in her mouth and lick up the taste of her. But with a little patience - and a lot of practise 😉 - he’d become so good at it that just the feeling of his tongue running across her lips was enough to make her weak in the knees! X sighed softly as Jason kneaded her tongue with his, both his hands wandering across her body, leisurely making their way back down to her ass … 

     “Holy f*cking God!” X snatched her hand out of Jason’s pants when she heard Tim’s horrified voice echo through the room. “What the f*ck are the two of you doing?!” 

     Jason took a step back from his best friend and quickly tucked himself back into his underwear before zipping his pants back up. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he twisted his head back to catch a glimpse of Tim and Cass standing at the other end of the room, equal expressions of shock on their faces. “What … What the hell are you doing here?!” 

     X ignored the panicked thudding of her heart as she straightened her dress and plastered an innocent smile onto her face. She avoided Jason’s gaze as she stepped out from behind him, keeping her eyes trained on Tim and Cass instead. “We were just taking a break from the rest of the party. What are you guys doing here?” 

     Tim stared at the two of them in silence, his jaw hanging open with shock as his brain worked overtime to process what he’d just caught them in the middle of. He’d have to wash his eyes with bleach or something later tonight. And probably his brain too. And his ears, so he wouldn’t forever be haunted by the sound of X’s playful giggles and Jason’s low and teasing voice and ugh, he was going to be sick! 

     “Dick sent us to come find you,” Cass explained, confused by the scene in front of her. “He said he thought he’d seen the two of you come this way a while back ... X, why is Jason wearing the same lipstick as you?” She tilted her in question, still not catching on to what they’d been doing, and her eyes fell to the red lip-shaped stain at the base of Jason’s throat. 

     “And he got some on his neck … Oh!” She gasped, suddenly realising how all the lipstick marks had gotten on Jason’s body, and lowered her head as a blush crept up her cheeks. 

     “Guys? What’s-?” Dick stopped short as he entered the gym, utterly bewildered by the sight before him: Tim on his knees on the ground, a traumatised look on his face, and Cass shifting awkwardly in position as she looked everywhere but at Jason and X. “Uh, what’s going on?” 

     X and Jason exchanged embarrassed looks as they tried to figure out how to respond, but before either of them could say anything, Tim replied for them. “They were f*cking having sex in the gym! Oh God. Did you guys touch anything?! Oh God, are there bodily fluids everywhere?! F*ck! I’m gonna … I can’t step foot in here ever again!” 

     He pushed himself to his feet and wobbled to the door, genuinely looking like he was about to throw up any second. Dick raised an eyebrow in concern as he moved to let him pass, then he folded his arms across his chest and turned to Jason and X for an explanation. 

     “I … We … Um, that’s …” The two of them stuttered, stumbling over their words as they tried to come up with an answer. 

     “Are you guys together?” Dick suggested, trying to stop his lips from curling at the ends with joy. Jason and X clasped their hands behind their backs, both of them wearing equally guilty expressions as they avoided Dick’s gaze. 

     “Um, uh, yes, actually …” Jason confirmed, causing a rush of victory to shoot through Dick’s chest. 

     “Um, for, um, about two months? Maybe?” X elaborated, making the whole situation even better! How the hell had they managed to sneak around for two months without anyone else finding out! This was so, so good! 

     “Two months?!” Tim exclaimed, still hovering in the doorway. “Oh, shit. Please don’t tell me … You haven’t had sex anywhere else, have you?” 

     X squeezed her legs together as her body grew excited at the mention of everyone knowing how intimate she’d been with her best friend and she kept her gaze fixed on the ground so they wouldn’t see the furious blush filling up her cheeks.

     Jason stared at a corner of the ceiling and clenched his fists as he tried desperately to stop himself from snorting at the question: obviously, they’d had sex before - multiple times, in fact, both at her place and his. Thankfully though, his older brother intervened on Jason’s behalf before something completely inappropriate for the situation could slip out of his mouth. 

     “I seriously doubt this would be their first time, Tim,” Dick pointed out, his features curled into a knowing smirk. Tim gagged at the realisation that he was right, then he spun on his heel and raced out of the room, unable to take it any longer. Cass followed suit not longer after, flashing X a sheepish smile before she returned to the gala as well. Dick returned his attention to Jason and X, the three of them were left alone in the room now, and fixed them both with a smug grin. “Look, as happy as I am for the two of you, let’s try to keep it PG when there are other people around, okay?” 

     Jason rolled his eyes at his brother’s condescending tone, but didn’t look up, honestly a little embarrassed to have been caught with his girlfriend’s fingers curled so deliciously around his cock - but at least they wouldn’t have to keep their relationship a secret any longer. He turned to his girlfriend as she curled her body around his arm, her expression shy as she nodded in agreement to Dick’s suggestion, and Jason felt his stomach flip at the way she bit her lip nervously. Dick gestured to the door, not trusting the two of them to be left alone, and Jason escorted his girlfriend back into the gala. 

     “So,” X began softly, clearing his throat before sneaking a glance up at Jason. “Does this mean I can kiss you in front of Clara now?” 

     A snicker fell from Jason’s lips before he could catch it and X’s expression turned mischievous. Jason glanced around, trying to catch sight of her and quickly spotted her chatting Bruce’s ear off by a corner of the room. “I think her head might explode if you did that.” 

     X tugged on his arm, stopping him in his tracks, then cupped his cheek in her hand, turning him to face her. “All the more reason to do it!” 

     Jason slid his gaze over to the side, waiting until Clara had turned to them, her eyes alight with devilish glee, then he turned back to his girlfriend and touched his lips softly to hers. 

     “See?” X told him when a loud gasp sounded from across the room. “I told you these things weren’t so bad.” 

     Jason chuckled softly and pulled her into his chest for a hug, bending over again to press his lips to the top of her head. 

     “Only because you’re here,” he argued, too delighted to be wrapped up in his girlfriend’s arms in public to bother about who was watching them. X laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. 

     “I’ll always be here for you, Jay,” she reassured him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head before pulling back. “I love you, darling.” 

     “I love you too, sweetheart.”

[paigesbasketball]

Teasing Fate PT.2

This is part two to: A night to remember shadow x reader Warnings: just a kiss

The days following that party had left you with more questions than answers. Shadow's brooding silence, the way he looked at you with those piercing crimson eyes—it was enough to send your heart racing every time you crossed paths. You'd teased him, kissed his cheek, and yet he hadn’t exactly shown his cards. In fact, the more you tried to figure him out, the more you realized how much of a mystery he truly was. But that only made you more curious. The aloofness, the cool indifference—it was part of his charm, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t stop thinking about Shadow—his quiet strength, his intimidating yet strangely alluring presence. You weren’t used to being this intrigued by anyone, let alone someone who barely spoke. But there was something about the way he’d looked at you, the way he’d teased you, that had left an undeniable mark on you.

It wasn’t long before you saw him again. It was an afternoon at the gym, the usual quiet hum of equipment being used and the occasional sound of conversation filling the air. You’d just finished a light workout and were taking a break when you spotted him. Shadow was standing near the weights, his arms crossed as usual, eyes focused intently on the floor as though deep in thought. His posture was still as imposing as ever, but there was something about him that day that seemed... different.

You couldn’t help it. You walked over to him, stepping around a few other gym-goers as you approached. He noticed you almost immediately, his head lifting just enough to acknowledge your presence. His expression didn’t change, but you could see the faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

“Shadow,” you said, breaking the silence between you two. “Still pretending you don’t care about anyone?”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing up at you. “I never said I didn’t care. I just don’t waste time on things that don’t matter,” he replied smoothly, his deep voice carrying the usual undertone of confidence.

You smirked, folding your arms. “Uh-huh, sure. So, I guess I don’t matter?”

His crimson eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, his arms still crossed in that signature stance. “Don’t make assumptions,” he said, his voice a little colder. “You’re the one who doesn’t seem to take me seriously.”

You leaned in slightly, an amused smile on your face. “Oh, I take you seriously, Shadow. Just not in the way you probably think.”

The tension between you two was thick, charged with something neither of you wanted to admit. Shadow tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “You’ve been saying a lot of things lately,” he said, his gaze flickering over you as if he was analyzing you, looking for any sign of weakness. “And you’re not as composed as you pretend.”

You straightened up, determined to keep up your usual confidence. “I’m perfectly composed, thank you very much. It’s you who seems a little on edge,” you teased, your voice light but with a hint of challenge.

Shadow chuckled lowly, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “On edge, huh? Funny, you don’t seem all that composed now,” he said, his gaze darkening slightly as he stepped closer to you.

For a brief moment, your breath caught in your throat. His proximity, his intensity—it was unlike anything you’d felt before. But you weren’t about to show any signs of weakness, not now, not when you knew you had the upper hand. Or so you thought.

Without warning, Shadow reached out and gently cupped your chin, lifting it so your eyes met his. The suddenness of his touch caught you off guard, and for a split second, you were completely frozen. He leaned in just a bit closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re flustered,” he said, his voice now soft but with an edge of teasing that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your cheeks flushed with heat, and you took a quick breath, trying to compose yourself. “I’m not flustered,” you quickly muttered, even though your heart was racing.

Shadow’s smirk deepened. “Really? ‘Cause it sure looks like you are.”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, but your body felt like it was betraying you. “I—” You cleared your throat. “I don’t get flustered.”

Shadow chuckled again, his hand still holding your chin lightly. “You’re doing a terrible job at hiding it.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in closer, tilting his head as though he was about to say something. And then, in a move that completely caught you off guard, he kissed your cheek.

It was brief, just a soft brush of his lips against your skin, but it sent a rush of heat through your body. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, everything went still. You weren’t sure whether you were shocked, embarrassed, or excited, but whatever it was, it had you reeling.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours with that same knowing, mischievous glint. “Now you’re the one who’s flustered,” he teased, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

You quickly looked away, your heart thumping in your chest. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, trying to regain your composure.

Shadow’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying the reaction he had pulled from you. “I thought you liked a challenge,” he said smoothly, stepping back and giving you some space.

“You—” you started, your voice a little shaky as you struggled to hold onto your confidence. “I wasn’t ready for that.”

“I didn’t think you’d be so easy to rattle,” Shadow said, his voice full of amusement, his eyes gleaming with something that bordered on admiration. “Maybe I misjudged you.”

For a brief moment, the teasing stopped, and something else passed between you two—something genuine, something you weren’t sure you were ready for. But before you could say anything else, Shadow’s expression shifted back to his usual cool, collected demeanor.

“Anyway,” he began, his voice steady as ever, “if you want to keep pretending like I’m not getting to you, that’s fine. But just know this—this isn’t over.”

………

“So…” you said, breaking the silence, trying to fill the space between you. “What’s your idea of a perfect night?”

Shadow glanced up from his plate, his eyes narrowing slightly as he thought. “A perfect night?” he repeated, his voice low and thoughtful. “I’d say something quiet, something simple. No distractions. Just me and… someone I can trust.”

You felt a small smile tug at your lips. “You’ve got trust issues, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning back slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I’m learning to get past that.”

That made your heart skip a beat. There was something in the way he said that, like he was opening up to you in his own quiet, reserved way. You decided to press further.

“So… is that someone sitting right across from you?” you teased lightly, trying to keep things playful.

Shadow’s gaze flickered to yours, and for a moment, you could have sworn he was studying you. “Maybe,” he said, his voice still steady, but now there was something more—something softer in his eyes. “But I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear the rest.”

You tilted your head slightly, a mixture of curiosity and amusement on your face. “What, is this some sort of secret?”

Shadow chuckled, a low, almost growling sound that made your stomach flutter. “You could say that. But only because I’m trying to figure out if you’re serious about this.”

Your heart skipped again, and your mind raced. “Serious about what?”

“The teasing, the games,” he said, his eyes darkening slightly with intensity. “Are you just here to play, or is there more to it?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words. This wasn’t just a casual dinner. It was a moment of reckoning, a moment where everything between you two could change. You were silent for a moment, the air thick with tension as you thought about how to respond.

“Well, if you’re asking if I want more than just games, then yeah. I’m serious about this,” you said, your voice quieter than before. “I want to know where this could go.”

Shadow’s eyes softened, and for the first time, he didn’t look so distant. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just a bit. “Good. Because I don’t want to play games anymore, either.”

There it was. The truth was finally out in the open, and the tension between you two shifted, becoming something else—something more honest, more raw. You looked at him, your heart racing, and before you could say anything else, the waiter returned to clear your plates.

Once everything was cleared, Shadow leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on you, but there was something different in his gaze now—something more vulnerable. The silence between you wasn’t awkward this time, though. It felt comfortable, almost like a quiet understanding had settled between you.

Then, without missing a beat, Shadow looked you square in the eyes and asked, his voice steady but with a rare sincerity: “Would you go on a proper date with me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it was in a good way. You smiled softly, feeling a mix of excitement and relief flood through you. “Yeah,” you said, your voice calm but filled with certainty. “I’d like that.”

Shadow’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles, a smile that reached his eyes for the first time in a long while. “Good. I’m not the best at this whole dating thing,” he admitted, “but I’ll do my best to make sure you enjoy it.”

You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you relaxed in your seat. Shadow, the brooding hedgehog you had spent so much time trying to figure out, had finally made his move—and it was everything you had hoped for.

As the meal wound down and the night continued, Shadow’s gaze never strayed far from you. The connection between you two was undeniable, the teasing and games that once defined your interactions now giving way to something deeper.

And then, as you were walking outside, under the soft glow of the streetlights, Shadow stopped. He turned to face you, his expression more serious now.

“I know this might be sudden,” he began, his voice almost hesitant for the first time. “But I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I’m not great with words, but I know what I want. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This was it—the moment you had been waiting for, the moment everything between you two clicked.

“Yes,” you said, your voice clear and filled with warmth. “I want to be your girlfriend.”

Shadow’s face softened, and for a moment, you could see a side of him that was rarely ever shown—vulnerable, open, and completely sincere. He reached out, pulling you into a hug, and you melted into it, your heart swelling with joy.

As he pulled away, he looked into your eyes, his usual confident smirk back in place. “I knew you’d say yes.”

And just like that, the teasing stopped, and something real began. Shadow the Hedgehog had finally opened up to you, and now, everything felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

As the night grew quieter, the soft hum of distant city sounds filled the air around you. Shadow stood before you, his crimson eyes never leaving yours. The moment felt like it had stretched into eternity, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel like everything had fallen into place at once.

“I knew you’d say yes,” he said with that signature smirk, but there was no hiding the warmth in his eyes now. It wasn’t the teasing, distant Shadow you had once known; it was someone new—someone real, someone you were beginning to understand.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, feeling the rush of emotions that had been building up over time. “Yeah, well,” you teased softly, “you were right.”

The smile that tugged at Shadow’s lips was softer now, but it was no less intense. There was a tenderness in his gaze that you’d never seen before. As he stepped a little closer, you could feel the air between you both shift, the distance narrowing in a way that made your heart race all over again. His hand reached for yours, his fingers brushing against yours lightly, almost as if testing the waters.

He looked down at your hand for a moment before meeting your eyes again. The teasing was gone, replaced by something deeper, something genuine. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he said quietly, the words somehow more intimate now, as if this was the first time he was truly letting down his guard with you.

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, Shadow moved closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was soft, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. His gaze dropped to your lips, his face inches from yours, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

Without a word, Shadow leaned in, closing the space between you two. His lips met yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and full of unspoken feelings. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was the culmination of everything that had been building between you two—the teasing, the shy moments, the laughter, and now, finally, the connection.

When you pulled away, your heart was racing, your breath coming a little more quickly. Shadow looked at you with an intensity that left you breathless. His smirk was back, but there was a softness to it now, a quiet pride that you could see in his eyes.

“You look even better than I imagined,” he murmured with a teasing tone, but the sincerity was there, too.

You smiled, a little breathless from the kiss, and felt the warmth of his presence settle over you like a promise. “Guess I’ll have to keep surprising you, then.”

And as the night stretched on, it was clear that this was only the beginning of something real. Something that no amount of teasing could ever take away.

[watarfallar]

Merry Christmas eve! I bring presents

Grian: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project? Scar: Do it or you're straight. Grian: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

Grian: Damn, the power went out. Scar: Don’t worry, I got this. Scar: shakes rapidly and starts to light up Grian: What-? Scar: I swallowed a glow stick! Grian, on the verge of tears: WHY WOULD YOU-

Scar: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine! Grian: How can you still say that? Scar: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

Grian: When was the last time you cried? Scar: Uh 15 minutes ago, why?? Grian: really? That recent? Scar: Yeah voice crack is that a issue? starts crying again

Grian: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness— Scar: Hi. Grian: melts down in a flustered heap of softness

Grian: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Scar! Scar: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

Scar: I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Grian: Damn, that sounds like a marriage proposal. Scar, getting down on one knee: That's 'cause it is.

Grian: Is five a lot of followers? Scar: Depends on the context. Scar: On Instagram? No, not a lot of followers. Scar: In a dark alley? Yes, a lot of followers.

Scar, confused and exasperated: Grian, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan? Grian: Politely.

Scar: That's it, I'm cutting off the internet! Grian: No, please don't! I have a family to feed! Scar: Scar: What? Grian: I need to feed my Neopets!

Scar: Do you want to know your gay name? Grian: My… my gay name? Scar: Yeah, it's your first name- Grian: Haha. Very funny Scar- Scar: gets down on one knee And my last name. Grian: Oh- oh my god.

Grian: Hey guys, I’m making french toast sticks in the oven. I’m gonna take a quick nap, so wake me up in 5 minutes to flip them over. 5 minutes later Scar: Grian it’s been 5 minutes, time to flip your sticks. Grian: snnnzzzz… Scar: GRIAN YOUR STICKS!

Grian: Look, Scar, if you can fit your head down the gun’s barrel, you can assume it doesn’t have a non-lethal setting.

Scar, cowering in fear: What do you want from me?! Grian, standing in front of Scar: bites into the whole KitKat bar like a heathen Scar, crying: Please…stop…

Grian, at Scar: Of course you have blood all over you, and pronouns.

Scar: A banker? Me? Grian: Yes, Scar. Scar: But I don’t know anything about running a bank! Grian: Good. No preconceived ideas. Scar: I’ve robbed banks! Grian: Capital! Just reverse your thinking. The money should be on the inside.

Grian: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! Scar: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus. Grian: Stop.

Cop: What are your names? Grian: Don't tell them, Scar. Cop, writing: Scar… Grian: Crap. Scar: Nice going, Grian. Cop: Scar: Uh oh.

Grian: Give me everything you’ve got! Scar: All your friends secretly hate you. Grian: Wait, what? Scar: I’ve got anxiety.

Scar: The saying “it is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission” no longer applies to Grian.

Scar: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE! Scar: GRIAN IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW! Scar: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

Scar is cleaning the house and they find an empty bottle of orange juice Scar: Clear orange juice? Scar: Oh, it's empty. Grian, who has been watching the entire time: I live with an idiot. I live with an idiot. I live with an idiot.

Grian: So we're gathered here today for a very special reason and I think you'll all agree with me here. Grian: And if you don't well then fuck you. Grian: I'm looking at you, Scar, you jealous mop.

Scar: Hey, wanna hear a funny joke? Grian: I only like dark humor. Scar, turning the lights off: What do you call a fake noodle? Grian: Scar: An IMPASTA!

Scar: Do you know the best way to respond to disagreement? Grian: With tears? Scar: No. Grian: tears up

[wastemee]

i think that i would die

jimmy grant (?) + fem reader

content warning . noncon/dubcon , toxic relationship , painal , barely legal reader

note: very unedited!!!! I’m lazy this is bad

When your eighteenth birthday has finally come , you had never been happier. You’re an adult (in the eyes of the law , at least)! Late night clubbing and cigarettes , here you come. Although you don’t have much friends , at least you have your trusty ID on you and your car (which is really your parents). College is definitely an option , your parents would provide you the money if you asked. But for now , you’re just working at some job that’s mundane and boring. The only reason you go is because your parents have connections , got you a job so you can buy all the stuff you could ever want. Given it’s in your paycheck budget.

Nothing or anybody interesting happened to catch your eye during your shift , until a few months ago. Your now boyfriend , Jimmy. He’s tall , handsome , and although he’s a bit dark , he’s yours. If your wish was to get an extremely morally gray boyfriend who definitely has personal issues , you won the lottery.

Your family doesn’t approve , but who would? He has very.. “controversial” opinions and strange comments on modern things that he claimed , “I didn’t have in my day”. His thoughts on feminism are bleh. Whenever you ask for him to elaborate , his response is always something like , “This word has gone to shit” or “Women think they have so much power”. He has very traditional beliefs about women , he still thinks that the only place women are needed is the kitchen and on their male partners dick. And honestly thinks you’re an idiot for still dating him.

Dating is a funny word to him. He wouldn’t consider your relationship ‘dating’ , he just likes you because you’re young , conventionally attractive , and a little bit naive. If he told you the roof said gullible on it , you’d look up because you trust him that much. Fresh meat. That’s what you are. You’re barely legal , what more is there to like?

He has you tag along with him to get togethers with his former coworkers , people he was working with in space! Amazing. He went from working in space to fucking and dumping girls from eighteen to twenty. When he first told you about his former job , you couldn’t believe him. He’s a sleaze , a sleazy astronaut.

Curly , his best friend , is chatting it up with him in his dirty apartment. Stubble frames his nice skin , lips curled up into a grin. He’s cute. But in a dog kind of way , not like a grown man. He has nice , blonde hair and his eyes are full of promise and kindness , unlike his best friend. Anya’s a young lady with sad looking eyes and a shaggy haircut , who for some reason , seems a bit uncomfortable with Jimmy. She doesn’t say much , Jimmy told you that. He also said she was extremely incompetent and utterly incapable of doing anything on the ship , but he says that about a lot of people. Then there’s Daisuke , who is just a ball of joy. Jimmy seems irritated by his painfully optimistic behavior whenever he interjects in conversation or talks.

Any idiot knows that if someone talks to you about another , then obviously they’ll talk about you as well. Unfortunately , you don’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for all the things you found out Jimmy says about you when snooping through his phone , and his little friend doesn’t even say anything. Usually if someone were to call their girlfriend an idiot , or ‘meat’ , the average person would feel disturbed. But Curly shrugs it off with no reprimands for your boyfriend’s icky comments.

And of course , when Jimmy found out about your sneaky little habit , he was pissed for sure. A quick slap to your face , or shoving his dick down your throat when you definitely don’t want it , obviously does nothing for your behavior. Instead of forcing your head down on him , maybe fucking you so hard you feel like your guts will fall out could fix your behavioral issues.

He’s really pushing the limits of his flimsy bed frame with the way he thrusts into your ass , one hand on the headboard and the other gripping your already bruised hips. Pained moans slip out of your throat and into his hot room’s space , stubby nails scratching against the cheap wood. “Jim— Jimmy—“ you barely manage to gasp , tears pricking at your eyes and your stomach churning from both the pain and the unfamiliar feeling of him tearing into your body. He ignores your pleas , only pressing your face into the headboard harshly.

He groans under his breath , gritting his teeth and burying himself into you , chest pressed against your back like he’s trying to merge your sweaty bodies together. All he can think about is the way you clench around him and squirm like a wounded animal , and it’s the only thing keeping him going. The thought of molding you into what he wants and dumping you on the side of the street back at your house after he loses all interest in you makes his head spin and his dick hard.

“Please,” you whimper , pained tears rolling down your face and soaking into his dirty sheets. Your teary eyes squeeze shut , because if you look at him , you might just hurl all over yourself *and* the pillows. His hand moves from your hip and to your warm face , nails digging into your puffy cheeks and forcing your face to his. He doesn’t even need you to open your eyes and see his face when he’s fucking you like an animal , rough and hard.

“It’ll be over,” Jimmy mutters , hot breath making contact with your face and making your nose scrunch up instinctively. Cigarettes and booze , it sickens you. “ ‘cause you’ll shut up and take it , right? Let me cum in you without a word?” His words are harsh and teasing in a way. Teasing you because he knows you’ll never say no , teasing you because no matter what your friends and family say , you’ll let him do whatever he wishes.

Callously hands drift down to your tight throat , squeezing lightly. Not enough to kill you , but enough to make you feel light headed and sick to your stomach. Your hand overlaps his , urging him to take his rough hand from your windpipe. Listening to you is the last thing he’ll ever do.

All of this banging you against was practically foreplay , and his orgasm is the main event of his rape-y affection. He moans through his gritted teeth , hips meeting yours and spewing his seed into you , not bothering to pull out or check up on you with a simple , “You okay?”.

Just because you’re used to it , doesn’t mean you like. It definitely doesn’t mean that.

Jimmy’s hands slowly fall from your neck , lips pressed against your temple and his lips curled up into a cruel smirk. “Shit,” he murmurs into your ear , knocking against your head with his fist. “Think I’ve emptied you all of you’ve got. Don’t think there’s anything in here”. He chuckles , voice just as condescending as ever. You’re starting to think he’s right. Maybe there isn’t anything in your head , not anymore , you wouldn’t doubt it. From hopeful and optimistic , to drained all in the span of a few weeks.

You’ve made your bed , and now you must lie in it. For however long Jimmy deems fit.

[kathlare]

slim pickins

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Alex collaborate late into the night in a London studio, channeling raw emotions into their songwriting.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: just fluff

June 21st, 2023 - London, United Kingdom

Amelie pulled the oversized hoodie tighter around her as she paced the dimly lit studio in London. It was nearing midnight, the kind of late hour when exhaustion and creativity blurred into a strange, electric haze. Her hair was a messy bun atop her head, her face bare of makeup, and the edges of her nerves frayed just enough to make her feel raw and open.

Alex Wolff sat cross-legged on the couch, his guitar resting casually on his knee as he strummed absentmindedly. His dark curls fell into his face, and he kept pushing them back with the heel of his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. His shirt was wrinkled, and he looked like he hadn't slept properly in days—likely true. They both thrived in this chaos.

—Okay, hear me out,— Alex said, his voice breaking the silence. —What if the line about 'all the douchebags in my phone' comes earlier? Like, hit them with that gut-punch right away.—

Amelie stopped pacing, the notepad in her hands filled with scribbled lines, half-formed ideas, and the occasional angry doodle. She raised an eyebrow at him. —You just want people to know I’ve dated douchebags before the first chorus.—

Alex smirked, leaning back. —I mean, it’s honest, isn’t it?—

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. —Fine, maybe you're right. But it needs to hit harder. Like...— she chewed on the cap of her pen, thinking —...what if it’s more sarcastic? I don’t want to sound bitter; I want to sound like I’m over it, you know?—

Alex raised his eyebrows. —Are you over it, though?—

Amelie glared at him, the kind of glare that could cut glass, but she didn't answer. She just scribbled something else in her notebook and sat on the edge of the piano bench.

—Okay, fine. I’ll stop,— Alex said, holding his hands up in surrender. —But for the record, I think sarcasm is perfect for you. Like a defense mechanism wrapped in glitter.—

—Wow,— Amelie said, deadpan. —Did you get that from a fortune cookie, or are you just naturally this profound?—

—Naturally profound,— Alex shot back, grinning. He started strumming a new chord progression, something upbeat but with an edge.

Amelie listened, nodding along as she hummed the melody under her breath. The lyrics they’d pieced together so far hung in the air, and she could feel the weight of them pressing against her chest.

Slim pickins, if I can’t have the one I love...

Her voice faltered as the line echoed in her head. The one I love. It was a simple phrase, but it felt like a grenade. Because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew exactly who it referred to. And it wasn’t Rodrigo.

Rodrigo had been... perfect. Kind, funny, supportive. He’d been everything she thought she needed after the whirlwind of Lando. But even now, weeks after their breakup, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something had always been missing. That part of her heart was still stuck in Monaco, or wherever the hell Lando Norris was these days.

—Amelie,— Alex said, pulling her back to the present. His voice was softer now, the teasing edge gone. —You okay?—

She blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the keys of the piano, her fingers frozen in place. —Yeah,— she said quickly. Too quickly. —Just tired, I guess.—

Alex didn’t push, but she could tell he didn’t buy it. He never did.

They worked in silence for a while after that, the only sounds the quiet hum of the guitar and the occasional scratch of her pen against paper. But Amelie’s mind kept drifting, her thoughts circling back to Lando like a moth to a flame.

She hated how much he still affected her. Hated that even after all this time, after everything, she couldn’t just let it go.

—Alright,— Alex said suddenly, breaking the silence. —Let’s take a break before you overthink yourself into oblivion.—

Amelie laughed, grateful for the distraction. —What, you don’t think this is my most productive state?—

—Not when you’re staring at the piano like it insulted your family,— Alex said, standing up and stretching. —Come on. Tea? Wine? Something stronger?—

—Tea’s fine,— she said, standing up and following him to the tiny kitchenette in the corner of the studio.

As Alex busied himself with the kettle, Amelie leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. —Do you ever feel like... no matter what you do, you’re just stuck?—

Alex glanced at her, his expression serious now. —You mean creatively? Or...?—

—Everything,— she said, her voice barely above a whisper. —Like you’re trying to move on, but something keeps pulling you back.—

He didn’t answer right away, just poured the hot water into two mugs and handed her one. —I think that’s just part of being human,— he said finally. —But if it’s about a person...—

—It’s not,— she said quickly, too quickly.

Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. —Okay. But for what it’s worth, you deserve someone who doesn’t make you feel stuck. Someone who makes you feel free.—

Amelie swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over her. She sipped her tea, the warmth grounding her, and tried to push the thoughts of Lando to the back of her mind.

They returned to the studio a few minutes later, and the energy shifted. The late hour, the tea, the music—it all blurred together as they poured themselves into the song.

By the time they finished, the first rays of dawn were creeping through the windows. Alex leaned back on the couch, looking at her with a tired but satisfied smile.

—That’s it,— he said. —That’s the one.—

Amelie nodded, her heart full and heavy at the same time. The lyrics felt like a release, a way to say everything she couldn’t put into words.

As she packed up her things, Alex reached out and squeezed her shoulder. —Hey. Whatever’s going on in that messy little head of yours, you’re gonna be okay. You know that, right?—

She smiled, a real one this time. —Yeah,— she said. —I know.—

But as she walked out of the studio and into the cool morning air, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was lying to herself.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part 4 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

Logan isn't sure when or how it happened. It just…did.

He wakes up next to you every morning now. He falls asleep next to you every night. It's become routine, part of his day, as natural as if he's always been doing it.

Somehow, falling asleep next to you turns into cuddling, which then turns into late night conversations until you're both too exhausted to keep talking.

And Logan is…happy. He feels lighter, he's got more energy. Suddenly the world isn't the sullen place he always thought it was.

He convinces himself it's the sex. Convinces himself that's what has him in such a good mood. It couldn't possibly be anything else other than the sex.

It's his favorite part of the day now. He looks forward to lying next to you, to listen to you talk about your day. He just focuses on your words, on the sound of your voice, as he gently caresses your skin.

And he shares with you, too. Little, but he shares. He likes the way you pay attention, the way you actually listen to what he has to say. It makes him feel…seen. And it sounds silly, but that's how he feels. That's one of the many things he likes about you.

You're smart, you're sweet, you're funny. He enjoys talking to you so much, that the idea of going somewhere with you and just talking about anything and everything slowly starts to grow in his mind. It takes shape; he thinks of places, of times, of days. And he decides that an afternoon coffee with you would be the most suitable. Now there's only the matter of asking you.

And despite everything you two have done, this has him nervous.

He's antsy and jumpy as he walks up to you one day, hands balled into fists.

“Hey, bub,” he greets casually.

You turn to face him, eyes bright. And you smile and he's lost.

A little voice in the back of his head is insisting that a girl like you would never want him, that you're way out of his league. But he gathers his courage and pushes himself to ask anyway.

“So, I was wondering,” he says, “if you're busy today? In the afternoon?”

“Today? No, I'm not busy,” you reply. He sighs in relief. “Why?” you add curiously.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to go out with me? Like to go get coffee?”

You blink and his heart drops. She's gonna say no.

Is…is he asking me on a date?

You're pretty sure he did. At least that's what it sounded like. But he said it so casually, maybe he just meant it as friends or something?

“Um. Coffee?” you echo, grimacing internally. You sound like an idiot, but you hope Logan doesn't notice.

“Yeah, coffee. Or an ice cream, or…just, anything, really,” he replies, nodding. “I just meant if you wanted to hang out.”

You nod softly. “Well, yeah, it sounds fun,” you reply, smiling.

Logan offers a half grin in return. “Great. We could go into the city and just see where we feel like going,” he says.

You nod. “Yeah, great. So, it's a date.”

His grin widens into a smile. “It's a date.” He nods.

That afternoon, he takes you on his bike to the mall, enjoying the way you hold onto him for life. When you get to the mall and take the helmet off, he grins. Your hair is all messy and you've never looked more beautiful.

“I've got helmet hair, don't I?” you ask, pouting.

He hums gently. “A little,” he responds as he tenderly combs your hair some.

You grumble a bit. “I was all fixed-up and pretty,” you complain.

“You still look as beautiful as ever,” he tells you, studying your face carefully, just taking you in.

A soft blush coats your cheeks and he smiles, tracing your cheekbone with his knuckles softly.

It's almost odd to see Logan be this calm, caring, affectionate. But you're not complaining at all. If anything, you like it. It makes you feel wanted. He makes you feel wanted and safe.

You two walk into the mall together, talking and laughing, and he lets you pick the place. You end up in a cute café, cozy and quiet, sitting close together in a booth in the far corner.

Logan is more open than usual, still somewhat reserved, but he offers you more insight to his thoughts and feelings. He talks and laughs, and you can sense he’s different. Almost as if the weight he always carries on his shoulders is gone. He’s just a man, a happy man on a date with a girl he likes. He’s no longer that tough, hardened, hurt man that’s been hurt by the world to the point of no return.

The conversation flows. It’s natural, easy, and before you know it, it’s been hours of you two sitting in the café and talking. When night falls and it starts getting late, Logan takes you back to the mansion. With most of the mansion asleep, you two walk in quietly and it feels like you’re sneaking back in from somewhere you shouldn’t have been.

It’s not like dating between the X-men is forbidden, just…Logan isn’t the type for that and you understand that.

Logan leads you to his room and locks the door after himself.

She’s beautiful. Just standing there, staring at him with those gorgeous eyes…you’ve got him hooked.

He reaches for you, studying your expression, taking in your scent and the sound of your heart. It’s as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.

You, that puts up with all his bullshit, that stands him and his dumbass, that demands respect, that amazes him, that makes him feel like he’s not a complete monster…

What did he ever do right in his long, fucked-up life that ended with the amazing karmic event of you giving him a chance? What did he ever do to deserve you? He’s not sure, but he’s grateful for whatever good luck has befallen him.

He grabs your hand and gently leads you to his bed, his heart racing.

His heart racing? Is he nervous. Since when is he nervous about sex?

He tries to ignore the thought as he lays you down on the bed. Without a second of hesitance, he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs so he can nuzzle against your thighs. He kisses them softly, one after the other, as he pushes your skirt around your waist. He mouths his way up to your pussy, inhaling her scent through the thin material of your panties. He kisses your mound, his eyes fluttering shut. He just lets himself feel, lets himself do whatever he wants however he wants, focusing on you and wanting to give you everything.

Your breathing grows heavy, your hands move to tangle in his hair. He goes slow, every lick and kiss calculated and measured. There’s no trace of the animal here, no trace of that hunger that seems to take over him more often than not. There’s just…him. It’s just him and you in this moment, together.

He gently tugs your panties off and smiles, glancing up at you. He can see the look in his eyes and he recognizes the affection there. And, for once, it doesn’t scare him, doesn’t send him running off. It makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter.

He eats you out gently, taking his time, just enjoying your taste and the way your body writhes under his mouth.

By the time you’re tugging him away, telling him you can’t take anymore, he’s made you come about three times. Smiling, he undresses and crawls onto the bed on top of you.

This time, there’s no screaming. There’s no headboard slamming into the wall or bed springs squeaking. No crazy positions or choking or spanking.

Logan fucks you slow, deep. His cock reaches every spot in you with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

Every deep thrust is punctuated by a groan from him, his breath hitching as you clench around him. He kisses your neck, mouths at your jaw. His hand caresses your cheek, his eyes on yours as he fucks you.

The gentleness of it, the soft care, the warmth in his gaze…it’s too much.

His fingers touch your clit and rub in soft circles, and it takes nothing to push you over the edge. You tumble, back arching, eyes rolling back. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your voice breathy as you whimper into his ear.

“Logan,” you whisper. “Logan.”

And he loses it. You’re not begging for sex. You’re not begging for him to go hard and deep, or for him to relieve you of your stress. You’re begging for more, for the one thing he shouldn’t give you and the one thing he wants to give you.

Your pussy clenches his cock tight as you come and he loses his train of thought. With a shudder and a low moan, he comes in you, spurting his release into your soft cunt. He’d forgotten the condom, but that’s an issue for another day.

He stays where he is, on top of you, and leans his forehead against yours. “Are you okay, bub?” he asks softly, nuzzling his nose with yours.

You nod. “I’m good,” you reply.

He meets your gaze and smiles softly. And, God, the way he’s looking at you…it almost looks as if not only cares about you, but like he could almost, almost…

Love you.

---

a/n: I'm sorry babes!!! I can't believe this took me so long but omg, finals actually kicked my ass and I'm surprised I didn't have a breakdown lol. Buuut, it's finally here. Enjoooooy!!!

---

Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman @ion-even-know @znerac @steviebbboi @insanesosciopath @reidsworld @arrozconpepitoria @meadow-field @sir-thisisadndserver @wolviesgirl @rooroen @tezooks

---

Blog masterlist

[emsprovisions]

❄️ Day 22 - Too Much Holiday Cheer ❄️

🎁 Today's fic is dedicated to @everlastingday!

Summary: When Carlos leaves the Reyes Nochebuena festivities quite a bit drunk, his husband happily takes care of him.

Word count: 835

I am so sorry yesterday's is late! Two drabbles will be posted today! Also, the entire Advent collection will be posted to ao3 on Christmas day :)

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

Carlos is giggly as TK walks him out to the car, having already snagged the keys to the Camaro from his husband’s jacket before he helped Carlos into it. TK eases his drunk husband into the passenger seat and moves around to the driver’s side. He’s already loaded the leftover food and their gifts into the back and they’ve both said their goodbyes, and TK is ready to take Carlos home.

“TK?” Carlos has his head turned against the headrest, still giggling a bit, his eyes half-closed. 

“Yes, my love?”

“I looooove you,” Carlos responds. “You’re so nice and funny.”

“I’m funny?” TK can’t help the laugh that escapes as he glances over at Carlos as he drives. 

“Hilarious!” Carlos giggles. “And you’re so hot. I can’t believe I’ve got the hottest husband in the world.”

“Oh, no, baby, I’ve got a pretty hot husband,” TK purrs, his eyes back on the road, smiling in amusement. 

”You’re married!?”

TK laughs, “To you, babe.”

Carlos reaches across the center console and grabs TK’s arm. TK easily spreads his hand across Carlos’s lap as he clings to him. 

“Mine,” Carlos says, a bit of bite to his voice like he’s fighting someone for TK’s hand. “…TK?”

“Mhmm?”

“Is the car spinning?”

“No, baby, try and close your eyes,” TK urges. He hands Carlos his insulated water bottle from the cup holder. “Sip on this.”

Inwardly, he’s cursing Tío Raúl for putting so much rum into the ponche navideño for Nochebuena tonight. 

Carlos takes a few sips of water before just closing his eyes and clinging to TK’s arm. The drive feels like it lasts forever but they finally make it home, and TK makes it a priority to get Carlos upstairs and into the loft before he grabs the things from the trunk.

He pulls Carlos by the arm into the elevator, and Carlos staggers into him and laughs, dropping his head to TK’s shoulder. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” TK smiles, scratching at the base of Carlos’s head as he complains about the elevator spinning. “Shh, shh, please don’t throw up in the elevator.”

Once they make it inside, TK guides Carlos into their bedroom to start undressing him to get him into pajamas.

“Excuse me!” Carlos swats at TK’s hands. “My husband would not like you taking my clothes off.”

TK can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Babe, I am your husband.”

Carlos blinks his weary eyes and frowns, eyebrows scrunching like he’s thinking hard about something before he starts laughing. 

“I know that. I’m just messing wiffyew,” he slurs, reaching for TK to tug him closer. “TK, come snuggle me.”

TK cups Carlos’s face. “I will, baby. I just need to get you out of these clothes and get the rest of the stuff from the car. Do you think you can manage to take your contacts out or do you need help?”

“Ican do ‘t,” Carlos nods. “The room’s still spinning, TK.”

“I know, baby. I’m going to get you some more water too.” 

TK successfully gets Carlos out of his clothes and shoes and into something comfy to wear, before helping him to the bathroom, where TK watches as he removes his contacts, making sure he doesn’t stab his eye with his finger or need help or anything. Once Carlos’s glasses are on, TK smiles at him.

“Don’t you look cozy,” TK grins, rubbing Carlos’s shoulders. “Let’s get you into bed, big guy.”

Carlos flops onto TK’s pillow, since it’s closer to the bathroom, inching his way beneath the covers and pulling them over his head. He peeks out at TK with a tiny smile. TK just laughs, rubbing the top of Carlos’s head over the blanket. 

“Hi, baby, you doing okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“I’m going to get you some water, alright?”

“Mhmm.”

TK grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and sets it on his own nightstand since that appears to be where Carlos has decided to sleep tonight. He rubs Carlos’s back over the blankets.

“Carlos, I’m going to go get our stuff from the car, try and drink some water while I’m gone.”

“Okay, TK.” 

TK drops a kiss to Carlos’s temple before he leaves, heading back through the door and down to the garage to make a couple of trips carrying food and gifts back upstairs. It’s normally just one trip with Carlos’s help, but TK doesn’t mind doing it by himself. 

By the time TK has brought everything up, and turned out the lights in the rest of the loft, he finds his husband passed out and snoring. He’s rolled over from lying on his stomach and is now splayed out across TK’s pillow, on his back and looking like a starfish, with his mouth gaping open.

TK just shakes his head and moves about their bedroom and bathroom, getting ready for bed. He hopes Carlos doesn’t have a horrible hangover in the morning, but he’ll be happy to take care of him even if he does.

[maudie-duan]

Summary: What happens when the man you've loved since childhood decides he's ready to settle down, but it turns out you are no longer his forever. How would you cope with the sudden engagement? For Blair, it's a hard pill to swallow, knowing that the beautiful girl smiling in all his pictures will get her forever. I guess it's a blue Christmas this year.

A/N: I have to make a confession: I hate Christmas music, but the first time I heard Sabrina Carpenter's 'Cindy Lou Who' I knew this was my kind of Christmas song. I love a sad song, and this song feeds my "angsty soul," So please give it a listen before you read. This whole story is my interpretation of the song. Hope you like it. Happy Holidays enjoy!!!!

Requests: Here

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Mentions of Sex, Strong Angst and Laungue, Family Dynamics, Mentions of Pregnancy, Heartbreak.

I don’t think sneaking my ex-boyfriend out of my parent’s house is the best look for anyone on Christmas morning, but technically, it’s still Christmas Eve if you haven’t gone to sleep yet, right?—To be fair, he was the one knocking on my window, stumbling his way to my bed. Casually, bringing up the past, circling back to things I thought I had already unpacked with my best friend after I scrolled his girlfriend’s social media, backtracking five years, to be honest, she had me broader line obsessed.

He made his way to my bed and in between my legs, touching place and sharing space in the best way we knew how, and that’s the funny thing about having history with someone—sometimes it makes it harder to say no when it’s knowingly what you want the second they step foot into a place that once served as a sanctuary to you both—a garden where words weaved trust, that turned into secrets, carving out a space of our very own; a world that we created and while he wasn’t my first kiss he was everything else.

I’ve lost track of how many times our words of forever were passed between our mouths, tangled in shared breaths of “I swear until the day I die, I’m yours.” When you’re young, you believe it because it’s all you have—and we took that with us when we thought we were ready for the world—two foolish kids on an endeavor to forge these grown-up dreams of a grand gesture without a second thought, only relying on the word “love,” like love could weather any storm.

The hardest lesson we learned was that love isn’t always enough. Sometimes, you can love someone with all your being and forget that they’re not a possession—but a person. Was that our mistake? I don’t know, but we wanted to be our own people at some point and find ourselves outside of only identifying as “we.” 

Let me tell you, that’s a hard pill to swallow, and from time to time, I still find myself choking on it, especially when it is obvious we still click—we didn’t need sex to know that we still worked, fit together like a puzzle that had been forgotten, and dusted off, only to find that you still had every single piece. Still, when Harry tried to kiss me goodbye, I pulled away.

“Hey—what is it…tell me?” he asks

“Nothing…it’s just late. You know how my mom is about Christmas morning.” I lie because the reality of his leaving is starting to sink in. I’m not ready for him to leave, but we both knew that there would be an ending to this.

He laughs, attempting to shrug his jacket on, and I glimpse the joy of the familiar memory dance across his features, “Yeah, she can be kind of crazy, right?”

“Yeah—but not any crazier than your mom,” I laugh. 

“Hey now—actually…you know they kind of feed off each others crazy…” He says, fighting to find the sleeve of his jacket, and when I reach to help, something falls from his pocket, a loud thud clashing against the hardwood floor. I look down, thinking he knocked something off my shelf, but then I see it.

We both stare at the ground, a small box lying in the space between us, “You shouldn’t have…” I declare, bending down—Looking back now, I don’t know what I was thinking—You know this tends to happen when you rely on your wit to get you out of awkward situations. I thought it would be cute and clever. I would open the box, and it wouldn’t be exactly what I knew it was—a ring, but not just any ring—the ring.

“Hey—hey—hey…give me that,” He jokes, trying to turn it into a game, but I’m in too deep to give it up. I can only focus on getting a peek at the ring, which is now a broken promise, and right this second, I’m desperate enough to open this box—basque in the feeling of the “what if” this was mine.

I turn away, shoving his hand out of the way, compulsively straining to get a look at this ring, immediately getting aggressive when he tries to reach over my shoulder. “Stop Harry—” I urge.

“Come on, Blair—this isn’t funny…” He says, unamused, but he’s too late, and as I shove my elbow into his ribs, the box is flipping open, the glint of the diamond catching the light of the moon shining through the window. He stops then because what’s the use, right? Here it is—the ring—perfect, everything I would have wanted. It’s almost like a slap in the face, like he looked back on one of the many pictures I sent over the years, thinking one day this would be me. 

The ring is stunningly beautiful. There is so little light yet it’s drawn to every facet; immaculate, precise cuts creating the perfect sparkle. There is nothing humble about it, but nothing seems to be humble about him anymore, including his life choices—and here I am, holding my breath, afraid to move, listening to his flustered exhale when I slam the box closed, a loud clap shut. 

Without a word, I nudge him away from me, “Blair, listen—I was going to tell you…”

“When—? Before or after we had sex, Harry…Is that what this was?” I yell.

He panics and cups a hand over my mouth. It’s not hard, but it annoys the hell out of me, and I wrench his arm away, forcing him toward the window, “Don’t you fucking do that—you don’t get to do that—”

“I’m sorry—but seriously, Blair, let’s not wake your family,”

I let out a dry laugh, “Oh—trust me, they would understand—” I seeth.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Blair, that’s not fair—I don’t know what this was…I just really wanted to see you—” he says, raking a hand through his hair, a deep crease forming between his brows, and he licks his lips, running a hand down his face as he turns away.

“What do you want me to do? This is the way it’s supposed to work out. You know my family …I don’t really have a say. You know that—”

“Please—Harry—you’re almost 30 years old. You don’t think you have any say in your life?”

He turns around, a condescending laugh filling the space, “You of all people should understand…”

“Well—I thought I did…but I don’t think I do anymore. It just doesn’t make sense…none of this seems to make sense anymore. I don’t understand how we could be perfectly fine one day, and as soon as your dad put you on the path to be a partner at his firm—which we both knew would happen—” I start.

He shakes his head, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, contemplating my words, “Help me make it; make sense. When we knew all along what the path was going to be. Were did “WE” get lost because I did nothing but support you, and then you went away on that trip with your family—”

“And you’re on about this again…” he interrupts, words cutting like knives because this was the theme of some of our biggest arguments.

I’m shaking my head this time, confusion inching through my brain, straining to grasp for details I thought I packed away. “Now that’s not fair…” I force, my throat burning with the effort of biting back tears. 

“Listen—this is my fault—” he says, reaching for the box, “I shouldn’t have come. I knew this would be a bad idea, but I just—”

I grasp onto the box, wanting to catch his eyes. I want to see the regret, “Tell me, does it hurt you, hurting me…I could have waited for your mom’s Facebook post…I know she’s over the moon with her…just fucking smitten that’s she’s everything and more—”

“I should go,” he says, his eyes darting to the window before he slides the box into his pocket. He opens the window, and the cold breeze flits into the dark room, reminding me of how little I have on. My eyes float to the bed, already mourning us like a fading memory—disappointment crawling up my spine, the sick twist of regret already tearing at my emotions as tears fill my eyes.

“Yeah, this was a bad idea…” I tell him, choking on the words, and I can feel my body starting to tremble. I want him gone, forever, to leave and be with his girlfriend, who will get him in the daylight. Who will kiss the mouth of the man I love for the rest of her life—and I’m sick—sick with the thought of them—and damn—This was easier when there was distance when I could pretend he didn’t exist.

“I’m sorry, bee—” He whispers, a slight trimmer in his voice as he reaches out to me, and let him because if this is all that is left. I want that last kiss. I want a kiss from the lips that were once mine, but when he pulls me in, I reach for his face, and he interjects, grasping my hands in his, denying me my one last wish.

“Harry…” I whisper, hot tears burning my eyes, “It’s just you and me right now…” I plead because he has that look of goodbye in his eyes; the reality setting in, like me standing here in his old tee-shirt, is too real for him—The cold draft of the air brings the world in with it. Yes, I feel it too, but his hands are so warm, his face is so sweet and kind, and I know what he’s about to do.

“Bee—” He tries, swallowing hard, like the words are stuck in his throat, tears drawing in his eyes, and he rubs his lips together, shaking his head as his eyes dart to our hands, and I grip his hands harder because he’s going to leave—he’s going to leave, and I’m never going to get his back; This man—the love of my life. There’s never a time he hasn’t had me, and he’s going to leave, he’s going to move on, and he will still have me because I could never let him go.

And when the tears spill over and fall down his cheeks, my body aches with a longing that’s so deep in my bone it hurts—my love for him hurts so fucking bad that I don’t think I’ll ever not love him or not want to be with him. He’s standing here breaking my heart all over again, and I still love him. I still want him always and forever like he fucking promised me because he did promise, and now she gets him; she gets to have my always and forever.

Now he’s pulling away, and I won’t let him go; I can’t let him go. “Bee…please…” he begs softly.

“I love you,” I cry out, “I love you so much, H—” and he pulls me into his body, letting me sob into his chest, my hot breath seeping into his body, and I breathe him in, trying to memorize our scent, but it there like muscle memory something I could never forget.

“You know I love you, Bee…” he breathes, pressing a warm kiss to the top of my head, “You know I will always love you, but you know that we can never do this again…”

His words slice through my pain, filling me with rage, and he’s right. We can’t do this ever again; he doesn’t get to have me like this and go back to her—and I’m so fucking mad at myself for falling into his trap because I’ve been so good. I can’t even remember the last time I talked to him. He knew what would happen when he knocked on my window, and I was so stupid to let him—yet here he is still wielding his power. 

“You have to go,” I tell him, trying to force myself from his arms, and Harry’s grip tightens.

“I’m sorry, Bee—”

“No—this was wrong—this was all wrong, and you shouldn’t have done this…we shouldn’t have done this—”

I push him toward the window, angry adrenaline a trimmer in my fingertips when I bring a shaky hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear, “You did this to us…” I tell him.

“I’m—” he starts, and I know he’s just going to try and apologize, but that will never be enough, not when I know what happens next—and what? Did he use me? Did he feel sad and come looking for my sympathy?

“Leave—” I spit.

“Bee…come on—”

“Leave!” I say louder, loud enough to send an echo through the room. He stiffens, his panic reaching his face, and I cross my arms over my chest.

“Fine—” he hisses, his hair falling into his face as he bends his body halfway through the window. Harry doesn’t even look back; he doesn’t even give me a tiny morsel of hope, and I don’t know what I was expecting. Then Harry is out the window, and I slam it shut, swiping the curtains closed.

“Merry fucking Christmas, you Asshole…” I breathe, falling onto the bed to cry. 

…

Here’s the thing about Christmas in my house: we wake up and celebrate, and nothing else is allowed. It’s the one time of the year when my mom is allowed to live in the delusion that everything is merry and bright. There’s no space to be sad. She’s up with the rising sun, her hair perfectly manicured, her make-up set for pictures, wrapped in a festive robe she just “rolled out of bed” in, and then she’s on to two more outfit changes. 

So this morning, when I woke, ready to welcome her joyful cheer, I was surprised to see none. I found her standing at the sink, my dad leaning against the counter like I had just interrupted a fight, maybe some disagreement they didn’t want me part of. My first thought was that they knew. They saw Harry leaving, or maybe my voice had carried, and they heard me arguing with him.

It was like being a teenager all over again as I walked toward the coffee maker to pour myself a cup. Without fail, the clink of the dish against the stone countertop ricochets through the thick silence in the room, making me jumpy; the slurp of the pour is interrupted when my mom speaks. “All I’m going to say is let’s get through this day. I don’t want to talk about it. We can call all touch base once everyone is gone—Bee, will you stay longer this time or not?” 

I’m in the midst of taking a sip, and the hot liquid hits my top lip, burning me as my eyes move from my dad to my mom in question, confused by whatever this is that I walked in on, “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay longer…I have a project—”

“Can you—?” she asks flatly like you better say “yes.” 

I look to my dad, who raises his brows, eyes widening, and he blows out a breath, his lip puffing as he brings his coffee to his mouth, “Fine.” I answer because it doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.

And that was it—She switched up her mood as quickly as the conversation ended. I stood there sipping my coffee, mentally preparing, and that’s how we carried on, pushing it under the rug.

It started with presents, each gift given its proper praise, mom all smiles, dad snapping pictures, my sister nudging my shoulder as a constant reminder to keep up the show, and it was perfect—it was— but every time the camera flashed. I could feel myself drifting to the thought of all the pictures that would greet me when I opened my phone—How her red lips and long dark hair would steal my breath, her beauty outshining us all. 

She became the jealous quake in my bones at the thought of Harry down on one knee, entrancing my thoughts, repeatedly threatening to pull me out of the moment—and now my mom is shouting from across the room, bidding for my attention, as I try and swallow the persistent lump burning a hole in my throat, making every word a battle of will to say the most straight-forward sentence—and it wasn’t fair; It wasn’t fair that I got to sit with it all day—a reel of memories cascading through my mind, always the slightest reminder to remind me of the past.

The smallest gestures, a deep-seeded pain strangling my insides; all my dad had to do was glance down at his watch. The watch Harry gave him when he turned forty or every time my mom tucked her behind her ear, I caught sight of the diamond earrings he got her and his mom, making them both laugh the last Christmas we all shared because that was our thing—it almost doesn’t seem real that our moms used to be best friends, nowadays it feels like a lifetime since they even shared one word, my mom growing bitter the day Harry broke my heart.

A sudden breakup can wreck anyone, and inherently, our families became the collateral damage, causing a complicated ripple through our families, a rigid divide that none of us knew how to address, let alone manage any semblance of a relationship; maybe that was our fault. I couldn’t be his friend. It hurt too much to try and mask my feelings, to manipulate them into something they weren’t, like right now—how I’m torturing myself, scrolling through social media, almost hoping I’ll see the pictures I know his mom will post. Perhaps it will be what I need; to rip the bandaid off, the right push I need to fucking move on because I don’t know how much longer I can live in the misery of what was and wasn’t.

Dissasoiating—the word of the day—a single word that could describe my whole day because somehow it’s dinner, and I’m sitting around the table trying to piece together the lapse in time I’ve lost. All it takes is one look at my mom to straighten up and be present. I don’t even know what they’re talking about, nor do I care, but when my cousin Jenny asks me to pass the potatoes, and the light captures the glint of her new engagement ring, my stomach drops, the hideous ache of jealousy climbing up my spine, and I’m sick again, my stomach turning at the thought, that maybe he’s already done it, maybe he’s asked her and she’s wearing his ring on her finger, and they’re sitting around the table; and every time she takes a bite it reflects the light from the chandler, everyone smiling because what a happy time, what a perfect day; what a bright fucking future they have.

This time, I can’t control it; it’s all too much, and I’m scraping the chair back, politely excusing myself, then bounding to the upstairs bathroom, yanking my phone from my pocket—and without a passing thought, I’m doing it—I’m calling Harry—by the first ring, I’m in panic mode, pacing back and forth, willing myself to end the call, trying to keep the phone from sliding down my sweaty palm.

I’m all adrenaline as I force the phone against my ear, the ring getting louder, and each time it rings, a gnarled knot of guilt builds in the depth of my belly. I keep looking to the toilet on the verge of falling to my knees and heaving anything that made its way to my stomach—then Harry forwards the fucking call to voicemail, and tears are spilling over my lids, my whole body hot, like maybe I’ll combust right here, explode with the fury of heat rising in my body.

I’m surprising myself when I press his name again, bringing the phone back to my ear, and I hold my breath, waiting for the first ring. It rings and then rings again, and by the third ring, I think I might get through—and it’s all a joke because yeah fucking right—By the fifth ring, I’m second-guessing myself again, shame eating away at my flesh, and then he’s forwarding the call again—my shame flying out the window.

Okay, yes, maybe this is the part where I tell you I should be embarrassed—but fuck it, I’m calling again, losing myself a little more each time he forwards my call. By the 8th call, I’m tormenting myself, a pitiful excuse of a human on the ground so caught up in my own grief that I don’t even hear my sister knocking on the door. The knock sounds, making my heart leap in my chest, the fear of being caught ripping through like an earth quack, and I’m up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror, not even recognizing the person looking back at me. 

I haven’t felt this desperate since we broke up, like an anxious tick buzzing under my skin. The humiliation of it all is a time bomb, counting down the seconds until it ignites inside me—and I’m there. I ignore the steady stream of knocks and crouch down like the monster I’ve become because I can’t look at myself and do what I know I’m about to do—it’s my one last stance, and I shoot Harry a text:

“Your a fucking coward!” I send and then realize I used the wrong fucking “your,” and my pride won’t let me go out like this. I send a quick “you’re” to fix my mistake and watch the screen, knowing he is now more aware of his than before. When the line changes from “delivered” to “read,” I watch the tiny dots collect in the corner of the screen, awaiting his reply—they appear and disappear several times until it finally stops altogether, and he leaves me on read.

Just as I’m about to send “fuck you!” my sister opens the door, pushing the bobby pin she used to pick the lock back into her hair, and closes the door behind her. “Dude, whatever is going on right now—you need to get it together—it’s one fucking day, okay…that’s all mom asks for, and she’s down there growing impatient. So seriously…if you’re up here freaking out about another dude you met on a dating app—like this isn’t the time—”

“I had sex with Harry—” I confess right then and there because I know this will be the only thing that will make her understand.

“No—” she says, pulling a handful of toilet paper from the roll, “We’re not doing this right now…” She wipes the tears from my face and forces me out of the bathroom and into my room.

“You have two minutes to get your shit together. I need Mom to be in a good mood today…listen, I have big shit going on too, but you don’t see me up here crying—” and she’s right. I saw her pregnancy test in our shared bathroom trash. She must have been panicked when she half-assed her wrapping job on her test. I know I taught her better than that, but this was what I needed to pull myself back up.

I came down the stairs with a smile. Everyone in the sitting room was having coffee and dessert; this was the last stretch. This is all we had left, and then I can check my phone that my sister made me leave upstairs—and so I would drone on keeping up with conversations, tossing out witty remakes, bringing laughter and joy to everyone around, and when my mom sent me a genuine smile, I felt myself smiling back, enjoying the company of my family; and when dad slipped me the “good” eggnog I realized that there’s nothing better at taking the edge off then alcohol.

Four eggnogs in on an empty stomach, and I was working the room, exaggerating about my life and all the projects I’ve taken on at work, dodging questions about my dating life, and when my grandma brought up Harry four times, dammit, I didn’t even flinch, I just kept the conversation moving, filter out the emotions coursing through me like a breeze on a sunny day, right before a summer storm sets in. I even kept it cute and classy when cousin Jen took her engagement ring on a tour around the room, gutting me like a fish when she said, “I never thought I would get married before you…you know…like you and Harry were like “it” you know—” and I’m smiling again, getting a nod of approval from mom when she hears me congratulate Jen again, admiring her beautiful ring.

By eggnog five, I’m switching to “what he’s having,” I shout to my dad as I watched him pour, maybe whisky over the rocks, a shallow pour, but it packed a punch. I knew it was time to dial it back when I found myself leaning over Jenny, who was flipping between her social platforms, landing on Facebook, where I know for a fact Harry’s mom would be posting, taking care to tag everyone in each photo—which brings me back to the time when dear ole’ cousin Jenny started following Harry. It was Christmas break, we had just turned fifteen, and I could tell she had a crush on him. She spent all Christmas break following us around, cornering him anytime she could get him alone; I had to share my bed with her that Christmas, and I remember how miserable I was without the gift of Harry crawling through my window on Christmas Eve.

It’s wild to think of how feeble my grasp on time was when we were young, how a couple of weeks could feel like an eternity; it’s been less than a day since I saw him last. How am I supposed to go a lifetime of never hearing his voice again, to look into those green eyes that have seen me through so many changes, not to feel those hands that have cradled me like a child, held me like a lover, squeezing and pulling me into shapes that fit him; arms that carried and lifted me to heights that I could never have reached on my own—and maybe I speaking figuratively because no one has carried me at my worst or lifted me at my best until I was the best version of myself, but isn’t funny how the people that bring out our best know exactly how to rally the worst parts of us.

Mom taps her dessert spoon to her glass, grabbing everyone’s attention. It’s time for her big send-off speech. My eyes dart to my sister leaning against the fireplace, rolling her eyes, “I just want to start by saying I’m so thrilled that you’ve all chosen to spend this joyous holiday with us…you all know this is my absolute favorite holiday and every year I look forward to spending it with each and every one of you—” she tells us raising her glass, and everyone knows what’s coming next and as she starts her final lines— the same lines she uses every year—my sister sends me a wink mouthing the lines in unison with our mother.

“There’s no time like Christmas to let you know how appreciated you are. I feel honored to call you family…” and her hook, line, and sinker is, “May the light of Christmas warm your hearts this holiday season and remember love is the true spirit of Christmas—” 

My throat burns as she finishes, “And always know how much I love you and always will…so before I start getting too emotional, I better cut myself off—” she laughs, wiping a tear from her eye, and as much as I hate how crazy she gets about Christmas, she really is amazing at being so selfless; to give everyone such a beautiful day, and I’m so grateful for her and my family, and then the doorbell rings taken everyone by surprise. We all freeze, eyes moving around the room because we’re all here, and no one is expecting anyone.

“Fred—” my mom calls to my dad. “Are we expecting anyone else?” 

My dad’s reaction is slow, but he launches himself from the chair and excuses himself. When he comes back, he looks bewildered, half-tipsy as he shrugs his shoulder to tell us no one was there—and that was that. No one blinked an eye—yet my first thought was Harry, and I felt myself slipping because the whole day had passed; certainly, theirs was over by now, and the thought had me breaking my own heart, picturing her in his old bed, the whole family tucked away in their rooms, still riding out the high of such a magically joyful day.

And she’ll kiss his lip and say, “I love you.” He’ll lay her down in the bed I gave myself to him in, and he’ll make love to her like he loved me last night, and there is no end; there’s no end to the torture of it all because how can one person fuse themselves to every fiber of my being—and more importantly how could I still allow it?

As the last guest passed our threshold, Mom, being the gracious host she was, sent them off with candies and cookies, and I stood there wishing I was more like her, like my sister, who could always pretend, who knew how to wear “the smile” like a badge of honor. I wondered why this all had to be so hard. Why is love all or nothing? Why can’t we flip a switch and “poof,” it’s gone?

I watched my mom close the door, my siblings dispersing, and my dad already making his way back to his chair, but my mom just stood there. She let out a heavy sigh, her once perfect posture decompressing as she held on to the doorknob, “Oh Bee—” she said, eventually turning around to face me, and suddenly it looked like the weight of the day had finally caught up to her beautiful features, now tired—a mournful pinch between her brows, pursuing her lip while her eyes roamed my face. I’m trying my hardest to keep it together because there is something about that look a mom can give, that “I can fix everything with a hug” look.

“Do you need anything…I didn’t sleep very well last night. I was thinking of calling it early. if that’s okay?” I ask

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it…it’s been a long day for everyone,” she states, unbuttoning the first two buttons of her silk blouse, that mourful look still lacing her features.

“Let’s just deal with the clean up tomorrow…sound good, baby?” she tells me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, “I know today was hard for you…Thank you for being such a good sport. I’m so proud of the way you handled yourself. You did a beautiful job, sweetie.”  Her words catch me off guard, and I turn to face her, my throat burning at the thought that she knows everything.

I swallow hard, opening my mouth to let out the words building up, but I can only manage a small whimper. “Listen, honey,” Mom starts, and I’m already a puddle in her arms, wanting my mommy to make it all better.

“I’m not going to lie and say it gets better, but one day, it’s not going to hurt as bad as it hurts right now, and eventually, when you find someone new—” 

I gasped out a sob then, her words hitting every sore spot on my body, “Shhh—Shh—I know baby, I know—but listen,” She said, cradling my face in her hands, “I know that this isn’t what you want to hear—”

“But one day you will find someone new, and they’ll be just enough to get you over that last slump of pain, and maybe if you’re lucky enough…which I know you are…Harry will become a pleasant memory of the past, baby, because both of you were so lucky to have what you had. Not everyone will get to say they had a love like the two of you shared, and that is so so special, honey, so special—”

The tears are rolling down my cheeks faster than my mom can swipe them away, and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have to keep myself upright, “I love him so much—” I push past the sob, shuttering through me.

“I know, honey, I know—one of the hardest lessons we can learn is to let the people we love go, let them go so they can be free, and if it’s meant to be, they’ll come back—”

“I can’t, Mom, I can’t do it,” I cry, trying to bury my face into her shoulder, but she has a firm grip on it. Blair Marie, you are so strong, honey, and we are all here for you. You can do this, okay?” she says, nodding her head up and down.

“Okay?” She asks again, and I nod in agreement, “Listen—between you and me, we’re going to have our hands full anyway, right? Don’t think I don’t know about your sister—she’s next.”

I’m stunned into silence. “Yeah, I know. That’s how I felt at first. Honey, I love you. I am here for you. Now go get some rest…” she says, pushing me toward the stairs.

“Oh—and hopefully, we aren’t expecting any unexpected guests this evening….”

I shake my head, “I—” 

“Yeah, slamming your window at the crack of dawn is a dead give away—”

Somehow, she manages to get a smile out of me, and I roll my eyes, ready to make my way up the stairs, “Hey, Mom, thank you for making today so beautiful…it really was beautiful.” I tell her.

“Oh—! And Mom, thank you for those kind words. I love you.” she smiles, placing a hand over her heart, and we share a look of knowing—and without a doubt, that woman managed to lift my spirits—again. She’s too good at that; she is father fucking Christmas.

And while my heart still felt heavy, I felt like I could get through this night. I would march into my room, head straight for my phone, and turn it off; there would be no doomsday scrolling. I would take a shower, hell maybe even take a hot bath to rid myself of this day—Maybe I would even start packing away everything in my childhood room that reminded me of him, set myself up for the next year, and seriously, it was amazing how quickly the motivation surged up my chest; almost bursting at the seams with the very thought of it.

So by the time I turned my knob, I was ready, so fucking ready—But as the door clicked open, a cold chill grazed over my wrist. All I saw was my curtains billowing back and forth with the breeze flowing in and out of my window, and I rushed over to shut the damn window because I didn’t remember opening it, but maybe my sister opened it while I was fixing my make up earlier and that’s when I hear it:

“Bee—” 

I slam the window shut, panic rushing through me, every limb of my body shaking with it as I turn toward the sound. And there he is, the love of my life, sitting on the edge of my bed, hunched over with his face buried in his hands, and when he looks up. I can tell he’s been crying, and he pulls a small box from his pocket and places it on the nightstand, right next to the very same box that held his future, and all he says is, “I couldn’t do it—”

[cakerybakery]

I stayed up too late last night editing “One Last Plan” and writing. I’m trying to bake ginger snaps but I just want to sleep.

I can’t even write. I wanted to do a short one about Adam finding out he’s hot in hell because he got hit on without realizing it and the guy ran off because he pointed out Charlie and Lucifer and the guy thought Lucifer was Adam’s husband. Then when he tells Charlie she’s like, well you are attractive, and it blows Adam’s mind because he hadn’t been hot in heaven in a long time and so when he did get laid he bragged about it endlessly.

It gives him some confidence and he even jokingly flirts with Lucifer, giving him a very confusing time. Lucifer is still pissed about Adam but now also horny for him.

Lucifer doesn’t know how to act now and Adam is confused as fuck. So he talks to Charlie and she watches Lucifer and out loud is like, oh shit he’s into you.

And she can’t walk that back.

So now everyone that matters knows Lucifer is into Adam except Lucifer who can’t figure out why he’s acting like a moron.

Adam is now thinking about how Lucifer is into him and at first is like, ha ha eww. Then Lucifer does something stupid trying to impress Adam and it’s, ha ha aww. He being charmed without realizing it.

He flirts to make Lucifer look dumb, then he flirts because Lucifer is cute when he does something dumb, then he flirts because Lucifer is really kind of cute. By then it’s too late. His heart is doing little flips and beating so fast and Lucifer really is cute and kind of funny, and sweet.

Adam is walking to the kitchen to get a vase for the flowers Lucifer got him, thinking about how sweet Lucifer is, and it hits him that he’s got a crush.

Maybe he’s a little less straight than he thought.

And maybe he should clue poor Lucifer in too.

[nicola-fiore]

A selection of the daily letters (sent but undelivered) to Gio Fiore:

26 August 2017

Dear Gio, I'm writing you this letter because even as summer's ended, my father has yet to give me back my phone and laptop. So I hope that, somehow, this gets to you. Papa, Enzo and I are back in Milan. It's only an hour's drive away from Laglio, but it felt like it went on forever. The whole ride over, I couldn't stop thinking about you, and why you didn't show. You promised last night you'd come see me off but there was no sign of you at all. No call, no text, not even a note. Have I said something last night that's offended you? Or maybe done something to push you away? Whatever it is, please tell me, so I can make things right. I miss you so much already, but love you even more. I hope to hear from you soon. Yours always, Nicola xo

01 September 2017

My dearest Gio, It's been a week since I've seen or heard from you, and every day, I miss you more and more. It's another few days until school starts, but my father's announced at dinner tonight that we'll be moving all the way to the other end of the country — far, far away from you, to his hometown in Palermo, Sicily. At first I didn't understand why he would be pulling me out of school my senior year, but eventually, he came clean. It's to protect the baby, he said. But I don't know if I can fully believe him. Something in me feels like it might have more to do with not letting anyone in Milan know that his teenage daughter is with child. I wish you were here. More than anything. Love always, Nicola xo

08 September 2017

Tesoro mio, Palermo is beautiful, not unlike Laglio. It's sunny here most of the time, and I spend my days taking walks. My doctor here said it's good for both me and the baby. But I get tired often. That's to be expected, she said and I just nod along. I don't tell her that I don't really sleep well at night. I'd hate for it to somehow reach my father's ears. Everyone here knows everybody. But it's okay, I don't really mind the walks. I don't know anyone else here so walking passes the time. I've attached our address at the back of this letter, in case you can come and visit. I hope you do. I miss you terribly. Until then, Nicola xo

15 September 2017

My darling Gio, I had an ultrasound appointment this morning. Our baby's heartbeat is getting stronger with each visit. I wish I could somehow send you a snippet of it but I've no way to send it to you. My father has given me back my laptop, for school, but there's no internet in the house. We should appreciate nature more, he said. As if me taking my daily walks isn't enough. Still, I'll keep the audio file for when I can send you things online again. Thinking about you Nicola xo

03 October 2017

Cuore mio, This letter's a little bulkier than usual. I found this cute birthday card the other day and thought you might find it funny. I've also attached a photo of me and baby. As you can see, my bump's more noticeable now. I hope you're celebrating your special day as wonderfully as we had planned it should be. I'm sorry I'm not there to personally wish you a happy birthday. But please know that I'm thinking of you always. Happy birthday, my love. May you have many, many more to come. Love you forever, Nicola xo

16 October 2017

My love! We're having a boy! I just got back from another ultrasound check and was told that we're having a boy! I've included a snapshot of him in the envelope. It's a little hard to see but I promise, it's there! Haha! I know it's late but perhaps this can serve as my late birthday present. :) Wish you were here, Nicola xo

28 November 2017

Dear Gio, Felt our son kick for the very first time just now, and the first thing I thought of was to tell you so you could feel it, too. That is, until I remembered that you're not here. Oh well, at least you'll know when this gets to you. Better late than never, I guess. Goodnight for now, Nicola xo

25 December 2017

Dearest darling, I hope you're keeping warm there in Laglio. When my mother was still alive, she used to tell me of how the winters there can get quite cold. So, please don't forget to wear your jacket. And gloves. And a hat! I'd hate for you to ever get sick, especially during the holidays. I wish we were spending Christmas together but hearing from you would be more than enough for me. Either way, I wish you and your family a very happy holiday season. And I hope you receive everything you've wished for. Merry Christmas, amore mio. I love you. Forever yours, Nicola xo

27 December 2017

Love of my life, I hope that by the time this reaches you, it'd be New Year's Eve, so that in a way, I'm there with you when the new year rolls around. As the year slowly comes to a close, I find myself torn. Saying goodbye to this year feels like bidding you — and our memory together — a final farewell. But as much as it pains me that we won't be starting 2018 like we wanted to, in three months' time, our son will be here. And I can only pray that you will be with us by then, too. Please never forget how much I love you. Until my last breath, I am forever yours. Your Nicola xo

[mikeluciraphgabe]

Happy pride month! - OH GOD CANADA IS ON FIRE QUICK GET THE MAPLE SYRUP

[umblrspectrum]

so like is it specifically planets the solver craves or can it get by with just eating dirt off the ground