#this oneshot reeks of fluff

[bluebeary-jay]

hiii ves! congrats on 1000! 💗

how about a joel miller fluffy piece with

how is it you always know what i need, huh? for the prompt? 🫶🏽

Hiiiii my lovely Mari!!! 🥰💗 Thank you so so much for your words but thank you even more for being a ray of sunshine in my life 🥺🫶 istg i wanna give you a thousand kisses

Aaaand here you go! I spent much more time on this lil fic than I should but I really like how it turned out and I hope you will too!! Thank you LOTS for requesting, love you!! 💕

You haven’t been feeling well since the morning.

Joel knew it must’ve been because of the rain which caught the two of you during the patrol the day before, leaving you completely drenched despite his efforts. How was it possible that he gave you his jacket and you still catched a cold while he didn’t even have a runny nose, was a mystery to him. But it didn’t really matter since here you were, unwell and not even able to leave the bed.

Good thing Joel knew how to take care of his girl.

He passed by Tommy’s early in the morning to pick up some medicine for you and went to the market to buy that citrus tea he knew you liked. When he got back you were still asleep but woke up several hours later with a headache and a runny nose. Joel stayed with you, catering to your every need and only leaving to prepare you breakfast. A sweet little thing you were, you didn’t want to let him do everything by himself, but he managed to convince you it’s no problem at all.

You were so difficult sometimes, though.

“There you go, babygirl,” he crooned, helping you sit up and propping up the pillow for you some time after you finished eating. “Easy now. Don’t rush yourself.”

“Joel, I’m fine,” you rasped with a sore throat, but he sent you a doubtful look and you groaned in defeat. “Okay, that was a lie. I feel terrible. But it’s not a reason for you to baby me.”

“M’not babyin’ you.” It was your turn to lift your eyebrows at him, unconvinced, and the corner of his lips twitched in a soft smile before he leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on your warm forehead. “‘Kay, maybe I am. But ya like it.”

“You wish.”

“And you don’t give me many chances to really coddle you,” he continued in a murmur, slowly brushing the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and let out a weak moan, and Joel smiled with compassion. “So honestly, you can look at it as a favor t’me. Can you do that, babygirl? Let me take care of you and make me happy?”

“Always the caretaker,” you laughed breathlessly and peered up at him through your eyelashes. Even though your nose was red, your eyes swollen and your complexion had that sick look to it, you still were the most beautiful sight Joel has ever beheld. “You don’t need to stay with me, though. I can manage by myself.”

“I know. But I want to.”

“Stubborn man.”

Joel opened his mouth to tease you back, but then he saw you shivering and furrowed his brow.

“Are you cold?” he asked, though he was already sure that was the case. You nodded.

“A little. Can you grab me…”

“...that blanket with little ducks on it?” he finished for you, causing you to giggle and gaze at him with affection. “I know ya like it ‘cause it’s the fluffiest.”

“The softest,” you said at exactly the same time. “Yeah.”

Your eyes were filled with so much love that Joel felt weak in his knees. He tore his eyes away from you and turned around to the closet to grab your blanket from the highest shelf. You shifted to one side of the bed, probably so that Joel could lie down by your side, but before he did that he tucked you in carefully, making sure you were warm and comfortable. Then he dashed to the kitchen, bringing back a glass of water and another pill for you to take.

Only then he laid down behind you, enfolding your cocooned form and pulling you closer to his chest. You closed your eyes with a blissful smile and sighed deeply.

“Don’t even say anythin’ about infectin’ me with it,” Joel murmured, knowing that you’re probably already worrying about him in that pretty little head of yours. He wrapped his arms tighter around you through the many blankets. “I’ll be fine. And you’re still cold.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anythin’,” you answered softly with your eyes still closed. “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“How is it you always know what I need, huh?”

He chuckled and adjusted the duvet by your neck, making sure that no cold air could sneak its way under the covers.

“My psychic abilities,” he whispered in response and his smile grew when he felt your torso shake with laughter under his arm. Joel kissed the back of your head and then went lower to press his lips to your neck, causing you to squirm slightly. “But truthfully, it’s ‘cause I love ya so much.”

You snorted. “Such a romantic.”

“S’true.”

“Well, I love you more.” He hummed in a ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about’ fashion, and you groaned in weariness. Joel felt your body relaxing in his hold. “You’re so warm, baby. And so good to me.”

“Anythin’ for you, love.” He wanted to kiss your head once more but suddenly you started to wiggle, forcing him to move back a little to give you room to maneuver. “What’re doin’ now?”

“Shh.” You made a couple more adorable grunts before you finally stopped, now facing Joel and beaming proudly. “Ta-da!”

“You’re silly.” Joel shook his head, but internally he was spellbound by the significance of your action. You wanted to be face to face with him and he was glad for the opportunity to kiss your forehead now. “My sweet babygirl. You should rest, not wiggle ‘round.”

“Tsk!” you silenced him again and kicked his leg, though because of how many covers you were under, it felt more like a gentle nudge. “Gimme your leg.”

“Give ya it where?” he asked in response with a faint smile, and you huffed impatiently, your head hitting the pillow again when you grew tired of keeping it up in the air.

“Throw it over me. Please?” you added when he initially didn’t move. Joel indulged you, though not without hesitation.

“You sure? I don’t wanna crush you…”

“You won’t.” You assured him and snuggled your face into his chest, causing butterflies to flutter around in Joel’s belly. “I like feelin’ your weight on me.”

“Like an extra blanket?” he joked, to which you snorted as well.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Better than the one with ducks?”

“The best one.”

He smiled with adoration and pulled you in closer, caging you in his arms. You didn’t seem to mind, though, and freed your hand from the blankets to wrap one arm around his stomach, keeping the other one between your chests. The heat from under the duvet instantly started to become too much for Joel, but he tried to disregard the uncomfortable feeling for now.

“Stay for a while, darling,” you asked suddenly, your voice muffled from the way you had your cheek pressed against his chest. Joel looked down and saw your eyes closed and a serene smile on your face, the sight of which made him swoon. “I feel so warm like this with you. And safe.”

“You are,” Joel assured you softly and put his palm on the back of your head. “I’ll keep ya safe, sweetheart, I promise. You can sleep soundly.”

You sniffed and whined weakly. “M’not sleepy. Let’s just stay like that.”

“You need to get your strength back.” Joel moved his head to kiss your hot forehead again and smiled faintly against your skin. You opened your mouth to retort, but he cut you off before you could even start. “And no buts. You said it yourself, after all…”

You grumbled quietly, but Joel could see you were tired, your eyes already closing again. He took a deep breath, not caring about the risk of catching the cold from you and followed suit, deciding to stay with you for a nap as well.

“I always know what my baby needs.”

[namedaftercommunists]

'Meant to be' Daisuke (Mouthwashing) X Reader -OneShot

[Story takes place before Daisuke boards the Tulpa] [Fluff] [Romantic] [Gender Neutral Reader] It’s chilly out, and the menthol cigarettes you’re puffing on only add to it.

Ice fills and drains out your lungs with every inhale and exhale you make, and the smoke you make reeks of tobacco –a scent you hate, but admittedly, find comfort in. It hits your face when the wind picks up.

Now your clothes smell of tobacco.

“Stop that.” A familiar voice half-heartedly scolds before a hand from behind takes the cancer stick away from your mouth before extinguishing it with the heel of his worn Converse. The once-white soles are now yellowish with time and weather exposure.

“I hate when you do that.” You groan out -but your tone lacks venom. “-and I hate when -you- do that.” Daisuke says with a sigh before sitting next to you on the concrete rooftop.

He puts his hands out to you wordlessly, and you take out the small spray of antiseptic alcohol on your pocket to spray some on his hands. He never liked the smell of cigarettes, both of you know his parents would flip if he ever came home smelling like tobacco.

“I can’t help it.” You lazily defend yourself as you pocket the spray back. “It helps me keep my mind off things.” You add, despite Daisuke having heard this excuse time and time again since you started smoking years ago.

He rolls his eyes at this but doesn’t continue his nagging after. He knows you won't ever quit, not even with his constant lecture and reprimands. The best he can do is snuff out the cigarettes you light when you two are together.

“Your dad called.” Daisuke starts, and you already know that your father is calling for your whereabouts. You can only sigh and slump your shoulders at this.

“-and what did you say?” You ask, still looking at the city ‘view’. It’s a dilapidated thing, city walls covered in aging -sunbleached posters and tarpaulins that just get pasted and installed over one another since it was cheaper than taking the previous ones down.

It’s a view both Daisuke and you have watched grow and age while growing up.

“The usual. 'I don’t know’” He says with a shrug. “-and like always, he doesn’t believe me.” He continues.

“I don’t know why he bothers asking me. I give the same answer, you know?” Daisuke says with a chuckle, and you can only return it -the two of you never went a day without laughing together.

“You cave in sometimes.” You say, and he can only sheepishly nod at this. “I do- but that’s only, like, when I don’t ‘actually’ know where you are,” He says before awkwardly tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear to see you better. "Can you blame me for getting worried?" He rhetorically asks, and you're unable to talk back to that. Your nightly escapades are only a cause for concern when Daisuke doesn't know where you are.

“So what’s the matter?” He asks with a tilt of his head, referring to why you are up on the rooftops again. You respond with a shrug, which he sighs at.

“C’mon, what’s wrong?” He asks, leaning on your side and playfully nudging his shoulder on yours to get you to budge. You can only chuckle at his intrinsic nature to act childishly.

“Nothings wrong.” You answer, nudging his shoulder back. “I’m just –thinking about things.” You answer truthfully.

“Things like?” He asks, wanting you to expand on that. “I don’t know -just things in general.” You respond with an unsure shrug.

There’s a short silence between you two, with only the city ambiance filling the space before Daisuke inevitably breaks it.

“Are you moping because I’ll be going on that internship in a few days?” He asks somewhat jokingly with a boyish -teasing grin.

You can only scoff and roll your eyes at this. “Not everything is about you, loser.” You say with your own grin -your mood lightening up a bit.

“So you’re -not- sad about me leaving you for a year?” He asks with a raised brow, nudging your side with his elbow a bit. “I mean --I'm bummed out.” You downplay, making him dramatically pout.

“That’s it? Just bummed out?” He repeats with an unserious frown. “I was expecting, you know, tears in your eyes -or something.”

You let out another scoff at this. “I don't see -you- crying. Why should I when you aren't either.” You point out with a dramatic puff of your chest -making Daisuke laugh.

“You don't know that. Maybe I already cried.” He argues, still chuckling at your matched dramatism.

“Did you?” You ask with a curious brow -a bit taken aback.

“No.” He responds with a Cheshire laugh, and you roll your eyes at this again.

“Thought so.” You jokingly grumble before looking away from him -feigning hurt. He only laughs at this some more.

He takes a few moments to calm down, his laughter fading as his demeanor softens and he leans on your side some more.

“But I am sad,” Daisuke admits, his voice just barely above the sound of the city ambiance below you two.

“…”

You don’t know how to respond to this -looking back at him as he rests his head on your shoulder, leaning down a bit since he's just grown a few inches taller than you over the years.

“Aren't you?” He asks, looking up at you, his hair tickling at the skin of your neck. His voice is soft, and it's one of the few times you've heard him be -this- vulnerable with you.

“I am.” You answer truthfully, your shoulders slumping a bit.

You were sad -from the moment he told you about the internship even. It's a whole year apart without the person you've been joined at the hip with for more than a decade now.

It's terrifying and outright depressing just imagining going a day without seeing, talking, joking, and laughing with him.

-to not share these moments with him.

Your hand snakes its way to his, thumbing the bone of his knuckles, and your skin feels the warmth of his.

Daisuke was always warmer than the average person. It's a welcome contrast to how cold the city air was.

He holds your hand back, squeezing it for a moment.

“I'll think about you, like, all the time.” He says, and you can only snort at this a bit.

“You're corny.” You comment, and he can only childishly pout at this. “I'll think about you too.” You continue, your own voice growing softer as you look into his familiar, warm brown eyes.

“Thanks.” He says with a boyish grin, also looking into your eyes.

There's another comfortable silence between you two before he breaks it again.

“You wanna go buy ramen when I get back?” Daisuke asks, and you snort at this once more, tears pricking at your eyes from laughter as he continues to look at you with endearment.

“You didn't even go to space yet -and you're already making plans for when you get back?” You teasingly ask, and he can only laugh at this.

“Well I'm coming back, aren't I? Like, where would I go if not back here?” He argues back with a grin.

“You've got a point.” You say with a nod -following his logic.

“You gotta pay though -it's the least you could do after leaving me here.” You say, with feigned bitterness for his internship. You don't actually envy him, the thought of being in space already makes you nauseous.

“Fair -fair.” He says with a dramatic nod of understanding -the two of you chuckling right after.

You two calm down a few moments later, still smiling at one another, grinning ear to ear. Daisuke's cheeks were red, and your ears were burning the same color.

“I can't wait for you to get back.” You softly say, squeezing his hand. He mimics the action back.

“I can't wait either.” He says it back with the same softness.

It's funny. The city was far from quiet, and yet it felt as if there wasn't anything in the air other than the sound of both of your breaths. Your faces are just inches off of each other.

You always did find his moles pretty. . . . His cheek feels soft on your lips before you inevitably pull away.

There isn't any shock in Daisuke's expression, nor disgust or confusion. Your kiss on his cheek, just on his left mole, felt natural.

Like you were almost meant to place a kiss on it, to kiss his cheek, to kiss him.

Despite it feeling natural, he couldn’t help the rushing of blood to his cheeks, his face flushed.

A few moments pass before it’s his turn to close the gap, the heat of his breath hitting your cheek before his lips then press themselves against yours.

Like Daisuke, you can’t help the blood rushing to your head, the tips of your ears burning hot.

They’re soft. His lips are soft. As expected from someone who carries around a stick of chapstick in his pocket.

It's a simple peck to the lips, nothing more.

It…doesn’t feel like anything- at least not at first.

You’ve kissed others before, same for Daisuke, and like all others -there was no spark or fireworks in your gut afterward.

No. Instead of the usual burning or butterflies in the stomach that films and books always seem to insist upon -this kiss with Daisuke feels…normal.

Like your lips were always meant to be pressed together like this.

He pulls away after, and the two of you just sit in silence at this, looking into each other’s eyes. You two were neither pulling away nor moving closer.

His lashes are long and pretty, it’s an aspect of his that you’ve noticed early on in your youth.

This feels right -just being next to each other like this. With you eyeing every feature, crevice, and fold in his appearance.

Simply drinking the sight in -as if his face wasn’t something you saw daily for as long as you can remember.

Judging from how he’s looking at you, he may be doing the same.

You’ve both grown and changed over the years, yet, you still look like each other.

Daisuke, even with his taller height, the bit of muscle he’s put on, and the longer hair -still looked like the young Daisuke who ran around the classroom with playdough underneath his fingernails, and who boastfully sported the failed eyebrow slit he gave himself.

“I really like your nose. Did you know that?” He says.

The timing is awkward, and you can hear the slight shakiness in his voice despite his soft tone -like he was nervous. Despite this though, his sincerity comes across -it always does.

Your lips are on his again.

It doesn’t go further than that, but when either of you pant and pull away, the other is quick to join their lips again once they’ve caught their breath.

It’s warm despite the chilly night wind that pricks at both Daisuke's and your skin.

You squeeze his hand.

You can’t wait to spend more moments like these after he gets back.

[drivinmeinsane]

Witness in the Dark

※ Sierra Six x Claire's Older Sister!Reader ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 } ※ { requested fic }

※ Summary: Don't we all just want to feel the companionable reassurance of another human being?

It only takes a single tragedy to tear your life to shreds and make it to where you're unable to sleep through the night. You tell yourself that you will never trust a bodyguard again, but things don't go according to plan when a man with a number for a name is assigned to the Fitzroy household while your uncle is away

※ Rating: T for suggestive themes and canon typical violence.

※ Content/Tags: Slow burn, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Night terrors, Pining, Unspecified age gap, Movie based - Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Obsessive behaviors from both parties, Descriptions of injuries, Mentions of parental death, Mentions of past kidnapping, Mentions of past torture, Implied death of minor character(s)

※ Word count: 12,637

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: I don't know what came over me. This really got uncontrollably out of hand and ended up being wildly self indulgent. Huge thanks for @danime25 for proofreading this. I owe you my life.

"Ladies!" Your sister's nurse calls as she walks into the room. "I want to introduce you to Six. He'll be looking after the house while Mister Donald is away."

You look up from your position next to Claire on her bed only to meet the eyes of the man following the nurse. They're startlingly blue. His face is impassive as he turns away and surveys the room. He carries himself with an easy grace that hints at the violence that his body could produce. He reeks of danger. You instantly don't appreciate his presence. You had fought with Uncle Fitz tooth and nail over hiring a bodyguard for the duration of his trip away from the home. This man’s presence here means you have clearly lost that argument.

"Only the two exits?" He questions, moving past the bed to stand at the ceiling to floor windows. 

"Yeah." Your tone is hard, biting. The nurse gives a small gasp at your rudeness and says your name disapprovingly.

The man, Six, turns away from the window to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You stare at each other silently, sizing the other up. There’s a flicker of some emotion that you might label as respect in his eyes before Claire, picking up on your hostility, throws her hat in the ring.

"We don't chew gum in this house." You've never loved your little sister's faux-snob act more than in this moment. She snaps a photo of him with her Polaroid, staged records forgotten. He doesn't look particularly pleased about it. It’s more exasperated acceptance than anger though.

He's silent for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry. I wasn't briefed." 

There’s a trace of a smile on his face. It’s irritating and you have to look away from him. You stare at a record sleeve like your life depends on it. He asks for the photo and picks it up. You see a flash of a tattoo on his hand as he plucks the Polaroid off of the bedspread. Poorly done and worn with age. He’s definitely one of Uncle Fitz’s prison recruits then. One of the most morally dubious options he could have saddled you with in his absence. Perfect.

He says his goodbyes to you and Claire before leaving the room. Your heart is beating irrationally rapidly and your mouth is dry. The man with a number for a name is stirring up nothing but bad memories. You know you won’t sleep well tonight. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“What kind of name is Six anyway?” Claire asks first thing in the morning after she tosses herself into a chair at the kitchen table. The man in question gives her a long look. 

"007 was already taken so…" He says with a relaxed shrug, coffee mug in hand. He's leaning against the kitchen counter in the same suit as yesterday.

You choke back a laugh at the sight of your sister's expression. You accidentally meet Six's eyes over her head. There's warmth in them that douses your amusement immediately. You sober up and turn back to your breakfast. Softness in someone doing his line of work felt… wrong. He isn't trustworthy, you decide, no matter how kind he acts. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You wake up with a start. The coppery tang of blood mixed with the dry powder of concrete lingers in your subconscious. It takes several heaving breaths to clear your airway and bring you back to the present. You shakily sit up. You press your palms into your eyes. You try to forget the sensation of a knife in your skin. You're here. You're safe . You're one of the last people your sister has. You're the stable one.

You get to your feet in the dark bedroom and open your door to step out into the hall. You trail unsteady fingertips down the plaster and paint as you make your way to the kitchen and living area. 

There's a barely audible scuffle and you peer through the gloom to see Six stalking you. You catch the barest glimpse of his face in a strip of moonlight. It's intent. Predatory. There's no hint of recognition, not while you move through the darkest parts of the room.

You feel cold. Your pulse starts to hammer in your veins. Your throat works uselessly. Words won't come out of your mouth. You forge along to the kitchen and fumble for the light. The kitchen is awash in a blinding glow right as you feel heat against your back. It immediately withdraws as the bodyguard removes himself from your personal space. You don't turn to face him while you get a glass from the cupboard and fill it with ice and water at the fridge's dispenser. You stare blankly at the burnished steel while you take sip after sip.

You refill your glass. You blink. You take a drink. You pretend like your mind isn't shattered. You pretend like the man your uncle hired hadn't been about to…

"Are you alright?" Six's voice cuts through the fog in your mind. It's like a lantern has been lit to guide you back into the waking world.

You find yourself then and turn to look at him. You study him. He looks slightly rumpled and tired. There's tension around his eyes and his mouth is set in an almost apologetic frown. 

"Just another nightmare. Sorry for disturbing you."

The frown deepens. "You didn't. I was caught by surprise, that's all."

"Fair warning, me out here like this is probably going to be a regular occurrence." You smile wanly. "I know you want us in bed, but I don't do the whole staying put thing so well most nights."

He just nods. He's accepted your words without protest. The frown fades away.

You gesture with your glass in the vague direction of your bedroom. "I'm going to go ahead and excuse myself. Goodnight, Six."

"Goodnight." 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Weeks go by. The household falls into a comfortable enough routine. Claire ribs him good-naturedly every chance she gets. He's always got a faint aura of amusement every time she takes a shot at him. You hadn't yet seen him get angry. Pretending to be annoyed? Yes, but never actually expressing any negative emotion beyond mild exasperation. Not yet, anyway. 

He sends the both of you to bed every night after Claire's nurse takes her leave. You inevitably get up in the middle of the night after another vivid nightmare. Six is always either watching the camera footage or doing his rounds. He's stopped being surprised by your presence after the night he hunted you. You linger in the kitchen doorway night after night, watching him keep vigil. He's got a soft face, you've decided. There's tension there, likely from worry and lack of sleep, but not cruelty. You've begun to wonder if he has the capability for it. You know he must. Uncle Fitz has kept you in the dark about a lot of the work he does, but you know a kind man wouldn’t have been a candidate for whatever program your uncle runs. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You're woken up a few nights later by the sound of hands scrabbling on your door. Your eyes snap open and you remain frozen for a second before you hear Claire's muffled voice. You're immediately out of bed so fast you stumble and twist your ankle painfully. You fling the door open and next thing you know, your little sister falls wheezing into your arms. "Something's… Something's wrong." She gasps out.

She can't breathe and is clutching at her chest with weak hands. Horror races down your back and you're pulling her into your arms in a clumsy embrace, desperately trying to keep her upright.

"Six!" The name is torn from you in a shout. You never thought you would be screaming for a man you'd told yourself you couldn't trust.

He's there in an instant. He puts a steadying hand on your back before he gently pulls Claire away and lifts her up into his arms. She wheezes again and both you and Six freeze.

"I'm okay." she whispers. She looks so small and breakable in the bodyguard's thick arms. Like a bird plucked from the sky, held the mercy of a giant's hands.

"Can you get the keys for the car and unlock it?" His voice washes over you. Its steadiness anchors you to reality. You manage a "Yeah." and take off through the house to the garage, making a pit-stop to snag the keys from their bowl. Your ankle is throbbing. Six is close behind, his brisk stride and long legs keeping time with your hurried scrambling. You mash the unlock button on the fob and throw yourself into the backseat. Claire is gently deposited in after you. Her head is resting on your lap. You comb through her brown hair with shaky hands. 

"Mount St. Mary's." You tell Six the moment he's halfway into the driver's seat. "They're the ones who put her pacemaker in."

He grunts in response, backing out of the garage. You don't remember when you handed him the keys or when the garage door was opened. You don't think about anything other than your little sister. You can't lose her too. You've already lost so much of your family and of yourself. The ride passes in a blur. You're only fleetingly aware of the passing lights. Your heart is hammering in your chest like it's beating for Claire and you both. You whisper pleas and promises to her, stroking her forehead with shaking hands.

You're pulled out of your trance by Six yanking the passenger door open, and you help guide your sister into his capable arms. The medical team whisks Claire into the back immediately the moment he has her on the stretcher. You're left in a stiff, vinyl chair in the waiting room. Bodies haven't been in it long enough to soften the material. You're filling out intake paperwork on your sister's behalf. Six stands next to you, hands clasped in front of himself. You glance over, checking his watch every few seconds, your leg bouncing in place. Nervousness and fear wash over you in all-consuming waves. 

He catches your glance as your eyes dart over yet again.

"You holding up alright?'' His questions surprise you. He rarely is the one to initiate conversations. His gaze is steady, grounding, blue eyes watching you intently.

"Not really." You admit, inhaling and exhaling jaggedly. He nods. There's tension around his eyes. Is he worried too? You have to look away from his face and instead talk to his watch. "She's my sister. I need to keep her safe. I can't lose her too."

You hear him make a noise in response. You watch the seconds tick by one by one on his watch. The two of you are silent for approximately thirty-seven of them before Six breaks the moment by undoing the metal clasp. He pulls the watch away from his skin, revealing a bar of ink across the underside of his surprisingly delicate wrist before he's handing it to you.

"Here."

You stare at the dangling watch blankly before looking up at his face. "What?"

"Keep it safe for me for a while." His tone leaves no room for argument. You reach out with hesitant fingers and take it from his grasp. The steel is warm in your hand. You swallow thickly and drape the watch over your wrist, waiting for the sickening feeling of having your hands bound to hit you. It doesn't. You clumsily latch the buckle. It's sized perfectly for the man diligently standing at your side, no possibility of tightening it without it being resized altogether. It hangs off your wrist like a loose bracelet and you realize then just how big Six is. 

He hides his mass well. His muscles are concealed discretely enough underneath blazers and tailored trousers. He simply doesn't take up space in whatever room he's in, always the expert at being unremarkable, unobtrusive, and not worth remembering. But this… this is a dead giveaway. You cast a sideways glance at his hands and, for a dizzying moment, you wonder how your hand would look pressed palm to palm with one of his.

"Miss Fitzroy. Your sister is cleared for visitors now if you would like to see her." A nurse's voice cuts into your illogical musings.

You stand up so abruptly that the chair you were just sitting on screeches agonizingly loud on the polished vinyl flooring before it thuds into the wall. The nurse flinches slightly, but Six is steady at your side. He falls into step behind you as you follow the man through the winding hallways to Claire.

The doctor stops you at the door, arm barring you for a moment before letting it drop. "She's stabilized. Tell your uncle there was a programming glitch. We were able to repair it. Non-invasive." She pauses for a moment, giving the man hovering behind you a hard look before continuing. "The remote system flagged it ten minutes before he pulled up."

"You're able to monitor from that distance?" You interrupt. 

"We can keep track of her pacemaker from just about anywhere. You may see her. She can be released later tonight after we have her under observation for a while longer.” The doctor catches your pinched expression and adds. “Just to be safe.”

You nod, gaze bypassing her to focus on Claire. She’s been watching the exchange and, at your attention, she pulls a weak smile under her oxygen mask while raising a pale hand to flash the rocker sign. The doctor finally steps aside but not before blocking Six as he makes to follow you into the room. “Only family allowed.”

You look at her incredulously and open your mouth to protest before Six cuts you off. “I understand. Thank you, Doctor.” His tone is bland, unemotional. He arranges himself to stand with his back to the inside of the open door. He’s obnoxiously in the way of anyone that would need to come or go. He spends the passing minutes as they bleed into hours standing there like a steadfast sentinel. Back straight, hand clasped over his right wrist, left wrist startlingly bare, head lowered in waiting supplication; he’s the very image of patient servitude.

You sit at your sister's side in your own vigil. The three of you wait in tired silence until a nurse finally announces Claire is free to be discharged. 

She fusses as she's helped into a wheelchair. You and Six stand aside, letting the staff fight the battle. They win, but as soon as everyone spills out of the automatic doors, she's pulling herself out of the mobility aid. She gently slaps away yours and Six's reaching hands when the two of you try to steady her. "Don't you dare."

"But-" you start to protest before you're immediately shut down. "I can walk to the car. I'm not that much of an invalid."

Six doesn't even try to say anything, just forges ahead through the parking lot like nothing happened. He's learned by now that there's no arguing with your little sister. The traitor. You and Claire make it to the vehicle after him and you move to slide into the back seat with her but she pulls a face.

"You're smothering meeeee." she exaggeratedly whines. You give her a flat look. "Smothered." she insists. She dramatically points at the front of the car and raises insistent eyebrows.

You end up buckling yourself into the front passenger seat with an exasperated sigh. You look over at Six. The tension has bled away from his face. He looks more relaxed, relieved even. He notices your stare and the two of you make eye contact. You roll your eyes pointedly at your sister’s antics. Six maintains a serious expression until it cracks and you’re rewarded with the bodyguard's smile.

Six's arm brushes ever so slightly against yours when he puts the vehicle into reverse and then into drive. The feeling of his warmth lingers like a brand on your skin. His watch hangs heavily around your wrist. You fight the urge to gently touch the gleaming metal and instead interlink your own fingers together hard enough to hurt.  

You spend the car ride sagged against the leather of the passenger seat, desperately trying to focus on the passing scenery and not the man seated next to you. Not his kindness, not the way he had kept you grounded. You tell yourself he was just doing his job. Any bodyguard would have been tender and careful with your sister…  and with you. You try to not read into what Six offering his watch to you for "safe keeping" might possibly mean.

Soon you're back at the house, waiting in the garage with your little sister while the hired man does a sweep of the building to make sure no one has breached the perimeter while it lay vacant. Claire is tucked against your side. She's bleary eyed with exhaustion. 

"Clear." Six's voice cuts into the silence of the garage.

You tow Claire along with you and sit her down at the table. She slumps with her cheek resting in her hand. You busy yourself with getting a bowl of ice cream set in front of her.

She gulps it down in huge mouthfuls. Six sits to your right at the head of the table while she eats. His eyes are focused on the screen of his laptop. You're sitting across from your sister, half curled up in the dining chair. The adrenaline has long since left your body, leaving you feeling heavy with exhaustion.

"You feeling better?" Six directs at Claire.

"Just another Thursday." She says with a shrug. "Uncle Donald and my sister say this is the best medicine. Ice cream. I tend to agree."

"They're smart people."

"Only family I got." 

Six’s response is instant, like he’ll choke on the words if he doesn’t get them out of his mouth fast enough. “Fitz’s the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long while.”

"Maybe that kind of makes us family." 

You catch the way that he smiles. He ducks his head to hide it, but you see the hopeless spread of it across his face. There’s something so tender and vulnerable in his eyes that you get stung by a pang in your chest. Your heart aches for the people sitting at the table with you. Claire for carrying the loss of your parents and Six for whose closest hint of a familial tie is his boss. You get pulled out of your spiraling thoughts by Claire yawning. 

"You should go to bed." His voice is soft.

You haul yourself to your feet, exhausting hanging on you like a blanket. You whisk Claire’s empty bowl away and gently touch her shoulder. “C’mon, you heard the man.” 

She grumbles a little and stands up with you. You’re about to guide her to her bedroom but she pauses and turns. “‘Night, Robot.”

“Goodnight, Claire.” He sounds exasperated with an undercurrent of amusement.

He doesn’t look away from the screen as you and your younger sister retire for the night. You fall into bed, wrung out from the hospital trip. It’s not until you’re firmly under the covers and settled into bed that you realize you’re still wearing Six’s watch. You stare at it, warring with yourself on if you should scrape yourself off of the mattress to go give it to the bodyguard keeping vigil at the table or to just set it aside to give to him in the morning. You do neither of those things. You fall asleep watching the silver metal reflect the moonlight peering through the shivering curtains. You do not dream of your past captors and their leering smiles that night. Instead, you dream of a comforting hand on your wrist, the gentle hum of a deep voice. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

The three of you settle back into routine following Claire’s hospital visit, but things have shifted slightly following that night. You gave Six his watch back the following morning before your sister got out of bed and before her nurse arrived for the day. He took it from your hesitantly offered hand. His thick fingers gently brushed your palm as he lifted the piece from it. Your wrist has felt desolate, too light ever since you took it off. You try to ignore it all, try to regain the distance you had before. You don’t succeed. Something about Uncle Fitz’s hired man keeps eroding the walls built from mistrust and agony. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You snap awake, soaked through with rapidly cooling sweat. You’re certain you didn’t scream out. Your throat isn’t sore, but your face is wet, moisture clinging to your lashes. You must have been silently sobbing through your nightmare. You uncurl yourself from your tensed position and drag yourself out of bed. You walk through the darkened hallway to the kitchen. You make sure to roughly trail your hand along the wall and clear your throat. It won’t do anyone any favors to startle Six. 

You get your glass of water and make your way into the main sprawl of rooms. The bodyguard is sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open, as he is most nights. You pull out a chair and sit down with your glass. You look at it hollowly, trying to ignore the lingering terror from your nightmares. You can't but notice Six’s eyes flickering over to you now and again. There’s a concerned crease between his eyebrows.

“Rough night?”

“The usual. As Claire says, it’s just another Thursday.” Your voice comes out more bitter than you intend. You tighten your grip on your cup until it feels like it might shatter in your hand. You force yourself to loosen your clenched fingers. 

The man seated at the table with you gives an acknowledging hum, sedately chewing his gum. He doesn’t press, doesn’t try to force any explanations out of you. You relax a little in your seat. Having another human being awake and nearby is a comfort. You rest your cheek on your hand and observe him. He looks tired. The light coming from the screen serves only to highlight the weariness weighing down his face and stooping his usually rigid shoulders. Looking at him like this reminds you of the night you watched this man and your sister interact after he drove you both home from Mount St. Mary’s. 

“She’s happier with you around, you know.”

There's such a long silence following your unprompted comment that you don't think he'll respond but he finally does. "She's a good kid."

"Yeah. Yeah she is." You don’t think you could have clung to life in the wake of the incident without her there to be strong for. Most weeks, she was the only reason you bothered to try to function.

You drain the rest of your glass and stand up. The ice clinks. You dump it in the sink and put the cup in the top rack of the dishwasher. You felt wrung out enough to attempt sleep again. You pause in the doorway and look back at the man at the table. "Six."

He looks up, eyebrow raised. His lips are slightly parted. 

"'Night."

"Goodnight." You can’t decipher his tone.

Your nightmares don’t return that night. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

About a month later, you’re screaming and thrashing in your bed. You’re choking under your captor’s hands, the sensation of soaked cloth over your face. You feel the pressure of those cruel fingers on your throat, over your mouth. Water moistening every ragged inhale. You can’t breathe.

Six’s response is all but instantaneous from the moment he hears your first scream. He pushes your door open, one hand on the knob and the other wrapped around his drawn gun. He’s sweeping his eyes across the dark room, There’s no attacker to find, there’s only you writhing on your bed, plagued by your own mind. He holsters his weapon and goes to your side. He tries calling your name, but there’s no acknowledgement, only your panicked wheezing. He puts one knee on the mattress for stability and grabs your upper arms. He tries to shake you awake. That gets a reaction. You start fighting him. Your hands claw and hit at him. He ignores it and repeats your name, asking you to wake up with an edge of desperation to his voice. He’s wildly unprepared for this. A physical enemy he can handle, but this…

You come out of it, going limp in his hold. Your chest is heaving. You blink away the lingering horrors of your dream and look up at him, horrified. For a split second your panic flares anew until you focus on his face. You remind yourself that you know this man, that you trust him with your sister’s life. He releases his grip on you and leans to turn on your bedside lamp. You wince against the explosion of light before bolting upright to reach towards his face. He’s scratched and you wonder if he’s going to be sporting a black eye. He lets your fingertips rest on his cheek for a heartbeat, something unreadable in his eyes before he’s withdrawing his knee from the mattress and standing at the side of your bed. He’s the picture of composure.

“I’m so sorry.” Guilt is suffocating you almost as much as the man in your nightmare. 

"You don't need to apologize. I should. I wasn't briefed about how to handle it." He sounds genuinely sorry, a touch of distress bleeding into his tone. It twists the knife of guilt deeper. You feel your eyes start to well. 

"No, no it's not your fault.. I don't want to be like this, I'm sorry." The tears spill over. You turn your face away and scrub your hands over your cheeks.

He hesitates and sits down on the bed next to you. There's a yawning span of distance between the two of you. There's not a hint of anger or frustration coming from him, not even pity. just.... sorrow. Understanding.

"Fitz briefed me on your history." It's blunt. matter of fact.

"Then you know about the...." You hesitate. 

"Yeah.” He answers before continuing. “Does he know how bad it gets?"

"No… I never told him all the details. I didn't want to burden him. He's got enough to worry about." You shrink into yourself. Your eyes focused on the items cluttering your nightstand.

"Your wellbeing isn't a burden." There it is. There’s a taste of the anger you’d been waiting for in his tone. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"I'm the stable one, Six. I can't let everyone down again ." You laugh a little, self-deprecating. You press your palms against your eyes. Baring down until stars explode behind your closed eyelids. 

He hums, and you feel the shift of the mattress as he stands up. You think he’s leaving, disgusted with you and your emotions, but the heat of his presence doesn’t go away. The warmth of him bleeds through your sleep clothes. You can feel him looking down at you. You nearly jump out of your skin when he nudges your arm. You look up at him, startled. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Come on.” He says, offering his hand to you. You take it. He easily guides you up onto shaky legs.

He has you follow him down the hallway and to the dining table. A path as familiar as an old friend by now. He motions for you to sit at the table, and you mutely follow his direction. You hear him move around in the kitchen. He returns with a bowl of ice cream and a full glass of water. He sits both in front of you.

"I have it on expert authority that this should help. All the smartest people I know support it." He's so serious sounding. You look at him flatly. He holds his grave expression for a beat before he winks. You crack a teary smile and lay into the ice cream like it personally insulted you.

He settles into a chair across from you while you eat. He occasionally glances over at the open laptop’s screen to check the security footage, but his main focus is on you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze. You scour your mind for something to say, anything to lessen the intensity he’s directing towards you.

"Do you ever sleep? Like… go to bed sleep?" The question comes out of nowhere. a flash of surprise crosses his face. You'd seen him cross his arms in his chair and tip his head back. Caught him leaning  against the wall, hands in his pockets, hip cocked for stability. But the thought of him actually dressing down into pajamas and tucking himself under the blankets  seems.... implausible. too soft for this man who is alert and buttoned up into his crisp slacks and fitted shirts no matter the hour of the day. You half supposed he showered in the damn things.

"Not as often as I should. I don't sleep easy either." The honesty surprises you. 

"Why?" It's probing but you're too exhausted and raw to care.

"Too many memories. My line of work isn't exactly conducive to pleasant dreams." You wonder if he would have been willing to be so open this entire time or if something changed between the two of you. When would it have changed? Were the moments you found significant also important to him? Was he starting to crave your company in the inexplicable way as you’ve begun to crave his?

You almost apologize to him for prying, but you stop yourself. You nod instead. You understand how it is to have a beast pacing the maze of your sleeping mind, pulling out the threads of your worst memories like entrails for you to witness over and over again. 

"I still think about it… About them." You admit. Your eyes skitter across the table like a frightened mouse, focusing on Six's watch face before darting away. You can’t tell the time from this distance. There is a pressure welling up in your throat. Something is clawing its way out into the open.

“Talk to me.” His request is firm, paving the way for your words. He takes his watch off, a mirror of the other night. It slips free of his arm in the same way, inky black revealed on the underside of his wrist, tendons shifting, the movements delicate. He sets the watch on the table in front of you. The metal links clatter on the polished wood surface. You glance up at his face, shadowed in the dim light. “For safekeeping.” He remarks.

You reach out and lift it from the worn surface, running your fingers over the band. The weight is soothing in your grasp. The seconds tick by and it feels as though your heart is trying to race them. You finally open your mouth and release your burden.

“Claire had her birthday party that day. It was the last good day we had with our parents. It was hard to keep the security straight since there were so many people in the house. I didn’t think anything was wrong when two men came up to me and introduced them as part of the security detail. I still didn’t think it was weird when they asked me to come with them. How could I have been so stupid ?” Your breath catches, anger palpable in your voice. Six twitches like he might reach out, but he stills and you continue.

“They got me out of the house. I wasn’t strong enough to fight them off when they put me in the back of the SUV. They… they kept me for days asking questions I didn’t know the answers to. They didn’t like that I didn’t know anything. They tried to be more persuasive… so I started making up things. I just wanted them to stop but they wouldn’t. The wrong answer or the right answer, it didn’t matter. They offered me in exchange for a ransom and eventually they pulled me out of the basement. My parents were there to do the handoff. The guys wouldn’t let anyone else do it. We made it about three miles down the highway before they caught up with us and shot out the front tires. I don’t think they expected anyone to live after we went through the guardrail, so they just.. drove off. Left. I don’t know how long I was in the car staring at my parents. Claire was too young to understand that I ruined her life. I’ve been waiting for her to realize what I did. She hasn’t yet but she will.”

“How did you ruin it?” Quiet, disbelieving.

“I got our parents killed. I shouldn’t have gone with those men. I should’ve known better.” You hear a noise like a wounded animal. A creature left for roadkill, great heaving breaths rattling in that damaged chest. It’s you, you realize dully, you’re the animal. There’s a large hand enveloping your wrist. It’s Six and he’s holding onto you. 

“How could you know?” He asks. You shake your head, a sob escapes you. You feel shame. Grief. Six’s hand squeezes almost tight enough to hurt. It grounds you, you can’t escape into your own mind. Not with that insistent pressure to stay . You feel the metal of his watch biting into the skin of your palm. It’s a good kind of ache.

“It wasn’t your fault. You trusted people you were meant to trust. Who could blame you for that?” he insists. His eyes are too soft, too kind.

“Uncle Fitz.” It slips out, involuntary. You would bite your own tongue off if it could take back the betrayal. You don’t dare to look at the man seated across from you. You had all but swung a bat at the person who he said was the closest thing he had to family. 

His hand withdraws from your arm, and for a moment you’re certain that he’s going to walk off and leave you sitting here by yourself. He doesn’t, he surprises you once again. He simply leans further over the table, capturing your hands with his before plucking his watch from your ironclad grasp. He lays it over your much smaller wrist. He handles you with so much gentleness it almost hurts. He secures the clasp and simply… holds your hands. He says your name and you look up 

“Your family loves you.” He states simply. He says it like it’s an indisputable fact. Like it’s something as true and honest as the rotation of the Earth. You nod mutely. You can’t argue, not when he says it with so much assurance. He gives your hands a final, comforting squeeze and stands up. He gathers up your dishes, bowl, spoon, and glass. The bodyguard makes a soothing gesture to stay seated when you make a motion to rise and help him. You listen to the domestic sounds of him running the sink and loading your used dishes into the dishwasher. Your eyes start to drift shut. There’s a weight off your lungs, your burden has been dispersed, even just for a little while.

There’s a soft touch to your shoulder. It’s Six and he wants you back in bed. You get to your feet and let him escort you to your bedroom door. You feel oddly nervous, fidgeting with your fingers and avoiding meeting the hired man’s eyes. It feels like the awkward end of a weird date where everyone was too uncomfortably honest.. No matter how delusional that sounds even to yourself.

“Goodnight.” he’s the one who breaks the silence first. You feel relieved. 

“‘Night, Six.” is your response as you put your hand on the doorknob and slip into the room, away from his unreadable gaze. When you fall asleep for the second time that night, you dream of steady hands marked with prison tattoos.

───※ ·❆· ※───

The morning dawns without preamble. It feels like you have barely laid your head on the pillow. You check the time on the watch hanging loosely around your wrist. Less than four hours have passed since your night terror and subsequent comforting via the household bodyguard. Your morning routine feels more laborious than usual. Every movement feels like crawling through tilled soil. 

You’re dressed for the day and walking into the kitchen when you hear your little sister badgering Six. 

“What happened to you, Robot?” she asks.

You pop your head around the corner to take a look at the man she’s addressing. You stop cold. It’s a mess. He’s a mess. The skin around his left eye is puffy and bruised. There's clear nail marks on his cheeks and down to his neck. Any exposed skin had taken the brunt of your panic. You can even see some redness through his facial hair. You feel sick, betrayed again by your body. Your own hands had tried to tear him apart. 

"Well..." he starts and shrugs his jacket off. He folds it and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs.

He's about to go on his outdoor rounds, which you and Claire have secretly dubbed ‘enrichment time’, and continue wearing a trail into the yard. If he’s feeling particularly comfortable, he might sneak a nap in one of the lawn chairs now that the sun is up. Provided that he’s sure the two of you are secure and can survive without him awake for an hour or so. 

"Your sister beat me in a fight. I'll have to hand in my championship belt." It's relaxed and easy. He gives you a conspiratorial wink when Claire rolls her eyes with a scoff.

You match his earnest tone with your own. "You should have seen it, I was about to get the folding chair and everything."

“Ooh-kay, I’ll just assume it was a weird sex thing,” she comments, turning back to her breakfast. “Looks like you already won his watch though. Congrats.” 

Silence follows. Claire smugly scrapes her spoon around in her bowl, capturing every last shred of cereal. There’s a self-satisfied smile on her face. Neither of you protest. Either you let it go and hope she loses interest in the bit, or you launch into a defense that will only get her to double down. No matter what, you’ll be the losers. 

Six pushes a heavy exhale through his nose and walks out of the room. You follow him right out the back door and onto the deck. The two of you stand there for a moment in companionable silence. It’s beautiful out here. The sun is a sedate creature in the sky. She's lazily casting her rays over the yard. The water in the pool is sparkling in it, lapping playfully at the concrete walls. Six’s shoulders are still tense in your field of view. He looks as though he’s holding himself up through sheer force of will.

“I’m sorry again about last night.” You say to his back.

“Please don’t be. Things happen.” He says with a sigh. You falter. He sounds as exhausted as you feel.  You don't want to push the issue. 

He gestures for you to sit in one of the deck chairs by the pool. You don’t, instead choosing to trail him as he does his rounds. He’s lit by the sun. You’re in his shadow. His hair looks like a field of golden wheat. You almost want to run your hands though it in order to feel the softness for yourself. You instead soothe the urge by toying with the band of his watch still loosely encircling your wrist. He looks back at you every once in a while, eyes dazzlingly blue in the bright sunlight. You had never noticed the angles of his face before, the curves of his nose with its distinctive bump, the set of his cheekbones, how his facial hair is darker than the hair on his head. You hate that you're noticing these details now. After the events of last night, any tentative bond feels tainted.

The morning grows warmer as you drift behind him like a ghost. Eventually he rolls his sleeves up to reveal his forearms. You start to understand why people in bygone eras got so flustered at the sight of a lady's ankle. His wrists are bodice ripping enough, you suppose, but the space from his fingertips to the crook of his elbow? That is home to so much previously unseen skin. Had he been rolling up his sleeves every morning? If you had simply looked out one of the windows, would you have seen the sight that you’re witnessing now?  Would you have seen the distinct veins trailing up the insides of his muscular arms? What about the tattoos whose mere existence beg to have a finger trace along his skin? You avert your eyes, not wanting him to notice you staring. You tell yourself that it’s just the novelty of it all, that the surprise at seeing him less buttoned up will wear off.

With the rounds done, the two of you are back at your starting point. The bodyguard settles onto one of the deck chairs. He lets out a borderline obscene groan as he lets his body relax against the wood. His eyes flutter closed. He shifts slightly, another noise escapes his throat as he does. You make your way to the chair next to him on shaky legs, and drop into it. He doesn’t stir. You debate on standing up, you don’t, the thought of leaving his side makes you anxious. You make yourself comfortable in your seat. 

Through the open window, you can hear Claire’s record player. You hear the notes of Feel the Warm. She’s playing Mark Lindsay again. You let it wash over you. The sunlight is dappled across this part of the patio. You cast a glance over at your companion. His arms are crossed and he looks dead to the world. Your own eyelids are drooping, He’s the last thing you see before you drift off.

You wake up gradually, it’s an easy kind of waking. No wild jerk of consciousness, just the soft trickle of awareness. You’ve managed to curl on your side in the deck chair. You squirm upright and feel cloth slide down into your lap. It’s the hired man’s jacket. He must have gone back inside to get it. You touch it with hesitant fingers and look up, scanning for him. He’s currently out of sight, but you do see Claire in the hammock chair across the way. She’s engrossed in her phone and frantically tapping at the screen. You check the time on the watch in your possession before you catch a glimpse of Six coming up the patio steps from the lower yard. He’s got a sandwich in one hand and his own phone in the other. He’s intent on the device. He glances up and accidentally meets your eyes. He jumps slightly as if startled you’re awake. He recovers and gives you a nod.

“‘Morning.” His mouth is full. You know Claire will give him the tongue lashing of a lifetime if she notices.

"It's after twelve." You playfully retort, watching unimpressed as he fights to swallow the bread in his mouth. He’s really struggling for a second before he gets it down, his throat working roughly. You get to your feet, carefully folding his jacket over your arm. You approach him with it. 

"Good afternoon then." He says quietly. You swear you catch the ghost of a smile on his face as he looks at you. 

“Thanks for the blanket.” You say, offering it to him. He takes it with his unoccupied hand before shrugging it on, doing a quick change of hands with his lunch. 

You move to take off the watch and return that as well, but he stops you with a disapproving noise. “You’re keeping that safe for me, remember?”

You pause for a moment, mind racing wildly with the effort to make sense of his words. To find meaning in them. Your hand falls away from the metal and you surrender with a mute nod. If he wanted you to keep it for him for a while longer, who were you to protest? It’s a strange kind of comfort to have it. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Things come to another disastrous head some weeks later. It happens after the nurse sees Claire tucked into bed before heading home for the evening. It happens after you give your sister your own goodnight wishes. You had gently brushed her hair from her face and gave her a kiss on the forehead even if she scrunches her face in mock disgust each time you do. There’s no telling which moment between the two of you will be the last. You hadn’t had the luxury of knowing that your mom’s wet pleas for help would be the last gift from her in that twisted hunk of metal. You wanted your little sister to have a happy memory of you if a goodnight ever turned into a goodbye. Less nightmares that way.

You had stood up from your seat on the edge of the bed, made sure to smooth her blanket out. “Sweet dreams, Claire.” you said before you extinguished the slow glow cast by the lamp on her nightstand. 

“‘Night,” she had said to you before yelling. “‘Night, Robot!” in the direction of the door. 

You heard a weary sounding response from the ‘robot’ in question. Six was hovering in the hallway, patiently waiting to escort you to your bedroom door. He’s been diligent in performing the action every single night without fail since your impromptu wrestling session with him. He also hasn’t let you return his watch to him yet. You closed the bedroom door behind you, stepped into the hall and nearly brushed against the tall man. He moved back only enough to give you the barest clearance to get past him so he could trail after you for the scant few steps to your own door. It seems lately that he’s been standing closer to you. It also seems like his eyes have been lingering more on your face than the surveillance feeds at night when you emerge from your room, wide eyed and shaken from whatever terror that had gripped you. Your exchanged goodnights haven’t been anything out of the ordinary though, even if his voice was lower… more intimate than it used to be.

The bubble officially bursts for you when you abruptly jerk awake. You assume it was a nightmare you can’t remember, though you don’t feel any of the usual symptoms. There’s no tremors or wild breathing. You’re just… awake. You think about laying in bed and trying to drift off, but there’s a sense of unease you can’t shake. You make up your mind and shuffle over to the door. Like any other night, you turn the knob and walk out into the hall.

Like a snare snatching a rabbit, rough hands seize you. Your mouth is covered, fingers digging in harshly. And with a sudden drop of your stomach, you register the sensation of a gun pressing into your side. The metal’s coldness burrows though the thin layer of your sleep shirt. You’re frozen in shock, mind racing. Where's Six? Where's the bodyguard uncle Fitz had hired? He was supposed to protect you and your sister. Keep you safe. Why wasn't he doing his job? Why was this man in the house? 

Tears start running down your face without your permission. Your sobs are broken off against the inside of your mouth. They can’t escape the crushing pressure. A scream you can’t release is building in your throat. What if this man did something to Claire?

The gun digs in deeper, grinding against your ribs. He drags you down the hall and into the living room. It’s dark and you flinch as you feel something sharp dig into one of your feet. You whimper. The floor is littered with broken glass. The sound of it shattering must have been what woke you up. 

“Shut up.” the man holding you hisses, giving you a tooth rattling shake while he leans over your shoulder to see where he’s steering you. His breath is sour. “Where is he?”  He must mean Six. 

The bodyguard must still be able to present a problem if this man is asking about him. You’re not completely alone in this. It’s enough to sharpen your mind. To direct your focus. Your eyes are straining to make out anything in the darkness. It’s a mess of shapes that are so familiar in the daylight, but they look like strangers in the darkness. You manage to recognize the coffee table before the attacker does and you pull your leg out of the way. He slams into it and stumbles. He curses loudly through the pain of hitting his shin on the corner. You see your opportunity and savagely bite the hand covering your mouth. The saltiness of blood washes over your tongue but you bury your teeth in deeper. The tendons and nerves give way beneath your teeth. You go until you hit bone and hang on. Even if you don’t make out of this alive, you’re going to make damn sure this fucker doesn’t get to keep full use of his fingers.

He’s groaning, blinded by the shock of pain. You dare to release your hold on him in order to slam the back of your head into his face as hard as you can, throwing yourself into a backwards jump to do so. He lets out a wounded noise and clutches his face. He’s completely let go of you to do so. The gun is on the floor now, dropped in the surprise of your retaliation. You skate awkwardly on the glass as you make a run for it. The floor feels wet under your feet as you sprint for the hall. You’re leaving a trail of bloody footprints in your wake. The scream you’ve felt building weakly escapes. It’s a too quiet utterance of Six’s name. You can’t find the ability to yell as loud as you need to. You’re nearly sightless from a lack of light and terrified tears. You’re battering against the walls and furniture like a moth around a lightbulb. You make it halfway down the hall to Claire’s bedroom when you feel it. A brush of the assailant’s hand against your back. He shouts when he misses you, and you jitter to the side, making contact with the wall right as he slams into the floor. You put your back to it and look down, eyes wide enough in terror to make out the shapes of two struggling men. 

Six is on top of the man who had grabbed you. His silhouette is identifiable even in the murky dark. Relief turns your legs into jelly. He’s come for you after all. You allow yourself to go limp and slide down the wall, curling up on the floor. You squeeze your eyes closed so you don’t have to put a visual to the violence you’re hearing. It’s wet, crunchy. Eventually you only hear the heaving breathing of one man. You don’t know how long you sit there shaking. 

You’re coaxed into opening your eyes by Six’s voice saying your name. Your bedroom door is ajar and the light is on, illuminating the hallway enough to comfortably see, but not enough to where you can’t pretend the dark smears and streaks are shadows. The attacker isn’t in the hall any more. Six is kneeling in front of you. He’s got a cut on his cheek but otherwise looks unharmed.

“Are you with me?” It’s said with aching concern.

"Yeah… Yeah I'm here." You’re all too aware of your stinging feet, the ache of your muscles, the pain in the back of your head. 

Relief floods his face at your words. He reaches out but stops himself before making contact with you. You notice that his knuckles are split open and already bruising. His hand hovers in the space between your bodies, trembling slightly like he can’t bear to touch you but withdrawing is equally torturous. You rock onto your knees and shove yourself into his arms instead. They’re instantly around you. He holds you to himself. It’s all you can do to cling to him in kind. If you could nestle alongside the lungs in his chest, you would make a home in his rib cage. 

"You did well. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep him from you. His pals kept me busy." His voice is full of bitter frustration. 

You shake your head and speak against his collarbone. “Is Claire okay?”

"She slept right through it. She's still asleep. I just checked on her." He soothes, running a hand up and down your back.

“Good…” you respond, unspeakably thankful. You could cry.

“Do I have your permission to pick you and take you to your bed? I don’t want you walking with your feet like this.” 

“Yeah, but I’m too heavy?” You’re surprised and uncertain. Sure, he had slammed around a grown man like a rag doll, but what if….

“Believe me, you’re not.” He sounds almost amused.

He eases you up onto your knees and over his lap. He encourages you to put your arms over his shoulders. It’s startlingly intimate. You can easily see the fine lines around his eyes at this distance. His breath is warm and against your face, smelling faintly of the watermelon gum he chews. You have just a second to try and process it before he’s gaining a foothold. He stabilizes you with one thick arm under your thighs and his hand on your back. You reflexively gasp and clench the back of his jacket in your hands. Each of his steps is steady. There’s no sign of strain even as he navigates your bedroom doorway. He carefully lowers you to the edge of your mattress and withdraws his arm. Your thighs release their death grip against his hips and you settle into place, feet off the ground. You avoid looking at his face, you know yours feels like it’s on fire. 

You notice that he had already moved your trashcan to your bedside and collected the first aid kit and a roll of paper towels. He must have known you’d cooperate with him. He drags your desk chair over and takes a seat. He pats his thigh encouragingly, and you place your heel right above his knee. He steadies you with a firm hand around your ankle. He removes the shards of glass. He doesn't let you jerk away, not with the grip he has on you, even when the tweezers catch on a particularly deep piece. He works in silence and you eventually allow yourself to lay flat on the bed while he does his task. You don't ask what happened to the man in the hallway. You don't ask how Six got detained in the first place. He doesn’t volunteer the information. The time passes and you’re halfway asleep by the time he’s tying off the wrap securing the bandages on your other foot and carefully easing your leg back down from its elevated position on his thigh. 

"Please stay." You ask the ceiling. You feel more than see Six freeze in response to your question.

“I shouldn’t.” He sounds conflicted. You prop yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him.

“Do you not want to?”

“It’s not that. It’s anything but that.”

You bite your lip and decide to throw all your cards on the table. “I sleep better when I'm around you. You keep the nightmares away.”

He looks surprised, devastated even. His demeanor couldn’t have been any different than if you had asked him to bare his neck and slit his own throat. Resigned, but he would still pick up the knife for you.

"Give me a minute," is his response. 

He gathers up the supplies and turns off the light on his way out of the room, plunging you into the familiar dark of your room. You're not sure what exactly he does while he’s away, but he comes back sans jacket and with his sleeves rolled up. He carries the acidic tang of cleaning chemicals. He settles back into your chair after tossing the laptop on the desk. The two of you watch each other for a moment 

"Are you okay?"

"Emotionally? I've been better. Physically? I'm fine. Just a few scratches and a bruised ego. " He's soft. You nod, reassured.  

You keep your eyes on his face. It’s lit by the soft glow of the screen. It’s become an unhealthy habit, observing this man. You drift off to sleep facing in his direction. He's there when you wake up. He's clearly gotten up at some point to shower, but he did come back to resume his sentence at your side. You greet each other and he excuses himself back to the common areas of the home.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It becomes a thing, you spending time in his presence outside of what follows your nightmares. Something changed in you after the attack. It has culminated in a strong desire to be near him, to be within the frame of his reassuring gaze. Most of the time but not always, you go with him on his surveillance rounds. You walk with him through the yard. It always feels a little like you’re two society members having a chaperoned walk, but it’s soothing. Routine. You’ve also begun sitting with him in the hours before bed. At the table or on the couch while he watches the TV. The two of you simply exist together. 

You rarely return to your room most nights, choosing instead to make your bed in the living room. If you lay just right on the couch, you can spot the bodyguard keeping watch throughout the night. His presence in the room eases your mind enough to allow you to peacefully sleep. You wish that he hasn’t become so essential. You don’t want to think about what your uncle’s return will mean.

He accepts your new routine without question. You notice that he always has the throw pillow moved from the armchair to the couch on the nights you don’t tell him you’re going to bed. There’s no blanket in the living room, but you usually wake up with his jacket of the day draped over you in lieu of one. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

One night, you and Claire manage to bully him into a game of monopoly after the nurse leaves. You’ve been made the banker because Six doesn’t trust your sister and she doesn’t trust him enough either. 

“You just landed on my boardwalk. That’s fourteen hundred bucks.” Claire announces.

Six takes his hand off the game piece and gives her a look . “I thought you owned the brown properties, not the blue ones.” 

She picks up the deeds for Boardwalk and Park Place and waves them pointedly in his direction. “Nope, fourteen hundred. Fork it over.”

Six lets out a genuinely flustered growl. You have to smother your laugh. He counts out the remainder of his money and tosses it in front of your sister. He’s woefully short and out of assets. You and Claire had run him ragged the course of the game until she managed to bankrupt you with some suspiciously underhand tactics. Looks like she got to Six as well. 

“I’m out.” He says, resigned. 

Claire stretches her arms over her head and lets out a satisfied sigh. She then slumps back into her chair in smug victory as the bodyguard extracts himself from his seat at the table to do his nightly check of the doors and windows. She leans over and taps the watch on your wrist. 

“He hasn’t won this back yet?”

“Oh… uh. No.” Your answer sounds flustered, even to you. 

Your little sister raises her eyebrows. There’s a mischievous gleam in her eyes and she opens her mouth to say something before pausing. She instead gets up and gives you a squeeze around the shoulders. You return it with a one armed hug. “‘Night, sis.” 

“‘Night. I’ll see you in the morning.” You return affectionately, letting her go. 

“‘Night, Robot!” She cheerily shouts. There’s a responding grumble from the direction of the garage. Claire flashes you a grin and a thumbs up. 

She’s in her room by the time Six finishes his checks. You’re in the middle of putting up the game when you feel the weight of his eyes on you. It’s just the two of you alone.  He sits back down at the table to help you with it. He’s like a fire against your left side. You’re surprised he didn’t sit in his usual spot at the head of the table.

He lets out a yawn that he can’t suppress. He’s more undone tonight than you’ve seen him yet. He’s wearing a t-shirt tucked into slacks today. No blazer. His hair is tousled, not smoothed into place with product like usual. You think he looks more approachable like this. Your hands touch when you both go to scrape the same pile of deeds off the table. You both freeze. You hear your heart pounding in your ears and with it muffling every other sound, you trail your fingers over the top of his. He shudders when you brush over his knuckles and skim over the dots tattooed into the meat of his thumb. He doesn’t move, staying perfectly still for your exploration. You reach the horse on his forearm and you think his breath hitches in response. You linger on the horse, using your pointer finger to trace its outline. You follow the swoop of its tail, down the outstretched hind leg. 

A soft groan from the man you’re touching makes you remember yourself. You withdraw your hand like you’ve been burnt. He twitches and jerks his own hand towards you like he’s about to reach out and stop you, but he doesn’t. You can still feel the sensation of his skin under your fingertips even as you glue your eyes to the remaining monopoly money and sort it into the tray with unsteady hands. You finish putting up the game in silence. You sleep in your own bed that night. He escorted you to your room. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You wake up weeping the next night. You lay on the couch staring at the living room ceiling while tears involuntarily run down the sides of your face. The imprint of spider webbing glass still swirling around in your mind. You must have made some kind of noise, because Six is making his way across the room. 

You sit up and take a swipe at your face. “I’m sorry.”

"You have to let it out somehow. May I?” He asks, gesturing to the space next at your side. You nod and scoot over to give him slightly more space.

He puts the ever present laptop with its surveillance feed on the coffee table before sitting down. You feel your cushion dip. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. He’s solid. He relaxes underneath the pressure of your body. You instantly feel better. You watch the cameras with him for a while, sighing along with him as the local monkeys throw the lid off the trashcan at the curb in search of a meal. You’ll have to clean up after them after the sun rises. It’s one of the downsides to living in Hong Kong. 

You stay leaning against him for a while, but a stiffness in your neck gets you to change position. Moving slowly so he’s fully aware of your movements, you carefully lay down. He’s taken the place of your improvised throw pillow cushion. Your head is resting on his thigh. He puts his hand on your upper arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze. He leaves it resting there, heavy and warm. 

You wake up a few hours later. The sun is cascading through the living room, throwing rainbow hues on the floor thanks to the decorative glassware. You’re comfortable, too comfortable you realize. Your eyes widen in horrified surprise. You’re still using the bodyguard as a pillow. He's shifted slightly through the night, more slumped and relaxed. He's slid down further, and your face is firmly pressed against his hip now instead of his thigh. You know that you’re going to have the imprint of one of his belt loops on your cheek. His arm is loosely draped over you with his hand tucked underneath your side, a bastardized attempt at spooning. You crane your neck to catch a glimpse of his face. He’s sound asleep. 

You try to sit up without disturbing him, but his arm tightens around you and applies pressure. You’re locked into place. Your mind races. If the nurse or, worse, Claire comes into the room and sees you and Six like this… You have to get up. You put a hand on his thigh and use it as a support to push yourself up. He’s instantly awake from the overt movement. He lifts his arm off your body and lets you sit up. You turn to say something, but find him already staring. His blue eyes are focused on you, they’re sleepy and confused but quickly sharpen to alertness. He looks vaguely distressed. All you can do is offer him a smile and squeeze his leg. You stand up and he follows. Your day goes as usual.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Your nights are largely the same, except that Six seems more distant. He doesn't linger as closely or as comfortably as he did before. Your interactions with the man are more professional. It’s as though weeks, months , of getting to know each other have been erased and you’re back at the beginning. Strangers again. It hurts. You miss him like hell even though he’s right there. Your sleep is worse. It’s almost as bad as in the weeks following the incident that started them in the first place, but they’re different. Amongst the disjointed scenes, there’s a broad shouldered man with dirty blond hair walking away from you in your nightmares now. You scream for him but no sound ever escapes you, just noiseless air. You never see his face. 

You finally have enough when he escorts you to your room one night. You haven’t slept on the couch for over a week, and he’s taken that as his cue to resume seeing you to your bedroom door. You turn to face him as always in the doorway. Instead of saying goodnight like you do every night, you confront him. It even catches you by surprise.

"You're avoiding me.” He doesn’t deny it and you think that hurts more than the newfound distance itself. 

“Why?” You ask only to get more silence. He won’t look at you. 

”What did I do wrong?” Your voice trembles and you hate it. You fumble to take off his watch, to return that final tie between the two of you. He reflexively clamps down on your wrist before you can undo the clasp, pinning your hand to your own wrist. He releases his near crushing grip almost immediately, but the ghost of it lingers. Point taken. You let your arms fall to your side in a clear display of frustration, willing him to talk.

“It wasn’t you. I  overstepped. Your uncle hired me to do a job and I've stepped beyond my purview. " The confession is rough. Torn out of him. The corner of his mouth pulls down in a grimace.

You stare at him blankly. "What?"

"I allowed myself to be too close with you. I apologize. I was unprofessional." He explains, but he won't quite meet your eyes. He hasn't for a while. Not since the morning following the night you fell asleep on him.

"You were... unprofessional?” You question, absolutely lost.

"Yes. I let my feelings about you affect me and my work.. I’ve become… compromised." It's matter of fact. It’s said like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

You reach out and grab his jacket lapels. He looks at you like a beaten dog might, as though you might strike him. He makes no motion to pull himself from your grasp. You swallow hard and let out a breath.

"What about my feelings for you?" You ask. His breath catches and he shakes his head, disbelieving. 

“It would be better if you didn’t feel anything for me.” There’s heartbreak in his blue eyes even as he looks at you like there’s nothing else in the world he would rather be seeing. 

“Better for who?” Your mouth is unbearably dry as you ask the question.

“You. I’ll only jeopardize you.”

”Six…” 

You pull him down and you press your mouth against his. He's rigid and unmoving for a moment before he's kissing you like a dying man who has just been offered immortality. His hands come to rest on your back. He grips your clothing like it’s a lifeline keeping him from going under. You gently nip at his bottom lip and he gasps against your mouth, a broken little noise. He tastes like watermelon gum.

 You pull away. “Jeopardize me then.

That forces a quietly helpless laugh from him. "Now that was unprofessional." His voice is hoarse.

"I had to give you a proper example." 

"Good job. I feel exampled.”

" Good ." You say and kiss him again. He's ready for it this time. He keeps it slow. His hands gently trace your body. He's slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth against your side. You step back, walking him into your room. His breathing is ragged and he's gripping you with a desperation you can’t put your mind around. You stand there, intertwined in each other. His facial hair is rough against your skin but the burn feels good. Your hands make their way around his neck and you gently card your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He makes a wounded sounding noise in response before he pulls away. His hand is cradling the side of your face to keep you in place while his eyes roam across your face. It's as though he’smemorizing you, imprinting the fine details of this moment into his mind. As though he’s preparing to say goodbye. He trails his fingers gently down your jaw before he lets his hand drop.

"Will you stay? Can we sleep?" You ask before he can make up a way to excuse himself.

There’s a dizzying moment of silence before his face softens. “Okay. Yeah.”

The two of you are left to navigate the awkwardness of getting ready for bed. You spin your finger around in a circle and Six immediately gets the idea. He puts his back to you while you change into your sleepwear as quickly as you can. You turn around after giving him the verbal ‘all good’ in time to see him pull off his jacket and toss it onto the desk chair he had occupied when you first realized how addicted you were becoming to him. He pulls his belt off, coils it around his hand before setting it aside. You watch him unbutton his dress shirt. His fingers work deftly to slip the buttons through the holes. He shrugs the shirt off and lays it over the jacket. He’s in his undershirt and slacks. He bends down to untie his shoes and sets them aside. He straightens up and there’s nervousness on his face. You’ve never seen him nervous before. Worried? Yes, but not nervous. 

You slide into the bed and fold down the other side of the blanket for him. You gesture for him to come lay down beside you. He approaches warily and settles in stiffly at your side. His head is on the pillow, hands overlapping on his stomach. He looks like a body in a coffin. You gently touch his hands. He jolts.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, letting your hand rest on top of his.

“I haven’t slept in the same bed as someone since I was a child,” he admits.

“Oh… and that was…?”

“Over twenty-five years ago.”

You allow yourself a moment to grieve for this man before you pull away to shut off the bedside lamp.. You roll onto your back and flop your arms to the side. “Come here then. I’ve used you as a pillow. It’s time for me to return the favor.”

You feel the mattress shift under his weight and he hesitates, hovering over you with arms braced on either side of your body. It’s intimate, having him over you in this way. It’s enough to make you want to kiss him again.You hear him draw breath to raise some kind of concern so you just wrap your arms around him and pull him down on top of you. The weight of him pins you into the mattress. It’s comforting. He’s heavy and warm, akin to a weighted blanket. Granted, a weighted blanket wouldn’t have a muscular thigh wedged between your legs or be breathing against your neck in a way that makes you want to shiver. You fight to ignore your body’s response to him and work on easing the tension that’s holding him rigid against you. 

He gradually relaxes as you trace your hands over his back. You feel more than hear him groan when you pass over a particularly sensitive spot. The rumble feels almost like a purr against your chest. You narrow in on that location, working your fingers into the tight muscle. He allows himself to go limp on top of you, no longer stiffly trying to spare you the brunt of his mass. You run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as a reward for letting himself relax. It earns you a low moan and an involuntary shift of his hips. You’ll have to keep that reaction in mind for later. 

Six’s breathing soon evens out. Years of exhaustion and sleep deprivation have him rapidly sinking into the oblivion of sleep when offered such a precious comfort. You fall asleep with your hand still in his hair. You have the most peaceful rest of your adult life. There’s no night terrors, no pain, no fear, no longing, you just sleep .

The bodyguard is still asleep on top of you when you wake. His breath is whistling slightly through his nose. Not quite a snore, but it’s a sound that gets a fond smile out of you. You wish you could wake up like this every morning. Just this once has given you an insatiable longing for more. You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of the future. Uncle Fitz is due to return from his trip soon, which means the dismissal of Six from the Fitzroy home to complete whatever assignment is next on his task board. You don’t figure him for the abandoning type though. That way of thinking about him doesn’t fit in with the loyalty and thoughtfulness you’ve seen him exercise in his time spent with you and your sister. You’re sure that he’ll find a way to stay in contact after this job ends. 

You gently smooth down his hair. He shifts and buries his face against the hollow of your throat more firmly. You pause, hoping you didn’t wake him, but then you hear a sleep roughened voice say, “Don’t stop on my account.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[fruitmins]

For You | yoongi

➭ summary: in which Yoongi is the son of a big business man and is now the CEO of the million dollar company so naturally he grew up distant and stern. But suddenly, his attitude changes when he meets you, a local kind hearted stripper that catches his curiosity. He finds himself lost in your smile and warm spirit, despite him being the opposite. But he’s willing to let down his walls for you..

➭genre: oneshot, strangers to lovers, stripper reader, slowburn-ish, fluff

➭warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence & blood, tsundere-ish tbh, didnt check the spelling, yoongi is stalker-ish but that’s ok, daddy issues

➭note: don’t ask me why this takes place in winter💀 senior year of high school + writers block + I’m lazy. i like half of this and i hate half of this. omg yoongi going to the military I’m gonna cry & throw a fit

Yoongi put his cold hands in his pockets, small snowflakes falling from the sky as he stepped out of the dirty and vulgar parking lot. He ignored all of the horny thugs who were making out with hookers outside as he headed to the dimly lit building.

SEASAW

The word was lit on top of the building and for some unknown reason, Yoongi had been drawn to it for weeks. He knew there were better clubs than this one, and he’d most likely be seen and on some headline by the time he stepped in the door but tonight, he didn’t care.

His mind went back to the fight he had with his dad on the phone as he stepped through the door, some terribly made whiskey in mind.

A breeze washed over him as the door closed with a loud thud, it was at least a little warmer than the cold air outside. Yoongi glanced around taking in the symphony of multicolored lights illuminated the air, casting a vibrant palette across the dance floor. The room throbbed with an infectious energy, resonating with the beat of the music that reverberated through every corner.

Soon, his eyes found the bar, a couple of nicely dressed men sat at the stools. Without another thought, Yoongi strutted to a seat, leaving an empty space to separate himself and another man.

“Whiskey.” He said in a deep raspy voice despite how the woman working was already in the middle of making another drink.

“Yoongi!” A older sounding man suddenly called out of him, making his head turn to the man on the stool next to him. He recognized the man as one of his dad’s friend.

Perfect. He scoffed to himself, hoping his drink would came faster.

“Now what are you doing in a bar like this?” The man asked with a scratchy laugh, hitting his shoulder.

Yoongi tried to let out a small chuckle that ends up sounding dry. “Same as you.” He spoke, turning back to the bar when he hears the bartender loudly slam his drink on the counter.

He goes to take a large swig as the old man continues to chat and laugh with him, his reeking odor hitting his face as he turns to look back at him.

Behind the old man, Yoongi notices the dance floor. Bodies moved in sync with the rhythm, twisting and gyrating, surrendering themselves to the intoxicating melodies. But one soul figure seemed to catch everyone’s attention on stage.

Slowly, he started to tune out the annoying old man the more closely he watched. But unlike the other men in the bar, he watched with curiosity rather than lust. Your movements were elegant and graceful, your tight crop top and glittery skirt making every sway of your body seen.

Your hands played in your hair and caressed your body as your body moved, painting a mysterious story about you with help of the music. Your eyes closed and a bright warm smile on your face as if no one else was there.

Despite dancing in a shabby club probably to make ends meet, you were dancing as if this was your long time dream.

“Her?” The old man’s itchy voice suddenly came back to him, pointing to you on the stage. “That’s Y/N. She’s kinda a favorite here.” He said and this made Yoongi even more intrigued.

“Has she worked here long?” Yoongi asked glancing back at the old man as he nodded. “Almost a full year.” He said and everyone clapped and whistled as you suddenly came down from the stage with a warm smile.

Yoongi just hummed before quickly finishing his drink before paying the bartender and leaving, deciding to dismiss the thought of talking to you.

But at weird hours of the day Yoongi would think about you, so every time he happened to pass the club he went in and watched you perform.

This happened for weeks. He never said a word to you, he never went further than the bar. Until one day when you had stepped off the stage, looking cheerful as usual, only to be met with two men meeting you half way.

Yoongi watched, his blood starting to boil as the man surrounded you, complimenting you and touching your hair. It didn’t take them long before they got more physical, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away as they started to trail closer to you so that their body touched yours.

Yoongi can see the panic and fear settle in your face before his vision was blocked by the taller men.

Without thinking, Yoongi practically sprung up from the stool, furious as he made his way over to where the men had circled you.

“Move.” He said, his voice deep and hoarse as the two men slowly turned around to face Yoongi.

“Mind your business, hot shot.” One man spoke, obviously trying to spook Yoongi which only wanted to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to waste my breath telling you again.” Yoongi said simply, remaining calm as he watched the two turn irritated.

“You wanna get jumped punk?” The man said, raising his voice as he stepped closer to Yoongi.

Instantly and without warning, Yoongi’s right arm swung in the air. His already clenched knuckles that were in his coat pocket suddenly flew out and connected to the guys face, all of his pent up angry unleashing.

Before anyone can react, he punched him a second time, this one making him stumble to the ground with a yell of pain.

The other man quickly backed away with his hands in the air, “I don’t even know that guy.” The man claimed before quickly rushing off.

Yoongi looked up from the ground where the other man was laid, his nose now bleeding heavily as Yoongi stepped over the body, ignoring his groans when he did so.

“You alright?” Yoongi spoke, his expression softening as he meets your eyes. His eyes glazed around your face as he inspected you, trying not to get lost in your gorgeous and unique features as he looked for any sign that they had touched you.

“I’m fine.” You muttered back, out of breath from shock as you looked at the man on the group and then up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you.” You say with a polite bow, taking a moment to collect yourself before a small smile appears on your face.

“What?” Yoongi asked, curious on why you were suddenly smiling and chuckling despite everything.

“Well, I was wondering when you were going to come talk to me.” You say with a teasing smile only making Yoongi more confused. As if reading his expression you chuckle. “You think I haven’t noticed you always coming in here and watching me?”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging lightly as he looked away. “I don’t care if you noticed or not.” He spoke in a defensive tone, harsher than intended. He saw the smile on your face drop slightly in disappointment and he bit the inside of his cheek harder out of frustration. He didn’t want to be responsible for a frown on your face when you always wore a smile.

Wordlessly, Yoongi took out his wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and holding his hand out for her to take.

Your eyes widen in shock, chuckling nervously as you shake your head, denying it. “Why..?” You start to question, getting a little suspicious.

“For the inconvenience, and all the dances I’ve watched without tipping.” Yoongi states with a serious expression, trying to cover up any other intentions he might of had.

“You just have that much on you at all times? That’s risky.” You respond, still hesitant to take the money. Yoongi lets a smile crack at the irony, “I’ve been watching you for weeks and that’s what your worried about?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want a favor in return or something?” You ask him, still skeptical as Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I guess we’ll never know if you don’t take the money.”

With a sigh, he watches as you slowly take the money out of his hands and put it in your pocket. “Thank you.” You mumble as he turns around and heads for the door. “Wait!” You call for him in confusion, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him as he turns around slightly.

“What’s the favor?” You ask in confusion but Yoongi just looks at you before continuing to walk out without a word.

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to wonder back into the club days after that. Despite the weird exchange it only made him want to get to know you more. But something in him grew colder when he walked in the club only to see you not onstage. Usually around this time you had already started and had a small crowd of men watching you.

“Whiskey.” He ordered in a lower tone as he sat down, tapping impatiently on the counter as he waited. “This was stupid.” He mumbled to himself, ashamed of how he had gotten caught up with this stripper and was just about ready to leave it all behind.

“Min Yoongi! You’re back!” He heard your familiar voice right next to him, causing his head to turn to the side in confusion.

“What are you doing here?” He asked his finger slowly stopping as he looked at you, sat next him in the bar.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I know your name?” You reply instead, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I assumed you already knew.” Yoongi spoke calmly, lightly shrugging even.

“Cocky much?” You reply, jokingly rolling your eyes with a smile. “How did you find out, if not the internet?” Yoongi asked curiously, as the bartender slams his whiskey on the counter.

“Well when the son and CEO of a million dollar company starts to take notice to the best employee in the club, word gets around.” You reply with a slight grin and Yoongi can’t help but chuckle a little.

“Cocky much?” He echos your words as he sips on his whiskey and this only widens your grin further. Yoongi stares into your smile, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders when he realizes it’s been a while since he actually genuinely smiled for once.

When he finishes his drink he takes out his wallet and pays for the bad alcohol before taking out another three hundred and handing it to you, not waiting for you to take it this time.

“This has to be your way of flirting with me.” You mumble in disbelief as you stare at the bills before reluctantly shoving it in your skirt.

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t have time to flirt.” He mumbled firmly while looking at his empty glass.

“You have time to come here.” You differed causing him to bite the inside of his cheek, standing up and dusting himself off. “Wait that didn’t mean leave!” You state quickly getting up with him and Yoongi can’t help but glance at the sudden look of displeasure and sadness on your face as your hand brushes against his as you attempt to stop him.

“I..actually like having you here. You make me feel safe.” You mumble sheepishly as Yoongi stood there, completely frozen as he took in your words. How had he, of all people, made you feel safe? In a run down place like this?

“Then your standers are low.” He said in a low voice, a hint of playfulness in his tone as you look back up at him, snickering at his comment.

“You say that, but under that frown and sharp eyes is a warm hearted gentleman.” You speak causing him to look away from you, not wanting to take your words seriously. He didn’t want to show any signs of vulnerability, he’d never be ready for anything heavy.

“You don’t believe me?” You challenged him, seeing his silence and he heard the heard an underlying tone in your voice when you asked. “If I asked you to walk me to my car, you’d hundred percent do it.”

Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but quickly knew not to didn’t deny it. “See! You would.” You grinned at his sour expression, knowing you were right.

“Whatever, do you want to be walked to your car or not?” He asked trying to dismiss the fact all together. He had never seen himself in a situation like this, feeling embarrassed and maybe bubbly.

You laughed at the question but nodded, grabbing your nearby coat that was filled with stains as you attempted to squeeze your shoulders in the coat.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking in front of you as he leaded the two of you out of the door and to your car. Yoongi sighed as he looked at the state of it, effortlessly taking out his wallet and starting to count some bills.

“If you’re going to give me more money don’t bother.” You quickly said as the two of you made it to your car, stepping in front to him and holding onto his hand so he would stop rummaging through his wallet.

“I don’t need it, I’m fine!” You tried to convince him and he simply raised an eyebrow at you, before going back to counting, taking out a couple hundreds as he did so.

“Then consider it flirting.” He mumbled in a flat tone, taking out five hundreds and getting ready to hand it to you.

As he looked back up from his wallet he felt something soft touch the corner of his lips, eyes widening in shock when he realizes how close you were to him and before he could stop it, you had planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

Your lips lingered on his skin for a couple seconds before finally pulling away from him, taking a step back.

“Come back tomorrow, okay?” You say with a warm smile, practically glowing in front of him as you spoke to him in a soft low tone.

Silently, Yoongi watched you chuckle at his reaction before getting into your car and slowly driving off, his heart thumping as he watched your car drive off onto the road.

He slowly started to move again when your car was far away enough that it was out of view, as if snapping him out of a trance.

Yoongi could feel himself getting lighter, warmer. He could feel his muscles relax as he took his hands out of his coat pocket.

[chocsra]

"Size that Broke the Bonds of Love, (kind of.)"

15! Chuuya x implied fem! reader

A/N: sorry i havent been posting! i got busy w school, enjoy! thank you @sstarshroom for the idea <3 content: you turn into a child and placed in the hands of chuuya to take care of you in the mean time, oneshot, no physical descriptions but uses she/her pronouns, fluff, pure love, friends, slight skk, dazai mention, dazai interaction, pre-relationship, NO ROMANTIC SHIT W A TODDLER

"Can't Dazai just cancel the ability?"

The redhead's feet were planted across from the Port Mafia bosses desk, his hands were placed in his pockets as Chuuya let out a hesitant sigh. The man across from him only chuckled stiffly as his white gloved-hands folded atop the wooden establishment, slick black hair cascading around his pale face. "She'll die. Just a few days, Chuuya, just a few days." Mori Ougai assured, forming a polite smile across his face with slight wrinkles lining his skin; watching as you huffed in a tiny body made from a ability user's work - you were the size of a toddler, even smaller than Elise. Your clothes were too big for you, and you had a scowl on your face that screamed maturity despite your 'chronological' age.

Chuuya glanced at you, tapping his shoe on the polished marble flooring. He was always a dick, whether it'd be out of arrogance or irritation, but you always stuck around; maybe you two were this shitty thing called 'friends'. The boy stared at your tiny figure, almost chuckling in victory that he surpassed someone in height. He thought of all the times you weren't afraid to smack him while laughing, or make fun of an embarrassing voice crack he'd slip out as an attempt to be intimidating. Chuuya thought that he had to repay you in some way, as a friend.. and well, a person.

"Fine." He quips, an annoyed smile creeping on his face; though Mori couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that it reeked of endearment. "I'm not babysitter, though. Just.." Chuuya pauses, spinning around on his heels to walk out of the man's guarded office. "Repaying a friend." The redhead nods in agreement with his statement, turning his head to urge you to follow him. Mori lets out of a mocking laugh, repositioning his once elegant posture in the leather seat. "Friend? Whatever helps you sleep at night." The mafia boss smirks, snapping his fingers, signalling the guards to open the office's sleek brown doors. "Whatever.." Chuuya rolls his eyes, continuing to stride out of his office.

"Careful, girl. I'm the real boogeyman."

Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, letting his arm be used as protection by you from the terrifiying Dazai Osamu. Your face contorted in irritation and slight fear, causing Dazai to send a mocking smile in your direction. The brunette wore a black and white suit with a large raven overcoat draped over his shoulders; gaining a rather large frame supported by his tall height, it made the young boy look horrifying to a child. "Chuuya! I don't like that thing! Kill it!!" You whine, grabbing onto his clothed arm even more, the redhead rolled his eyes as he sat lazily on the leather couch of the mafia's lounge rooms.

Dazai only let out a hearty laugh, leaning forward towards your small face. "That thing? Don't hurt the boogeyman's feelings, kid." the brunette smiled cruely, taking a a bandaged nimble finger just about to boop your nose with 'wholesome' intent, before Chuuya swats his hand away. "Dude, you're gonna kill her." He scowls annoyed, before sliding his gloved hands under your shoulders and hoisting you onto his lap. Dazai straightened his posture and adjusted the sleeves of his overcoat, "Ugh - c'mon, Chuuya. Enough child's play, let's go to the arcade." he gives an exaggerated sigh, causing you to frown even more. Chuuya shakes his head, "Nah, unless you wanna bring her with us." he points to your figure rested in his lap with a mocking smirk, causing Dazai to groan in annoyance.

"It's always about [Y/N] and not us - what about Double Black, man?" the lanky teenager whines, slowly pacing around the room. "Fuck Double Black, you suck." the redhead retorts with a scoff, letting your hands wrap around his gloved thumb, playing with the comforting feeling of his hands. Dazai wiggles his eyebrows in response, "Huh. Y'know, Chuuya, your ears always go red when you lie." he smirks, causing the ginger to twitch an eye and cover his ears in utter shock. "Shut up!" He scowls, before switching to a more endearing smile as you look up at him with pure offense for meddling with your playtime.

It's been a few days since your transformation, you and Chuuya had been walking in the park downtown for quite some time; he was in black slacks and a black varsity jacket with several pins supposedly from one of the former members in the Sheep. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, his other one was grasped by the tiny fingers of your hand.

He sort of missed your reactions to his fake confidence, or the scowl on his face if you ever teased back. Actually, he missed a lot of things about you; since you can't really talk to toddlers, he missed your shameless jokes and talking about booze he never got to share with you. The boy was starting to get worried, it's been more than a few days, what if you never turned back? What if he had to watch you grow up so agonisingly just as he realised.. the boy shook his head back to reality, there was nothing to realise, pull his shit together.

"Chuuya, can we get ice cream?"

"Mhm."

The redhead stopped at a bench, before reaching into his pocket to pull out some cash. Striding towards the small truck selling ice cream, he didn't bother to look at the menu; since he'd have your favourite memorised.

"Thank you."

He smiled softly at the cashier, before turning around with two cones in his gloved hands; walking towards the bench.

Chuuya's eyes darted to the empty bench, no child in sight - have you been kidnapped? Shit, if he wasn't so fucking stupid all the time-

You stood on the concrete of Yokohama's park. looking like a lost puppy as you adjusted the new clothing you were wearing. The sun gleamed off your confused face - but the sight was one of the things Chuuya dearly yearned for; the presence of your teenager self, just as annoying as it was before.

Chuuya wasn't a cheesy guy, girls were never a priority nor has he ever exclusively looked for a girlfriend. However, maybe it was the playlist you recommended him of tunes filled with romance, maybe it influenced his actions; maybe the fact that it was you who recommended it made the knot in his stomach tighten as he looked at your stupid face, and stupid hair, and..

Drop.

The two cones fell to the concrete, but the sound of food clashing with the floor was the least of his concerns. The boy rushed over to the tree you stood under, the light that gleamed off your face, the mischevious sparkle that glimmered in your eyes, and as if the first song on your romance playlist came on all over again, he.. he hugged you. Chuuya wrapped his arms around your shoulders, surprising you as he buried his nose in your hair, pulling you into a tight hug.

"What the hell?!"

You shout, smacking his back at the sudden affection. The boy only hushes you with closed eyes, intaking your scent that he longed for so long. "Shut up, let's go to the arcade right now, yea?"

Oh, Dazai isn't going to like this.

[darling--angst]

Hello!! For the 100+ follower request

Id like to request cloud 9 (1) Chuuya and romantic if possible

Congratulations on over 100 followers <3

Cloud 9

Pairing: Chūya Nakahara x Fem! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Not proofread

Synopsis: Chūya Nakahara grew to love his assistant just like how she turned out to loved him.

A/n: I'm feeling pretty useless and a bit suicidal right now :) semester starts on the 1st day of August so I'll be pretty busy after that. I am sorry if this isn't what you looked for..

Was in my drafts for who knows how long because Tumblr had an error and my drafts wouldn't save...

Event // PM.Masterlist // M.Masterlist

The five tall buildings in the center of Yokohama casted a shadow on the moonlit streets. It was the buildings owned by Mori corporation and where the rulers of the night lies, you are not foreign to them just as they are to you. The automatic door opened and you walked in, a few members showed respect by greetings and you did so too. Your black boots hit the tiled floor while walking towards the elevators, putting in the floor number, you took your phone out of your pocket and dialed a number. The phone in your hand slowly rang, and the elevator closed.

"Sir?" You called his name and could hear his slurs on the other line.

"(name).?" Oh how you loved to hear his voice, hearing your name slip out of his lips made your heart falter.

"Sir, pardon me but where exactly are you?" You tried fo gain back your composure. "Thank heavens he can't see my face right now" you thought to yourself, feeling hot in your face.

"I'm here at a bar, why?" He muttered between hiccups.

"The boss sent me a message to inform you about a sudden meeting. Osam-I mean the former executive Dazai Osamu is held captive in the dungeon, his execution is already on date" the elevator rang and opened, stepping out, you headed to your office; while he continued to listen.

You could feel his anger from the other line while he gritted his teeth upon hearing his former partner's name. You stopped by your office and grabbed a document before closing the door, releasing a thud.

"When's the meeting?" He asked, it seemed as if he really was sober now.

"About three days from now, but it's preferable for you to return the day after tomorrow. After all you do have some matters to attend to in Yokohama, boss said that he'll call you later" You entered the elevator once again and waited for his response.

"I'll return be there tomorrow, answer me if I call alright?"

"Yes sir, good night" You hung up, putting your phone on the pocket of your overcoat. Leaning on the elevator wall, you blushed. Excitement is an understatement of how you felt right now; you could finally see him after a few weeks during his trip overseas.

You put your hand over your chest and began to feel your rapid heartbeat.

"This is wrong.. I'm his secretary and he's my boss, nothing more.. nothing less.. a professional relationship" You struggled as you said the last words, and before you knew it you reached the dungeon.

Clenching the document in hand, you walked down the stairs, the smell of of blood reeking on the air. Your eyes fell to the captive, his arms hanging on the wall and wrists bounded in chains.

"How much do you plan to risk your life , Dazai?" You asked his 'asleep' form, walking near him you noticed the slight twitch on his finger before gently slapping his cheek.

"That really hurt" he opened his eyes to your form.

"Good." You rolled your eyes before brushing away the strand of hair on his face.

"You're so cruel... You do know that you'll be a traitor if you helped me"

"I know." You let out a breathless sigh before removing the bobby pin on his hair and handed it to his hand.

"Reach for my right pocket." His tone of voice was demanding but nonetheless you did what he asked.

"What's this.?" It was a bracelet, it had a flower pattern with a few glass-like-jewels was on top and in the color of gold, on the back it had his and your small initials written on it; as if to prove you it wasn't stolen.

"A bracelet duh!"

"No I mean why.?"

"I missed your birthday for four years didn't I?" He softly smirked before you lightly punched his shoulder.

"...you still owe me three gifts." You muttered before putting the bracelet in the pocket of your overcoat.

"Yeah.."

Silence engulfed the room before she decided to break it.

"Get your stupid ass ready, Akutagawa will beat you up for tomorrow once he knows that you're held captive. You have only tomorrow before that tiger gets captured" You turned around to the stairs after picking the lock of the chains on his feet.

"Ouch. So Akutagawa will come here after capturing Atsushi-kun huh." It was more like a confirmation than a question but yi still answered.

"Yes if that tiger's name is Atsushi"

"Hmm.. But how did you know I'll be here?" He smirked and you continued to go up the stairs.

"Because I know you" You said before you slowly fading into the distance.

"Thanks (name)"

You left the dungeon, went back to her office, and left your overcoat on the couch. Locking the door, you flopped onto your chair and started your computer, you typed and typed, before you knew it; it was already morning. Glancing at the bracelet, it shone while it was hit with the bright sun, then you decided to put it on. Your phone suddenly started to ring just in sync when you slid your arms on your overcoat. Looking at the contact caller, your heart skipped a beat.

"Sir.?"

"I'm going to arrive at the airport soon. Be there with the files" He ordered, his tone of voice was hoarse and demanding.

"Yes." You slightly nodded as if he could see you. With that he hung up, and you sighed. For you that call was more like a reminder that you are nothing but his assistant even if he never knew of your lingering feelings; but it won't make any changes. You left the building and went in your car, driving to the airport.

Chūya's POV

He hung up and his phone dropped to his lap. He heavenly exhaled and looked to the window, as if to hide the blush that crept up to his cheeks.

"How nice it is to hear her voice.." He thought to himself, he felt like pulling his hair out at how stupid he felt for extending his trip to not see her. How foolish he really was..

Ever since he met her a few years back, he grew to love her. He was enchanted by her intelligence, her beauty, her fierce nature, he loved everything about her. He was overcome with excitement when he finally became an executive because it meaned that she could be his assistant, and he would able to see her everyday. That was when he noticed that it was love...

Upon hearing her voice, he wanted to get drunk on it. He wanted to wake up with her beside, while shuffling through her hair just as she did back then to his former partner. He liked her and it was only an understatement, he wants to give her the world and everything she wants.. and now he could finally have his chance to finally do so.

He glances at the small blue box with a ribbon above it. It was a bracelet, one that was a souvenir from his trip, and a gift to you; his only hope for you to accept it along with his feelings.

~Time Skip~

You sat on a small bench and waited for Chūya. You tried to read a book but you couldn't focus because of how fast your heart was beating. No matter how you tried you couldn't get over him, flipping the page to a new chapter, you heard someone call out your name from behind. Looking over the bench, you could see your boss just behind you.

"Ah! Sir" You bowed lightly before continuing to apologize frantically. Ignoring your rambles, his eyes found it's way to your right wrist, and four capitalized letters shone and his eyebrows furrowed upon seeing what it was. 'D.O' and your initials.

"Sir.?" You asked him snapping out of his trance.

"hmm.? Do you need something?" He smiled at you, trying to hide the anger that built up when he realized whose initials those were.

"Uh. No.. I'm just asking if you want to go now" You fiddled with your fingers at the awkwardness.

"Then let's go." He tried his best not to sound angry but it came out more demanding and rude. He internally scolded himself at his pathetic attempt at covering it up, it was likely that you got upset by his actions. You laid your head down before fully responding with a quiet whisper.

"...yes"

The drive was quiet, you were focused on driving and he was looking out the window. You gave him quick glances using the mirror, his features is completely visible to you by such angle, the sunlight hit his ginger hair, it was a sight to behold. Looking away, you could feel your heart skip beats as you turned your focus back on the road. Just then, a pair of ocean eyes landed on you. He couldn't help but clench his fists tight when the bracelet was hit by the sunlight, making it shine. When he was about to look away, his eyes met your by the mirror.

"Do you need something sir?" You turned your eyes on the road, hoping he wouldn't see you blushing.

"Ehem. Yes.. I have a question for you." He tried to look away to hide his red cheeks.

"Ask ahead, sir"

"Why do you still call me by 'sir' and not by my surname or first name?" Truth be told, that was a question that lingered in his mind ever since he left for the trip. "and why do you call that bastard by his first name?" A question that he could never ask you since it may make you think that he was weird for trying to interfere with your personal life.

"I-its only proper for me to call you that since you're my superior" You tried your best to smile but to be honest you wanted to call his name in a honey-like tone, not that you knew he wanted to do the same.

"You've known me ever since I joined the mafia; besides, I call you by your first name for a while now and it's only fair for you to do the same" He nonchalantly explained, trying his best to convince you.

"Okay.. Chūya-san" Your voice was quiet and meek but enough for him to hear. His eyes lightened up before he cleared his voice and looked away.

"Just don't call me sir anymore. It's awkward" He tried to hide the smile that unconsciously crept up his lips, crossing his arms and legs he looked at you.

The drive was silent once again before you lightly chuckled at his reaction, the car was stopped with the heavy traffic, and you turned around to face him.

"I'll keep that in mind Chūya-kun" You smiled at him, your hair fluttering as you turned around. He blushed and muttered a small "whatever" before looking away again, his mind painted with the scene that happened moments ago.

Your mind was flooded with thoughts before you snapped out of it when you heard the traffic lights buzz.

"Oh! Also here" You reached for some files on the car's compartment and handed it to him. "It's a brief review of what you missed and some missions that the boss plans to send you to" You went back to driving after he took the files in your hand.

"Mhm" His expression changed and he looked more serious just as he looked at the files.

After that nobody spoke a single word. You drove to the mafia while he flipped through the documents. The silent breathing from you and the heavy exhales from Chūya is the only sound heard in the car, except the rustling of paper. You broke the silent by muttering a small "We're here" just in sync of you hitting the brakes. The car door released a small click when you opened it, you were about to step out until you felt a gloved hand pull you back.

"Chūya-san?" You stared at him with widened eyes before he let go of you and cleared his voice.

"Ehem! Here! I bought it because it reminded me of you" He reached for his pocket and handed you a small blue box.

"A.. gift.?" Your lips parted as you stared at the box in hand.

"I know that I'm very hard to put up with as you boss, and I realized that I want to—" He struggled to finally say the last words, a scenario playing in his head where you decline his feelings and things will become awkward with you and him.

"—I just.. I want to say say that I really appreciate you hard work" He thought that he finally had the courage to say those words just as he practiced in the mirror but something different came out of his lips.

"I see thank you, Chūya-san" You faintly smiled at before you came to a realization. "We should probably go.." "ah yes.."

That was how the day ended, no important events happened afterwards. You just went and arranged some documents and he attended to the boss's needs, you forgot to open his gift.

Chūya's POV

Another day passed and I was still not able to confess to her. I couldn't get my mind off the bracelet that was on her wrist. A thought that lingered in my mind for too long was"Why did she have a bracelet with his and her initials on it?" Yet, no matter how much I thought of it, I couldn't afford to ask her that, nor to ask her to be my lover.

I woke up in my bed, looking beside me was no one but a hope that I will be able to get the answers to my thoughts and questions. My driver picked me up and I headed to the dungeon, where my former partner is held captive.

"Well isn't this a sight to see... Don't you think so, hmm... Dazai?" Chūya emerged from the shadows and slowly went down the stairs, monitoring Dazai.

"Oh. It's you."

"Hey what's that supposed to mean?! Don't forget that you're the prisoner here shitty Dazai" He pulled his hair closer to him before letting go and turning around.

"Yeah whatever. What are you doing here Chūya."

"I'm here to give you a piece of my mind!" He said before kicking the chains the dangled above his head and punching him in the gut.

"Hmm" Dazai smirked before taking out a pin.

"So you could've escaped no matter what happens huh."

"Of course! And you're not here to give me a piece of mind aren't you?" He stated before Chūya halted and furrowed eyebrows.

"What the hell are you saying-" "You're here to get answers regarding (name) aren't you?"

"What are you on-"

"You want to know why she has a bracelet with my initials don't you?" He stood silent, and Dazai began explaining.

That was the last straw for Chūya. He barged into your office without a word with clenched fists.

"Chūya-san? What are you–" You stood up with widened eyes, but before you could say anything, he pulled you in for a tight embrace.

"Damn it! I love you okay?!" He pulled away, and turned to look at you with determined eyes. You stood still, not processing the words he said. The atmosphere became tense, he wondered if it really was right that he confessed to you, but before he would apologize and leave you blurted out something from shock.

"What. The. Fuck." You lightly slapped your cheeks and he sent you a worried look.

"Excuse me, can you say that again Chu?" The nickname made him blush but he complied nonetheless.

"I love you (name). I don't want to lose you to anybody else other than me. I want to make you the happiest woman and I-" He closed his eyes out of embarrassment but he quickly opened them as he felt your lips against his.

"If this is a dream I don't want it to end" You let out a breathless whisper.

That was the day that a love was formed. A few years passed since then. Dazai became the wingman to their relationship by planning it from the dungeon, and now it was their five year anniversary.

"Hey Chu sorry I'm late." You sat down across Chūya and he faintly smiled.

"It's fine doll. You look beautiful" He smirked before leaving his chair. His eyes fell to the bracelet that he gifted you four years ago. He unconsciously smiled, feeling proud of what he did back then. Now you were wearing a gift from him and not Dazai's, and that was enough to make him feel accomplished.

"oh. Thank you" You raised an eyebrow at what he was doing until he knelt and reached for his pocket.

"(name).. you are a blessing in my life that I thought I didn't deserve. Would you by wife and let me have the pleasure of having you in my life for the rest of my life?" He looked at you with glimmering ocean eyes.

"Chūya Nakahara.—" You said in an endearing tone.

"I feel at Cloud 9 with you, and I wish to spend my entire life with you beside me." You smiled at him before he put the ring in your finger and hugged you in a tight embrace after he kissed you.

He buried his head into the crook of your neck before whispering something that made your heart falter, "I love you—"

"I love you more" You kissed his collarbone before he pulled away and kissed the back of your hand.

"—and I will always continue to love you"

A/n: I am very sorry if that took a wrong turn... I'm currently bedridden right now so this took a long time to make.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

26 + wesper? 💌

Hello! Sorry this took so long— the holidays are always a more difficult time to focus on writing, and then with Covid, jetlag, and the leftover annoyance of my sprained ankle, I’ve just been off my game.

Thank you for participating, though! And being so patient. These little prompts are really helping me get back in the saddle. And I LOVED writing this one. I think I might even continue it and make it a little oneshot.

Enjoy ❤️

Jesper Fahey couldn’t sit still. This wasn’t something that he was bothered by or defensive about when people mentioned it— not most of the time, at least. It was just a fact. As much of a fact as him having charcoal grey eyes, being devilishly handsome, and being able to shoot a coat button from a half mile away and around a corner.

He had a permanently restless mind— his thoughts raced from one thing to another, and his body was constantly fidgeting. He couldn’t keep up with himself sometimes. And he’d fiddle with his guns, or chew absently at his fingers, desperate for something to occupy him whenever he was idle.

Jes didn’t do idle. And if there was one thing smaller than his attention span, it was the likelihood that he’d been listening in the first place.

It wasn’t his fault his brain was so loud. So constant.

Unless it was a target, focus was just not a Jesper talent.

That particular night, though, Jesper had never stayed still for so long. It took effort to keep his mind in check, but luckily for him, his loud, hectic brain was only thinking about one thing: Wylan Van Eck.

A fluff of half singed curls tickled at the underside of his jaw. There was a puff of a pained whimper across his collarbone. The tip of Wylan’s sooty little nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Thank the Saints you stopped by to walk him home, he thought, his fingers twitching restlessly over his lover’s smaller frame. He was pressed to his side, a solid, grounding weight where they laid in the workshop's grotty old bed. If it had been worse, he could have…

Well, Jesper would’ve felt terrible for all the cracks he’d made about losing fingers. That was for certain.

He stroked his thumb along the knuckles of the hand he held— one, two, three, four, and a thumb curled loosely by Jesper’s palm. They were all present and accounted for under the fraying edge of the bandage tied there. It probably wasn’t the best patch job, but he was a bit rattled at the time. It would do until Wylan had slept off the worst of the headache— then they could find Nina and beg her help.

For now, it was just them. Just Jesper, really, listening to his own loud mess of overlapping thoughts while Wylan slept, curling in impossibly closer.

He works too much. These long days are too long, and he probably forgot to eat again, and I was too busy to stop by—

It left a pit in his stomach and a twitch in his muscles— to move, to pace, to do something more, even if there was nothing more to be done.

Wylan snuffled against his chest, and Jesper felt the clench of something desperate and warm wrapped around his heart. He pressed his lips to his merchling’s forehead, getting a nose full of his smoky curls while he did.

They’d need a bath when they got back. In a big way. The stench of the chemicals was more than the ventilation shafts could handle. Still, Jesper only held him tighter, feeling a little insane.

He would never forget walking into the workshop that night— the reek of burning chemicals in the air, the thick cloud of bitter smoke that made his throat sting and his eyes water. He was blinded by the dark plume of it, blinking rapidly as he fought to adjust to the dim lamps somewhere in the chaos. Still, Jesper ran down the stairs.

When he called Wylan’s name, he got nothing but stomach-churning silence.

It took a long moment of Jesper shouting himself hoarse, covering his nose and mouth with his— probably now ruined— pocket square, before he picked up the first signs of movement in the wreckage. There was a rattling cough, and then I’m here! He croaked out the words before dissolving into coughs. I’m- I’m alright, just wait—

With a sudden gust of wind, the vents were cranked open as wide as they could go. The noxious fog thinned and, finally, there was the slim silhouette of his lover. He was hunched over with one hand braced against the workbench. The other was cradled to his chest.

Jesper was at his side faster than he knew he could move. With the reassurance of that standing, awake, alive merchling in his arms, Jes’s brain immediately filled with a hundred shouted questions— what happened? Where does it hurt? Let me see your hand—

In the end, he didn’t need to say a word. Which was a good thing, because not a single word could seem to make it from his brain to his mouth. Wylan was leaning heavily into his chest, his knees wobbly enough that Jesper had to steady him with an arm around his waist. The other was nothing more than a blur, flitting uselessly across the smaller man’s frame like he could scan him for injuries.

My… he swallowed with an audible click, a breath from Jesper’s ear, my head. I hit my head.

Sure enough, there was a bloody mat of hair at the back of his head. His fingers came away stained red. Sucking his teeth nervously, Jesper’s brain got louder, but he didn’t say anything for the moment. Wylan’s eyes were glassy, but focused, and he took that as a good sign as he stroked lightly over his wild hair, trying to assess the damage better. It was so tender that even Jes’s barely present little probe was too much. Wy hissed.

Jes, please.

Okay— okay, Love. He carefully removed his goggles from the top of his head, and plucked the plugs from his ears. I’ve got you.

By the time he shuffled him over to the bed, the smoke had cleared. Jesper sighed at the state of it all— the workshop and the mad scientist included— and let himself revel for just a moment in sheer relief.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as it seemed.

Snagging a roll of bandages and a half-assed first aid kit from a shelf near the bed, Jesper could see that the smoke was much worse than the actual explosion. There was a splintered gouge in the workbench that would need sanding— as if anything ever got sanded in the Barrel— and a sooty stain where it all happened, but other than a few broken bottles and vials, it was no worse for wear.

Wylan must’ve been right there when the blast went off. The support beam behind the workbench had a small blood stain at just about head height for his merchling. He was sooty and singed, with only two perfect circles of clean skin around his eyes— at least he’d been wearing his gear. All that was hurt were his pretty little head, and a messy looking red burn on his right hand.

Alright, Jesper nodded, trying to remember what his da did to gauge Jesper’s head injuries growing up. Head first, merchling. D’you know your name?

Wylan’s lips twitched like he might laugh. A good sign. Wylan Van Eck.

Mhm. And where d’you live, Wylan?

The Slat, with- with my boyfriend.

He never got tired of hearing that. You’ve got a boyfriend? That’s a shame. Wylan managed half a little smile when Jesper winked at him. Come here often?

Jes, he sighed, my head hurts.

He cooed sympathetically, cupping his cheek as softly as he could with one hand while he used his sacrificial pocket square to smear away a little bit of the soot with the other.

I know, Love— you gave it a good, hard smack. But you’re not slurring, you’re not disoriented. So, that’s a point in your favour. Are you nauseous? Dizzy?

Jesper had had enough concussions to at least remember how they felt. Wylan nodded. A bit— the dizziness was pretty bad at first, I… I think I’m fine now, though.

Just in case, it was best not to move him yet. And by the time he was finished dabbing a burn salve into the raw skin of his hand and was tying off the bandage, Wylan’s pretty brown eyes were halflidded. He was swaying just a little where he sat at the edge of the bed.

Jes kissed the top of the bandage.

He supposed a little nap couldn’t hurt. The clock tower was striking 8 bells, and Kaz was sure to be wondering where Jesper had gone— he’d mentioned something about a meeting? He’d never given him a time, though, so he had no right to give him his disappointed face when they got back.

At least, Jes didn’t remember a time.

Well, something more important came up.

The most important thing was Wylan’s poor beleaguered head, pillowed on his chest. His steady breaths were leaving little puffs of warm air across Jesper’s chest. And with that bandaged hand held loosely in his own, his brain finally felt a little quieter.

[samiwife]

Cigarette Burns ⋆ ★ (Izzy Stradlin X Reader)

A/N: Hey everyone! Feels like 4ever since I updated! This is going to be my first angst oneshot for GNR! More importantly! Izzy Stradlin!! Hope you enjoy it! <3

TW: Violence, blood, abuse (Reader discretion is advised)

𓆩♡𓆪= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

You and Izzy have been together for 5 years. You moved in together a year ago. You never knew when you moved in your clothes and everything you own would smell like cigarettes. Izzy always had a smoking habit but you never really mind it. You didn't smoke yourself but you and your stuff now smelled like it. However, weeks turned to months of your property smelling like cigarettes. You started to hate it. You loved Izzy but hated his habit. You would talk to him when he got home from the studio. It wasn't an intervention by any means but you were going to convince him to do it less. Hours pass, and you hear the apartment door open and then close. You turn your head, to see Izzy walk in holding his guitar luggage. You run up to him hugging him. Izzy drops his stuff to quickly hug you back. Izzy kisses the side of your head.

"Hey baby, I missed you," Izzy said while still hugging you. You smiled pulled away and grabbed his luggage. "Where do you want me to put it?" you asked Izzy. Izzy points at the office near the bedroom while pulling out his lighter and his usual pack of cigarettes. You quickly put the luggage in the office and close the door. You walk out and see Izzy smoking a cigarette in the living room. You sighed and went over to sit next to him. Izzy smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed you on the lips. However, you didn't kiss back. His lips reeked of alcohol and more notably he tasted like cigarettes. You pulled away and looked down. Izzy noticed you were visually upset.

"What's wrong honey? Did I do something wrong? Are you sick?" Izzy asked you while lifting up your chin making you look up at him. You smiled a bit. "I'm just thinking of something," you said looking down again. "What are you thinking about?" Izzy asked still looking at you. "Have you ever thought of quitting smoking?" You asked while looking up at him. Izzy went silent and then looked down. He then looks at the cigarette he was smoking. He puts it out in the ashtray and looks at you again. "Y/N, you know I love you. But I also love my cigarettes." Izzy said. Your eyes watered a little. At this point you just wanted him to quit. "Are you going to quit?" You asked while holding Izzy's hand. Izzy looked down and went silent again. "Izzy, please. I just want you to stop." You said now having tears stream down your face. Izzy sighed and still remained silent. "Y/N, please don't cry. I can't promise. This isn't a habit. It's an addiction." Izzy said

"Izzy, I'm worried for you. I'm worried you'll get some sort of cancer from smoking this much. Why can't you just quit for me?" You said as more tears ran down your face. Izzy was now getting irritated by you always worrying. He rolls his eyes and gets up. And starts walking away from you. "Izzy! Izzy! Where are you going?" You scream out. You get up from where you were sitting and grab Izzy's wrist. Izzy whips around and pushes you away. Izzy is never like this. "Y/N, leave me alone." He said, "Izzy please, let's just talk." You said grabbing his wrist again. Izzy angered at this point, grabs the lit cigarette from the ashtray and forcefully pushes it to your skin. You scream from the burning. You let go of his arm. Izzy stood there, looking down at you holding your wrist in pain. Izzy was shocked at his actions. He didn't say a word, he just ran out the door. You were full-on crying at this point.

You thought Izzy loved you. Why would he hurt you like this? You got up and walked to the bathroom to fix yourself. The burn was red and some skin was burned off. You washed the wound with cold water, then you grabbed the bandaids from the cupboard and wrapped them over your burn. You wiped the tears off your face, you were still shaking from what happened. You walked to the living room where the ashtray was. You saw the cigarette that burned you. You picked it up and tossed it in the garbage. Then you took the whole ashtray and threw it in the garbage. You then sat on the couch just sitting there. Hours passed, and Izzy wasn't home. It was almost midnight. You just wanted to see him again. You were worried about him. You went over to the phone and dialed the number of Axl. The phone rang twice, and then Axl picked up. Axl was clearly still awake but he still sounded tired.

"Hey Axl, it's Y/N. I'm just calling to ask if Izzy is with you?" You asked hoping Izzy was there. "Yeah, Izzy is here. Do you want to talk to him?" Axl asked. "Yes please." You said immediately. You can hear the phone being passed off to Izzy. There was a brief silence. Then you heard Izzy clear his throat to say something. "Hey, baby," Izzy said over the phone. Tears fell from your eyes yet again, but this time you were happy to at least hear from him. "Izzy please come home, I promise I won't bother you with smoking ever again." You said desperate to have him home. "Baby, I'll be home in 15 minutes," Izzy said while you cried silently. You hung up and went over to the couch to sit. 15 minutes passed and you heard the door open. It was Izzy walking in. You ran up to him, and he hugged you hard. But one thing you noticed about him was his smell. He didn't smell like cigarettes this time but instead, he smelled clean like laundry. You pulled away.

"Izzy, I am so sorry for upsetting you and everything I said I don't mean-" You were interrupted by Izzy pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. His lips didn't taste like cigarettes, he tasted fresh and minty. You assumed he had just brushed his teeth. You pulled away again and looked at him. His green eyes sparkled in the dimly lit lights of your guy's apartment.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for hurting you. Not just emotionally but physically. I should never burned you with the cigarette. I don't know how you can forgive me. If you even want to be with me still. I'll go to rehab and I'll quit for you to stay with me." Izzy said his eyes watering. You cried at the sight of your boyfriend crying. Izzy was never emotional. You were always the emotional one in the relationship so seeing Izzy cry made your heart hurt. You hugged Izzy and stroked his hair.

"Izzy, you are a mess. But you are my mess. We can sort out our problems together. That's what couples do for each other. You can hurt me sometimes but we can work things out. I love you no matter what." You said in his ear as you still hugged him. You hear Izzy sniff and you can also feel his tear stain the shirt you were wearing. Izzy pulled away and held your hand. You wiped his tears and kissed him.

"I love you Jeffrey Dean Isbell and nothing can change that." You said while looking into his eyes. the same eyes you fell in love with when you first met him. "I love you too Y/N, you'll always be my girl," Izzy said while smiling. The two of you walked to the sofa and fell asleep in each other's arms until the next morning.

[ao3feed-narlie]

since when were rugby lads afraid of the dark?

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/MdbH4y8 by getinbitchesweregoingshopping "Of all the possible places Charlie could have found himself stranded, surrounded by the hormonal homophobic teenage asshats that were the students of Truham Grammar, a remote forest was definitely the last on the list. Charlie had only signed up for this god-forsaken camping trip on the account that he'd be bunking with Tao, Isaac, and a mysterious other third person, but apparently due to a last-minute location change everything was screwed up, and for the last four days he had been bunking with three Year 11s who either reeked of sweat or axe body spray and never anything in between." the self-indulgent camping fic no one asked for because i miss camping :) Words: 2945, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Harry Greene Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring Additional Tags: different first meeting, truham-higgs camping trip, Charlie spring centric, nick doesn't know he's bi but he's about to fucking find out, so much pining, one might even say this fic contains a whole pine forest full of it, such as the one they're camping in, peak wittiness i know, cute lil oneshot bc i can't commit to anything, harry greene being the biggest asshole known to man, fuck Harry Greene, they team up to shaving cream the shit out of harry, Homophobia, brief reference to SH, read ur tags people, written in a light fluffy kind of way, mostly - Freeform, no promises, overall queer joy tho, theyre so fucking adorable, they make my soul smile, s3 better not murder us, Fluff, Camping AU, Oneshot, but like in two parts, so kind of more of a twoshot read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/MdbH4y8

[reikives]

July BTS Fic Recommendations

note from sunie:

For my first few lists I will be posting, it wont really be just for the current month but a few are also some of my favorites from a few years back that I really want to share!

I also want to say thank you, to all the authors who have put in hard work to create these pieces of literature for us to enjoy!

I hope everyone enjoys them as much as I did! You can also send in recommendations in my asks which will always be open! I will try my hardest to keep up!

🌸- fluff 🥀-angst 🌹-mature/suggestive

📖-drabbles/oneshots

📚- series 📝- ongoing ✔️-completed

Yoongi

📖>Kale’in Me Softly (@jimlingss)

Farmer!Yoongi, strangers to lovers 🌸, 🥀(has a little sting), 🌹(mature scene) Word count: 17.1k Summary: After your grandfather's passing, you decide to take over his farm and plant the trendiest vegetable: kale. It's a struggle to be in the countryside when you've always been a city girl. But there's someone less than sympathetic — a grumpy farmer across the acres who's constantly trying to pick a fight with you. Warning/s: Strongly implied smut

—I love their style of writing! I think this fic was v cute and the heat in that one scene was a great sprinkle🤭 Its a great read and I highly recommend!

📖>Bloom (@guksthighs)

hanahaki au, best friends to lovers 🥀,🌸 Word count: 1.7k Summary: When you fall in love with your best friend, flowers begin to bloom. Hanahaki disease - an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. Warning/s: its kind of a tear-jerker but not to worry, its ONLY a tear-jerker there will be knowing flowing of tears (hopefully) &lt;3

—This is actually a read from a few years back that I still come back to once in awhile. I have kept in my notes to remember! I absolutely love guksthigh's works and I think they're beautifully written!

📖>VALUABLES (@drowsymochi)

Established relationship 🌸 Word Count: 306 Summary: “they don’t mean anything to me.” Warning/s: teeth-rotting fluff, Yoongi is so sweet I might consider it an angst from how he makes me cry bc he.

—super cute quick read omg, I abs loved it, makes me want to have an s/o..

Namjoon:

📖>Who are you? (@ausblack)

Hybrid!Namjoon x Hybrid!reader 🌸, 🥀 Word count: 3.4k Summary: A mysterious hybrid that reeks of suppressants catches Namjoon, the wolf hybrid. He's determined to find out what you are. Warning/s: mentions of drinking and smoking, insecurities

—I love this so much! Made me feel a bit fuzzy from how cute this is. Ausblack has been one of my favorite readers when I first got into tumblr a few years back! I recommend their works!

📖>Cut (@chimchimsauce)

Soulmate au, College au 🌸, 🥀 Word count: 1.1k Summary: Namjoon always hated soulmates Warning/s: implied sex and of drinking/smoking (?)

—I love soulmate aus and I absolutely love quick angst reads! Its so good and I come back to it from time to time! I recommend it to all esp if you love quick reads!

Jimin:

📖>Adonis (@xjoonchildx)

Paramedic!Jimin x reader 🌸, a little comedy Word count: 3.4k Summary: your crackpot of a neighbor will not rest until you throw yourself at the gorgeous paramedic in town. she’s nuts, y'all. Warning/s: smoking, sexual innuendo, implied smut

—Very cute and funny fic to read, it was written nicely! I recommend to those who would enjoy a little comedy when they read.

Taehyung:

📚✔️>Camellia (@kinktae)

Prince!Taehyung x Herbalist!reader 🌸, 🥀(if you squint), 🌹(mature) 2/2 Summary: Prince Taehyung comes to find out that the castle has got a new tea girl, and man is she cute. Warning/s: insecurities, smut in 2nd chapter

—I read this a few years back and I still come back to it once in awhile because its well written and I just love the story. This actually got me to love royalty / prince/princess aus and its so cute it hurts.. Super great read! I very much recommend 🥰

📖>Playful (@chimyoung)

Owner!Taehyung x Hybrid!reader 🌸, 🥀 Word count: 3.6k Summary: A mischievous and energetic fox hybird causes an accident in the living room that sets off her boyfriend. Warning/s: lil bit of angst, swearing, couples arguing, Taehyung is a meanie, mentions of blood/injuries, nothing too graphic, there’s a mean guy in a park, that’s about it.

—Ahh its a cute readdd. It has some angst that stings but the fluff balances it out in the end. I've also read a few other of their works that I think that's worth checking out!

Jungkook:

📖>in which you always come home to Jungkook. (@onlyswan)

Established relationship 🌸, lowkey 🥀, 🌹(suggestive) Word count: 3.7k Warning/s: mention of the word whore, boner, showering together

—Its a perfect mix of everything! I've always loved her works and this never disappoints. Its a sweet read if you just want something chill (in my opinion). Highly recommend their work 🥰

📖>Still With Me? (@magicalmarauder)

Boxer!Jungkook, established relationship 🌸, 🥀 (it stings a bit..) Word count: 4k+ Summary: Dating the world’s fastest growing boxer meant several things – kissing his wounds at the end of every fight, watching countless boxing matches to study new techniques with him, and worrying like crazy as different men every night tried to bash his face in. But what happens when tensions run high after a match and Jungkook throws your support back in your face? Warning/s: definitely violence bc boxing, mentions of bruises/wounds, koo was an ass for like 5 seconds

—I am a sucker for anything boxer Jungkook so 😝😝 It stings in a few parts of the story but there is some fluff that act as a band aid do not panic 🙅‍♀️ Nicely written, I love it so much I've actually read it a few time hehe ❤️❤️

📚📝>Quarters (@justoneday-namjoonii)

Boxer!Jungkook x IceSkater!reader 🌸, 🥀 9/? Summary: A look into the dysfunctional relationship of Jungkook, an aspiring boxer, and an aspiring Ice Skater. Warning/s: mentions of abuse, dysfunctional relationship, angst might be triggering to some

—Another boxer!jungkook because I am abs inlove with boxer koo. This is a nice read if you're in angst w just a sprinkle of fluff or like fics w a rollercoaster of emotions!

📖>The Habits of a Broken Heart. (@softykooky)

Soulmate au, subtle enemies to lovers, slow burn, art student!Jungkook x english student!reader 🌸, 🥀 Word count: 26.3k Summary: Jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak.

alternatively,

“You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.” Warning/s: jealousy, unrequited love, shouting (?(please bear with me i dont really knw what to put in warnings yet 💀))

—I think I've read this about 5 times already ahhh.. Its so goooooddd, the angst really hits you.. it made me cry every time but the ending makes up for it. I love how well written this is, its a lovely fic to read 💗💗💗

📖>How Long Will We Fall (@jiminrings)

Soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love (at first) 🌸, 🥀 Word count: 14k Summary: If it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why Jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it. alternatively,

Jungkook’s your soulmate, but he doesn’t want to be.

—Another angst soulmate au bc I love hurting myself hehe, I love how this was written, I love the character development, I love the angst, I love this..

Poly/OT7

📚✔️>Hybrid House (@hollyhomburg)

Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!reader 🌸, 🥀, 🌹 (mature) 3/3 + Epilogue Summary: to Seokjin, Home consists of his human partners Namjoon and Hoseok as well as their Hybrids; the pups- named Taehyung and Jimin, their black cat- called Yoongi, and their foxboy- called Jungkook. Together they have the happiest family possible, everyone loves everyone equally. 

So what happens when Namjoon finds you? a cat hybrid, beaten close to death left alone in an alleyway on the coldest night of the year? He takes you home, shows you his family, and together they teach you what love can be like. Warning/s: mentions of blood/injuries, abuse, heavy smut scenes, Jungkook being mean for a bit

—I have been a fan of their work for a long time already and I think this is among one of my favorite works of theirs. Its's very well written and I recommend this to those who have hybrid aus up their allies. Great author, great work ❤️

📖>Sugary Sweet (@hollyhomburg)

Hybrid! Reader x Hybrid! Taehyung x Hybrid! Yoongi x Owner! Namjoon 🌸, 🥀 Word Count: 10k Summary: Namjoon has a perfect life once he moves out of the city to a cabin alongside his two rescue hybrids, Yoongi and Taehyung. But then one night in the middle of the rainstorm they find you, a bunny hybrid, hiding in their chicken coop.   Warning/s: Anxiety attacks, Anxious! Namjoon, mentions of hybrid abandonment, hybrid mistreatment, Half of this is Domestic fluff, possessive behavior. 

—Another great hybrid read from hollyhomburg!! Very cute and has some angst to spice it up, it pulls on the heartstrings just right❤️❤️ I actually have read this a few times, I'm one to come back to something if I really enjoy it. So again, amazing work, this is actually my favorite from them ❤️

📚📝>Cry Me A River (@minniepetals)

Mafia!au, arrange marriage!au 🌸, 🥀 13/? Summary: Forever is just an illusion, nothing lasts forever. Don't make me a promise that you cannot keep. Please... it'll break my heart. Warning/s: (triggering topics! please read at your own discretion) childhood trauma, mental abuse, physical abuse, child neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, mentions of assault, implied sexual assault, hurt and comfort, divorce, emotional neglect, minor character deaths, kidnapping, some emotionally unstable scenes.

—AN ALL TIME FAVORITE OF MINE. First, I abs love mafia aus and I love angst. CMAR was written beautifully,,, perfectly. It has me crying and screaming all over the place. You can feel the emotions as you read this series, that why I love it so much. It's so angsty I love it. Minnie does a great job in writing this that I always earn for more every other chapter, IM COMPLETELY HOOKED. The attention to detail is just amazing and she also listens to the readers, I love her sm.. Great read, I absolutely recommend cmar.

—If anyone has noticed, there are no Jin and Hobi fics on my recs as of the moment, its because I have yet to find jin and hobi fics that suit taste! Please do recommend some fics and authors in my asks if you have any recommendations! I will be reading them when I have time!

I will try to post recs weekly if I am not busy. Maybe I'll just post when I can and then have my monthly recs!

[offbranddrpepsi]

Beloved

Pairing: Chamber X Fem!Reader

Status: Oneshot

Ao3 link: here

Rating: SFW, Fluff Length: 2,230 words

Request: Could you perhaps do a chamber x wife reader wherein Chamber hasn't seen his wife in a few months due to his spot in Valorant. So reader decides to come visit him. Just a bunch of Fluff basically, it'd also be funny to see the other agents reaction to Learning Chamber was married ^^

Fic below -------------------------------------------------------------------

You slaved away in the kitchen, making a meal for one as you had been for the past several months. Your husband had been away for a while on some business trip. What exactly he was doing he didn’t tell you, saying he couldn’t without his supervisors approval. It frustrated you how often he was leaving lately, but when you had married the weapon designer you knew exactly what you were signing up for so you couldn’t complain much. Vicent told you as much as he could when it came to work and you appreciated that. You were told more than most given you were the person who held his unwavering trust, but he did still keep things from you. His current side job was one of those things he rarely talked about and you knew near nothing of. You figured it had to have been some PMC or mercenary work, something far too dangerous for you to even want to be involved in. Your safety was his number one priority so it only made sense he would keep something dangerous on the down low, probably trying to not worry you about his safety as well. Just as your food finished, a sad meal of premade soup, you heard the front door open. Bouncing with excitement you rushed to peak your head around the corner, hoping to see your much awaited husband. There he stood looking worn out and disheveled, even an absolute mess the sight of him made your heart swell. “Chérie, (darling)” He called out, obviously not seeing you from behind the corner. “Je suis à la maison (I’m home.)”  Rushing out you wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face in his chest. With a small laugh he placed his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. He was reeked of sweat and his suit sported several tears, whatever he had been doing really put him through the ringer. Looking up you were met with a soft but exhausted kiss, his eyes looking absolutely drained of life. “Are you alright? You look awful,” You went to take his bag as you usually did but he stopped you, putting a hand up. “I will be fine, do you happen to have a suitcase ready?” He spoke as softly as he normally did with you, keeping his composure despite obvious dismay. “Um I can in fifteen minutes, why?” Normally when he returned you spent the following days together, making up for the lost time it was strange to go on a trip. Maybe he wanted a vacation from everything after a rough job? “There is a situation so for the time being I do not want you leaving my side,” Shuffling you to your bed room he helped you pack a quick go bag, continuing to explain as he did so. “I have gotten permission to bring you to meet my coworkers and stay at their facility until everything is resolved.” Quickly packing you nodded along, mildly excited at meeting the people who stole him away so often but a bit anxious given how serious everything seemed. As you finished up your packing you found Vincent already putting his shoes on about to leave, a frown covering your face. “You will be picked up tomorrow, I apologize but I'm needed urgently.” Coming to give him a hug you pouted but knew it wouldn’t be long before you saw him again. “je t'aime tellement (i love you so much)” He spoke against your lips as he kissed you deeply, you returning the sentiment. He ducked out and you went to finish your now cold soup before hurrying to bed so you were ready in the morning. The next morning you were met by a car that took you to a landing pad, a military grade vulture waiting for you. The ride was fast and you were the vehicle's only passenger, making the ride still a tad lonely. Arriving at some sort of island you were ushered inside and left to your own devices, taking in the high tech building with awe. There was a tap on your shoulder that caused you to turn, a woman with white hair looking at you confused, “Um, who are you? Are you lost or something?” She sounded young and was very expressive as she spoke, her confusion only being more evident. You remember Vincent mentioning that, should you ever have to talk to his coworkers, you should use his alias rather than actual name. “I’m (Y/N), I’m Chamber’s wife? I was told I was expected here?” Her face turned to one of shock then excitement  as she bounced into the air, clearly showing she was a radiant. “You’re kidding me, Mr. Fancy pants has a wife?!” She said with glee. “I’ve got to tell Neon she won’t believe this, wait I should show her, are you okay meeting a few people? We all work with your husband so it should be fine!” “Um, okay?” with that she grabbed your hand and zipped you off to a common area where many more people sat playing a video game. Some of them waved hellos at her, you learning her name was Jett, while everyone else just kind of looked at you with confusion. “Jett what ya got there? New recruit?” A taller man with a blue streak through his hair approached you, eyeing you intensely. “She looks weak, she a radiant?”

“I’m (Y/N) and no i'm not a radiant,” You spoke for yourself, being annoyed at being called weak as well as treated like you weren’t there. “I’m actually looking for whoever’s in charge, i was told i was expected and right now it’s looking like i wasn’t”

“I can go get Sage, Brim’s out on another mission.” A darker skinned woman stood and stretched, adjusting the hat on her head as she walked towards you. “Who are you anyways, like past your name and stuff.” “She’s Chamber’s wife!” Jett excitedly exclaimed in an almost shout. The room grew silent as all their eyes turned to you, equal looks of shock and surprise painting their faces. The next twenty minutes were spent verifying that yes you were in fact married to the Frenchman, confirming you weren’t a spy, and going around hearing the disbelief that Vincent could keep down anyone let alone a wife. It was a bit amusing how they all reacted to this new knowledge, it seemed your husband told everyone else next to nothing when it came to his personal life. “I didn’t even know he was capable of being not obnoxious,” spoke the blue haired woman you’d come to know as Neon. “ it ruins his whole image knowing he managed to get someone to marry him.” “Oh he didn’t get me to marry him,” You corrected. “I proposed to him, he’s too picky to pick out a ring or date so I just decided I would ask him instead of waiting forever.” The room seemed to break out in shared amusement, starting to ask you questions about your engagement and wedding. How you proposed wasn’t flashy and was exactly the opposite of how your husband would have done it. You managed to pull him along to the park where you’d met, him complaining about your dinner reservations despite you making sure there was ample time between the two events.  Distracting him by jogging his memory of your first meeting, which was less than glamorous as he literally fell over you while you were sketching ducks, you got the simple gold and black ring out. To say he was surprised was an under-statement. He called and canceled your reservations then decided to just spend time with you there in the park, both a smile and a dusting of pink never leaving his face. He had later informed you how impressed he was you managed to keep the whole thing a secret from him while also being amused you beat him to the punch. Your wedding was as low key as your engagement as you had convinced Vincent you didn’t want something lavish or expensive, all you wanted was him and the moment. The man was incredibly sentimental, at least when it came to you, so he allowed it with the promise you’d let him at least design the event. It was funny watching him wedding plan and getting everything together but he did make the day memorable and special without a hint of the flashiness he was known for. The girls were in a mix of awe and disbelief as you retold everything, being sure to leave out any personal details such as locations or dates. The guys however were mostly attentive but few held any expressions the girls did, one of the only ones being Phoenix. “That is, that’s really romantic. It’s a shock Chamber could do something like that,” Phoenix sounded soft and sweet, the boy probably enjoying this sort of thing. “It’s a shock I could what?” The voice of your husband called out from the doorway, interjecting himself in the conversation. He placed an arm around you as you sat on a stool, giving you a small smile before he turned back to everyone else. “Have a heart, get married, date someone, plan a wedding; ya’ know normal things.” Neon spoke up sarcastically to which you felt your husband stiffen. Suppressing a laugh at his annoyed facial expression you stood, his arm finding your waist. “Um, shouldn't we be heading over to meet um, Brimstone and Sage right?” You looked as Jett who sat perched on a counter, her giving you a nod that you had gotten their names correct. Vincent pulled you along out of the room, you waving at the group as you left. His grip on your waist tightened as you approached an office, him turning to speak to you before you entered. “They treated you well I'm assuming?” He sounded still annoyed but concerned. “Yes, they were all really nice! It’s good to know you keep up the whole stuffy fancy guy face at work,” You let yourself laugh which only caused his annoyed expression to grow worse. Rolling his eyes he opened the office door for you, letting you step in before him as he always did. Inside the room were two women and a man, all of them looking vastly different. “Chamber is this her?” A woman with long black hair spoke, her voice soft and pleasant. “She’s lovely, I hope the other agents didn’t give her too much trouble.” “From what she says they were more than pleasant company,” Vincent spoke before motioning a hand to you. “(Y/N) this is Sage, Viper, and Brimstone. This is my wife (Y/N), I am glad I was able to formally introduce you all despite the less than ideal circumstances.” “It’s nice to meet you,” the other woman, who you now knew was Viper, came forward and shook your hand. “I’m Viper, one of the founders of this organization. I will admit I was surprised when I heard that Chamber had a wife so it's good to know he wasn’t lying about that.” You snorted after shaking her hand, covering your mouth to muffle your laugh. It was hilarious the image they had of him and how open everyone was with voicing it, you taking note of each comment to pick on Vincent later. “I'm Brim, It’s nice to meet you and I hope you enjoy your time here. If anyone gives you trouble let me know and I'll handle it.” The man spoke, sounding relaxed but a bit bored. “We can get you introduced to Cypher in a bit, he’s the one who suggested this arrangement.” You’d heard that name before from your husband, the broker was on somewhat tense terms with him so it was odd to learn he advocated for you to say the least. Being escorted out and away to a room to set your things you decided to ask Vincent about it. “Why would Cypher suggest I stay here? I thought he didn’t like you.” You plopped down on the bed, taking your shoes off. “He does not, but he values one thing above all else and that is family,” He responded matter of factly, putting away your things for you before coming to join you. “All i had to do was mention how worried i was about our current enemy going after you and he pulled all the strings i needed.” “So you played to his heart?” You asked as he settled and pulled you to lay down, arms circling around you in a tight hug. “You weren’t even worried were you?” “I was,” He admitted, removing his glasses and closing his eyes. “But no more than I usually am when I leave you. I was, as you like to put it, needy and wanted my wife, is that too much to ask.” Laughing at his obvious poking at you, you shut him up with a kiss before settling down to chat about the period you were apart. Eventually Vincent had dozed off mid sentence, his exhaustion finally taking him. You didn’t join him in sleep for some time, plotting your next move to get to know his coworkers more and maybe be able to come by in the future without having your husband manipulate people.

[butterfluffy]

AHHHH CONGRATS 4 300+ FOLLOWERS IWNKFNWKFMSONDIEH ♡(> ਊ <)♡ LEMME GIVE U A KISS & A HUG EHEHEHEHE (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

OHH ALSO may i join the event?🍷 W/ Kid & F!S/O IANFKMSOFMSKFNW ( ˶ ❛ ꁞ ❛ ˶ ) IDK WHY BUT I LOVE HOW U WRITE 4 KID EHEHEHEHE (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

THX A LOT KQNRKWMOFMSODB & DON'T 4GET 2 TAKE CARE OF URSELF (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`)

“drunken in you”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· about to pick your lover up on a bar after a fight with him, he beats you to it, coming back home to you, drunk. and a drunken confession fell from his lips..

⠀⠀➧ prompt: (🍷 | “are you drunk?” · “yeah, drunken in you.”)

⠀⠀➧ r. angst to fluff | eustass kid × f!reader | oneshot

⠀⠀➧ warnings — none! mistakes and swearing may be present though.. so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed until further notice!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: welcome to “i'm in love with you!” confession event made to celebrate this account reaching 300+ followers! visit it to see my other works on this special!

reqested by: @kotaro16 — HELLO KOOO!! HERE'S YOUR REQUEST OML, you're being sweet again, thank you!! (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

A heavy sigh escaped your lips upon waking up hours after you and your lover, Kid, had an argument about him frequently getting into fights. It wasn't anything major, but you know that Kid has other ways of cooling off—which is drinking on bars.

“..Ugh, now, time to pick that tulip up. I hope Killer's still awake to help me carry that baby back here.” You grumble, putting your coat on and grabbing your keys, opening the door when—

“I'm back.” Your lover, Eustass Kid announced. Standing in front of you with a small frown on his face, reeking alcohol.

“Done drinking your ass up?” You said with an eye roll, returning your coat and keys back to the rack as your lover walked to the couch, still having foothold.

He's awfully silent, and you felt it. So following him to the couch, you sat beside Kid, keeping a small distance from him.

“So,” You hummed, taking a pause to lean your body to the armrest, “What's with you, Eustass Kid? You're awfully silent.”

Receiving no answer from him, you huffed. Shaking your head as you stood up. “I'll be sleeping now, just follow if you want.”

Taking a step away from Kid, he immediately dart his eyes on you, hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to the seat beside him. “Don't leave me.”

Hearing his mutter, your heart clenched. Following what he said and staying beside him in silence before you broke it with a question, “..Are you drunk?”

You couldn't help it but ask that. He's being unusual after all—being soft and silent, the opposite of his usual rough and loud self.

“Yeah,” Kid murmurs, hand caressing your palm as he leaned his head on your shoulder before he continued, “drunken in you.”

Hearing his murmur, your eyes widened, before having a chuckle leave your mouth. Running your fingers through Kid's wild, red hair as he grumbled.

“My my, how cheesy, Kid.” You snicker, shifting your position, laying down the couch with your back leaned on the arm rest as Kid rested him face on your breasts, arms around your waist.

“Shut up, damned woman...” He growls, burrowing his face deeper on your chest, nose by your cleavage. “But, ‘m sorry.”

Apologizing to you out of a sudden, you hummed, pretending that you don't know what is he apologizing for. “Mhm? For what?”

“....For being such a hard-headed fucker who likes gettin' in to fights.. And for causing you a lot of troubles, and headaches.”

Giving you the reason why he's apologizing, Kid clenched the shirt you're wearing, looking up at you with a frown, and eyes shining in gloss, as if he's about to cry. “...And now that I've apologized, don't leave me..”

“Oh?” Raising your brows, you nod, hand trailing to his back, caressing it. “I won't do that, don't worry. That's because...”

“I love you.” Leaning towards his face, you then pecked his forehead as you said your sweet words, causing Kid to have his face blow red as he tigtened his hold on you. “..Uh-huh, love you too.”

© butterfluffy 2022

[the-possum-writes]

Hi, could I ask for a 'there's only one bed' trope with finn the human? Thanks!

There's Only One Bed!

❥Ship: Finn Mertens/Reader

❥Tags: Oneshot, Fluff, humor, fanfic tropes, gender neutral!reader

❥Synopsis: A terrible storm has lead you and Finn to stay at an inn, confesiones are made and tropes are expected.

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards

You wish you could call this an ordinary storm but after witnessing a metallic billboard get blown off its hinges and crash land on a car, it's understandable why you don't want to risk traveling in this weather. The safest idea was to cut this expedition short and seek refuge in a nearby town, preferably the cheapest inn you two could find.

"Yeah we're alright, just gonna wait out the storm at an inn," you hear Finn talking to Jake through the phone line. It isn't like you're actively eavesdropping on him, it's just that you happen to be within hearing distance. What a coincidence. "Chill man, we're gonna get separate rooms-" Finn gives you a side glance before placing a hand over the receiver end and purposely turn his back, but you can still manage to distinguish a few lines. "No, no, I don't need you to lecture me on tier 15 again... Cause I'm not a preteen anymore geez! I'll see you in the morning." he eventually hanged up in a furious whisper, looking rather agitated.

"Something wrong?" you ask him, going so far as to fan him with a pamphlet.

Finn scratches the back of his head with a brief laugh. "Nothing, just Jake being Jake." he changes the topic by pointing to the reservation desk. "Did you get our room keys?"

You lower your sight to the ground, scratching the back of your ear. "Yes and no. They told me all the rooms were taken except for one..." to demonstrate your point you raise the single key hanging from your index finger.

Finn exhales from his nose in a tiny laugh. "Really? Uh, that doesn't sound too bad. We've camped together before, you'll just take one bed and I'll take the other."

You nod with uncertainty, too embarrassed to explain the situation until he sees it for himself.

Finn didn't see an issue until you two reached said room in question, opening it to reveal the only thing you've been dreading after watching countless cheesy room coms with Pb and Marcy. A single king sized bed in an otherwise spacious room, not only that but it's decorated with hearts, shades of pink and typical lovely dovely imagery usually reserved for valentines day. "Reception said the honeymoon suite was the only one available," you shift awkwardly as you take a step inside the room, it reeks of lotion and flowery scented candles. "The decoration is awful, but look at the bright side! it had a 2x1 discount price." Finn can tell you're trying to make light of the inconvenience but it's pretty hard when everything in the room screams romance while the two of you are just friends. Right?

Okay that's a partial lie, there's been some growing tension between the two of you for a while now but for the sake of the friendship neither of you took the initiative.

"No biggie! You're probably more tired than I am. You can take the bed." Finn reassures you, funny enough he turns around to avoid meeting your gaze. You lower you back pack beside the bed and it's overly exaggerated amount of pillows. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll just sleep on this weird curved sofa."

"... Uh Finn, that's not a sofa." you pause momentarily, realizing you'd rather not explain what that piece of furniture is. Or even less, explain why you know what that piece of furniture is for. "You've done a lot of heavy lifting all the way here, maybe you should have it." you raise a hand to his shoulder but the boy flinched to your touch.

"No, no its alright. Honest!" his tone is slightly raised, proving the opposite.

His conversation with Jake started making sense now. You firmly press your hands on Finn's shoulders and force him to turn him around, that's when you're met with what he was trying to hide, the tomato red blush spread over his boyish face. "Finn, we're both equally tired after that trip, we both deserve a good night sleep. Besides, we've known each other for a long time and I trust you won't do anything inappropriate, so I don't see an issue with sharing a bed for today."

"But..."

"Do you trust me?" you interrupt him, keeping eye contact.

"I uh, I do." he nods.

"Good," you end the conversation with a stern nod. "Now I'll go take a hot shower and get out of these wet clothes."

Finn watches you grab a change of dry clothes and make your way to the bathroom, he admires how mature you handled the situation while he's standing here with his face hot enough to fry an egg. Normally he has no issues sharing beds, but the obvious embarrassment reveals his true feelings about you. Despite how you handled the situation in front of Finn, the second you hide behind the bathroom door you find yourself blushing madly as you squeal under your breath.

After the two of you warm up, tuck into bed and turn off the light, you feel your roommate turn his back to you on his side of the bed. If anyone walked in on the two of you they would think you and Finn are a couple who had an argument. You don't know why but you feel at peace, maybe it's the tranquility of sleeping in a bed after camping in the wilderness, the blankets warmth compared to walking in the rain, or the water droplets smacking against the windows in an almost rhythmic melody. Truthfully, you think it's because of Finn's presence next to you, something about it makes you feel safe and comfortable. Like when he watches over you when you sleep during stake outs.

"Hey Finn, are you asleep yet?" you fear he’s already long asleep, but he responds with a raspy voice, as if he was on the brink of sleeping.

"Not anymore," he chuckles. "What's up? Can't get some shut eye?" he asks.

"Kind of, sorry about your own sleep though. I'm probably a terrible roommate." you lament, hiding deeper in the covers.

"You're not that bad, at least you don't snore like Jake after a house party." you appreciate his comforting words with a brief laugh, but there's still something bothering you. "Then why were you so adamant about sharing with me?"

Finn didn't respond immediately but you feel the bed shift lightly. "Cause the thought of being so close to you made me feel funny." The response wasn't exactly what you were expecting. "A good funny or a bad funny?" you indulge yourself in his explanation. "Well, it makes me happy and warm inside so it's probably a good funny." he's no fool and neither are you, but Finn is being careful about this in case you don't feel the same, almost like he's treading on thin ice. Which is dumb, because you share the same feelings.

You lift the top portion of your body so you could turn around and face Finn, where he still has his back to you. "You also make me feel happy and warm." Finn finally turned around, his shocked face turning into a pleasing smile. "And here I thought I would make for a terrible roommate." you laugh one last time before breaking into a long yawn.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow."

If it wasn't for last night's confessions it would've made the next morning much more awkward, you woke up wrapped around in Finn’s arms with your legs tangled within his in a domestic display you've only seen in romance movies. Looks like overused tropes aren't so bad after all.

[banqtanreads]

september reads | navi

SERIES | ongoing - ✐ complete - ✓

➵ mind of mine by @yslkook (fluff, smut, angst) ✓

friends to lovers, badboy!jk, tattoo artist!jk

summary: you, a data scientist, have always found comfort in numbers and analysis. and there’s jungkook, a tattoo artist who has always been in your orbit, just on the edge. for years. attraction has swirled between you both from the beginning, but neither of you seem to do anything about it. until now.

❥ my review

➵ lowkey by @xpeachesncream (fluff, angst, smut)✓

college!au, fake dating!au, friends to lovers, nerd!jk

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damaged from an accident, all you have to do is held the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

❥ my review

➵ from home by @gyukult (fluff, angst, smut) ✓

rich kid!jk, fake dating!au

summary: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any of his parents’ money. what if his mum suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behaviour and hues forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

❥ my review

➵ after midnight by gyukult (angst, smut, fluff) ✓

friends with benefits, fuckboy!jk

summary: he only likes seeing you after midnight

➵ liquid courage by @xpeachesncream (smut, fluff) ✓

collection of oneshots, strangers to lovers, businessman!jk

summary: meetings with jeon jungkook consist if a little liquid courage to help you step out of your comfort zone.

➵ inevitable by @ahundredtimesover (angst, fluff, smut) ✓

exes!au, parents!au, baseball player!jk

summary: you convinced jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. now he’s back home, staring at you and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

❥ my review

ONESHOTS | TWOSHOTS

➵ oreo’s… and electroshock couples therapy by @ladyartemesia (fluff, comedy, suspense)

enemies/rivals to lovers, fake dating, detective!au

summary: you and infuriating precinct playboy jeon jungkook go undercover to lure out a killer targeting engaged couples. literally nothing goes according to plan…

❥ my review

➵ switch it up! by @bratkook (fluff, smut)

bass player!jk, friends to lovers

summary: you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos.

❥ my review

➵ (road) tripping for you by @latetaektalk (fluff, light angst)

road trip!au, strangers to lovers, summer!au

summary: it was just supposed to be a roadtrip; your best friend, her boyfriend, his best friend, and you. but it gets a little more complicated (and a whole lot more awkward) when your best friend and her boyfriend have to drop out and you’re left to go on the trip with none other than jeon jungkook, a complete stranger. well, a complete stranger except for the fact that you hooked up two years ago.

❥ my review

➵ boyfriend material by @ladyartemesia (fluff, comedy, smut)

friends to lovers, slice of life!au

summary: you meet jungkook through mutual friends and your love story begins.

➵ spidey-spidey by @kookings (humor, fluff, light smut)

neighbour!jk, college!au, friends to lovers

summary: your neighbour slash crush jeon jungkook is exceptional at exterminating bugs from your apartment and also kissing you.

➵ set on you by @bymoonchild (fluff, smut)

volleyball!au, setter!jk, college!au

summary: sports has never been your think, so when you find yourself in a sports hall that reeks of perspiration and cologne and in front of a group of volleyball players whom you’re supposed to be managing (heck, you can’t even manage your own life), you know that you’re in Deep Shit.

➵ sharp cookie by @minyfic (angst, smut, fluff)

exes!au, ceo!jk, fuckboy!jk

summary: what your ex-boyfriend, aka new boss, asks for a chance, you struggle to believe him when he says that he has changed his womanizing ways.

➵ heart taping by minyfic (fluff, light angst)

soccer player!jk, enemies to lovers, high school!au

summary: the problematic goalie of the soccer team just needed some TLC.

➵ hold your breath by minyfic (smut, fluff)

new relationship!au

summary: you and jungkook have a very heated make out session.

➵ try hard by @hobibliophile (fluff, smut)

rugby player!jk, college!au

summary: yoongi ask you to help him photograph the university rugby team and you’re reluctant until you see jeon jungkook in uniform. Damn.

➵ the whole of your heart by @lcksndkys (smut, fluff, v light angst)

husband!jk

summary: save a drum, bang a drummer.

➵ what is love? by @someonewhowannadielol (smut, fluff, angst)

badboy!jk, boyfriend!jk

summary: jungkook has a degrading kink. y/n does not seem to like it. also, jk is bad at this entire love thing but totally whipped for the girl of his dreams.

➵ stay quiet by @hobidreams (smut, fluff)

boyfriend!jk, college!au

summary: you think the library is only a place for studying. jungkook convinces you otherwise.

so much love and respect to these amazing writers!! <3

[joontopia]

Forget Me Not | KNJ Oneshot

pairing: kim namjoon x female reader

genre: smut, slight angst, dashes of fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot

au: exes to lovers, valentine’s day

rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+

word count: 20.3K

warnings: slight angst, assumed cheating, cursing, alcohol consumption, dry humping, some heavy petting, heated make out sessions, daddy kink, slightly bratty reader, dom namjoon, pet names, dirty name calling, slight degradation, cocksleeve kink, use of sex toys (vibrator), unprotected sex, condom got lost in the mail, cumshot, creampie, oral sex (m & f), blowjob, throat fucking, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, clit slapping, spit play, namjoon got a big ol’ cock, nipple biting, marking, biting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, wall sex, some gentle choking

banner made by: @kimtaehyunq​

a/n: My day for posting has finally come! This fic is twice as long as I thought it was going to be. Big, big hugs and smooches to Maggie and Tina for beta and editing this beast at the last minute for me. You two are a lifesaver and I love yall so much. And thank you again, Maggie, for recruiting me to be a part of this valentine’s day collab! I had such a great time!

Beta readers: @kimtaehyunq​ @escapingreality4now​

This is a part of the Be My Bangtanvine Collab - go check out the other fantastic writers and their stories!

“So what’s your name, anyway?” The once cute, bleach blonde male asks you as he leans in closer, his breath reeking of the IPA he is nursing. You lean away from him in your seat at the bar, rolling your eyes as you grab your drink. “What does it matter?” you say taking a big sip. “You’re not going to remember it anyways.”

“What makes you say that?” He slurs, leaning even closer to you. His eyes half closed from drunkenness and a lazy smile on his face. You push him away from you gently, a soft huff coming from his mouth as his back hits the bar.

“Because I’ve told it to you four times already?” Your tone doesn’t match the smile you give him as he lets out a laugh. You take another sip from your drink, your eyes roaming around the bar again looking for your best friend, Tina. She invited you out tonight, with the promise of some much needed girl time. Guilt tripped you with the fact that she hasn’t spent much time with you outside of work or your apartment after your breakup six months ago. You were four episodes deep into a new TV show when she came barreling through your door, taking full advantage of the spare key you had given her weeks earlier for ‘emergencies only.’ She dragged you off the couch, going on and on about how “Enough is enough. You need to get out and be around people. Not sitting here moping over some stupid guy.” 

Hauling you into your bedroom, she dolls you up in the black, sparkly bodycon dress you bought for your anniversary dinner with your ex but never got to wear. Promised that tonight was just going to be you two girls. No boys allowed. No worries of running into a certain someone because “it’s not like he ever had the time for things like this anyways.” It didn’t take long until she was whisked off to the dance floor by some silver-haired beautiful man with the plushest lips you have ever seen. You willingly let him sweep her away. You didn’t have the heart to say no, not with the absolute lovestruck look in Tina’s eyes. 

Unfortunately, it left you alone at a crowded bar top, susceptible to being bothered by drunken bar patrons looking for an easy score. You first didn’t mind when this one came up to you. He seemed charming, up until the point he was asking for your name thrice in five minutes. Your nose crinkles as he leans back in again, placing a hand on your shoulder to balance himself as he almost stumbles forward on to you. “Come on, tell me your name. I promise I’ll remember it this time.” 

Rolling your eyes, you finish your drink, readying yourself for the long back and forth once you tell him you’re not interested. You place your empty glass on the bar top and brush his hand off your shoulder. Your eyes widen as you see your drunk intruder start falling forward from his loss of balance, only then realizing you should’ve made sure you had supported his hand on something else. You brace for impact, eyes closing shut while your arms are out in front of you as you wait for him to come crashing down. Hoping you’d be able to push him off of you in time before he takes you crashing to the floor with him. But the body weight never comes, only replaced with a deep, honey rich voice that you haven’t heard in months causing your eyes to snap open. There the owner of the voice stood, his arm out in between you and your drunken company, pushing the latter back towards the bar top and away from you. “N-Namjoon?” you sputter, completely caught off guard to see your ex-boyfriend standing beside you.

“Excuse me, but I think it’s about time you left her alone,” Namjoon says, his eyes narrowing at the drunken gentleman as the sides of his mouth turn up into a tight, polite smile. He feels taller than what you remember, towering over the other bar patron by almost half a foot. 

The drunken man looks between you and Namjoon, puffing his chest as he crosses his arm, trying to make himself seem taller than he really is. “Chill, dude. We’re just talking, having a good time. What are you? Her boyfriend or something?”

You shift in your seat just slightly, Namjoon noticing out of the corner of his eye as he clears his throat, moving to place his hand on the back of your chair. “Or something…” he says, his cheeks rosy-ing just a bit as he side-eyes you again, waiting to see if you were going to interject. You stay quiet, looking at him with wide eyes as you’re still trying to process the fact that he’s here in this bar with you. What is he doing here?  

He takes your silence as permission to continue, turning his full attention back to the other man. “Thank you for keeping my friend company while I was away. Now if you excuse us, we’re going to try and enjoy the rest of our night.”

The drunken man hardens his gaze at Namjoon for a moment, slightly swaying back and forth and you wonder if he’s about to lose his balance again. He breathes out, rolling his eyes as he scoffs at Namjoon, turning to walk away from the bar. “Whatever man,” he mutters, walking away and disappearing into the crowd. 

“Everything okay, Joon?” The bartender asks, having walked up shortly after the drunken man took his leave. 

“Yeah, man. All cool. Can you get us another round?” The Bartender nods, turning to start a new round of drinks for the two of you. As soon as he walks away, Namjoon turns to you, his cheeks rosy-ing once again as he lifts one of his hands, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, hey Y/N. Interesting running in to you here.”

“What are you doing, Namjoon?” You feel your face warm up with annoyance. Never once in the year that you were together did he ever come out to a bar with you. Always too busy with work to make it out with you and your friends. But now here he is, in front of you being treated as if he’s come here his whole life.

He chuckles nervously, his feet shuffling just a bit as he clears his throat. “What do you mean?” His seemingly innocent question makes your annoyance and frustration grow even more, and you try hard to hold back the bite in your tone.

“What are you doing? Here, just now. You hate bars.”  

“I don’t hate bars. I just never had the time for them.” His voice trails off at the end, the ghost of arguments past flashing before his eyes.

You scoff at him, rolling your eyes as you cock your head to the side. “Oh, what? And you do now? Work finally not keeping you so busy anymore?” The resentment dripping from your tone makes Namjoon squirm just a bit in his spot. You’d feel good about it, knowing how uncomfortable he was feeling right now, if it wasn’t for the little fact that he just saved you from a potentially embarrassing incident. You briefly scold yourself, telling yourself to at least show him some level of gratitude before biting his head off again. 

“Sorry, that was rude--” You’re interrupted by the return of the bartender with your drinks, placing them on the bartop as Namjoon turns to grab them. You take the brief break in his attention as a chance to calm and compose yourself. Knowing his sudden appearance didn’t allow you to react the way you wanted to after seeing him again for the first time in months. You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders deflate just slightly, taking you out of your defensive mood. You allow yourself to take a better look at Namjoon, trailing your eyes from the floor up to his face. You can’t help but notice how good he looks. He looks like he just came from a work meeting, wearing dark grey slacks and a whilte long-sleeve button up. The form fitting sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, showing off the toneness of them. “Has he been working out?” you think to yourself. You look back up at his face, his dark brown hair pushed back out of it, giving you a nice view of his jawline as he’s turning back around from grabbing your drinks.

He holds out the drink to you, your eyes now on his hand as it’s holding the glass in front of you. The way his long fingers are wrapping around the glass stirs something inside your groin. Memories from long-heated nights of the two of you together coming forth in your mind. Memories of the very same hand creeping up your body and wrapping firmly around your -- “Y/N?”

Namjoon eyes you curiously, an eyebrow quickly shooting up as he looks at you and you hope he’s not able to easily read your face to know what you’re thinking about. “Jesus, Y/N. Calm yourself,” you think to yourself as you mentally facepalm.

You clear your throat, your cheeks warming as you grab the drink from his hand and take a sip. “Thanks,” you mutter, clearing your throat again as you regain your composure. “And thank you for a minute ago. I didn’t think I was ever going to get rid of that guy.” You both chuckle. Namjoon’s dimples poking out as he smiles, nodding his head as he murmurs a “you’re welcome.” Your eyes flicker to his cheeks, a ghost of a smile on your lips as you take in the sight of his adorable features. You feel a flutter in your stomach, realizing how much you missed just being able to look at him.

“So…” you start, pushing your hair behind your ear. “What are you doing here?” you ask him curiosity sinking back in as the possible reasons start popping up in your mind. Is it work related? Did he quit? Or get fired? Does he actually have time to go out now? Oh God, is he here to meet another girl?

“Actually, I’m kinda here because of work,” he says, taking a drink of his beer. 

“Of course he is,�� you think, your eyes rolling involuntarily, causing Namjoon to jump quickly into further explanation. 

“I’m out with a few people from work,” he spits out quickly, a nervous chuckle slipping past his lips at the end. “A couple of the guys asked if I wanted to go out with them a couple of weeks back and I thought it would be a nice change. That’s actually one of them over there, dancing with your friend.” He nods towards the dance floor and you turn just in time to see the silver haired dreamboat locking lips with your best friend. You turn back towards Namjoon as he continues, “I knew you liked going to places like this. Just wanted to see what I was missing.” 

You hum in response, taking a sip from your drink as you look at him. He’s staring right at you, eyes meeting yours as they glint with a deeper meaning. Could it be that he’s been just as miserable these last few months as you? “And how has that been going?” you ask him.

“Turns out what I’ve been missing is you.” You smile wide at his words, cheeks warming up as you look away. He looks down as you both let out a little laugh. 

“Well,” you say as you cross your legs in your chair, your foot now grazing the inside of his thigh. “Here I am.”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your foot, his eyes trailing up your leg and growing wide as if he’s finally taking in the form fitting dress that you’re wearing. “Here you are,” he says with a smirk. “You look amazing.”

You’re not sure how it happened exactly. The events leading up to right now, how you agreed to meet Namjoon for brunch the night after seeing him again for the first time. The multiple drinks and shots you took with him more than likely the sole perpetrator.

One minute you’re still at the bar, drinking and laughing with your ex-boyfriend. Catching up on the last few months spent apart. Next thing you know, you’re thrown up against the brick wall in the back alley behind the bar. Namjoon’s one hand on your ass as the other has both your wrists secured above your head. Your own legs wrapped tightly around his waist to help keep you from falling. The rough bricks scratch at your exposed skin, but you hardly notice, your attention stolen by Namjoon’s tongue down your throat. The definite bulge in his pants grinding against your core takes any feeling of discomfort away. You don’t remember how long you two were like that when Namjoon pulls his lips away from tours, allowing the two of you to catch a much needed breath.

After the burning in your lungs starts to subside, you lean in towards him, trying to capture his lips into another kiss, only for him to pull away again. A little pout forming on your face, causing him to chuckle. 

“Wait, wait,” he says, his chest still expanding rapidly from his heavy breaths.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he lets go of your wrist, your hands dropping to his shoulders as he unwraps your legs from around him. Still holding on to you as he helps you balance yourself on the ground. 

“Nothing, uhh…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his head as he looks away. “This, um, just wasn’t exactly the way I had planned for it to go.” He lets off a nervous chuckle as he looks back at you and you smile at him. “You see, I had this whole scenario planned in my head of what I would do if I saw you again.”

“And having me pinned up against a wall dry humping me wasn’t part of it, I’m guessing?” You cock a brow at him, smiling when you notice his cheeks growing scarlet. 

“No, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a nice surprise.” You both laugh as a cool breeze sweeps down the alleyway. You rub your arms, your body finally acknowledging the chilly temperature outside.

“I wanted to ask you out for coffee,” he says, his palms moving to rub your arms on instinct, trying to help keep you warm. “Wanted to get a chance to talk to you, ask for you to give me another chance.”

“Okay.”

He blinks at you, looking at you as if he was confused by your short answer before it hits him. “Okay?” he repeats, a smile growing on his face causing his dimples to reappear.

“To coffee,” you clarify. “There’s still a lot we need to talk about before I say yes to a second chance.”

And that’s how you found yourself here, walking into Namjoon’s favorite coffee place. The very one you avoided the last few months because you didn’t want to run into him. As you enter, you look around the cute little shop. Your face lights up with a smile when you see Namjoon already here, sitting in a corner booth with two cups of coffee on the table in front of him. As you approach, he looks over as if he sensed your presence, smiling as he stands up to greet you by giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m happy you’re here. Kinda was a little worried you’d change your mind,” he says, sitting down in the seat across from you.

“It crossed my mind.” Namjoon’s eyes grow wide and you giggle, letting him know it was just a joke. You grab the drink in front of you as Namjoon smiles shyly.

“Two scoops of sugar, a pump of caramel and toffee nut flavoring with creamer on the side, right?” He asks, the question rhetorical, as he pushes a few cups of creamer towards you.

“You remembered,” you whisper, smiling as you stirred in some creamer to your coffee. He smiles, taking a sip of his own Iced Americano. You both sit there for a few minutes, neither one of you talking. The silence being broken by the waitress coming over to take your food order. Namjoon, once again remembering your usual order and you smile wide, saying a thanks as the waitress walks away.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. I’ve missed this,” he says suddenly, catching you slightly off guard. You knew this was why you were both here, but you didn’t expect him to start the conversation so suddenly. “I really want to get back together.”

You let you a soft sigh, pushing a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know, Joonie.”

“Why not?” he asks softly, eyeing you intently as he gives you his full attention.

“We broke up for a reason, Joon,” you say as you look up to meet his eye. You see the adoration and the deep determination in his gaze. His deep, chestnut eyes pull you in as you get lost in them, almost making you forget the reasons why you broke up. Almost. 

You look away, the memory of your break up resurfacing. Your mind starts to wander to that early fall evening. Namjoon showing up to your apartment late from work. Too late for the dinner reservations you had made for your one year anniversary. You were already out of your dress, lying in bed in your pajamas when he came knocking on your front door. You had let him in, not wanting your neighbors to hear the argument that was sure to come. And came it did.

You had said something about being tired of coming second to everything with him. How he spent more time with work and not with you. Always going in early and staying late, never making time for you unless it was for sex. He countered with how important his work was to him, how you said you admire that about him when you first got together. How he was doing this to secure his future, a future that he saw with you. This was his passion, and he didn’t get how you couldn’t understand that. He didn’t get what the big deal was that night, simply forgetting what day it was. Told you that if it was that serious to you, if you really couldn’t put up with his shit anymore, to just break up with him.

So you did. The moment the words fell from your mouth, so did the tears. Namjoon just stood there in the middle of your living room staring at you. Tears still falling harder from your eyes as he turned, snatching his work bag from the floor and walking back out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him. No rebuttal, no attempt to fight for you back. He just left. No communication or to be seen again until last night.

“I know,” he says, his voice bringing you back to the present. ”I had a lot that I needed to work on. I neglected you, put more effort in my job than our relationship and I know it took a toll that night. I took you for granted.”

‘It wasn’t just that… That night was our --” you start softly before he interrupts you.

“Our one year anniversary, I know.” He lets out a huff and he rubs his face with his hands. You look up at him, blinking owlishly. “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I realized it the moment I left and I should’ve turned back around. I should’ve fought harder to keep you.”

“You didn’t fight at all,” you state meekly, your tone just above a whisper. Namjoon looks down at the table softly nodding his head.

“I was an idiot. And too stubborn to know what I had.” You both sit there for a minute, staring at your own coffee drinks, not saying a word. You went over his words, happy to hear him admit the things he faulted in your relationship. A little flower of hope blossoming in your heart that just maybe you two could work things out.

“Why now?” you ask, breaking the silence. “What made you want to try again?”

“You remember the producer position at work that I wanted?” He looks up at you. You nod your head, remembering how he used to talk so passionately about that being his dream job. “Well, one of the producers left, allowing for a position to come available. I got it.” 

A huge smile grows on your face as you reach and grab his hand, not even realizing you had done it. “Congratulations, Joonie! That’s so awesome!” 

He smiles back at you, covering your hand with his other as he looks down where they are joined. “Thank you,” he says with a smile. “It was a bittersweet moment when I had gotten the news. Of course, I was happy when I got it, but I had no one to celebrate with. And the only person I wanted there was you.”

You feel your heart swell, your smile only growing bigger as you look at him. He gives your hand a squeeze, smiling back at you before continuing, “I realized that if I wanted you back, I was going to have to change. I want to be better for you.”

“It wasn’t just you who needed to change, Joonie.” You give his hands a squeeze back as he looks back up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I could’ve been more understanding. Maybe we can work on it together.”

His eyes light up, growing wide for just a second as he sits up in his chair, leaning forward into the table towards you. “Yeah?” he asks, his tone dripping with hope and enthusiasm.

You giggle, smiling at his reaction. “Yeah. Let’s give it another shot.”

You spent the rest of the brunch date eating your own meals and talking. Outlining the issues you two needed to work on, setting rules and guidelines for trying again. The conversation carries over and continuing on your walk home Namjoon joins you on. Namjoon promises to make more time for you, you promise to be patient and a little more understanding. You also set the rule of no sex, at least until you both are confident that you two can make this work. The moment you state the rule, Namjoon lets out a whine, causing a giggle to escape your lips from his cute reaction.

“No sex?!” he exclaims, as you enter the door to your apartment complex causing an older couple to turn and give you two a scolding glare. “Not even fooling around?”

“No sex,” you say after shooshing him, giggling again as the older couple walk into their apartment. “Kissing is fine, but no sex. Not even fooling around.” 

“But if I recall, sex was never part of our problems.” Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning up against the wall as you make it to your front door.

“Namjoon!” You slap his arm, playfully glaring at him and scolding him as you dig for your keys out of your purse. 

“I’m just kidding! Kind off...:” he says, winking at you as you unlock your door. “Fine, no sex. I can do that. It’s worth it to prove to you that I’ve changed.” You flick on the lights to your apartment, placing your purse on the side table by the door as you turn to look back at Namjoon. He’s now standing in your doorway, leaning up on the door frame as he looks down at you, smiling. “So I guess I’ll call you later then.”

You give him a nod, once again finding yourself mesmerized by his presence and unable to speak. You never thought you’d be here with him again, having him drop you off at your doorstep after a date. He leans in towards you, his hand rising to cup your face as his lips meet yours for a soft kiss. Your body is electrified with the feel of his lips on yours and you feel yourself melt into his touch. He deepens the kiss just briefly before pulling away. You fall forward slightly, your lips still puckered as the chase after his, wanting more. Namjoon smiles, a knowing look in his eye as he walks backward away from you. “I’ll see you later, baby.” He doesn’t even wait for your response as he turns around, walking back down the hall and out into the street.

“Tease…” you mutter as you close the door behind you. Your fingers brushing your lips slightly as you smile, still feeling the softness of his lips on yours.

“You agreed to WHAT now?” Tina shouts as she follows you into the breakroom at work.  Eyes wide as she watches you pour yourself a cup of coffee before the Monday morning staff meeting, having just finished going over your weekend events after she had left you alone at the bar. “Are you out of your mind? Why would you agree to a second chance with him?” she asks, her loud tone causing passing coworkers to peak into the break room as they pass by.

“Can you chill out?” You say to her, walking past her and back out to the hallway. She follows you, walking side by side as you both make your way to the conference room. “He’s changed, Tina. He’s recognized the areas that he needs to work on and has promised to do so, together. Why shouldn’t I give him another chance?” 

You enter the conference room, finding two empty seats at the large oval table adjacent to each other and you both sit down. One by one, your fellow co-workers file in, filling up the table. “Fine,” Tina huffs, rolling her eyes as she leans back into her seat. “But I’m watching him. I won’t say I told you so, but I will be the first one to kick his ass if he breaks your heart again.” 

You give her a smile, taking a sip of your coffee as you wait for the meeting to get started, jumping just a bit when Tina sits up quickly and grabs your arm, smiling when she turns to you. “Oh! Remind me to fill you in on my weekend with Jimin. Over lunch. My treat.”

You snicker at her, wiping the little droplets of your coffee that fell on the table. “You owe me lunch for abandoning me on our girls night anyways. But not today. Namjoon is taking me to a cute little sushi spot near his office.”

“Wow, look at Mr. Work-a-holic finally taking a break from busy, busy schedule,” she mutters under her breath, followed up by a soft “Ow” from the light kick you give her under the table. 

“He’s trying, Tina,” you whisper to her as your boss walks in, seating himself at the head of the table and kicks off the meeting.

“Right, okay, sorry. I’ll give him another chance too.”

Lunch time sneaks up on you, too busy being nose deep into an article for the magazine you work for, putting in the finishing touches before sending it to your editors to get ready for the February Issue. Your phone buzzing on your desk alerts you to the time of day. You check it to find a text from Namjoon, announcing his arrival at the front of your office building. 12:30 PM on the dot. You lock your work laptop, waving bye to Tina as you place your phone into your purse and head to the elevator bay. Once down in the lobby you quickly walk outside, spotting Namjoon leaning up against a taxi waiting for you. You wrap your arms around his neck, greeting him with a kiss before he opens the car door for you, following you into the back of the cab.

The little sushi place he takes you to is delicious. Being your first time there, Namjoon orders a whole spread. Each roll consists of something you like, from tempura shrimp to avocado in the middle. Some rolls topped with eel. You eat your fill, feeling satisfyingly full once the two of you are walking out of the little restaurant. 

“What time do you need to be back?” Namjoon asks you, taking your hand into his as you walk down the street.

“Maybe not for another hour? I’m already done with my article, so I’m in no rush to need to get back.” You walk alongside him with a smile on your face, the feel of his hand in yours bringing you a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Would you want to stop by the studio with me then? I got something I want to show you.” You smile at him, nodding your head as he smiles back, quickening his steps as he pulls you toward his office building. 

Arriving at Namjoon’s work, you were excited to finally step into the world that had preoccupied so much of his time when you were together. You had been here multiple times in the year you were with him, coming here to drop off food for your overworking boyfriend. Never making it past the lobby desk until now. You follow him through the lobby, past the front desk and towards the elevator. You turn towards the long hallway you remember he would appear from during your prior visits when he instead guides you to the elevators, hopping on to an open cab and pressing the button for the 5th floor.

You pull your phone out of your purse, sending Tina a quick text saying that you might be late coming back to the office. After a few exchanges of where you were, she asks you to say hi to Jimin for her before you slip your phone back into your purse and turn towards Namjoon. “Since when did you move off the first floor?” You ask as the elevator continues to move upwards.

He smiles at you, a glint of excitement in his eye as the cab stops, the doors opening to the new floor. He leads you out of the elevator, his hand pushing gently on the small of your back. “That’s what I want to show you. Remember that promotion? It comes with some new perks.” He continues to lead you down the hallway and you look around, taking in the new scenery as Namjoon stops you in front of a closed door.

“Y/N!” You hear your name being called from the other end of the hall. You turn to look at the newcomer, a dark haired man jogging down the hall with his arms open towards you and Namjoon. His wide, heart shaped smile bringing an equally wide one to your face. 

“Hobi!” You giggle as he wraps you in a big bear hug, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

“It’s good to see you again,” you say as he steadies you back on the ground.

“Likewise! It's nice to see you and Joon together again. He’s been a real stick in the mud while you guys were apart.”

You let out another giggle as Namjoon glares at his co-worker, opening the door and guiding you in. “Thank you for that, Hoseok,” he mutters, following the two of you into the room.

You take a look around the room, various recording equipment litters the room. There’s a lone couch against the wall opposite a large desk fitted with mixing equipment and a computer. You watch as Hobi plops down on it, pulling out his phone as you continue to observe the room.  A guy around your age with mint colored hair sits in front of the computer and mixing equipment, headphones on as he’s bopping his head up and down to whatever is playing. You see the ‘Recording in progress’ sign lit up and realize he’s in the middle of recording someone. Namjoon closes the door behind him, walking over to pat the mint haired man on the back. The mint haired man looks up, his features growing into a gummy smile as he looks at Namjoon, taking his headphones off his head and pressing a button on the switchboard in front of him. 

“Ah, Joon. Just in time. Jimin’s finishing up one of his tracks for his debut,” the mint haired man says, standing to give Namjoon a quick hug before pressing another button on the switchboard and speaking into a mic, “Jimin, come on out.”

“Jimin’s in there?” You ask without thinking. Realizing you have yet to officially meet the man that swept your best friend away on your girl’s night out. The mint haired man and Namjoon look over at you and you realize you interrupted their conversation, causing your cheeks to flush slightly.

“Yeah, he is,” the mint haired man says to you. “Big fan?”

Hobi snorts from the couch, “Watch out, Joon. Might have some competition.”

You smile while you shake your head. “No, um, he’s kind of dating my best friend.” You watch as his eyebrows shoot up, nodding his head as Namjoon places his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Let me not be rude,” Namjoon says as he gestures between you two. “Yoongi, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Yoongi. My coworker and fellow producer.” 

Yoongi reaches out to shake your hand, giving you another gummy smile as he addresses you. “Nice to meet you, so you’re the girl Namjoon has been lovesick about. Heard all about you. Nice to finally put a face to a name.” He gives Namjoon a nudge with his shoulder, the both of you looking at each other with matching cheeks as a door on the other side of the room opens up. A familiar silver haired man walking out, his unforgettably plush lips spread wide into a smile.

“Sup guys. Ah, Y/N. Good to finally meet you,” he says, walking over to you and giving you a hug. It catches you by surprise for a minute before you return it. Jimin breaks away from you at the sound of Namjoon clearing his throat, giving you a wink as he moves to sit by Hoseok on the couch.

“Anyways,” Namjoon says as he walks over to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I just wanted to introduce you guys before I showed her my office.”

“You have an office now --” 

“Oh, Joojoo, I thought I heard you in here.” You were cut off by a tall, petite girl who just entered the room. The pencil skirt and blouse she was wearing a little too short and form fitting to be considered professional. You look at her, noticing how pretty she was and the way she was looking at Namjoon, all wide eyed and dreamy. You instantly become annoyed, too focused on the awful nickname she just used to notice the brief look of distaste on Namjoon’s face at the sound of it. You instinctively lean more into Namjoon, crossing your arms as the new girl continues to talk, barely aware of your presence. “Joojoo, I need help getting something down from the supply closet. Can you help me?” She coos while batting her eyelashes. Her eyes move from his face to the arm around your shoulder, clicking her tongue against her teeth as she looks you up and down. “Whose this?”

“Oh, Areum. This is Joon’s girl, Y/N. Y/N, this is our floor assistant, Areum,” Hobi jumps in, quick to the introductions with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Areum looks at you, eyebrow raised in confusion. “Y/N. Like, your ex-girlfriend, Y/N?”

“We’re working things out,” you snap, wrapping one of your arms around Namjoon’s waist as he looks down at you, raising an eyebrow of his own. A ghost of a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips. 

“Whatever,” the girl mutters before turning to Namjoon again, an annoyingly bright smile adorning her face. “Joojoo, could you help me?”

“I got it!” Yoongi shouts, already moving past the group of you and out the door. Areum lets out a soft “Oh” as she turns to follow, briefly looking back at you and Namjoon before exiting the room.

Your lips twitch up in a smirk as you turn to look up at Namjoon. “So, what’s this office you were talking about?” 

“Yeah, Joon. Why don’t you show Y/N your office,” Hobi teases as he gets up from the couch, following after Yoongi and the office assistant. Namjoon sputters and you let out a giggle, grabbing his hand and walking out of the recording room. 

Namjoon regains his composure, leading you back down the hallway, Jimin following closely behind, taking the chance to strike up conversation. “So what do you guys say to a double date this weekend? Give us a chance to get to know each other and have some fun. Tina talks very highly about you, Y/N.”

“That sounds great. What do you think, Joonie?” You ask just as Namjoon stops in front of another door, digging a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocking it. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he says, flicking on the lights to his office. The three of you barely enter into the little space when Hoseok shows up at the door, looking straight at Namjoon.

“Hey Joon, looks like we need your help after all. Yoongi severely underestimated how high up this box was.” Hobi lets out a laugh as he walks back down the hallway. Namjoon turns to you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead as he tells you he’ll be right back before slipping out the door way. 

You let out a little huff as soon as he’s out of sight. “Has she ever heard of a step ladder,” you mutter under your breath as you take a look around Namjoons office, his ever growing Kaws figurine collection decorating the shelves on his walls. 

You hear Jimin snicker and you jump just a bit as you had forgotten he was there. “We have a step ladder, actually. Areum, tends to misplace it a lot,” he says, air quoting around the words misplace it as he rolls his eyes. “She has the biggest crush on Namjoon. Tends to always need something from the top shelves just to have an excuse to talk to him.”

Your face contorts into a scowl, causing Jimin to laugh and throw his hands up in defense. “Don’t worry. Namjoon barely even notices. He’s always been wrapped up in his work. Or talking about you. Yoongi, however… Well, he has it bad.”

You nod a little, taking comfort in Jimin’s reassurance. He gives you a small wave bye as he leaves you alone in Namjoon’s office. You sit down in the empty desk chair, noticing a picture frame by his laptop. You pick it up, recognizing the picture to be one of your favorites of you and Namjoon. A cute selfie you took in the comfort of his apartment a few months into you two dating. You place it back on the desk, humming gently in content as you push the brief incident with the office assistant to the back of your mind. Reminding yourself that you promised to be understanding and you try not to dwell on if there was anything there that you would need to worry about.

Your first week back with Namjoon was nothing short of amazing. You were amazed and surprised by how attentive he is to you, fully prepared to expect him to still be busy with work, especially with a recent promotion. But, alas, he is keeping true to his promise so far. The two of you spent more time together in the past week than you did in the last few months you were together. The both of you have been making great progress with the things you both promised to work on. Holding true to the rules and guidelines, you had set out, the no sex rule included.

You’d be lying if you said it hasn’t been hard to not break that rule. Namjoon being right when he said that sex was never a problem between the two of you. It didn’t help that the both of you gained pure enjoyment out of teasing the hell out of each other. Between the gentle brushes of his hand across your ass or the strategic placement of your hand on his thigh when you’re sitting next to him, it is easy to get one another flustered. It is equally just as hard to keep each other’s hormones at bay. 

No other time have you two come close to breaking that rule than you have tonight. Laid out on your back on your living room couch, Namjoon on top of you. The both of you in the middle of a heated makeout session. His hand up your shirt while yours is on his ass, pushing him closer into you as he grinds his clothed bulge into your core. You know you should stop. No fooling around being part of the rules you both had set, but it all just feels too damn good to stop. Your living room is filled with the soft sounds of your shared moans, the movie Namjoon brought over for your night in playing softly but forgotten in the background. You both had opted for a night in instead of going out to dinner. Your planned double date on Saturday and the fact that you had to work late helping your fellow writers finish their articles playing a big part in the decision making. Namjoon had picked up takeout and a movie for the two of you, waiting at your apartment for you to get home to spend as much time as possible with you tonight before he would have to leave to go to sleep. 

What started out as an innocent foot rub after your dinner has speedily turned into a tickle fight. That very tickle fight quickly escalated to the situation you find yourself in now; Namjoon’s tongue wrestling with yours as he cups your breast with his hand, finding your nipple hidden by your bra and giving it a quick pinch. You let out a muffled moan, one he quickly swallows with his lips still on yours. You slide your other hand down, reaching in between you two to grab a hold of the button on his jeans. You almost have it undone when Namjoon suddenly pulls away from you, grabbing your wrist as he breathlessly asks you to hold on. He pulls his hand from out under your shirt and lets go of your wrist as he sits back on the couch, running his hand through his disheveled hair to try and put some of it back in place.

“We should probably chill out a bit. Don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves,” he says, scooting just a bit away from you to give you room to sit up on your side of the couch. You stay as you are, looking at him with a pout on your lips as he chuckles at you. “Besides, I probably should head out soon. Need to run into the office tomorrow before our date.”

He stands from the couch, holding his hand out to help you up and you take it, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stand up in front of him. “Why don’t you just spend the night? Leave for work from here in the morning?” you ask in between kisses. He chuckles at you again, grabbing your hands from around his neck and walking you to the door. 

“And break the rules you clearly set out for us? I would never,” he teases you, laughing at you as you let out a whine. “I’ll see you tomorrow baby. I’ll let you know when I get home,” he reassures you as he slips his shoes on and opens your front door. He turns back to you, slinking an arm around your waist to catch your lips in a deep kiss as he pulls you towards him. He releases your lips, leaving you breathless once again as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “And we’ll continue this later.” He smiles at you, giving you a wink and another quick kiss before releasing you completely and closing the door behind him. 

You let out a little huff. “Tease…” you mutter as you smile, shaking your head as you lock up the door before turning back towards your living room, getting ready to clean up and go to bed.

The double date with Jimin and Tina went better than you expected. The whole mini argument you had with Tina in her apartment as the two of you got ready proving to be inane. Her plans of giving Namjoon the third degree to check to see if he’s really changed never came to fruition, much to your relief. The moment the two boys arrived at her doorstep to pick the both of you up, all thoughts of interrogation were forgotten, her attention solely on Jimin and Jimin alone.

The steakhouse you attend for dinner is delicious. The drinks you all share help keep the conversation light and entertaining. You are happy with the way work has stayed away as a topic for the evening. The only exception was the mention of Hoseok’s mixtape release party that is taking place the following Wednesday. When leaving the restaurant, talks about needing to do this again came up. You mention a new Italian restaurant that just opened up down the street that you all should try next, if you guys were ever lucky enough to get a hard to book reservation. 

Namjoon holds your hand the entire cab ride back to your apartment. Not much conversation taking place due to the numerous glasses of wine at dinner making you feel warm and sleepy while leaning up against him. You nearly doze off before you make it to your apartment, Namjoon nudging your shoulder slightly to let you know of your arrival. He’s still holding your hand as he walks you to your door, making sure you were safely inside before letting go. He stands in your doorway, smiling at you as you brace yourself against the wall to balance as you take off your heels.

“What are you smiling about?” You tease him, crossing your arms as you walk back towards him after removing your footwear.

“I’m just happy to be doing this with you again. Walking you home, making sure you get here safe.” You can’t help the smile that graces your face from his confession, leaning up on to your tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his lips.

“So,” he starts, still smiling at you as he hovers over you in your door frame. “Hobi’s release party is this Wednesday.”

“So I heard,” you cooed, your heart warming at the flash of his dimples from his smiling growing wider from your teasing.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” he asks you, pausing momentarily before continuing, “As my date.”

You smile wider, leaning up to give him another kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next few days flew by in a breeze. You weren’t able to see much of Namjoon other than lunch breaks or a quick dinner date as he was helping Hobi and the company prepare for the release party. You and Tina spent your free evenings shopping for the perfect dresses. Finding two cute matching bodycons with keyhole cut outs and heels to match. Wednesday evening comes before you know it. Namjoon had ordered a car to pick you and Tina up, him needing to be at the venue early to help get everything set up. Not wanting you to feel rushed, he arranges for your transportation to drop you off right at the venue doors, allowing you and Tina to enjoy a full red carpet experience for the release party.

The party venue is located at one of the nicest hotels in town, taking place in one of the ballrooms fitted with a DJ booth, a mini dance floor, and a well stocked open bar. Namjoon is there to greet you at the door, catching the eye of every woman (and man) walking by him with the way he’s fitted in his well-tailored suit. His hair is pushed back, styled out of his face. You can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you look him up and down, walking towards him. Knowing that this beautiful man is all yours. The moment he notices you walking towards the ballroom, his smile matches yours, if not, brighter. His mindset also matches yours as he shamelessly looks you up and down as you grow closer.

“Hey Handsome,” you say to him, throwing your arm around his neck as you give him a kiss.

“Good evening, baby. You’re looking exceptionally beautiful tonight.” He kisses you back, slipping his hand around your waist. 

“How nice of you to say, Joonie. I didn’t think you noticed,” Tina teases from beside you. Namjoon rolls his eyes, giving you another kiss before taking your hand in his. 

“You look exceptionally beautiful as well, Tina,” he says, gesturing his hand towards the inside of the ballroom. Tina gives him a thank you before winking at you and walking forwards into the ballroom, now on a mission to find Jimin. You giggle, following behind her and Namjoon as he leads you toward the bar.

After grabbing a round of drinks, Namjoon walks you and Tina over to your reserved table for the evening. Jimin is already sitting down, snacking on a small plate full of the various finger foods being served around the event. You barely sit down yourself when the petite office assistant, Areum, pops up out of nowhere, instantly clinging herself onto Namjoon’s arm. The dress she’s wearing contains too many cut outs and too much sheer covering to your liking, the lack of actual fabric barely classifying it as a dress instead of lingerie. Her heels, too tall to be considered comfortable to walk in, let alone stand in, you know we’re chosen to accentuate her barely covered (and annoyingly perky) ass. She doesn’t pay you or anyone other table occupant any mind, her focus only on Namjoon, much to your annoyance. Batting her eyelashes, she addresses Namjoon, her tone too high pitched to be tolerable, making the use of her god awful nickname for Namjoon sound even worse. “Joojoo, the DJ is having issues with connecting his equipment. Can you help us?”

He sighs, giving her a polite smile as he responds, “Sure.” She let’s go of his arm and you swear she gives you a smirk before turning and running off. You glare at her retreating backside. An involuntary scoff escaping past your lips. Namjoon hears it, turning to you with a questioning brow raised in your direction. A smirk, once again, dancing on the corner of his lips. 

“You okay, baby?” He asks, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out on his face, always finding it cute when you show little signs of jealousy. 

“Nothing, she’s just very… touchy.” You take a sip of your champagne, trying to wash away the bitterness in your mouth. Namjoon chuckles at you as he leans down to hover over you, one hand braced on the table and the other on the back of your chair to steady himself.

“She’s just friendly, baby,” he says, leaning in closer to rub his nose on the tip of yours. 

“Yeah, to you,” you mumble, Namjoon’s shit-eating grin finally breaking loose on his face as he laughs. 

“You’re cute,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You got nothing to worry about, baby. I only have eyes for you.” He gives you a long, soft kiss on your lips before standing back up. Telling you he’ll be right back, he disappears into the growing crowd toward what you assume is the direction of the DJ booth. 

Feeling eyes on you, you look to your left to see Tina observing you, a mischievous smirk on her lips as she meets your gaze. You let out a sigh, jumping to a defensive tone as you try and predict what she’s thinking. “It’s a work party, Tina. It’s expected that he’s going to have to do some work.” 

She shakes her head slowly at you as she leans forward, placing her elbow on the table and propping her hand under her chin. “Oh no, I’m wondering when you’re going to put that in its place.” Her reference is vague, but you know exactly what, or rather who, she’s talking about. 

“I’m not. I don’t need to. Joonie says there’s nothing to worry about so there’s nothing to worry about,” you state matter-of-factly. Hoping your tone sounds convincing enough to end her “hoe-be-gone” plotting before it starts. You just don’t know who you were trying to convince more: Tina or You. 

“If you say so,” Tina sing-songs, leaning back into her seat and into Jimin. Jimin gives her a quick peck on her temple and smiles at her. 

“You little instigator,” you hear Jimin whisper to her before catching her lips in a real kiss. You roll your eyes slightly, smiling softly as you scan the now crowded ballroom, trying to spot Namjoon amongst the sea of people. 

You contemplate for a minute on whether you should actually say something to Areum. You know you’ll be able to control yourself and your tone. Know you’ll be able to conduct yourself as polite, but firm. She just seems like the type to you that would cause a scene when she doesn’t get her way and you don’t want to be involved in anything that might ruin Hobi’s special night. Besides, you promised to be more understanding and trusting Namjoon on this falls under that umbrella. So you take another sip of your drink, swallowing down the sweet tasting liquid, hoping the bitter taste of your growing anxiety goes down with it.

The rest of the night followed the common theme of Namjoon being swept away by various staff members seeking his help. It never failed that once he found his way back to you, someone else was there a few minutes later to take him again. He apologizes to you every time, his kisses growing harder and deeper with each departure. You reassure him each time that it is fine, and really it is. You are enjoying yourself, spending the majority of the night with Jimin, Tina, and various alcoholic drinks. Near the end of the night, Namjoon was finally able to spend a little more time with you. Grabbing you from your reserved table and walking you over to meet his boss and to say bye to Hoseok before you leave. 

As you approach the two gentlemen, Hobi’s eyes light up the moment he sees you. 

The second you reach him, he’s wrapping his arms around you in a big hug, placing a quick peck on your cheek. His heart shaped smile on full display as he addresses you, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath as he talks. “Y/N! Thank you for coming tonight. What would I do without my favorite fan?” he slurs, his rosy cheeks pushing into his eyes as he continues to smile at you.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Hobi,” you coo, giggling as you back out of his hug. As you stand back in your place next to Namjoon, you turn to the other man, Hobi and Namjoon’s boss, and introduce yourself. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” he says. “Sorry, I’ve been pulling your boyfriend away from you most of the night.”

“He’s no--” you start before quickly redirecting your response. You feel Namjoon’s shoulders deflate just slightly beside you and you feel a twinge of guilt. He isn’t your boyfriend. Not yet, at least. But isn’t that exactly what you two are working back towards? “It’s okay,” you start again. “He’s been a hot commodity tonight and a hard worker. I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

Namjoon looks at you, a quick ‘blink-and-you'll-miss-it’ flash of surprise colors his features before the corners of his lips turn upwards into a smile.

“A hard worker he most certainly is. I’m going to have to also apologize in advance for the next week. We’re in the finishing stages of our next trainee’s debut and going to need all hands on deck for it.” The boss gives you a big smile, probably thinking it would lessen the blow of his news.

“Yeah, Jimin’s debut is next!” Hobi chimes in, his voice carrying a little too loud due to his intoxicated state.

“That’s right,” their boss confirms. “I promise to try and have him free by Valentine’s day.” The boss lets out a hearty laugh, slapping Namjoon on the shoulder before walking away. Excusing himself to thank the other guest for coming to the event.

“Valentine’s day…” you hear Namjoon mutter softly. You turn to look up at him, noticing his wide-eyed look as he stares into space. You grab his arm, looping your hand around it and lightly squeezing, bringing him back out of his head. His eyes focusing on you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’ve been busy and I forgot it was coming up, too. We got a week, we’ll figure something out,” you try to reassure him, forming a soft smile on his face to try and show that it was really okay. 

“Yeah,” Namjoon responds, his tone apprehensive as he rubs the back of his neck. Taking in his demeanor, the little seed of worry from earlier starts to blossom slowly in your mind. You open your mouth to say something, ask him if he’s okay when the call of your name breaks interrupts you. Looking behind you, you see Tina approaching you and Namjoon.

“Hey, you ready to go? Jimin had our car pulled around up front for us,” she asks, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

“Yeah, sure,” you say slowly, turning your head to look back at Namjoon. The unspoken question on whether you guys need to talk lingering between you. It goes unanswered and any signs of apprehension or anxiety are gone from his face. His prize-winning, charming smile is the only thing you see.

“Go ahead. I have to stay and help clean up anyways. I’ll call you later, yeah?” He gives you a quick kiss, waving bye to Tina as he walks away, disappearing into the thinning crowd. 

His departure doesn’t sit right with you. Something about his behavior seems off and it only adds to your growing anxiety, much to your annoyance. You try to shake it off, following Tina out of the ballroom and into the lobby. Stopping abruptly, you realize you’ve forgotten something, calling out to Tina as you turn back towards the ballroom. “Hey, I forgot my phone and purse on the table. I’ll meet you in the car.”

Running back in to grab your purse, you notice Namjoon standing over by the bar talking to an older gentleman. You take a step towards him, planning to ask him if everything was okay before heading back to the car, only to stop once the older man steps to the side out of the way of a server. Revealing the annoying little office assistant clinging to Namjoon’s arm. You freeze, watching as Namjoon shakes the older gentleman’s hand before the same man places a kiss on top of the little leech’s head and takes his departure from the group. Namjoon, smiles down at Areum, his dimples adorning his cheeks and you immediately feel sick. You turn around, walking swiftly out of the hotel before they’re able to see you, reaching the car and hopping quickly into the seat next to Tina. She glances over at you curiously before looking back at her phone. “Everything okay?” she asks you as she begins typing away, probably sending a text to Jimin.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just… I thought it was about to rain.” You give her a forced chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense the lie in your tone. She hums in response. The car starts to pull off into traffic. You turn, looking back at the hotel as it fades into the distance. Hoping fiercely that what you think you saw and what was actually going on is just a big misunderstanding.

You barely hear from Namjoon the rest of the week. The weekend being no different. The “all hands on deck” call to finish up Jimin’s mixtape for his debut is the only explanation you receive from Namjoon to excuse his absence. Majority of your communication is exchanged over text messages, but even those were slowly growing few and far in between. Your daily lunch dates are replaced with specially picked Uber eats orders sent to your office. The sentiment is there but you couldn’t help but feel like he is avoiding you. The scene of Areum clinging to Namjoon’s arm replaying over and over in your mind. “Who was that man?” and “Why was Namjoon smiling at her after meeting him?” were the main questions plaguing your mind. The constant thought of maybe you DO have something to worry about causes a big negative shift in your mood that you’re unable to hide the longer you go without talking to Namjoon.

Tina notices the change in your attitude at work on Monday. Not-so subtly mentioning how your negative energy was killing her vibe. You grumble an apology and she spends most of the day trying to help bring you out of your sour mood. 

“Maybe he really has been busy. His boss did say he was going to be taking up a lot of his time this week.” You let out a huff, knowing what she was saying was more than likely true, but it still didn’t make you feel any better. Noticing no change in your mood, she continues. “If it helps to know, I haven’t been able to see or talk to Jimin much, either. We can only hope that they’re making good progress and they’ll be done soon. That way we can get our men back,” she chirps, her voice going up at the end to try and drive the point of positivity with her words. 

You feel bad, but the news of her not hearing from Jimin just as much does make you feel better. At least you knew you weren’t the only one and made the idea that they’re both just really, really busy easier to accept as the truth. You look over at her and give her a small smile, “Thank you. For trying to help me feel better. It’s just… I can’t help but feel like this is all too familiar territory.” Among other things. You follow up in your head, not wanting to voice it out loud and carry on that conversation here at work.

“I thought you said you were going to try and be more understanding,” Tina states, her comment catching you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” you stammer, blinking owlishly at her as she rolls her eyes at you. She sits up straighter in her seat as if she was preparing to give you a presentation.

“You were right, Y/N. Namjoon’s changed. He’s trying. Even I’ve been able to see that,” she says to you, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “You promised that you would be more patient and understanding. Now’s the time to show that you’re trying too.”

You let out a sigh. You knew she was right and didn’t really want to admit it. You did promise to be more understanding and you definitely weren’t doing that right now. That realization does nothing to fix your mood. Only changing the reason why it was still so sour.

Tina notices the change, knowing you swapped to beating yourself up. A smile breaks out on her face as an idea blooms in her mind, reaching over and grabbing your hand in excitement as she details it to you.

“Let’s have a Galentine’s Day this weekend. The boys will probably still be busy, and if they finish up early and are able to spend time with us again, we can cancel it. Easy peasy.” She looks at you, her eyes begging you to say yes as her excitement courses through her. As if her hold on your hand was a conduit, you feel her excitement transfer to you. The infectious happiness in her smile breaking through your negative demeanor and causing a smile to form on your face. You couldn’t find it in you to turn down her offer. Her squeal of excitement rings throughout the office the moment you tell her yes. 

The thought of not having to spend Valentine’s Day alone does perk you up a little. The background chatter of Tina planning out your Galentine’s day helping you get through the rest of the work day. Come clock out time, you head out of the office and make your way towards the train for home. You feel your phone buzz, alerting you of a new text message. Checking your notifications, you see that it’s from Namjoon. His name and the context of the tweet bring a smile to your face. His short text of “Miss you” with the kissy face emoji gives you a small burst of motivation to keep the promise that you had made a few weeks earlier. “Patience and understanding. You got nothing to worry about,” you tell yourself, sending back a matching message to Namjoon before slipping your phone back into your pocket.

The rest of the week drags. The still brief only-over-text conversations with Namjoon and Tina’s absence from the office due to a sinus infection being two things that have contributed to the week feeling like it’s taking forever and a day to move along. 

Friday morning comes and you already feel an instant boost of happiness when you see Tina at her desk as you walk into the office. You skip to your desk, placing your computer bag down and taking out your laptop as you strike up a conversation with your best friend.

“Good morning! And welcome back! So I was thinking… There’s this cute little candy shop over on Cherry Lane that we should order some sweets from for our Galentine’s day.” After not hearing a response, you look up from your desk. Tina’s brow furrowing in confusion as she looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t Namjoon tell you?” she asks, her question making the anxiety you’ve been pushing down all week start to instantly crawl back up your throat.

“Tell me what?” you respond slowly, pulling your phone out to see if you might have missed any phone calls or text messages from Namjoon. Nothing.

“Jimin said they finished everything up on Wednesday. The mixtape is done.” You feel the color drain from your face. Tina’s eyes grow wide as she notices and quickly adds on to her news. “But maybe he meant HE was finished with everything. Joon and Yoongi probably still have things to finish up on the production end.”

You nod your head meekly. Forcing yourself to breathe in and out as you try not to jump to conclusions and hope that her assumption is right. “Yeah, maybe.” Your voice comes out squeakier than you like. A brief flash of pity shows in Tina’s eyes as she gives you a soft smile. Clearing your throat, you straighten up in your chair, plastering a fake smile on your face as you start on your work. “No, you’re right. He’s probably just finishing up the rest of his part. I’ll probably hear from him later today.” 

Tina nods her head slowly, turning back to her computer as she gets back to work. You struggle to maintain your smile throughout the rest of the day, doing your best to not to show a break in your mask every time Tina snuck a quick glance your way.

The end of the workday finally arrives and still no word from Namjoon. You skip out of the office the first chance you get, waiting for Tina to have walked away from her desk so you could sneak out without her noticing. You knew she would ask about Namjoon and it wasn’t a conversation you were really wanting to have right now. Walking towards the subway, you decide to stop at the Chinese restaurant along the way to pick up some takeout, not really in the mood to try and fix something at home. After placing your to-go order, you take a seat in the lobby, scrolling through your phone when you hear someone call your name. Looking up from your phone, you’re surprised to see Yoongi standing in front of you, having just exited the bathroom on the other side of the lobby. “I thought that was you. Picking up some food for you and Joon?”

“Ah, no. Just me.” You smile back. “Are you heading back to the office? This was a long way for a dinner break. This mixtape must be working you two into the ground.”

Yoongi shakes his head, the slightest hint of confusion painting his features. “Actually, I live around here. Just grabbing a bite to eat with some friends. We actually finished up on Wednesday. Didn’t Namjoon tell you?”

Your eyes go wide for a second as you feel your heart drop straight to your stomach. You force a closed lip smile on your face, trying to fight back the anger and frustration rising in you. “Yeah, right. Sorry, must have slipped my mind.”

Yoongi goes to say something else, only to be cut off by the restaurant host calling out your name, announcing that your to-go order was ready. You jump up from your seat quickly, grabbing your food from the host and turn to rush out the door. “It was good to see you, Yoongi. Have a great night!” You run out the door before he can respond. Once again trying to avoid an uncomfortable conversation revolving around Namjoon.

The moment you make it around the block, you stop right above the subway entrance. Grabbing your phone out of your purse, you quickly dial Namjoon’s number, taking deep breaths in and out of your noise to try and calm the boiling anger inside of you. The phone rings twice before the call is picked up. You’re ready to start your onslaught of the many questions that you have the moment he speaks, but the voice you hear at the other end knocks the breath straight out of your lungs. The perky, high pitched voice unmistakably belonging to the one person you would have never thought to be answering Namjoon’s phone. Areum. “Hello, Joojoo’s phone.” Her sickening sweet tone makes your stomach churn and you take in another deep breath to keep yourself from vomiting.

“Where’s Namjoon?” You applaud yourself for how level you keep your tone, not wanting to let her know that the very fact that she answered his phone bothers you.

“He’s busy. Can I take a message?” God, you really don’t like her.

“Just let him know that his girlfriend called,” you say, emphasizing around the word girlfriend.

“Ex-girlfriend. But I’ll let him know. Bye bye now.” She hangs up before you could say anything else. The abrupt ending and her emphasis on the word Ex not helping your growing irritation. You toss your phone back into your bag and continue on your way home.

You don’t look at your phone the whole subway ride home. Not daring to take it out of your bag until after you make it home and finish eating your Chinese. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you finally retrieve your phone from your bag, noticing the one missed call and the three text messages from Namjoon. 

Namjoon: Hey, Areum said you called. Everything okay? Namjoon: Y/N? Baby, you okay? *Missed call from Namjoon* Namjoon: Call me back when you get a chance.

You take a deep breath before typing out your response, repeating “patience and understanding” like a mantra in your head. You tell yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give him a chance to explain. He hasn’t given you any reason to doubt him. At least not until now.

You: Hey, sorry. Was eating dinner.  Namjoon: Hey, it’s cool. Everything okay? You: Yeah, I didn’t mean to worry you. Just hadn’t talked to you today. I miss you. Namjoon: I miss you too baby.

You pause for a moment. Contemplating how you want to continue the conversation. You wanted to call, not leave the interpretation of your tone through your text message to be misconstrued. But you feel like he wouldn’t give you a full explanation if he had anyone around him. 

You: Why did Areum answer your phone? Namjoon: She did? I don’t know. I had left it on the desk when I ran to the bathroom. What did she say? You: That you were busy. What was she doing with your phone? Namjoon: We were working on something in the recording studio. Guess I left my phone in there when I had run to the bathroom. Please don’t think too much into it.  You: I’m not. Just curious. Is she helping with Jimin’s Mixtape? How’s that going? Namjoon: Uh, yeah. It’s going well. Hoping to have it down by tomorrow night. I should probably get back to working on it. I’ll call you later, baby.

You read his last text over and over. Your body starts to shake as angry tears begin to spill from your eyes. He lied. He just told you a flat out lie. You don’t even respond back, throwing your phone on the coffee table as you fall onto the couch. You curse at yourself, feeling like such a fool for believing Namjoon had actually changed. He hasn’t changed at all. If anything he picked up more bad habits along the way. Adding a liar and a cheat to your list of reasons why you two won’t be able to work things out. “Well, not a cheat,” you think to yourself. “It’s not like we were back to being boyfriend and girlfriend.” The single thought makes more tears spill down your cheeks as bitterness coats like an undissolving film on your tongue. You turn to your side, curling up into yourself on the couch, the soft sniffles from your crying slowly lulling you to sleep.

Saturday goes by in a blur. You spent the whole day moping on your couch, ignoring every call or text that came your way. You once again cry yourself to sleep. The two glasses of wine and the Valentine’s themed rom coms playing on the TV helping contribute to your tearful state. You wake up Sunday morning after your crying session the night before. Determined to not waste another day moping over your failed relationship, you jump in the shower, giving yourself a quick pep talk as you refuse to let some stupid boy ruin the rest of your weekend. 

Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, forgoing a bra. You aren’t planning on leaving to go anywhere anytime soon. Perfectly content with spending your day alone in your apartment with trash tv and a bottle of wine. You continue to ignore Namjoon’s calls and texts throughout the day. Turning your ringer on silent and placing it face down on your kitchen countertop. The subtle buzzing noise from the vibrations is not as aggravating to your nerves like the noisy ringtone.

It’s just nearing 6PM when you open your fridge, pulling out the unfinished bottle of Moscato from the night before when you hear your phone buzz again. Your curiosity as to why he has called and texted you more in the last 24 hours than he has in the last week gets the best of you. Snatching your phone off the countertop, you see Namjoon’s name flashing on your screen. You swipe to answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear.

“What?” You bite into the phone, the current mood you’re in does not allow you to feign any sense of civility for the start of this conversation.

“Wow. Hello to you, too. Everything okay?” Namjoon speaks cautiously on the other end, worry and confusion evident in his tone.

“Everything’s peachy,” you say, popping your ‘p’ as you pour yourself a glass of wine and take a big gulp. “How’s the mixtape going?” You know Namjoon is able to feel the sarcastic bite to your words, but he doesn’t call you out on it. Continuing on as if he doesn’t notice.

“About that. I wanna show you something. Can you meet me at the studio? And, uh, wear something nice.” His easy tone and his blatant disregard for your obvious annoyance angers you. You take another big sip of your wine and decide to not hold back your frustration any longer.

“Why don’t you show Areum,” you respond, your voice doing a terrible mimic of hers when you say her name.

“What?” Joonie questions. “Y/N. What are you on?”

“You tell me, Joon,” you bark into the phone, your voice starting to raise in volume as you lean back against your kitchen counter. “She’s the one you’ve been spending all of your time with lately. Considering Jimin’s mixtape was finished Wednesday.”

You hear him curse underneath his breath, letting out a sigh before he speaks. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” You wait, allowing for time to see if he would at least speak up to try and defend himself. Throw out whatever random excuse to talk his way out of this. But you’re only met with his silence. Every wordless second from him pushes a dagger into your heart. Your chest constricts from the pain and it makes you want to hurry and end the phone call right then and there. “Anyways, I can’t come and meet you. I have company. For a Galentine’s Day.”

“Y/N, I know Tina is out with Jimin. Just please come and see me,” Namjoon says, his tone beginning to sound exasperated.

“I have other friends, Namjoon.” You don’t. Not really. At least not anyone that you’d be hanging out with outside of a work function, but he didn’t have to know that. Nor did he need to know about your canceled Galentine’s plan. 

“Come on, Y/N. You’re being ridiculous,” Namjoon huffs into the phone, his tone scolding. You can picture how he looks right now. Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to control his simmering frustration with you. “Just please come meet me at the studio and I’ll explain everything.”

“No, but I agree. It was ridiculous of me to think you’ve changed. It was ridiculous of me to even try and give us another chance.” You pause your speech as your voice begins to crack. Taking a deep breath in and out of your mouth before continuing. “Now, I have to go. The very deliciously ripped male stripper has arrived. Have a fun life with Areum.”

“For the last time, nothing is going on… Wait did you say a fucking strip --” You end the call, cutting Namjoon off midsentence. A sly smile stretching across your face as you turn off your phone. The smile only lasts for a few seconds until the realization hits. The fact that you and Namjoon are once again ‘no more’ sinks in as quickly as your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest.

Grabbing the wine bottle off the counter, you pour yourself another glass as you walk to your living room, plopping down onto your couch.

You must have dozed off sometime after you finished your last glass of wine. The loud knocking on your door ripping you from your wine induced nap as you’re quickly sitting up on your couch. Your head starts to spin from the quick movement. You stand up, grumbling under your breath that you’re on your way as you walk to the door, unlocking and wrenching it open. “Can you cut it out?” You yell before even looking to see who the crazy visitor was. The moment your eyes focus on the obsessive knocker, they grow twice in size, your mouth dropping open just as wide. “Namjoon?!”

There in your doorway, dressed in the same button up and slacks from the bar weeks before, stands your ex boyfriend. Jaw clenched as he storms into your apartment, throwing the bag he is holding on to your couch as he takes a look around before letting out a scoff. “You cheeky little brat. You lied about the stripper just to make me angry, didn’t you?” 

Your face flushes with anger at his accusatory tone. You, the liar? He’s really going to point that finger at you? “Seriously?” you screech, slamming your front door in frustration before walking up to him. “YOU are going to scold ME for lying? How about you explain why you lied about you and Areum before you say ANYTHING to me about lying.”

“Nothing is going on between me and Areum!” He yells back, the growing frustration evident in his tone. The top two undone buttons of his shirt gives you a peek of the red flush growing up his chest and neck from his anger.

“I saw you at the release party with her. I saw the way you had smiled at her as she was clinging on to your arm,” you bark back, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” His questions coming out through a disbelief laugh.

“After you thought I left. I came back in to grab my purse and I saw the two of you all close and personal while talking to some man.” You cross your arms, waiting to see the “oh shit” look flash on to his face knowing that he’d been caught. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he lets out a sardonic laugh, shaking his head as his hands move to rub his face.

“That was Areum’s father. He owns that Italian restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. She was introducing me to him so I can secure us a Valentine’s Day reservation. You know, for tonight!”

Your mouth drops down into an ‘Oh’ before you quickly shut it. That explains the night of the release, but it doesn’t answer for his behavior this last week or the fact that she was with him Friday night. “Then why lie to me about the mixtape? Why have you been spending so much time with her at work?” Your voice is softer, but the underlying hurt is still evident in your tone. 

“I promised her father to help Areum create some demo tracks in exchange for him squeezing us in for a reservation,” he says, dropping his hands from his face to look at you. He takes in your teary expression, his shoulders deflating slightly as he softens his own town before continuing his response. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. And the pressure to try and get Jimin’s mixtape and her demo done before tonight made me tunnel vision on just that.”

You don’t say anything. You stand there just looking at him as he leans up against your couch, guilt creeping into the pit of your stomach. When you don’t say anything, he takes it as a chance to continue. “I thought I had shown you up until then that I’ve changed. I thought I could trust you to be patient with me. That you’d be more understanding.” He looks away from you at the end of his words, clenching his jaw as he looks down at his feet.

“Wow,” you breathe out, not able to think of anything else to say. You both stand there for a few minutes in silence, neither one of you looking at each other as you take in everything he said. It dawns on you that Namjoon wasn’t in the wrong here. Not really. Things could’ve been handled better by him but the same goes for you. 

Things were going so well. You had lost yourself in the comforting warmth that came with having him back in your life. The bliss and happiness from experiencing his instant change in attention to you and your relationship overshadowing any thoughts of doubt that existed in your mind, practically making them appear nonexistent. You start to wonder if, in the back of your mind, you were trying to look for something he was doing wrong. Your underlying fear of failure jumping into action the moment anything wrong exposed itself. Latching on to your subconscious and leaking negativity and doubt into you like a poison. Knowing it was your fault that the night he had planned for the two of you was ruined, you knew it was up to you to try to fix it. To try and turn it around. And you have a small inkling of just how you could do that.

“I’m sorry, Joonie,” you say to him as you take a step closer, leaning in with your hand on his chest to give him a quick kiss. He turns away from you just slightly, jaw still clenched as you place a small peck on his cheek. You feel terrible, knowing you should have given him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t reverting back to his old ways. That he was really trying to prove to you that he changed. You place another kiss on his cheek, following it up with a few quick kisses on his neck that you feel make him shiver. Your lips twitch up into a smile, knowing you’re breaking through his cold demeanor. 

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. A name he loved that you called him, one that you used to your favor to help get you out of trouble. You make your way up to his ear, nibbling on it just slightly before you whisper seductively, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

You feel his body stiffen as you trail your hand down his chest and to the front of his jeans. Your palm barely grazes his growing bulge when he grabs your wrist in his hand, snatching it away from him causing you to back away in surprise. He wraps his other arm around you, his palm pressing at the small of your back to keep you close to him. Your eyes flicker to his and you let out a small gasp as you meet his hooded gaze. The beautiful swirls of cinnamon and honey that paints his irises are gone, disappearing behind a dark, seductive shade of lust. Falling deep into the dark depths of his lustrous gaze, you barely notice the smirk he gives as he leans in towards your ear. 

“Oh, no baby. It seems like someone has forgotten her manners.” The deep timber of his voice sends shivers down your spine, straight to your core. You feel the wetness of your arousal leaking from you and you involuntarily rub your thighs together to try and find some relief as he continues the seductive assault on your ear. “Only good girls get to call me Daddy. Disobedient little brats call me Mr. Kim.” He pulls back just slightly away from you, his dark eyes meeting your gaze once again. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

You cock your head to the side, licking your lips before you give him the most innocent smile. “I am so, so sorry, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes at you. His dark orbs piercing into you as he clicks his tongue against his teeth. “You know,” he sneers, pushing himself off the back of your couch. Still holding on to you as he walks you a few steps backwards. “You’ve been acting like a real brat lately. I guess that’s something about you that will never change, hmm?” 

He lets go of you, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt as he steps away from you, turning to walk around your couch. You take a step forward to follow him, stopping in your tracks when he raises his finger at you. He wags it back and forth, making a tisk noise as he continues his way around the couch. “Nuh-uh. You stay right there until I call for you, brat.” 

The deep, domineering drawl to his voice has your knees weakening. A fresh gush of arousal seeps out of you, pooling in your panties as you continue to rub your thighs together. Still searching for some sort of relief. You know if you were to look right now, you’d bet your underwear would be almost completely soaked. The way the cotton fabric is sticking to your lips a clear indication that your guess is right. 

You watch as Namjoon finishes unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it on but open as he stands staring at you with the couch being the only thing between you. He reaches down, placing his hand on top of his growing bulge. He starts moving his arm back and forth, slowly palming himself as if to taunt you. Teasing you with every slow stroke he takes up and down his long, clothed length. His dark orbs scour your entire body. You feel your body tingle as your skin grows hot from his piercing stare. The feeling of hot flames of lust licking at your every nerve ending as his hungry eyes graze over your body. Slowly tracing every dip and curve of your standing figure. You bite your bottom lip, trying to stifle a needy whine that threatens to escape. The verbal reaction, betraying you, rumbling up your throat and slipping past your lips. His eyes flicker up to the subtle movement. His pupils dilating with want at your feral sound. The tension in the air thickens. Your hand twitches from the need to touch him; your mouth beginning to water from craving his taste. Your legs feel restless, the urge to close the distance between you two cause your knees to gently buckle. The need to wrap your legs around him, to push him deep inside you growing stronger by the second. 

Namjoon cocks his brow at you. Silently daring you to move before he calls for you. Testing your resolve, your patience, as he continues to stroke himself. You knew this game, loved it. It was one you two played many times before in the year you were together. You knew if you behave, play by his rules, there would be a pleasurable payoff for you in the near future. “Good girls get rewarded,” he once purred into your ear. The memory of past earnings sends a shiver down your spine. But with the way he was looking at you, the anger from your argument still fresh on his mind, you know you would have to work for your reward. Your punishment for misbehaving would come first. The idea of receiving a punishment from Namjoon for the first time in months excites you. The walls of your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing with just the thought of what he has planned for you. You would never admit it to him, but sometimes you enjoy the punishment a lot more than the reward. 

Satisfied with your obedience so far, Namjoon smirks at you. Turning his back to you as he sits down on the couch, digging into the bag he threw on to it just moments earlier, taking something out before pushing the bag off the cushion. The bag hits your living room floor, the remaining contents making a noise as they knock together. “Did he bring a bag of toys with him?” you think to yourself. Your thoughts are soon cut off by the sound of him calling out to you, “Come here, baby.” 

Your legs move on instinct, your body just a slave to his voice the moment he ignites your carnal desire. You move slowly around the couch, standing in front of where he sits as he continues to stroke himself through his pants. You don’t sit down, no matter how badly you want to straddle him. The position he’s in is the perfect one for you to be able to grind down onto his member. The command is only to come to him. You know doing anything more before he says will just add on to your punishment. The waking brat in you tells you to do it anyways, but you don’t listen to her. Not yet. 

Namjoon watches you through his hooded gaze, his eyes roaming over your body until they stop at your chest. Your perk nipples visibly straining through the thin fabric of your tank top. He licks his lips, his voice deep and raspy as delivers another command. “Strip, now.”

You do as you’re told, slowly slipping your sweat pants and panties off at the same time. You take your time standing back upright. Kicking your discarded clothing off to the side as you grab the bottom hem of your tank top. Slowly moving it up your torso inch by inch. “Don’t tease, baby,” Namjoon growls, his dark eyes shooting up to yours as your walls clench again from his warning. 

You smile innocently, pulling your tank top up just a little faster. You let the bottom hem catch under your breast, causing your tits to bounce free once you finally lift your tank top over your head, throwing the item up and over Namjoon’s head. You continue to stand, reveling in the way Namjoon devours your curves with his eyes. He meets your gaze once again, taking his hand off his length and placing on the arm of the couch. “On your knees. You understand what to do from there. Right, brat?” He punctuates his words. Eyes never leaving you as you sink to your knees, your hands rushing to free him from the confines of clothing. You grasp the top of his undone pants and boxers. Namjoon lifts his hips just slightly, allowing you to pull his clothes down. His long, thick dick breaking free and slapping against his abdomen. 

Your mouth instantly begins to water again. You forgot how big he was. Your eyes trailing up his impressive length, refamiliarizing yourself with the long veins that decorate his beautiful cock. The large mushroom tip, angrily colored red as drops of precum leak out. The need to taste him intensifies. You waste no time in taking him into your grasp. Your small hand wraps around the base of his cock, fingertips no where near touching due to the absurdity of his thickness. You slowly start pumping him, gathering each drop of precum as you reach the top to help lubricate your hand going back down. Namjoon lets out a humor content, eyes still hooded as he watches you stroke his dick. You lean forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you roll your tongue around his tip. You hear his breath hitch, not giving him a chance to catch his breath before you take him into your mouth. You move your head up and down, starting out with shallow bobs as you get accustomed to his length. Taking him in deeper with each pass until you feel his tip graze the back of your throat. 

Being out of practice, you gag slight on reflex the moment you feel him touch the back of your throat. A deep moan rumbles through Namjoons chest as his eyes flutter close. His hand moves to your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail as you start to move faster. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, his hips starting to rut up, matching your pace. His groans motivate you, urging you to take him in deeper, faster. Your throat relaxes as his tip moves past your gag reflex. Namjoon starts guiding you with the hand in your hair, slightly pulling up and pushing down rapidly to quicken his pace. You let him take control, bracing your hands on the couch as your apartment fills with the obscene sounds of Namjoon fucking his dick into your mouth. You feel a messy layer of spit forming around your mouth, mixtures of drool and precum dribbling down your chin as Namjoon continues to pump his length into you. You start to gag again, your lungs burning with the need for air.

Out of nowhere he slams his hips up into you, shoving half his length down your throat. Hand firm on the back of your head to keep you in place. Your eyes start to water. A single tear escaping down your cheek as you close your eyes, concentrating on breathing through your nose to try and catch a much needed breath. You feel Namjoon’s cock twitch deep in your throat. You swallow, the sounds of his appreciating deep groans shooting straight down to your core. Another gush of arousal leaking out of you and you feel it drip down your thigh and on to your floor. Namjoon asks you to do that again through a breathy moan and fulfill his command. Receiving a slurred, “that’s my good girl” as he starts moving your head up and down again. You preen under his praise. His words sparking a fire in you and you take back control of the pace in which you suck his dick. Moving faster and taking him in as deep as you can with each pass. A slew of curses fly past Namjoon’s lips as he clenches your makeshift ponytail tighter.

 “Slow down baby or you’re gunna make me cum. I’m not ready yet,” he moans trying to pull up on hair to take back control. You ignore him, bobbing your head faster before you hear a growl roll through his chest. Namjoon yanking you off his dick by your hair as you let out a whine. “I said slow down, you little brat,” he growls, his chest moving rapidly up and down as he tries to catch his breath. You look up at him, a smirk on your lip as you lick around your mouth, gathering up every drop of his salty taste that still lingers. Before you can swallow, Namjoon reaches for your face. Pulling down the corner of your mouth, causing a pool of your precum mixed spit to dribble back down your chin. “You’re just my filthy little cockwhore, aren’t you?” He chides and you hum in approval. 

He releases your hair and face, leaning back into the couch and taking his length back into his hand again as he passes out another command, “Turn around, come sit on my dick.” His abrasiveness only further turns you on, hopping up off the floor quickly and turning your back to him. He quickly removes the remainder of his clothing. Tossing his pants and shirt over the couch to join your previously thrown top. He grabs your waist with his free hand, guiding you down in his lap as he positions himself at your core. He pauses your descent, rubbing his tip teasingly between your slick lips as he holds you up. You let out another whine, trying to push yourself down onto him as you speak without thinking. “Don’t tease,” you whine. You feel him move his tip away from your entrance, not allowing you a second to try and figure out where he went when you feel a harsh slap land on your pussy. You cry out, the sensation a mixture of pain and pleasure. “You don’t get to give the orders tonight, brat,” he growls into your ear. 

Once again repositioning himself at your lips, resuming his teasing back and forth strokes. You whimper in need, trying so hard to be patient, not wanting to give him anymore reason to lengthen his teasing you. As if he heard your inner plea, he stops his tip right at your entrance, slowly lowering you down onto him. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan, eyes closing shut as you feel the slight sting from the stretch of his large size. The hand you braced on the arm of the couch slips, causing you to fall slightly into Namjoon’s lap, taking more of him in. He lets out a deep moan, the vibrations from his chest rumble on your back, causing another wave of arousal to leak from you. Allowing the last few inches of Namjoon’s absurd length to slip in you until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. “Fuck, I’ve missed this tight little cunt,” he groans and you sigh in satisfaction. A small wave of relief flowing through you now that you have him inside you once again. 

A minute passes by as you both sit there not moving; Namjoon’s grip on your waist making it hard for you to move. Your frustration starts creeping up again and you feel your clit pulse with need. You grind down ever so subtly in his lap, trying to create some sort of friction. Your unapproved attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. Namjoon’s hand coming down on you once again, this time the harsh slap landing on your clit. You cry out again, the sting from the slap still lingering but it’s like your body doesn’t even notice, the action only making you grow more wet.

“Impatient little slut,” Namjoon huffs under his breath as he picks up a blue silicone object and slips it on to his finger. He presses a button near the bottom, a faint buzzing sound from the now vibrating silicone ring following shortly after. He presses his covered finger to your clit, still keeping his cock motionless inside of you. You let out a low moan as the low vibrations lick at your little bundle of nerves. Namjoon makes small, slow circles around your swollen bean as he leans your head back with his freehand. He nips at your earlobe. Sweat forming across your brow as he continues his slow circles. A subtle tension forms like a slow coil in your core. The burning need of your growing orgasm, faint but it’s there. It only adds to your frustration, the need to beg for more resting on the tip of your tongue. Namjoon nips at you once more before whispering into your ear, “This little thing has three settings. The more you behave, the higher it will go. Now, are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?” 

You nod your head frantically, words escaping you as you try to focus on the low vibrations tickling your clit, trying to find a way to increase the pressure without moving. Namjoon moves the vibrator off you, quickly replacing it with another slap to your clit. You cry out again, your walls clenching around his length causing a low moan to crawl up his chest. Namjoon presses the vibrator back on your clit, still buzzing at the lowest setting. “Use your words, brat,”he commands through clenched teeth. “Now,” he asks again, “are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Kim,” you stammer, your body starting to shake for the need of just more. Namjoon’s free hand trails up your stomach and cups your breast. He takes your hardened nipple between two fingers, rolling it before giving it a pinch. You let out a choked moan as he chuckles in your ear. “That’s my good girl,” he purrs before clicking the button on the vibrator, bumping it up to the mid level as he presses steady circles into your sensitive bean. You can’t control the wanton moans that fall from your lips. Your thighs start shaking in pleasure as the coil in your pit grows tighter, more of your juices leaking onto Namjoon’s cock and down your thighs. You feel your insides start to flutter, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length ever so often. You hear him let out a soft moan each time, his cock twitching inside of you. You lean back against him, arching your back as he keeps up his steady circles on your clit; showing no signs of his finger growing tired. Your head drops back on his shoulder as your eyes flutter shut. You slowly start rolling your hips forward, pushing your clit harder into the vibrator on his hand. The coil in your pit grows tighter, rolling your hips faster as Namjoon kisses your neck. Sucking red welts into your skin as he twirls his fingers faster, pressing the button on the toy and putting it on its highest level. Both of your breaths start to quicken. You feel your impending orgasm right at the precipice of release, all thoughts leaving your head. The only thing barely pulling your focus off chasing your release is Namjoon’s breathy groan in your ear, his velvety baritone pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You gunna cum, baby?” he rasps, meeting each roll of your hips with his own. You nod your head, your mouth falling open as you feel your orgasm creeping up your body. You feel a rumble roll up his chest, a dark chuckle slipping past his lips as you feel his free hand wrap around your throat. “Well. that’s just too damn bad.” 

He rips the vibrator away from you as he stops the roll of his hips. You start to whine in protest only for no noise to slip past your lips from the hand around your throat tightening ever so slightly. You feel his breath on your ear, tears forming at the corner of your eyes from the pain of your orgasm slipping away. “Disobedient whores don’t get to cum,” he bites into your ear, releasing his hand from your throat as he grabs a hold of your waist. You barely regain your breath when he starts fucking up into you ferociously, selfishly chasing his own release. You feel your orgasm rapidly build back up, shutting your eyes as you concentrate on its warmth. You try to force the knot inside of you to snap, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your goal as Namjoon shifts his hips. The tip of his cock at just the right angle to hit repeated strikes to the rough patch inside of you. You can taste your release, Namjoon’s pace and precision bringing you right to the edge before he rips you off of him, falling back onto his stomach. You cry out from the sudden loss, your walls and clit pulsing painfully from the departure of another missed orgasm. Strings of his cum shoot up from his twitching length, coating your legs and stomach with his release.

He loosens the grip on your waist. You slid your body off of him and on to the vacant part of the couch. Your legs still quiver as your back meets the soft cushion. Namjoon looks over at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving as his cock begins to soften to a semi-hard state. The corner of his lips twitches up into a smirk, causing his dimple to appear just briefly as he moves to crawl on top of you. He hovers over you, his face parallel with yours as he touches your face with his hand, wiping away the tears still clinging to your eyes. “You took your punishment well, baby,” he coos, closing his eyes as he places his forehead against yours, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, catching your lips in a slow, deep kiss. 

You move your lips in tandem. Namjoon lowers himself on to your body, grinding his rehardening cock against your core. He swallows your moans, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. Your movements become more frantic. Namjoon licking into your mouth as he continues to rut into your pelvis, your kissing turning into nothing but tongue and teeth. He pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips as you both come up for air. He sticks his tongue out, cutting the string as he wraps it around his wet appendage. Pulling it back into his mouth, his eyes darken with lust once more as he peers down at you. “Open,” he commands through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes widen slightly, sparkling with anticipation as you open your mouth wide. You stick your tongue out, waiting patiently for whatever he has to give you. After a quick suck in of his cheeks, he forms a ball of spit from his lips, pushing it out with his tongue. It’s slow in its descent down to you. It lands perfectly on your tongue and you quickly pull it into your mouth, swallowing it down before sticking your tongue back as if asking him for more. His eyes light up with mirth, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your lips, trailing more quick kisses down your neck and to your chest. He kisses each of your nipples before settling on one, rolling his tongue around the hardened bud before lightly sucking. You arch into him, his face being smothered by your ample bosom as he continues to suck. 

Sneaking his hand down in between you, he cups your heat. Tracing the outsides of your nether lips as you let out a light gasp. You ground down into his hand, silently begging for him to give your more. Your walls and clit are still throbbing, aching for the not one, but two denied orgasms. He releases your nipple with a pop, briefly grazing his teeth across the surface as he peers up at you. “Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Please let me cum, Daddy,” you whine, your tone embarrassingly high from need. You don’t have to wait long for him to answer your plea. He gathers your neverending leaking arousal on two fingers. Slipping both inside of you at once, easily able to reach knuckle deep due to your level of wetness. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, taking your other nipple into his mouth as he starts to pick up his speed. It’s not long before the knot beings to reform inside of you, your hips starting to match his pace as you fuck yourself onto his fingers. You let out another whine as he bites on your nipple, taking the opportunity to also slip a third finger into your pussy. He pumps them into you faster, curling them ever so often as he finds the sensitive spot inside of you. Your thighs start to quiver as your toes curl as you reach the edge of your release. Your inner walls begin to flutter, warning Namjoon of your impending orgasm. He curls his fingers again, the well timed graze across your rough patch is enough to snap the knot inside of you. Namjoon’s name falls from your lips like a mantra. Your orgasm washes over you in waves as he slightly lessens his pace, helping you ride out your pleasure as long as possible.

At the first sign of you coming down for your high, Namjoon releases your nipple. He resumes his previous pace with his fingers, quickly moving further down your body and taking your swollen clit between his lips. Your hands shoot down into his hair as he begins to suck. You pull at him, overstimulation causing your body to react on it’s own and try to push him away. He releases your clit, leaning up just far enough to land another slap on your pussy. Another choked cry escaping from your throat. “Behave,” he snaps. The one word the only thing he says to you before taking your bud back into his mouth. Feeling your walls begin to tighten again, he fucks into you faster. He curls his fingers with every thrust into you, flicking his tongue against your bud between different pressured sucks. An unearthly screech rumbles up your throat as your second orgasm hits you fast, harder than the one you experienced just a few moments before. Your gushing release forces Namjoon’s hands out from inside of you. Your juices splashing onto his chest as he releases your clit, moving down just a little lower to your clenching hole. You let out a moan as he runs his tongue between your lips. Obscene slurping sounds ringing throughout your living room as he laps up your juices, drinking down every drop like a man starved. 

Oversensitivity kicks in again. You push at his head, your body barely able to put any force behind it as it still tries to recover from the back to back bliss. Namjoon releases you from his mouth, chuckling at you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Evidence of your release still dripping from his chin as he moves back up your body to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, wrapping the muscle around your’s, painting it with the leftovers of your release. The taste of your arousal re energizes you, sucking his tongue between your lips to taste yourself even more. Still kissing you, Namjoon maneuvers your legs around his waist. He breaks the kiss, murmuring for you to hold on. He stands up off the couch, lifting you up at the same time. You let out a playful squeal as you throw your hands around your neck to keep you from falling. His hands are under your ass as he carries you towards the hallway leading to your bedroom. He kisses you as he walks, his hand groping your ass as he balances you with each step. His cock, nestled between your pussy and his abdomen, twitches with arousal from your continued moans.

He barely makes it to your closed bedroom door before pushing you up against it. You use the hard surface to support yourself, leaning back into as you grind your core on Namjoon’s cock. Your slick lips coating his length with your arousal as he ruts up into you, matching your movement. He leans in for a kiss and you catch him off guard. Catching his plump bottom lip between your teeth, biting it every so softly as you suck on it. Namjoon letting out a choked moan as you let it go. He pushes you further into the door, using the extra support to allow himself to position his dick at your entrance. “You think you can cum for me one more time, baby?” He asks you through a smirk, his slightly taunting tone poking at your inner brat, coaxing her to come out and finally play.

“Of course I do,” you state cockily. “The real question is can you make me cum one more time. Baby.” Namjoon lets out a deep growl and you feel the vibrations shoot straight to your cunt. Mixtures of adrenaline and excitement burning inside you as anger sparks like a flame in Namjoon’s eyes. He slams his thick rod to the hilt inside you. You let out a strangled moan from the sudden intrusion. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders as he pushes off your door. He starts fucking up into you. Gravity brings you down harder on him as he bounces you on his cock. 

“Next time, I’m gagging the little bratty mouth of yours,” he growls. He makes a quick grab for the doorknob, opening the door and stumbling into your room and towards your bed.

Namjoon is still speared inside you as he drops you both onto your bed, scooting you up the mattress until your head meets your pillow. He grabs you under your knee, lifting it up and into your chest, allowing him to fuck into you at a deeper, more delectable angle. “This pussy was fucking made for me,” he grunts. Sweat coloring his brow as he continues plowing into you. His balls slapping your ass each time he drives himself to the hilt inside of you. Your hands grasp at the sheets, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm growing once again. Wanton moans fall from your lips with every delicious stroke of his cock against your velvety walls. Your pussy is still sensitive from your previous two orgasms, slight oversensitivity kicking in but it only heightens the pleasure. You open your eyes, your lids fluttering from the pleasure as you blink to focus your vision on Namjoon. The street light peeking through the window falls on his face, allowing you to see him, eyes closed with his mouth dropped open, losing himself in the pleasure that is you. As if he feels your stare, he opens his eyes and peers down at you. His pupils are blown with lust yet his gaze brims with so much love and adoration as he continues to stare at you, causing a warm comfort of matching affection to start to bloom in your chest.

Dropping your knee, he slows his thrust. Changing to grinding deep into you as he moves his hands to cup your face. Kissing you deeply, he rests his forehead on yours again, speaking to you softly between labored breaths. “You know you’re the only one I want like this. Or like anything. I only want you.”

Your lips spread wide in a smile, your hands release their grip on the bed sheets, moving to the back of his head. You bring him in for another kiss before returning his sentiment. “I feel the same way, Joonie,” you huff out softly. “Now fuck me.”

Namjoon’s lips break into a quick smirk before pressing a rough kiss into yours. He pushes himself back up. A hand on your waist and his other pushed up against your head board as he starts deeply thrusting into you at an unrelenting pace. Your hands claw at his back as you arch up into him. The sensation of him striking your g-spot quickly brings another orgasm into fruition. A delicious warmth pooling in your core as you feel his movements start to stutter. “I’m close, baby,” he confesses through gritted teeth. His voice is strained as he tries to hold on just a bit longer to his release. Breathy whines asking him to ‘Don’t stop’ the only thing you're able to say in response as you creep closer and closer to the edge. He moves his hand on your waist between you, finding your clit with his thumb and rubbing it in quick circles. “Come with me, baby.” He only lasts a few more pumps into you before he’s driving into you deep, tip pressed firmly into your rough patch as he loses himself to his release. You’re quick to follow him, that last thrust the last push you need to send you over the edge. His seed spilling into you in never ending spurts, filling you up to the brim as your pussy clenches around him. He collapses on top of you, the rhythmic pulses of your walls continuing to milk him for all he’s worth, soaking up every last drop of his release.

You both lie there, chests moving rapidly up and down as you both try to catch your breaths. Namjoon's softening cock still nestled inside of you as you lightly trail your fingers up his spine. After a few minutes, he leans up, pulling himself out of you as you both wince from the loss. The mixture of your combined release starts to slowly leak out of you, dripping onto your bedsheets. He rolls to lay beside you, sliding his arm under your shoulders to pull you into him. The stickiness of your skin from your labored sweat feeling slightly uncomfortable on his, but you don’t care. Still wrapping your arms around him, your head on his chest as he rests his chin on you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. Or lied about why I was staying late. I just really wanted to surprise you and I’m terrible at keeping secrets,” he says, nuzzling his face into your hair as you scoot in closer to him.

“I know, Joonie. And I’m sorry, too. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I promised to be more understanding and I didn’t do that.” He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to lie back on the bed, still facing him.

“Then let’s start over. Try working on things again. This time, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” he asks, smiling down at you as you smile back at him. Propping up on an elbow, you raise your head up and catch his lips in a deep kiss. His smile while kissing you back lets you know that this was an acceptable enough answer. Breaking apart, you lay back down as he moves to trail kisses across your shoulder. “I brought a whole bag of things to use on you, and I barely got to dive into it. Just another thing that didn’t really go as planned,” he says with a sigh, propping his head on his hand as he looks down on you. You glance at the clock on your bedside table before turning back to Namjoon. “The night’s still young,” you purr, trailing one of your fingers down his chest. “How about you spend the night, and I’ll let you use the whole bag on me twice.” 

Namjoon grins wide, mischief coloring his eyes as he maneuvers himself back on top of you. “Deal.”

© All rights reserved under @joontopia​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[cynettic]

Kaeya x Reader ( midnight cuddles )

Summary - You get back late from work and commissions to Kaeya sleeping, you try not to wake him up. Little bit of a twist this time though, you’re drunk ;)

Pairings - Kaeya x Reader

Writing Style - Bullet points, mini oneshot fluff (at the end)

Warnings - Nonee

A/N - Cmon Kaeya, accept my marriage proposal dammit-

Midnight Cuddles

It wasn’t too uncommon to show up home later than your boyfriend, his cavalry duties carrying him through the day. If he showed up late, it was with alcohol in his hand and a tad too many drinks. A hiccuping mess, you were used to it despite chastising him every time anyway.

“I don’t want you stumbling around late at night!”

But it was a whole other matter on the eventful night that you showed up late from work, and to top it off, drunk. It wasn’t that you drank when he wasn’t around, it was always when the two of you were in the tavern, either you or him making sure to stay sober to take the other home.

Or on the nights when you both accidentally had too much, and Diluc had to take care of the problem.

But tonight had been rough, and you’d been lured by the sound of glass clattering against the counter, and the promise of bliss if only for a few hours. Of course you’d thought Kaeya was there as well, which is why you’d bothered to drink that much.

But now you were stumbling into your room, drunk.

And very bad at being quiet.

Kaeya wasn’t the deepest sleeper, so you’d often be able to get away with sneaking in and crawling back into bed when coming back from work late.

But your drunk dumbass couldn’t stay up straight.

So despite thinking you were as quiet as the sneakiest ninja in all of Teyvat, the clatter of objects being strewn around with every step told you otherwise. You hadn’t meant to wake him up, you really hadn’t, even with your hazed mind you knew that Kaeya needed his sleep.

Somehow even drunk, you detected when he woke up with a groan, slowly rising to sit up. Just as he did so, you ducked, trying to hide your form in the darkness of the closet.

Kaeya didn’t have nocturnal vision like Diluc or Zhongli, so he struggled to glance around the room. Of course, even half asleep he knew any threat wouldn’t make that much noise. So he’d automatically suspected it was you, or a very poor excuse of a thief.

“Y/n…?”

Curled in a ball, you didn’t make a sound as you softly breathed against your knees. Pity you decided to be quiet now, Kaeya was already awake.

Standing on both feet, the cavalry knight rubbed at his eyes, glancing around the room once more. Now at this point he could smell the reeking of alcohol, and with a deep sigh he’d already puzzled together half of what was going on.

Eventually he spotted you, and with slow quiet steps, he made his way towards your bunched up form. Kneeling down to reach your small for, against the closet door, he breathed your name again, this time more worried.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t move, only sniffled when his eyes met yours. To say you were an emotional moody drunk was an understatement, you could jump from angry to energetic. Crying to laughing, any emotion, just too much of it. Another reason why you stayed away from alcohol unless Kaeya promised to stay sober, or Diluc offered to keep you in check.

Today, you decided to be a crybaby.

Kaeya paused, a hand slowly making its way to hold your face, hand against your cheek. His hand was calloused, and you nuzzled your head against the familiar form of his hand.

With a sigh, he slowly tugged you closer to him with one hand, lifting you up effortlessly. You leaned your head against his chest, a hiccup escaping your lips as well as a sob.

“What’s wrong kitten…?”

You sniffled in response.

Kaeya simply held you in his arms as he came to the kitchen, holding you with one hand as the other reached to grab a glass from the cupboard. There were times where he could be impatient, but cradling your quivering form, he didn’t even consider pressuring you for an answer.

He filled the glass with water, still holding you with one hand.

This man is strong- 😳

Anyways, one hand carrying you, the other one held the glass of water, and he made his way to the couch. Plopping down, he set you sideways on his lap, so your head and knees could lean against his chest.

If you weren’t drunk, you definitely would’ve admired the window ;)

One hand had the cup of water to your lips while the other tangled itself in your hair. It was messy, and his fingers slowly soothed out the tangles, careful not to make the process painful.

You drink the water, and once again, he asks what’s wrong.

You sniffle, “Y-you woke up.” 🥺

How could he not- you were literally kicking around every little thing on the ground. Probably hit the bed while you were at it too, even a deep sleeper would’ve woken up.

But Kaeya just chuckles.

He probably would’ve teased you, but you were genuinely crying, and he didn’t want to make you anymore upset. Especially when you were drunk, you were so unpredictable.

Instead he presses a kiss to your forehead, another between your eyebrows, and a last one to the tip of your nose. He promises you he doesn’t mind, that he will always wake up for you, that he’ll always be there.

You cry even more.

When you persist on the subject, he kisses you silent. He kisses you so much you forget what you were trying to say, and with another sniffle, you start to giggle. His lips drag to your neck, and your giggles turn to full out laughs at the jittery sensation.

“K-Kaeya- that tickles!”

Content that he managed to drag you from your solomn state, he sets the empty glass of water on the table, picking you up once more. He never stops kissing you though, your giggles like music to his ears.

He doesn’t stop kissing you till you’re all dressed up to sleep, tucked under the covers and in his arms.

You tell him you love him, he kisses you on the lips one last time and tells you that he wants to hear it in the morning.

Arms around him, you nuzzle your head against his neck, slowly drifting to sleep. He presses one last kiss to your forehead, tangling his legs with yours as he falls asleep alongside you.

_-_-_-_-_

Everything was hazy.

Your mind was jumbled between thoughts, your boyfriend beside you being the main focus. You could feel his warmth etch on your cold skin, wanting to press closer against him.

You couldn’t press close enough.

So with these jumbled thoughts, you sipped out of the glass of water in his hand, trying to clear and sort out what ran through your mind. But an overwhelming sensation of shame and guilt adorned your subconscious, and all you could do was cry. He’d asked why, rubbed his hand against your face and soothingly tousled his fingers through your hair.

And he’d laughed.

You didn’t understand what was so funny, you felt so terrible. He’d been sleeping and you’d woken him up. Of course you’d tried to hide away after doing so, but either you were terrible at hiding, or he had super senses.

Or you were drunk.

Not that you’d ever admit that to yourself in this state.

“B-But-“ you tried again, a hiccup cutting your sentence short.

Kaeya pressed another kiss to your lips, so gentle you couldn’t help but soften into it. Gentle, but firm enough to get you to shut up. Honestly- why wouldn’t he just let you talk??

“D-dont kiss me while I’m talki-“ you began.

He kissed you again.

“Hey! Are y-you even listen-“ you started.

He pressed his lips against yours, stern.

“K-Kaeya…” you whined, pouting when he kissed you again.

Instead of talking, you only stared up at him with puppy dog eyes, frown growing when he only chuckled in response. The tears had stopped, and the only sensation that pumped through your veins was annoyance, the look on your face made it clear enough.

Yet his hands worked their way around your hair, and the soothing motion was instantaneous on your mood. He set the glass down on the table, the other hand brushing back a strand of hair from your face. Getting a good view of the frown on your face, he paused, thinking of a way to take away the tears for good and put a smile on your face.

So he pressed his lips against your neck.

They were icy cold, different from the warmth of when he had kissed you. If you were sober, you would’ve known that it was the work of his vision, set down on the couch. But still, you jolted from the contact, letting out a speak of surprise fill the room.

“Cold!”

“Cold- cold- colddddd-“

His lips drifted from the nook of your neck to your shoulders, and you tensed up at the jittery sensation. Feather like, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, forgetting about the tears you had shed earlier. It was like he was tickling you, and you flailed your legs, ankles brushing against the fabric of the cushion.

You squirmed, not enough to get out of his lap, but just enough to match the rhythm of your sporadic laughing. You didn’t notice how Kaeya’s lips curved to a smile at the sound, fingertips now cold to the touch as if to drain away all malicious thoughts.

At last, when he stopped with his icy teasing, you let out a sigh of relief. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead, warm.

You shivered against the contrast of temperature, an equally warm smile on your lips as you looked up to meet his eyes.

He beamed back, mission accomplished.