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papercupids · 11 months

Text

and cut!

pairing -> director!reader × ex!mingyu ft. (ateez) actor!yunho + a heck lot of ocs

summary -> never take an artist seriously when they say their work is inspired from their "imagination."

or alternatively, where to get over mingyu you write a script about you and him.

warnings -> angst, drinking, there's a scene where the reader is drunk and there's profanities too.

a/n -> finally a one shot after constantly putting out <500 words blurbs/drabbles (?) i put my yunho/mingyu agenda here and hopefully someone will actually relate to it!! as usual feedback is v v appreciated <3

word count -> 4.5k

"come on, come on, this is my favourite song!" he's jumping up and extending his hand out to you as the speaker is playing some song which goes a bit like "dum da dum da dum da dum da dum," and you don't like it, but looking at his face, encouraging and eager for you to join him, you get up and slowly join mingyu.

the apartment was quiet, save for the soft music and the sounds of bare feet touching the floor, but no one cares, it’s summer. it’s sticky but the air conditioner's on. he spins you around and then when you turn he places his hand on your back trying to silly dance as much as he can to make you laugh.

maybe you love him, you think. but you don't want to say it out loud and risk a withdrawal from him.

and you laugh at him, he's pleased with himself after that, but he keeps on making you jump and spin and the laughing, it all is making you choke a little so you stop suddenly and try to catch your breath, still laughing. and when he stops, he's looking at you and laughing too except he's coming in closer and closer until there's no gap between you both and he's wrapping both of his arms around and leaning in to kiss you and then touching his forehead to yours afterwards.

"i love you," you whisper lowly.

"what?"

"i love you," you declare as you cup his face gently, and you don't mean to, but your voice shakes a little bit.

“AND CUT!” the producer yells, making you snap out of your fantasy in a second, and shake your head. the actors that were in front of you break character and get away from each other desperate to get to their vans and have a break.

seungcheol put down the microphone at your table and then gives you a fake grin, “earth to you, our beloved director,”

you close your eyes, “i was watching the scene, okay, i was just thinking if we could do something to-“

“save it,” he leans close, “look, babe, as much as i love you, we need to be on track, okay? we can’t afford to lose time, not even a little bit. you know the fans have been waiting for long, ” you nod. you knew how important this project was for you, after 2 years of radio silence and nobody to support your script except seungcheol. maybe that was why it was called 15 minutes of fame, because when it was over, nobody really cared.

but the response had been overwhelming when it was revealed to the fans that you were actually coming back with a film, and on top of that writing and directing your own story, it had a lot of hopes resting on it.

but what people or seungcheol did not know was that, the script was personal to you, as any piece of art to an artist, and it resembled a time in your life when you were truly happy, not the career high you felt when your first film got 80% rotten tomatoes, but a different, serene kind of happy. a happiness which could only exist there, and only with a certain kind of person, who was kim mingyu.

as the schedule for the day wrapped up, you sat on your computer at home, reviewing the footage from the past few days. the days after your college was over, moving in with him, dancing around the apartment… it made you pick up your phone, as it did since the day you thought of the script, or wait, scratch that, since the day you left him hanging there at the restaurant and you went to his contact.

your calls and texts were long since blocked by him, which was valid, ofcourse, but you desperately wanted him to know, you wanted to shout from the top of mountains if that could make him hear it, but you wanted him to know that "yes, mingyu, i miss you, and i made a mistake, but i don't know how to make it better, please help me!"

but nothing of that sort would happen. this was real life, not some sort of hallmark movie.

so when nothing resonated with you enough to write a script about, the idea came to you in a dream, to write about him. and you did, even if the probability of getting funded was about 20-80, you went ahead with it. and one of the top producers in the industry, known for his last two streaks of movies that were ranked number 1 on letterboxd, seungcheol decided to go through with it.

in his words, the story was raw, unique and heart-wrenching, it would make for a great contribution to a genre that closely resembled an indie movie type thing but also did not have the iconic manic pixie dream girl. he liked that.

the next scene was the aftermath of a party, of a new year’s party to be precise, and the feeling of a new year hadn’t quite settled into the both of you because you were too busy cleaning up the confetti and beer cups left by your drunk friends.

“i’m never hosting a party ever again,” you declared, picking up polaroids that were discarded being labeled ‘unsatisfactory’ this specific one was of vernon and seungkwan with the former crouched down to be shorter than seungkwan as he poses with an open mouth, it was attempted to look like seungkwan eating vernon’s head, but it had ended up as a hilarious mistake as seungkwan looked to be doing nowhere what he’d intended to. this was one to show them tomorrow sober, so you quickly put it in your pocket.

“i’m just thankful they left, it looked like some of them had plans to sleep over,”

“not a chance in hell,” you responded. you loved your friends, but they were probably making a mess of their sinks by throwing up, judging by the amount of alcohol they had.

“hey, wait, wait,” mingyu left the plastic bag he was collecting the trash in as he came walking to the living room, “do you hear that?” he went to the speaker which was set to the lowest volume. it was one of the songs that was in the first ever playlist you’d made for him.

he walks over to you, and you already know what’s coming, but you’ve long since accepted these impromptu sessions, so when he takes your hand and spins your around, it’s graceful, but afterwards, it’s just slow dancing in the living room.

“happy new year,” he wishes you.

“happy new year, my love. to this one and to so many more we’ll spend together,”

“CUT!” this time it’s you, not seungcheol. you were close to tears, the set, the music it was too familiar and it felt like walking on glass.

“great job, yunho!” he smiles as he walks up to you to monitor the footage.

he watches intently as you review it. he’s satisfied with it and you honestly couldn’t have had anybody better to portray mingyu.

“you’re perfect, really, you’re bringing the story to life really well,” you compliment him.

“is it, though?” he takes a chair and sits next to you, his assistant brings him a fan and he silently accepts it, keeping his eyes on you.

“is it what?”

“a story, i mean. either you have a intricate imagination or it’s a lie, it has actually happened,”

thankfully, to save you, your phone rings, you excuse yourself as yunho just smirks.

“seungcheol?”

“how’s it going? i wanted you to remind you to not get too deep into it, it’s fine if we need to push it back, just don’t overwork yourself,”

“aw, where’s this change of mind coming from? ah, i should really make you go home more, your wife is clearly the more rational one. i knew she would give you a piece of mind,”

“it’s me, yuri, how are you, baby? i hope seungcheol is not being too harsh on you,”

“ahah, no, no, he’s just giving me the push that i need, it’s alright,”

“what’s next on the schedule? i was thinking of coming down to watch the magic happen myself,”

“ofcourse, ofcourse,”

today’s shoot is about the time when you both first met.

you’d been new in town when your friend, alice had taken a quick liking to you and you’d both hit it off too, becoming the best of friends in no time almost.

but there’s one thing about that you absolutely dislike, her boyfriend vernon. they seemed to be perfectly alright with each other a minute and fighting the other, with the fighting mainly consisting of alice talking vernon’s ear off about how he didn’t value her as much as he should and how he never texts her, and vernon, constantly trying to make amends, i’ll be better, i’ll text you more.

one of those days though, the fight had ended with alice in your bed, passed out while crying and someone rung your bell - a tall guy with a fang-y smile that he didn’t hesitate to show even if he was here to solve a serious issue.

“i’m mingyu,”

and he’d tell you later on that he was determined to make the two patch up after that to get an excuse to hang out with you, to get to know you, and to keep you close. and he patched them up so well that they actually ended up getting married.

“wait, cut,”

you command and instantly, the actors turn to you and you walk over to yunho.

“we need a little teeth in the smile, please,”

he grins awkwardly.

“yunho, please,” the whole set has stopped to look at the conversation, and you talk in a lower voice to not let everybody hear you pleading.

“why does that even matter? i’m doing what i would normally to people when i’m introducing myself. isn’t that natural?”

“you don’t get it-“

“do i not smile like him?” he whispers, and you throw him a glare as you walk back to your chair, “rolling again,”

“oh god, i love it!” yuri exclaims after the last shoot is done, she’s in awe of the plot of the simplicity and yet intricity of it.

you wrap things up as she talks to you. “let’s go somewhere for dinner,” you’re tired but you nod, “okay,”

the first thing she does as you both sit down on your booth is lean in, her elbows on the table and her face leaned in, “now tell me, what inspired the script!”

“not this again,” you groan.

“it’s definitely something and i need to know, for science,”

“can we at least order first?” she giggles, “yes, okay,”

almost 2 hours later, as she scoops out the last spoon of her ice cream, you’ve finished your story.

she quietly enjoys that one bit and then comments, “i don’t think you’re to blame at all,”

“how? i was the one who left him,”

“well, because if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now, and i’m not talking like being with me here but this,” she points to the bag where the script is cozily snuggled up. “you wouldn’t have had this. and i’m not saying it’s his fault, because, ofcourse there’s nothing wrong with what he wanted either, it’s just that you both were different people who wanted different things. it was, simply put, circumstantial,”

she makes sense, but it doesn’t feel right to just blame the time when you’ve gotten so used to blaming yourself for choosing to leave.

“but it must have been beautiful, your love,” she puts a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, “i’m glad you experienced something like that and you can portray it so gracefully too,”

“and, um, yuri, don’t tell seungcheol, please,”

the movie was coming along exactly on time, all the actors were cooperative and the weather didn’t meddle much, seungcheol came around often and advise you about a particular scene should be reshot but he did not push a lot, something that you should probably thank yuri for.

and soon enough it was the day that filming would wrap up and you could finally shove your feelings in a movie and not look back, as much as it had been a dream to relieve it all again, the grave realization that these memories might be the only ones you would ever share with mingyu made you breakdown a lot of times.

yuri came down again, to congratulate you and she sat beside you for the last scene in the movie as well as shooting.

this scene, you could truthfully cross your heart and say that it’s fictional.

in this scene, they bump into each other once again, hopeful to start where they left off, looking at a stranger with a knowing smile, you knew him before and maybe, just maybe you’ll know him again.

but real life wasn’t anything like that, the film goes into post production, and you still haven’t gave up on your habit of lying on your side and scrolling through your phone looking at his photos and some screenshots of your chats (you had long since switched through multiple phones and had way too many drunk nights where you swore to get over him) but it was no use, every night ended the same, with your heart feeling hollowed out as you dreamt of his laughter and his touch, how was it that you had to go through your entire life without it now? it made you cry all over again.

“when are you going to come home?” the aspect chilled you but you decided that if you wanted to do something about it then you had to go home, and you had to face him. even if going home wasn’t necessarily that because your parents and mingyu lived on the opposite ends of town and had cut ties with each other after the way you ran away, enough time has passed for you to try and make amends, or just at least check up on him.

“mingyu?”

he’s sitting in the cafè where you used to frequent during your time together and you look at alice who encourages you to go talk to him as the said person turns and stands up after he recognizes you.

and it’s obvious, you run to him, throwing your arms around him.

“i’m so glad you’re back,” he looks into your eyes with the same hope he got down on one knee with. maybe this time you can say yes, your movies have been doing well and you’re no longer struggling and but he doesn’t want to get out of this town and-

the alarm rings, and you’re at home, miles away from the previous title holder of home and even farther away from mingyu himself. and who were you kidding? how can you even expect him to welcome you like that? you yourself didn’t deem yourself worthy of a normal conversation let alone a hug and a hopefulness to start over, the movie bit was really getting to you.

the time read 8:00 am, the premiere was today, if things went smoothly you could ditch after a few interviews and be on the way home and as early as tomorrow you could be breathing the same air as mingyu?

“i’m coming today,” you call your mom en route to the venue, and she visibly smiles, you haven’t gone home but home, your parents have been here a lot of times, understanding and empathizing with your choice.

muting the call, she nods to your father, the home was about to regain its fullness again.

“but isn’t the premiere today?”

“well, i can get out as soon as i’m doing with the mandatory obligations.”

“don’t rush and drive safe, okay?”

the lights flashing and the loud voices of the public, the flashy setting with pretentious people and their fake smiles and wishes about “i hope the movie does well,” but when in reality they hoped the exact opposite was too much for you even on normal days let alone the days when you were already itching to get out, and so you did, 2 hours after you entered, and painstakingly, turns out the superpower you’d want to have if someday was invisibility, take that TMZ!

but the very next memory is of the warmest bed you’ve ever known, the smell of the incense sticks your father lights every morning without fail and the country song playlist your mom has to play, what an odd combination.

“so, um,” sitting at the breakfast table, you can sense an odd shift in the atmosphere after you’ve settled down in the household and it’s almost tense, the bread and butter doesn’t seem appetizing now.

the look that your parents give each other is unmissable.

“okay,” your father clears his throat, “we’ve been beating around the bush and avoiding anything that’s related to mingyu or anything but,”

“but?”

“um,”

“he got married,” your mum says quickly and shoves food into her mouth, all the while they both look down at the dining table, the pattern become very interesting to them at that moment.

three words and it’s enough to slash your heart into two, but to be honest it hurt less compared to the times you’d thought of the possibility, you thought you’d be more hurt, the scene would be more dramatic, and everything. but it was a numb kind of pain, the kind that is in the next room, sleeping and you have to open drawers quietly to not wake it up, but still numb.

it’s okay, when you were out there you were desperate for a piece of home and found it in your memories of mingyu, but when you’re here, you realize that more than mingyu there were a lot of other chracters in your story.

speaking of characters, there were alice and vernon who had long since gotten married, had a kid recently and there was so much to catch up on.

“we go to the movies only for you, really. because it’s so hard to get this guy,” alice points to vernon who is sprawled on the sofa with his baby on the side, “out of the house,”

“hey, it’s not my fault that you can literally do everything without moving a finger out of the house,”

they hadn’t changed a single bit since college and you were glad, it was unbelievable that these were the same two people who were breaking up every 2 days a few years back, that was a great story to tell the baby about.

when you mention mingyu, they share the same look your parents did, “it’s okay, guys, i know he’s married. jeez, did everybody collectively know i was still pining over him?”

“it was obvious,”

“i wish you could have worked out though,” alice sighs. “i mean, his wife is great, we see them once a month but it would have been different if it were you, right?”

“are you sure they aren’t home?” mingyu whispers as he climbs in through your window. and you’re too tipsy to care if they are or not.

‘i don’t know!” you announce in a voice that was sure to wake up the neighbours enough.

mingyu wanted to laugh, the way you were swaying and struggling to walk straigh was adorable and so was the look in your eyes, that you could achieve anything, but he noticed it even when you were sober, the look which said, i know what i want and i’m not afraid of going for it. it scared him sometimes, but it was that very thrill that had attracted him to you in the first place.

“mingyuuu,” your voice dragged, thankfully and luckily your parents were either asleep or really not here.

“baby,” he place a finger on your lips, “you need to be quiet, okay? people are sleeping,”

“hmm,” you walk over to sit on your bed.

“mingyu,” you call his name out again. he looks at you with a smile on his face, your voice has dropped to a whisper, mocking him.

“come here,” you pat on the space beside you.

“here,” he sits down and grab onto his arm softly, snuggling into his chest.

“i love mingyu,” is the last thing you say when you drift off beside him, and you’ll never know that he said it too.

“i love you, always and forever,”

on the same bed, you sit alone now, the review are pouring in, people love the rawness of their love, people hate that it’s too slow, people love yunho’s acting, and people call out “loopholes” and it gets overwhelming to you at some point so you stop looking at it and decide to go out to clear your head.

the grocery store is a perfect place to do that and as soon as you tell your mom that, she has an entire list of things you need to get for her, ready.

and thankfully, just as you’re in the first aisle of biscuits and snacks, the caller id shows yuri’s number.

“i love how it turned out so much,”

you smile as you push the shopping trolley, that was one of the only opinions that matter.

“so you’re home?” she asks.

“home sweet home after like 6 years,”

“wow, that’s a lot.” she’s a little touchy around the subject but you know what she wants to ask.

“nope, yuri, i haven’t seen mingyu,”

“oh, haha, yes i wanted to ask that,”

the chips, and the nachos and now the sauce section. but you had to get some detergent for your mom, where was that aisle?

“but i’m actually thankful for that.” you take a deep breath, “yuri, he’s married.”

“shit…” she quietly mutters. and shifts her phone to the right ear, “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m.. fine, it’s not something that i didn’t think about so it’s okay, i was prepared for it,”

a small girl is reaching up for a bread in the baked goods section and you have an involuntary grin plastered on your face, it suddenly reminded you of a time when you were like the same little kid.

“here, let me help,” you reach up for it and give it to her, but she gives you a blank look and runs away.

and you’re suddenly reminded of the whole stranger danger campaign your aprents used to do for you, maybe the same is for her parents.

but just as you turn and push your cart, still looking for the damned detergent, someone calls out to you.

“excuse me,”

and you turn before the voice registers itself in your brain.

mingyu.

and the kid from before, hiding behind his legs.

he’s looking down at her, “i’m sorry, normally she does say thank you. haneul, baby, say thank-“

and he looks at you.

“..y/n?”

“uh, yuri, let me call you back in a bit,”

nothing could have prepared you for that one moment, no matter how much you think about it in the shower, or try to practice a conversation.

shortly after your little reunion in the baked goods section, his wife follows, “should i get this or…?”

and thankfully, it wasn’t awkward (read, kinda awkward) but you greeted them formally and his wife seemed to know about you but she made the little girl greet you as her father's friend.

"how have you been?" he asks, and the wife, who introduces herself as hari, grabs his arm.

"come over to ours, i'm sure you both have to catch up."

and that is how you end up in the same house that well, you used to be practically living ij but out of respect for both haneul and hari, you shake off the memories, you had the rest of your life for them.

"haneul, can you go upto your room and make a drawing for your father's friend?" hari brings three cups of tea into the living room as you make small talk with mingyu, turns out his parents had both tragically passed away in a car accident 2 years ago so now he lived here.

and you don't even know what it means because you don't even live in the same rented apartment in a different city for too long, you couldn't imagine having a family in the place where you wete born, there was nothing wrong with it, but it wasn't what you wanted.

"we watched one of your movies together," she admits, "it was actually our first date and he said, the director is my ex, and i just laughed i couldn't believe him,"

and the conversation went on, scratching at the surface but not really going in, it was like catching up with work acquaintance.

when haneul called out for her mother, you took that time to tell mingyu that you want to be excused.

"i'll walk you out,"

and as soon as you're on the porch gate, you turn to him.

"i'm happy you got what you wanted, mingyu."

"i wanted you, y/n. this is what i needed."

"right, yes," it gets awkward for a bit as memories resurface.

"for what it's worth, i'm really sorry for that day," you confess. "i've never stopped thinking about what could've been if i didn't leave,"

he looked away, not wanting to go down the lane and be reminded of all of that again.

"it's alright, i wouldn’t have haneul and hari, and you wouldn't have another hit movie under your belt either,"

it stung a little but he was right.

a little hope inside you that was still alive even after all of these years died down slowly, like a candle wick melting out along with the wax, it ran its course, now it's time for another candle.

you exchanged goodbyes and you watched him go inside and the muffled squeals and laughter of him and his daughter, and then the door opened again, this time, it was hari.

"uh, i'll get going now," you signal to your watch, "it’s getting dark, i should reach home before that,"

"wait, but i made dinner for you,"

she was such a sweetheart, you were so glad that they'd both found each other. the kid would grow up to be such a gentle person.

"thank you so much, but i'll come by next time, maybe, i promise,"

she stands on the porch until you take your car out of their driveway, waving lightly.

there was no next time, for the sake of your mental health, it was the last time you would ever see kim mingyu.

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wardenparker · 1 year

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 3

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: General audiences, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 16.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Flirting, discussions of deceased soulmates. Not too many warnings for this one, although Jack and shopping is a personal fantasy of mine. Summary: A party and a day out together give you some time to get to know Jack a little bit better. Notes: Sorry for the post delay this week, everyone, but thank you all for being so supportive. Health is a struggle but fiction is a beautiful escape.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Jack eyes Champ, frowning slightly at the older man as he shoots him a grin across the room. He's been cagey lately, smirking at him like he knows a secret that he won't tell Jack. Something that he knows drives the senior agent crazy. Instead of walking across the room and demanding he tell him what is on his mind, Jack turns towards you. Watching as you meet Ginger's soulmate, Gabriella.

Just a little get together, Diana had said when she called you, smiling down the phone as she issued the invitation. To celebrate! Well, Diana’s idea of small was two or three dozen people - all Statesman employees and their families - gathered at the Rogers’ house for a weekend barbecue. It seems like the whirlwind of introductions may never stop, but this bright and happy woman named Gabriella and the two children that she seems to be an expert at wrangling just put you at ease. Introducing yourself seems a little redundant since this is a party to welcome you specifically, but the kids don’t care - just as kids tend not to. They wave hello and ask their mother if they can go play with the other kids, and are off like a shot the instant they get a ‘yes’.

“They’re sweet,” you say, smiling despite how much you miss your niece and nephew. It’s only been five days since you saw them last, but that’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing them ever.

"They are wild." Gabriella corrects you with a laugh, looking after her kids with the fondness of a parent of someone well accustomed to their antics. "But they promised to behave under threat of torture."

“I wish that worked on my nephew.” When she pats the arm of the chair beside her, you sit down gratefully. Deciding to dress up for this party shouldn’t have included heels, that’s your own fault. “When my niece is finally old enough to be his sidekick, everyone’s going to be in trouble.”

"Menaces, huh?" She chuckles and sips her spiked lemonade before she shrugs, keeping an eye on her own troublemakers. "That just means they will have each other's backs when they are older."

“I hope so.” They have good examples to follow, at least, with how close you are to your siblings. Even if you’re not physically close to each other anymore. “So…this is what counts as a ‘little’ get together around here?” Diana had poured you a spiked lemonade a few moments ago, and you’d added peach nectar as your fruit flavor of choice from the bar of fruit flavored syrups and liqueurs by the large bar set up in the kitchen counter. It’s the best lemonade you’ve ever had in your life.

"Any excuse to have a party is Diana's reason for living." Gabriella jokes, motioning to where she is fluttering around talking to people with the largest smile on her face. Her husband ambles behind her, much slower in pace as he allows her to do as she pleases with a fond smile on his own face and a whiskey in his hand.

“A woman after my own heart,” you laugh, looking over in time to see a young man maybe a few years younger than yourself receive an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek and be shooed inside with lipstick on his cheek. “Their son?” It’s not exactly a stretch to guess. He has Champ’s stance and his mother’s thick head of hair.

"Bobby." She confirms with a nod. "He’s back home for a bit after being overseas for the last two years."

“Something fun, I hope.” But you won’t pry, enjoying the easy atmosphere on this sunny afternoon.

"Oh yeah, he's been traveling for Statesman and has been a little homesick." She murmurs, aware that you aren't aware of the real reason for international travel from some of the Statesman employees. Her wife had filled her in before the party.

“I like that it’s a family operation.” Turning back to Gabriella, you take a sip of your lemonade and smile. “Do you mind if I ask how long you’ve been here?” You don’t know their story - her and Astrid - but as the newest arrival to what Champ and Diana jovially call ‘the Statesman family’ you feel like you want to know everything.

Gabriella smiles, looking over at Astrid with stars in her eyes. “We found each other about seven years ago. Damn lucky honestly. What with–” She bites her lip, knowing she shouldn’t say the real reason. “Astrid doesn’t have any scars.”

“I noticed that a lot of people don’t seem to have tattoos, either.” It’s just a vague observation, but coming from the culinary world where so many of your coworkers have large pieces or even whole sleeves, it surprises you. “I guess I’m alone in that one.”

“Yeah.” Gabriella gives a slightly nervous chuckle. “There’s actually an incentive to have them removed here. You should look into it. If you want, of course.” If she could get you to remove the tattoos without any suspicion, Jack would be in the clear.

“Why would I want to do that?” Your left hand moves protectively to cover your right elbow, and you think back to your contract to make sure you haven't glazed over anything. There had certainly been a dress code portion of the employee handbook, but nothing about tattoos or piercings. Not even a note on ‘acceptable’ hair colors.

“I meant no offense.” She immediately back pedals and gives a small smile. “I’ve just known plenty of people here who have decided they don't want their tattoos anymore. People change what they once liked…you know.”

“Oh, sure.” That’s true, certainly, and you relax a little. “I guess that’s fair. I just can’t see a single reason I would want to get rid of mine. I just made sure to get it in a place that I could cover, ya know? Just in case. Some fine dining restaurants don’t like to have them showing.”

“Of course.” She bobbles her head quickly, not wanting to alienate you with a thoughtless comment. She wasn’t supposed to know that you are Jack’s soulmate but Astrid had let it slip. “I know all about the ‘professional’ world. I was in the corporate rat race before I found Astrid.”

“Then that makes you a much braver woman than I.” You laugh and sit back in your chair. “I don’t know how you survived it, honestly.” All that corporate nonsense does nothing for you and it never has - no part of your extraordinary life is ever going to revolve around file numbers.

“Oh I’m much happier now with our little house to keep and our kids to wrangle.” She promises. “And just listening to Astrid talk about work gives me all the adventure I could ever want.”

“It’s not that little.” No, you see their house in the walk to work every morning now, and it certainly isn’t petite like yours is. Not that you need more than that for just you and the Dormouse. “You’ve got your slice of heaven, I think. It’s kind of…” You shrug, figuring you’re probably over sharing, but it’s always coming out of your mouth. “Kind of what I always wanted. That idyllic family life.”

“I never knew I wanted it.” Gabriella has no problem admitting that she had never imagined domestic bliss or being a stay-at-home mom when she was climbing the corporate ladder. “Now, I couldn’t imagine anything else.”

“I wouldn’t give up my career for anything.” Anybody who asked you to would be in for a rude awakening. “But a family? That’s…that’s still the dream.” Even with your soulmate, the idea of finding someone isn’t ridiculous. Plenty of people do it every day…right?

“I understand.” Gabriella looks over to where her youngest has spotted Jack and is currently climbing up his leg. Jack smiles and laughs as he swings the boy up onto his shoulders, but there is the underlying sadness underneath. “Sometimes the dreams are all you have.”

“Sometimes they are.” Too lost in your own melancholy overlong losing your soulmate, you don’t see Gabriella’s eyes move to Jack with her son. You don’t even notice Astrid and Tex step up onto the porch together.

“Well, look at you.” Tex whistles as he looks you up and down. “Ain’t you pretty as a picture? You having fun?”

“Hey you.” The sound of his voice is familiar - one of the only things that is familiar around here - and you perk up a little to see two familiar faces. “You made it.” To be honest, you didn’t really know who Diana had invited, but you figured it was a good chance that Tex would be here considering he had been your flight companion and part of your testing team. He seems to be involved in everything the same way Jack is.

“Damn near didn’t.” Tequila admits. “Amsterda—” He cuts off abruptly and shakes his head. “I mean, an armadillo managed to get into one of the storage houses.” He covers his slip up with a mile wide grin. “But I made it.”

“Is that why I haven’t seen you in days?” You pop up from your seat to give him a hug and choose not to say anything about the fact that he was definitely about to say something else. “Because of an armadillo?”

“Tricky suckers.” He huffs, giving you an extra squeeze before he lets go of you. Gabriella sends Astrid a pointed look and then glances at Tequila.

“If I find one in my garden, I’m calling you.” It’s barely a threat, and you don’t have a proper garden yet, but you’ll get there eventually.

“You can call me even if you don’t.” Tex tells you, making Astrid clear her throat and capture everyone’s attention. “Should we get something to eat?” She asks when your head turns towards her.

“Lead the way.” Champ seems to have deputized his son to help him look after the large grill on the other side of the yard, and Jack is nearby with a drink in hand when the four of you approach together.

Astrid and Gabriella whisper together ahead of you as you make your way towards the tables laden down with sides and desserts. None of them yours yet, but a potluck off all those who wanted to contribute.

“I wish Diana hadn’t insisted on just being a guest.” Walking beside Tex, you look over at the table of various desserts with affection. Sweets are what you do, after all. “I would have made a couple of cakes to bring.”

"You aren't supposed to bring food to your own shindig." Jack huffs, walking up toward the group and nods towards you. "It's not how it's done here in the south, sugar."

“I guess I have a few things to learn.” You half step forward to offer him a hug, having left things on a good note after your night at the bar earlier in the week, but you’re not still quite sure what Jack thinks of you and you don’t want to make things weird - so instead you end up just stepping forward awkwardly and looking like your arms don’t work properly. “How have you been, Jack?”

He knows that you are expecting a hug and doesn't know quite how to ask for one. It's slightly awkward, especially since Jack just came back from the funeral of your former soulmate. It had taken a couple of days for his family to be notified and then another week for the body to be shipped back to his hometown. Jack hadn't introduced himself, just stood off a respectful distance while the man he had taken a future from had been lowered into the ground. "As good as I can be." He tells you, looping his arm around you and squeezing you to his side in a friendly manner, although his hand is lower than appropriate on your waist.

“I hope nothing’s wrong?” The side hug is a little awkward but there’s warmth to it - or at least there is to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you imagined that someone enjoyed your company more than they actually did. “Sweets can solve any myriad of problems, you know.”

"Nothing that a party with everyone I care about can't fix." Jack hums, a flash of pain that seems bittersweet and vague for Abigail not being here is almost as a reflex now. He suppresses it and grins. "But I'm eager for another sample of your cakes."

“I’m going to start working on the menu next week,” you tell everyone, chest absolutely bursting with pride. “So I’m going to need everybody to stop by the kitchen a couple of times to try out what I’ll be baking. As many times as you want to come by, I’d love to get the feedback.”

"Everyday." The promise pops out of his lips before he could ever even think about not speaking.

Not expecting such an immediate and earnest response, you practically beam. “Then I’ll start with cakes. By the end of the week you’ll never want to go near buttercream again.”

"Don't tell him that." Tequila rolls his eyes and shoulder checks Jack playfully. "This man keeps bags of candy in his desk all the time."

“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow at Jack and smirk. “What’s your favorite?” Sometimes the smallest thing can be a big inspiration, so you’re never going to shy away from asking the question.

Jack frowns at Tequila for ratting him out and huffs. "I like Snickers." He admits with a modest shrug of his shoulders.

“Noted.” The urge to do something in Jack’s honor on your menu is seemingly expanding far beyond his affinity for your tea sandwiches, but on the outside all you do is smile. You haven’t had a crush like this in ages, and it doesn’t help that you’re nursing one for Tex at the same time.

"I like Zero bars." Tex adds, his brows lifted hopefully as he pushes his hands into his pockets. He really likes you, drawn to you in a way he hasn't felt before and he wants to ask you out.

“Which are, arguably, a white chocolate version of a Snickers.” It starts to turn your wheels even more, wondering if you can’t do something with caramel and peanuts that uses two types of chocolate.

"I keep telling you that." Jack smirks at Tex and shakes his head. "Boy doesn't know anything."

“It just means they can work well together.” Completely oblivious to any undertones in the conversation, you just shrug your shoulders and let your wheels grind on a recipe idea while the group of you moves up along the picnic tables to get something to eat.

Tequila frowns at Jack but he doesn’t feel guilty. The boy needs to sniff around somewhere else. It’s obvious you aren’t interested and you’re grieving your soulmate.

“What in the hell is going on?” Ginger whispers, hiding in Jack’s ear as Gabriella and Tequila whisk you toward one end of the tables to the immense batch of tamales that Ginger’s wife made for the occasion.

“What are you talking about?” Jack asks, feigning ignorance. “We’re at a party. That’s what’s going on.”

“You and Tequila.” She fixes him with a frown and pushes her glasses up on her nose a little. “You’re not normally this subtle, I’ll give you that. But it’s like watching peacocks.”

“Peacocks?” Jack frowns and looks over at where you and Tequila have your heads together over the table and there are the sounds of laughter. “You’re imagining things.” He scoffs. “Nobody’s actin’ like a peacock. Just bein’ friendly to the girl.”

“Jack.” Ginger frowns. She wears her cover for her friends on her sleeve and makes no apologies for it. “I know you might not…all things considered, I get it. Not saying anything to her. But please tell me that you told him?”

“Sure I did.” Jack nods, rolling his eyes. “Showed him the damn tattoos the day Champ benched me.”

“But you’re sure he knows it’s her?” She asks, searching his face with concern. When he rolls his eyes, her eyes pinch shut immediately. “It’s February, Jack. It might be warm enough for a backyard barbecue, but we’re all still wearing long sleeves.”

“Come on Ging– he went to pick her up.” Jack scoffs. “Don’t you think Champ told him that he was on an escort mission for my supposed soulmate?

“Honestly?” She shrugs, biting the inside of her lip while she thinks. “I think Champ told as few people as possible. So maybe he didn’t.” There is nothing supposed about you, but this isn’t the moment for that argument.

“Don’t see why it matters.” Liar. The voice in his head screams it but Jack just ignores it and forges ahead. “They are friendly. End of story.”

“If you say so.” The last thing she wants is to start an argument, so she’ll let it go for now. But Ginger knows Jack and Tequila and she knows their habits - and you’re getting at least one request for a date for Valentine’s Day next week. She just doesn’t know which one of them will be first.

Jack is happy she’s willing to drop it. Uncomfortable with the conversation, although he does side eye Tequila before he dismisses it. It’s not like he has a claim over you even if it was true. You aren’t his soulmate and there’s no way he’s yours. Not when his heart died years ago.

It takes two full plates before you’re finally stuffed, sitting in the afternoon sun in Champ’s backyard as most of the party has migrated indoors in anticipation of that same sun setting. There are still a few stragglers outside and you’re happy to be one of them - enjoying the sun’s rays while they’re still there to beat down on you. It’s been a lively afternoon and you’ve met a lot of very nice people, but stealing a few minutes alone has been nice, too.

Jack notices you off alone, nursing his beer as he watches you. Wondering what you think about this place, everyone here. He huffs to himself and stands, closing the gap between the two of you with no clue as to why. “Appreciating the silence or wantin’ some company?” He asks, knowing that if you want to be alone he’ll respect that.

“I wouldn’t say no to company.” Shifting to one side on the little bench you’ve been occupying, you make room for him to sit. You’ve always come to the conclusion that it would take a hell of a lot for you to say no to Jack.

He tries to tell himself that he shouldn’t be so pleased that you accepted his presence, but that doesn’t stop the quiet pride filling his chest. “No regrets so far?” He asks, looking over the party. Champ would have found something to make you stay, but he’s curious as to you wanting to be here. “Get your stuff easy enough?”

“I’m planning on running out tomorrow for a few things, but honestly the house is great.” It’s not like you owned that much to begin with, and the house came fully furnished. You’re just going to go wandering around housewares stores tomorrow to pick up some personal touches and to try some local restaurants while you’re out. “Everybody’s been so nice. Astrid actually sent flowers after I settled in, and Champ’s given me a key to the restaurant so I can be in the kitchen whenever I want. It’s all…pretty perfect.”

Jack knows that Champ might have put a tracker in the keys that he gave you. But he doesn’t like the idea of you going to town without some protection. “Want some company? Tomorrow?” Jack hears the edge to his voice and scolds himself for acting like an idiot. “I mean, I’ve got some errands to run and you can put whatever you buy into the back of the Bronco.” He tells himself that he’s responsible, at least until your tattoo on his skin goes away. Still convinced it’s the universe’s idea of a sick joke.

“You wouldn’t mind?” It’s not flirting, you remind yourself, although your heart does seem to pick up speed a little at the offer. “I mean…I was going to have lunch out while I was picking things up. So…my treat? As a thank you for driving?”

It’s his immediate reaction to protest. To remind you that his daddy would box his ears, but he catches your eyes. Pride. He’s more than a little familiar with the trait and he sees that you aren’t one to just expect someone to go and do. That you need to contribute to the outing. So he nods. “If you want, I can take you to my favorite country kitchen.” He offers. “They do a buffet of all the things folks love around here. Give you a feel for the area.”

“I’d love that.” It’s exactly the kind of thing you were hoping to find for yourself, but doing it with him sounds infinitely better. “Most of what I know about Southern cooking comes from my grandma, so I definitely want to try as many local places as I can.”

“Best food ever, although, come hungry.” He warns you. “They will be asking why you aren’t going back for thirds.”

“You’re assuming I wouldn’t happily eat thirds,” you laugh, amused by his serious tone. “I’ll go back every week if it’s that good.”

“Have you ever had cornbread so thin it’s like a pancake and fried until it’s crispy on the edges?” Jack asks you with a grin.

“We have something like that at home.” Johnnycakes are a New England classic, and you fell in love with the quick and tasty cornmeal pancakes during culinary school. “But I can’t wait to try the Southern version.” It sounds like it would be perfect for a caviar service if the tea room ever got that fancy…

“That with a piece of catfish fried to perfection is just like momma used to make.” He confides, winking at you playfully.

“Sounds like heaven.” One of these days you really have to stop shivering whenever he winks at you. But it won’t be today.

“That sounds like a plan.” Jack hates shopping, but he’s not going to let you go out to town by yourself. Or with Tequila, although he knows the boy is leaving on another mission.

“I haven’t lived on my own for a while, so there’s just some finishing touches I don’t have,” you explain, wondering why you feel the need to actually explain yourself at all. It just sort of…compels itself out of your mouth.

“Oh?” It almost startles him how quickly he focuses on that. “Lived with a lover?” He asks. “Statesman will let you bring someone to live with you if you’re trying the long distance thing. It doesn’t work - trust me.”

“I know it doesn’t.” While you didn’t really have any intention of talking about it today, there’s a Nudging feeling inside you that just wants to spill everything to Jack. To lay yourself proverbially bare and let this whole new beginning at Statesman be made of honesty instead of hiding pieces of yourself away. “I—a few years ago, I was with this person. Someone I thought was really going to last, ya know? I mean it wasn’t my soulmate but we had been together for years. Anyway…they got offered a job in New York. And we had all these plans for me to drive down to them and visit on off days and to make things work and they just…” You sigh, hating that everything that happened with your ex still hurts so badly. “It only took them two weeks to find someone else. So I left the apartment we’d been living in with our other friend and moved back in with my family. My little sister had just given birth to my nephew and every pair of hands that could help was welcome.” Rubbing your eyes, you huff ruefully and shrug your shoulders. “Sorry if that’s oversharing, I guess.”

“It’s not.” Jack wants to reach out and hug you, and that’s exactly why he doesn’t. He doesn’t deserve to comfort you and he doesn’t trust himself to not try. “Whoever they were, they were an idiot.” He can’t imagine just finding someone else. Not when you claim to love them. It’s why he’s been very careful to make sure that what he did have was very surface level physical pleasure. He hasn’t had an intimate connection since Abigail. Not real intimacy.

“They’re somebody else’s problem now.” If you wanted to, you could probably argue to yourself that Jack moved closer with this small moment of comfort, but you don’t want to tease yourself like that. You do like him, but it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t see you as more than a potential friend, so you don’t want to push anything. “I appreciate that.”

"Hopefully they step on Legos in the dark for the rest of their life." Jack jokes.

“You are cruel.” It draws a laugh from you anyway, a grateful feeling from being supported in a moment of emotional need. Things like this are easy with Jack - no matter how nervous you may get from your little crush, the softest moments are always easy. “But…on point, honestly. A lifetime of barefoot Lego steps would be pretty suitable.”

He laughs and feels like the moment is light and easy with you. Letting it settle over him like a soft blanket.

“Oh…” The memory hits you immediately and out of nowhere, as you sit in a moment of comfortable silence with Jack. “Tomorrow…I was going to go dress shopping, also. I completely forgot. So…if that doesn’t exactly sound like fun for you, I’ll totally get it.” It would be a disappointment to not spend the day with Jack now that you’ve made the plan, but you can’t imagine that womens’ clothes shopping holds any great appeal for him.

“I don’t mind going dress shoppin’.” Jack shrugs. “You know that it could be fun.” He hums, unable to resist imagining you in a sleek and sexy dress.

“I said yes to this wedding invitation ages ago and I just…haven't had any time to prepare.” The impulse to continue to explain yourself is obviously strong. “The plan was just to ignore my plus one and drive down to Boston on the day, but now it’ll be a flight and a hotel and all kinds of craziness and I—” You shrug. “They’re family, so I can’t just not go. So…I have to find a dress.”

“Wedding huh?” He relaxes slightly and shrugs. “You don’t have to ignore the plus one, I’m sure someone would love to go to a wedding.”

“Well, I’m friendly with about six people at the moment, and four of them are married couples.” Hope flames so strong in your chest that you’re sure he must see it. Maybe misinterpreted as a flash of desperation, but that isn’t it. You’re just…so fucking drawn to him. “So unless you or Tex is willing, I’ll just hang out with my siblings that night like I’ve been planning.”

“When and where is this little shindig happening?” Jack asks, smirking as he imagines perching you on his arm for a wedding and seeing how the rest of your family is. Even though the thought confuses him.

“The Whitney Hotel in Boston, a week from today.” Hope. It flares bright and beautiful in your whole body but you try not to look too much like a fawning schoolgirl. Without knowing how old Jack is, you would guess that he had about ten years on you, and you don’t want to come across as immature when you’re just being sincere.

Instantly, it’s like a bucket of ice water has been poured over his head. Except it’s no team celebration for winning a playoff or prank by Tequila. It’s the horror of realizing that you would have met the man you were supposed to be with if Jack hadn’t been there two weeks ago. Guilt curls in Jack’s stomach and the barbecue and baked beans he had eaten along with about a fourth of the dessert table threatens to make a reappearance. “Sounds- sounds good, sugar.” Jack manages to croak as he leaps ungracefully to his feet. “Excuse me.” He can’t even tip his hat towards you before he is rushing across the yard like the hounds of hell are after him.

******

“I miss you guys.” Hours later, on the phone with your sister, you still haven’t quite shaken the unease left behind by Jack’s abrupt exit from the party. Everyone has started going their separate ways by evening time and you had come home with the intention of starting to write out a shopping list for tomorrow, only to be interrupted by a call from Eliza. “How are my little prince and princess doing?”

“Missing their favorite aunt.” She huffs, even though she’s laughing down the phone. “Driving me crazy and asking when they are going to see you again.”

“At Cassie’s wedding.” You promise, shifting the phone in your hand as you look out into your backyard from the bedroom window seat. “I’m not skipping out on my family just because I moved.”

“I felt like you weren’t going to miss it.” She agrees, happy to hear it. “Have you found your dress already?”

“I’m going shopping tomorrow.” Obviously not with her, like you had been planning, but you’re still going to get it done. Even if Jack backs out of coming with you after leaving the party on such a weird note, you still need to go. “I need a couple more things for the house, so tomorrow is going to be dresses and housewares.”

“I’m so excited to see you.” She huffs, even though it’s only been a couple of days. “Are you settling in okay? I’m just amazed that the job comes with housing.”

“It’s like a little company town out here. There’s a whole neighborhood of full time employees and we all have these cute little houses and manicured yards. And the guest room is open any time you want to come visit.” Other places might have made it suspect or oppressive, but Statesman seemed to thrive on being a family company. “The owner even threw a little welcome party this afternoon. Backyard barbecue, amazing drinks, lots of people just hanging out and kids playing. I met most of the higher ups.”

“It sounds amazing. Friendly atmosphere plus booze?” She laughs. “Tell me the men are handsome.”

“I—” You laugh before you can stop yourself, glancing out the window again into the backyard of the house next door - owned by a woman you met today who works in HR. “Yeah. I’m not even going to be coy about it. Some of these men are stunning.”

“Really?” She knows you can hear the wicked grin on her face through the phone. “Tell me allllllll about them. I need a little cowboy in my life.” She laughs again, well aware she’s never even really interacted with one before but you are in the thick of them apparently.

“So…there are two that stick out.” The only person in the world who knows all your stupid relationship and crush bullshit is your sister. She’s been your best friend for your whole life and never wavered. “They both work security, and they’re…” This time when you laugh it’s a slightly embarrassed sound. “They’re really close friends. So I’m trying not to rock any boats by showing interest.”

“Let me guess, there is one of them that’s older and you like that one best?” She knows her sister better than anyone and whether you want to admit it or not, you have an eye for older men.

“Shut up.” There’s no heat whatsoever behind the scolding and you end up laughing at yourself, appreciating that Eliza isn’t beating around the bush with you. “There is, but if you meet him you have to swear not to embarrass me.”

“Ohhhh, I can meet him?” She asks evilly. “Are you bringing him to the wedding?”

“Maybe.” A part of you instantly wishes you hadn’t said anything, but you know that Eliza always has the best advice. “I don’t know. He offered to go shopping with me tomorrow and come to the wedding but then immediately got weird about it and I don’t know what to think. I’m getting super mixed signals from him.”

“Why do you think he got weird about it? Most men get weird about the wedding part, but you said he basically agreed to go with you, right?” She asks.

“He offered, I didn’t even really ask.” The kids in the yard next door are cackling, laughing as they play with their dog, and you watch them so that you don’t relocate to the living room windows downstairs - which gives you a view of Jack’s house. “It’s like…remember I told you I went to a bar earlier in the week and cleaned up some bikers at a pool game?” At the time, you hadn’t exactly told her the entire story.

“Yeah?” On her end of the phone, she ticks her eyebrow up curiously. “Did you go with old handsome?”

“He’s not old!” You both laugh anyway. “But yes. I went with Jack.” There is a longer-than-necessary pause while you debate with yourself, but you end up shrugging your shoulders. “He calls me ‘sugar’, but I really don’t think I should be reading too much into that because even my boss uses nicknames with literally everyone. It’s just a Southern thing.”

“But he wants to go shopping with you?” She reminds you. “Most men hate shopping.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna let him into the dressing room.” You protest, although you immediately think that if he made a move, you probably would.

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Clearly not believing your bullshit, she laughs. “Maybe he has something weird about the date? A Valentine’s Day wedding is very sappy.”

“Maybe. I really don’t know. And I don’t want to pry, ya know? Because as much as I get mixed signals from Jack, Tex has been nothing but sweet.” Talking it out will help, you tell yourself. It absolutely is not just going to pave the way for further frustration…

“But you don’t really want sweet.” She guesses. “Do you? You’ve always been attracted to the troublemakers.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re both trouble.” Another laugh bubbles out of you and you shake your head. “Remember the guy that came back on the jet with me to help me pack? That was Tex.”

“Oh he was cute, you mean the other one is even better looking? You better bring his ass to the wedding.” She huffs. “Bring both of them.”

“You want me to just strut into our cousin’s wedding with a cowboy in either arm?” God…your whole family would just lose their minds…

“Fuck…a girl can dream can’t she?” Your sister giggles. “I’ll be living vicariously through you.”

“Oh please.” Rolling your eyes is a useless gesture because she can’t see you, but you’re sure she can hear it in your voice. “Is having a surgeon for a husband not enough of a bragging right anymore?” You adore her husband - They’ve been together since high school and discovered their soulmate status after she graduated - but that doesn’t mean you won’t tease her. “Picture perfect kids, a successful husband, and your own amazing career aren’t doing the trick these days?”

“Nope.” She has zero shame and you know it. “I want to hear how hot cowboy sex is.”

When you huff at her it’s supposed to be indignant, but it comes out completely agonized. “If I ever have any, I promise I’ll let you know. But I genuinely doubt I have an actual chance.”

“Please, you’re gorgeous and it sounds like both of them are sniffing around.” She teases. “They want your sugar.”

“I never should have told you that,” you groan, knowing it will probably never die now.

“Hell no, you should save a horse and ride a cowboy.” She laughs and loves how you are sounding better. She knows about your loss of a soulmate and how much it has affected you.

“Oookay.” Snickering, you let out a sigh that is actually more like a half-groan and wipe one hand down your face. “Tell the kids I love them, will you? I’m going to see if I can get some sleep. I think I ate my body weight in barbecue today and it’s catching up with me.”

“I will, okay. I love you,” As much as she misses you, it’s best that you have a fresh start and it sounds like Kentucky is a good place for you.

“I love you, too.” Faintly on the other end, you can hear your mother’s dog barking and laugh softly. The sounds of home are absolute comfort and you do miss it. But this is the right place for you to be right now. “I’ll try to text you a sneaky picture of Jack tomorrow.”

“You better.” She warns you with a cackle. “Otherwise I’m going to embarrass you when he comes to the wedding.”

“If.” The nagging feeling you have that he doesn’t want to go is very real, but there’s nothing you can do about it. He either will or he won’t, and that’s that. “I’ll talk to you later in the week.” Another round of goodbyes is murmured before you hang up, and you sit in the window seat a while longer before dragging yourself to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

******

Jack feels like an ass. No– he is an ass. Actin’ like a fucking pup who had been scolded as he shot across the lawn and away from you. There’s nothing coincidental about where your little wedding is being held and he knows that artistically culinary talented you would have made your way to the kitchens even if they were off limits. He just knows it. Now, he’s watching your house like a damned stalker. Wanting to still keep his promises even though you might slam the door in his face. Spending most of the night up, hearing Abigail’s voice in his head, chewing him a new one for not apologizing for his behavior earlier. As soon as he sees movement, Jack is out the door. His jeaned legs eating up the distance between your house and his, ready to go if you're still wanting, and ready to apologize and just let you use his Bronco if you’re not.

Up, showered, and dressed after a night of lousy sleep and bad dreams, you drag yourself downstairs to make a cup of coffee. This coffeemaker is going to be the first thing you replace, you’ve decided, because you can finally afford a fancy espresso machine like you’ve always wanted. Kitchen gadgets are happening today, and it’s going to be a good time. Whether you go alone or otherwise, you tell yourself. Not knowing what the hell happened with Jack yesterday, you’re not assuming you’ll see him. Until your doorbell rings. Hopefully that’s just Jack holding up his promise to come with you, and not some random coworker wondering if you’ll be coming to church with them.

Shuffling on your small porch, Jack adjusts his hat before he swipes it off his head altogether. Nervous as a teenager going to his first dance, Jack rolls his eyes at himself. He just needs to relax, but for some reason he can't. He doesn't like the idea of you being mad at him. His stomach flips as he hears you walking towards the door.

The door swings open without a single creak, and you bite the inside of your lip when you see him standing there on your porch. “Morning, Jack,” you murmur, stepping aside to let him in. Whether this is an excuse not to come out today or an explanation for his departure last night, you have to admit that you’re just glad to see him. It means you probably didn’t do some unknown mysterious horrible thing to make him hate you - which is definitely what every dream you had last night was about.

Your neutral greeting gives him a smidgeon of hope and feels tension draining away in minute amounts. "Sugar, I-" He steps inside and huffs. "I need to apologize for leavin' so quickly yesterday." He turns and stares at you with a repentant expression on his face. "After makin' a fool of myself, I realized we didn't set our plans for today in concrete and while you might not even want the addition of my presence to your outing, I didn't want to be even more of an asshole and not show up." He manages to rattle this off in one breath and stops to inhale. "However, if you're wishin' to not be in my company, I at least want to offer the use of my bronco to you, since that had been a main sellin' point of the day." Offering for someone to drive Betsy is unheard of, but he's pulling his keys out of his leather jacket to extend them to you if you want.

Verbose. Jack Daniels is a verbose man, who can and will turn any four word sentence into four paragraphs. But you don’t hate that - it flies in the face of ‘quick’ communication like texting or shouting across a kitchen. It’s kind of nice, actually, when you’re not generally upset. “Did I say something wrong?” You finally ask, looking from his keys up to the sincere expression of reticence on his face. “Or did I do something to make you leave?”

"No." Jack assures you quickly, shaking his head and wondering how the hell he could possibly explain. "It was all me, sugar. All me and I apologize for worryin' you. It was never- I feel nearly sick at the idea of makin' you think that you had done anything." He's going to just pray you don't ask him for details.

“But everything’s okay?” If it wasn’t you, then it likely was something personal, and he seems like a fairly private person. A conclusion that’s only being reinforced by the fact that he hasn’t actually explained what happened. You decide, though, that you’ve only known the man a week and he doesn’t owe you his life story, so a sincere apology is enough.

"Right as rain, sugar." He manages to paint on a half grin, rocking forward towards you and there is a magnetism that he feels, like he's being drawn to you. "Does this mean you might still want me to squire you around town?" It's old fashioned and a little a lot flirty, but it feels right.

“Do you want a cup of coffee before we go?” Closing the front door is the silent signal that you want him to stay, and you can feel relief coursing through you that he seems to want to do this. The last thing you would ever want to do is drag him along unwillingly.

"If you're havin' one. If not, we can always swing by the best little coffee shop in town." Jack offers, not wanting to inconvenience you.

“We could do that.” Instead of retreating back into the kitchen, you reach for your jacket and purse instead. “A new coffee maker is on the list of things we’re picking up today.”

Jack chuckles as looks at your standard Mr. Coffee maker that was left in the cabins. "Doesn't quite do it for you?" He guesses, figuring you drink those fancy coffees with art made from the foam.

“My very first job was as a barista in a bakery in the town where I grew up,” you tell him. Keys, phone, purse, jacket, you’ve got everything you need so you open the door again and move to set the alarm via the panel on the wall. “I started drinking espresso and never looked back.”

"Figured." He gives a small chuckle and waits for you patiently, his hand moving to the small of your back when the two of you set out of the cabin and you close the door behind you. "Have you set up your biometric lock yet?" He asks, noticing that you are using the fob for the door.

“Not yet.” Keys go into your purse and you close your eyes momentarily against the warmth of his hand at your back. “Someone is coming tomorrow morning to set it up. Then I’ll lock myself in the kitchen at the restaurant and bake cakes all day.”

"What kind of cakes?" Jack immediately starts drooling, imagining what you might make. His sweet tooth is happy at the prospect.

“Well everybody seemed to like the coconut cake, so I think I’ll leave that recipe alone.” He opens the door of the Bronco for you and you slide in, loving that Kentucky in February is warm enough for an open air drive. “I think I’ll work on the red velvet or a hummingbird cake first. Try to nail down the classics.”

"Diana will adore you if you make her a fancy red velvet." Jack promises you as the two of you get situated in the truck and he turns the engine over. "And Champ will adore you for his wife being happy."

“They’re very sweet together.” The older couple have been nothing but lovely and welcoming to you, and you’re grateful for it. “And I wouldn’t dare open a tea room in the south without red velvet cake on the menu.”

"Maybe one of those scone thingys." Jack rolls his eyes. "She's always talkin' about how no one makes scones here."

"I can do scones." Any suggestions he has are more than welcome, as they give you a pretty good idea of what people in the area are actually looking to eat and that helps you focus your energy while you're putting together your menu. "Scones. Tea sandwiches. Maybe tartlets or quiches. I have way too many ideas."

"Was this always your dream?" He asks, pulling onto the main road and heading towards town. It's in the opposite direction of the bar he had taken you to the first time, but it's amusing to think that he has been showing you all the area himself.

"For my career?" You glance at him as he drives, recognizing the placid look of contentment there. He likes to drive, and you file that away in the back of your mind. "I mean, I did have a pretty decent stretch of time as a kid where I wanted to be a princess, and then about a month in middle school when I decided that I wanted to build a time machine, but...yeah. I pretty much always knew I wanted to be a chef. The debate was savory or pastry, and obviously pastry won."

"You're good at both." He promises you with a chuckle, enjoying the sass that seems to come naturally to you. "A princess, huh?" He looks over at you with a grin. "You know that job title comes with a high chance of being stuck in a tower, right?"

"Yeah, but traditionally it also comes with a handsome prince and really good clothes, so nine-year-old me was okay with it." When he laughs softly you grin, glad to see the tension between you has dissipated. "What about you? Was CEO of an international distillery always on your radar?"

"Definitely not." Jack shakes his head and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Smaller plans. Much smaller." He thinks about all the dreams him and Abigail had talked about, laying in the dark and holding onto one another. "Just a happy life, family, you know - the normal stuff."

"Not everything happens early in life. Sometimes the best things are worth waiting for." Obviously he never got his wish - or at least he hasn't yet - and you frown slightly. Surely he hasn't had any shortage of offers? He must be waiting for his soulmate, and you can't blame him for that.

"Yeah." It's better to agree instead of laying out his own sob story. He knows it would make you soft, probably make you want to comfort him and although he's enough of a man to appreciate the ways women love to comfort widowers - he can't do that with you. He's already doing more than he needs. He should be maintaining some distance but he can't quite stay away.

"It's none of my business." You know that, and can recognize it, but there's something about Jack that just continues to draw you like a magnet. "But if you ever want to talk about it...you very literally know where I live."

"I appreciate it, sugar." He does, he really does but he doesn't want to talk about that right now. Not when the day is turning out to be a beautiful one.

The drive turns back to pleasanter topics and Jack lets you play with the radio, laughing when you settle on a classic rock station just before he pulls into the parking lot of his little coffee shop. There are plenty of chains around - Louisville is a city after all - but Jack prefers this little place to Starbucks or - according to him - just about any place else.

“The corporate places are okay- don’t get me wrong, but you can’t get that hankering for something unusual and bring in what you need and have them make it for you like you can here.” He offers, opening the door onto the small coffee shop.

The smell is brilliant, hitting you in the face all at once, and you inhale almost greedily. Whatever sweets they're doing here, they're baking fresh. It washes over you and makes you eager to get up to the counter to see what they're working with. "What's your favorite?" You ask Jack, seeing a fairly standard bar menu when it comes to coffee drinks, but a plethora of tea options and syrups for flavor.

Jack grins at you, sure that you’re going to give him a dirty look. “Plain black coffee.”

"I can't believe you don't drink sweet coffee with the way you go after desserts." Is it teasing? Probably. But it's still a surprise.

“The bitterness of the coffee enhances the sweets.” Jack argues, huffing slightly. “I will have some of that syrup in a coffee if I’m not having a pastry with it, but that’s rare.”

"You know you don't have to defend that to me." You nudge him a little as the two of you step into line. "I always put a little coffee in my chocolate things. It amps up the flavor so much."

“Well then you should know.” He grins, eyes greedy as they roam over the case. Trying to see what they have for today. “They change pastries daily.”

"How often do you come in here?" It must be a lot, judging from the way the baristas call their hellos to him by name, and the cup of coffee already waiting for him at the counter when the two of you finally make it to the front of the line.

"It's my go to spot when I'm in town." He admits, shooting the girls behind the counter a wink and a nod for the coffee. "I'll take one of those sausage, maple and blueberry crumb cakes." He tells the one waiting for his pastry order. "They look good."

"Could I have one of the tomato, leek, and goat cheese quiches?" You ask, when the girl nods to Jack and asks you for your order right away. "And a café au lait of whatever your single origin coffee in today." The cashier dutifully types everything in, gets your milk preference, and gets everything moving. "Is it even worth my offering to pay?" You ask Jack, slightly smirking at how you had to bargain to even get him to allow you to pay for lunch when you planned out today.

"Nope." Jack shakes his head and his own wallet comes out. "I don't think you understand how badly my daddy would whoop my ass." He chuckles.

"Thank you for breakfast, then." If it's something he feels strongly about, then you'll learn to pick your battles. He's sure as hell not paying for any of your shopping today. "I wouldn't want your daddy to appear out of nowhere just because I'm stubborn."

"He'd be coming from the grave, so don't put it past him." Jack jokes, shuffling down the line and collecting his cup while you wait for the pastries and your own coffee. "Man could probably convince Satan himself to open the gates of hell to let him come back to whoop me."

You snort, laughing as you bring over plates of warm pastries and your oversized coffee to the table he has chosen. "Sounds like our fathers would have gotten along," you admit ruefully. "I love my dad but he is a ballbuster of the highest degree."

"Something about a father that does that." He murmurs, remembering his own pride at learning he was going to be papa. It had been the proudest seven months of his life.

"Yeah, I noticed that with my brother-in-law." Everything looks amazing, and you hum happily over the first sip of your coffee. Sweet and creamy but not overpowering the natural flavors of the coffee. You might have to see if this shop is interested in partnering, so you can use their coffee in the restaurant.

Jack is damn thankful that you didn't pick up on the momentary flash of pain, maybe he hid it well enough. Instead of saying anything else about it, he just ticks a brow up. "So? Whadya think?"

He had to ask while you have food in your mouth? You roll your eyes at him for a second but grin, nodding as you finish chewing the perfect first bite. Choosing not to say anything about the dark clouds in his eyes was apparently a good choice - you're just desperate not to do anything to rock the boat between you. "It's sooo good," you groan after a second, laughing at your own exaggerated reaction.

"Try some of mine." He offers, nudging a piece of his crumb cake with scrambled sausage, fresh blueberries and dots of real maple syrup over towards you along with his plain coffee.

Immediately offering him the same, you both try each others' breakfasts and hum happily. Whatever this place is using for their house coffee blend, it works gorgeously with maple. You'll have to remember that if they agree to a partnership. "So everything is good here? That's the vibe I'm getting?"

"Eh." Jack shrugs. "I don't like some of their stuff. Their cookies are a little too crumbly. I like 'em soft and chewy."

"How do you feel about shortbread?" The question comes with a raised eyebrow as you switch breakfasts again and file away Jack's cookie preferences. You're still not sure why you're so invested in making sure that everything you make is going to be to his taste, but it feels important that it is.

"Only if they have a sweet jam on top or sandwiched between layers." Jack admits, giving a small shrug.

"You realize that you have been all of my menu consults so far?" You ask him, thoroughly enjoying your breakfast and trying not to look too embarrassed or eager about that fact. "I ought to just call the place Jack's."

The joke makes him grin, contemplating it seriously for a moment before he shakes his head. "You don't have to take all my advice, sugar. I just like what you're offerin'."

"I'm sure I'll make something that doesn't suit you but everyone else likes, and that's fine." It's an inevitability of your career. Not everyone is going to like every single item on the menu. But that's why having multiple testers is important. "Champ's giving me three months to get the place up and running. He wants to have it ready for the summer tourist season, so I'll be asking for plenty more opinions before that time comes."

"I'm sure it will be amazing." Jack praises honestly. "You seem like you have a passion for makin' people happy and their belt tighter."

"Hopefully." The sting is unexpected - how the thought that smacks you out of nowhere is wondering whether or not your soulmate would have liked your baking. "Hopefully."

Jack sees the way your mood shifts, and he knows it's because of him. From what he can tell, you had been looking forward to a future with your soulmate and he's taken that from you. Guilt settles on him and suddenly, he's not hungry anymore.

An uneasy silence settles between you and you know it's your fault, the thick melancholy hanging over your shoulders making you blurt out and unasked for explanation. "My soulmate died," you tell him, not able to actually look him in the eye but staring into your coffee instead. "Less than two weeks ago. So I'm sorry if I get...awkward sometimes. I never met them or anything, it's just...it's hard to adjust to."

His stomach drops and he opens his mouth to confess. To take the look of sadness off your face and replace it with anger. Maybe it would help you. Help you focus on something else, direct your emotions on hating him. His lips part and the words are on the tip of his tongue. "I'm sorry," is what comes out instead. "I know how you feel, losing someone - I mean."

"Did you--?" Your fingers squeeze into fists on the table, curling in on yourself to try to keep from crying in public. Jack is the first person beyond your immediate family that you've told, and saying the words out loud again makes you ache. "Your soulmate?"

He figures it's safe. That if you know he's lost a soulmate you wouldn't think he has your marks on his body. After all, he's never heard of another set of soulmates in real life. It's always that hopeful whisper. "Yeah." He admits, frowning slightly and reaching out for your hands to cover them with his before he realizes he's doing it. "Her and- and our little boy."

"Oh my god..." Immediately feeling mortified, your fingers open to squeeze his instead of letting your nails bite into your palm. "I'm so sorry. Here I am getting upset about someone I never even met and you...you lost both of them. Shit, Jack."

"It was a long time ago." Jack offers, not wanting you to feel even worse than you do. "You just- it's different. You are allowed to grieve, sugar."

"I think it's part of why I took this job," you admit, feeling all the thoughts you've been keeping a lid on come bubbling to the surface. "A new start, ya know? A brand new life. I have no idea what it would have been like if I had known them, but I'm willing to bet anything that I wouldn't be working at Statesman if I had." Something makes you absolutely certain of it, in fact, and that's almost comforting. Everything in this new life is something you'll choose for yourself.

Jack's nodding covers the way that he swallows, knowing that you had no choice in this. The ink on his skin makes sure that you would end up at Statesman. He can only hope that you are happy here. "Statesman was my fresh start." He tells you honestly.

“And look how well you’ve done for yourself.” The smile on your face might actually be pride, except you have no claim over him in any kind of way that would justify that feeling. “All the way to CEO. I don’t think that it’s…any kind of exaggeration at all…to think that she’d be so proud of you.”

He tells himself that you are trying to be nice. Smiling weakly and giving a small shrug. "Hopefully so."

“Well,” you shrug, sensing that the topic isn’t exactly comforting to him, and pick up your coffee again. “I would be, if I were your soulmate.”

Jack closes his eyes and gives a soft chuckle. "If I were your soulmate, you'd hate me, sugar." He tells you, knowing that the secret he keeps from you would completely change your thoughts on him.

“I doubt it.” There are very few people on earth that you actually hate, and you can’t imagine a single thing he could ever do to cause that kind of reaction from you. “But I guess we’ll never know.”

"Yeah." That was true because he knew that no one was going to tell you. You would be happy and safe here at Statesman, maybe meet someone and fall in love with them, never aware that Jack is your soulmate. He frowns deeply at that thought and takes a sip of his coffee as he wonders why he hates that idea.

******

Dragging him around Pottery Barn and Williams-Sonoma ends up being a fully entertaining morning after an awkward breakfast. The shiny kitchen appliances and soft, fluffy throw pillows and blankets that end up in his Bronco pile up, punctuated with scented candles, a few decor pieces, and a beautiful full set of dishes and glasses for your table. The house stuff is easy, earns you a little teasing here and there, and is done before you know it.

"Where to now, sugar?" Jack asks, raising a brow at everything that is packed in the back. "Your dress or you want some more knick knacks?" He is in an indulgent mood and the slight bickering you had entertained him with had showcased how funny you are.

“Seems like dress time. I think I can put off more knick-knacks for another day.” You laugh and roll your eyes at him playfully. Jack had ragged on you the entire time you were in Bath & Body Works picking out scented candles, just as bad as the search for decor items in Pottery Barn. “You keep teasing me and I’m gonna make you buy me flowers for my new vase.”

"Aww, sugar, now you've gone and ruined my housewarming gift." He huffs, scowling at you playfully. He hadn't really been thinking about getting you flowers, but now that you mention it - it seems like a fine idea. "I'll get you the best ragweed Kentucky has to offer."

“If you do, you’ll lose taste testing privileges.” That is a very real threat, since your allergies affect your senses of smell and taste fairly dramatically. Allergies have cost you more than one exam grade in culinary school.

"No ragweed. Check." Jack drolls, just to make you laugh as he guides the Bronco towards some boutique that the women folk went to. Ginger had designed several outfits for formal affairs off what she had seen there.

“This is fancy.” When he pulls up in front of the building you can see into the big picture windows. Ladies sitting on settees with glasses of champagne that is probably cava - just as delicious at a third of the price - and women in crisp suits toting beautiful gowns in and out of dressing rooms.

"Hopefully you can find something beautiful here." He tells you. "They dress a lot of people around here for fancy things."

“Statesman people for fancy Statesman things?” You both climb out of the truck and he leads you to the door, giving you the feeling once more that all his gentlemanly behavior is just how he is with women and has nothing to do with you. Which is fine. It is. You’re just trying to talk your crush down off that ledge before you do or say something stupid. “I’m sure I’ll find something.” But your credit card will be laid respectfully to rest after today for a very long time.

"Sometimes." Jack grins. "We get a hell of a discount here."

“Now you’re talking my language.” The grin you shoot him is broad, morphing into something infinitely more amused when the woman behind the counter recognizes him immediately. “Mr. Daniels!” She practically purrs. “What can we do for you on this beautiful day?”

"Now Stephanie..." Jack turns and introduces you to the shop owner. "This here is our newest Statesman employee and she's lookin' for a dress." He tells her. "And of course, your shop was the first and only one I could recommend to her."

“Oh, you’re too kind.” She titters, downright blushing like he’s just outright flirted. It makes your stomach twist in something awful like jealousy. “My dear, what occasion do you need to be dressed for?”

“Um…a formal wedding.” You know you should have taken care of this ages ago, but if you’re honest with yourself you had just figured you would raid your sister’s closet and called it a day. She has plenty of nice things. “Black tie optional, the invitation said.”

"Black tie." She purses her lips and cuts her eyes over at Jack playfully. "I'm assuming you're attending and wearing the velvet Tom Ford we tailored to you with the black stetson?" She asks, tapping her finger to chin thoughtfully. "We will get a bow tie and pocket square that matches the color of the dress we find her." She decides.

“I really appreciate the help.” That’s undeniable. Clearly you hadn’t managed to get this done just by walking through a mall. “The, uh…the wedding colors are pink and white…if that helps? Obviously no one wears white to a wedding but I guess no pink, either?”

"Red is a no-no." She hums and her eyes light up as she thinks of a dress. "What about a blush champagne colored dress?" She offers. "I have a new design I just got in and it would look magnificent with your coloring."

"That sounds like a good place to start." You nod gratefully and let her whisk the pair of you over to one of the smaller sitting areas beside a dressing room. As soon as she disappears down a hallway another young woman appears with drinks and all but winks at Jack when she hands his over.

Jack winks back at her and nods in appreciation of the drink before he turns to you. "What do you think of this place?" He asks, looking around at it like he hasn't been there a hundred times.

"I have a feeling I'm nowhere near the first woman you've brought here for a dress." It's just an observation, and you try very hard not to sound sour about it, but your stomach is churning as you set your drink down on the small table beside you. "It's nice. They obviously take pride in their business."

"Well, I've brought Astrid, Gabriella, Diana when she wanted to surprise Champ." Jack ticks off names playfully, aware that's not how you meant it, but it's kind of rewarding to see the tinge of jealousy in your eyes.

"I do...appreciate you doing this." There is absolutely no reason to be jealous. Just because you have a stupid crush on the man does not mean he owes you anything. "I know it's a big ask, this whole weekend away thing. Even more so because we really just met."

He gives you a smile, shoving down the worries and insecurities under the veneer of confidence. "It's not a big deal, we'll go and drink, dance, have some canapés and you'll tell me who is the family black sheep and I'll make friends with them."

You snort, shaking your head at him and reaching for your drink as an anchor. "You already have," you tell him honestly. "I'm her."

"Now why would you be the black sheep?" Jack huffs, shaking his head at the mere thought.

"It's more like my family are the black sheep family out of the whole extended group." Having very independent and capable parents with strong opinions had meant that you and your siblings turned out just as independent and opinionated. "But my siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles and all of that...even my parents...they all have really incredible success stories in their education and careers, and everyone in my family has married their soulmate. No one is even going to believe that the restaurant is real. They all turned up their noses when I chose pastry in culinary school. Apparently bakers can't be celebrity chefs, and if I'm not a celebrity chef then I'm nobody." You shrug, long having since given up on gaining the approval of your extended family. "My parents and my siblings are great. And that's really all I care about."

"Ahhhh." Jack nods as he settles back in his chair. "I bet you would blow their fifty dollar socks off when you get your tea room set up. Have you come up with a name yet?"

"I'm still debating." One sip from your glass proves that you were right about the theory that it was cava to save money, but it's still a lovely glass of bubbly. "An Alice in Wonderland reference probably won't mesh with the general feeling around Statesman, so I might name it after my grandmother."

Jack gives a small shrug. "You could always call it The Rabbit-Hole and use the Red Rabbit Burrow blend they are working on marketing for." He tells you, thinking about the new line that is about to come out.

You stare, mouth open, and a hollow laugh sticks in your throat while your brain vaguely short circuits. If you had known about this new blend, you would already have the name down on the paperwork. "I could kiss you." Is the declaration that comes out of your mouth instead, gratitude and giddy glee reaching all the way to your toes. "Jack, that's perfect!"

It's on the tip of his tongue to take you up on that offer, watching your eyes light up with delight and joy. Making you seem even more beautiful than you normally are. "It's going to be launching in about five months." He tells you with an offhand shrug. "I can get you a few gallons to sample and experiment with if you want."

"That would be amazing." You're already itching to get your hands on it, wondering what the tasting notes will be like and what you can pair it with. "The Rabbit-Hole." Humming happily, you barely manage to keep your little wiggling happy dance under wraps when the woman - Stephanie - comes back with a handful of dresses.

Jack takes your glass of champagne from you and smirks. “Go play with the dresses and pretend you're a princess, sugar.” He winks and motions you off.

The large handful of dresses that Stephanie has reappeared with are grand and sparkling in tone of gold, champagne, and rose that will obviously compliment a pink-themed wedding but not upstage it. She seems to have picked out a style she likes for you - glamorous and evoking a bombshell look that would guarantee that the first person anyone in the room looks at after the bride, will be you. "These are stunning," you breathe, letting your fingers graze the sequins on the first dress on the rack. "I've never worn anything like them. But...I guess after today I won't be able to say that."

“Try them all on.” Jack encourages you. “We don’t have anywhere else to be.”

He's right, of course. The only other plan you have today is to have dinner together, so you disappear into the fitting room to swap your clothes for the first dress that might wind up in your closet by the end of the afternoon. The cut is flattering and the color is brilliant, but it doesn't quite feel right in some amorphous way that you can't quite put your finger on. Still, you step out to show Jack and see what he has to say.

Jack whistles and his eyes drag up and down your body. “Damn, sugar.” He huffs. “How do you like it?”

You can't help preening a little, even though you're sure he would compliment absolutely anyone he was with the same way. "It's nice, but I don't think it's quite right. I do love the color, though."

“Well then I guess we can mark that off the list.” Jack smirks. “Next one sugar.”

The next two dresses are nixed - one by you and one by Jack, who insists that the skirt doesn't fall right and you just end up smiling and nodding because you're trying not to spontaneously combust from him paying so much attention to your figure. When you go back into the dressing room, you skip the next one that Stephanie had chosen for you and go straight to the last, sighing over the flowers embroidered all over the dress and its accompanying sheer cape. The rose coloured fabric is darker than the Barbie-pink you know your cousin has chosen and the purple and gold accents make it fascinating to watch shimmer. It's gorgeous and the price tag makes you wince, but you have to try it on.

When you step out of the dressing room, Jack immediately stands and sweeps his hat off his head as he stares. “This- this is the one, sugar.” His body tells him that he really likes the way you look and he motions towards the mirror. “What do you think?”

"It's amazing." His reaction doesn't hurt either, and you turn to face the wall-sized mirror beside your dressing room. The cape falling around your shoulders is the closest to being a princess you'll ever come, and you glance at Jack over your shoulder as you watch your reflection. "It's so comfortable," you admit, laughing that that is so exciting to you when you're wearing such a gorgeous piece of art.

“So this is the one? Yeah?” Jack waits for you to nod and then turns to Stephanie. “Does there need to be any alterations?”

"A slight hem, depending on what shoes your friend will be wearing." Stephanie smiles, making sure to stay polite. "Oh...I guess I do need shoes, don't I?" Turning around in place, you look between them both. "I'm not too steady on high high heels, but...can a hem be done this week? The purchase is...sort of last minute." "I can have it done by mid week for you." Stephanie assures you, stepping forward to inspect the dress on your body and make sure she's correct that nothing more needs to be done. "We do have some heels here, if you would like to look. Gold will work well, or we can dye a fabric pair to match the gown if you prefer."

Jack chuckles. “Go check the shoes out, sugar.” As much as he doesn’t ‘shop’, he’s enjoying himself. Enjoying learning things about you. Maybe it’s crazy, he doesn’t know, but he looks at it like he’s taking care of you. Making you happy.

With a few very careful steps, you get down from the little platform that your dressing room was on and follow the saleswoman around the corner to a large display of heels in nearly two dozen shapes, styles, and heights. There are so many that it’s a bit overwhelming, but your eyes settle on a pair with intricate caging and open toes that will strap onto your feet and hopefully not move an inch all night. Something worth putting up with high heels for. “What about these?” You ask out loud, almost afraid to see this price tag on top of the dress.

Stephanie chuckles, actually chuckles and admires the boldness of your choice. “They are statement pieces, aren’t they?” She reaches for the shoes and pulls them off the display. “They are gorgeous and actually probably some of the more comfortable heels. Let me get your size and we will see how they look?”

“Thank you.” Your fingers subtly stroke the fabric of the dress as she retrieves your shoe size from the back and you walk back to where Jack is waiting.

Jack looks up, still in awe of the way the dress looks on you and gives you a smile. “Are they dying shoes or did you find some?”

“I saw a nice gold pair. Hopefully they have my size.” There’s only a moment of hesitation before you go back into the dressing room, retrieving your cell phone from your pants pocket to bring it out to him. “Would you…mind taking a picture? I…it’s silly. I just really want to show my sister.”

“One without the shoes and one with?” Jack guesses with an indulgent and slightly naughty grin. “I never have a problem taking a picture of a beautiful woman, sugar.”

Stephanie returns with the shoes while your face is still burning from Jack’s compliments. Absolutely no part of this is what you figured today would be like. You had pictures hunting through the dress department at Dillard’s quickly so as not to bore Jack, coming up with something passable but unremarkable. This is an altogether opposite experience to that - and definitely the closest to being a princess that you’ve ever felt.

Jack hums as Stephanie brings the shoes over and you sit down on one of those little poofy circle things women love. Standing, he moves over to you. “Let me help you put them on, sugar.” He murmurs silkily as he drops down to one knee in front of you and takes the shoes from the other woman.

It’s a damn Cinderella moment and all you can do is sit, frozen, trying not to react to the strength and gentleness of Jack’s large hands working the delicate straps on the heels. It’s not that you have a foot fetish, or anything even akin to it. It’s the warm way your skin tingles under his touch and the absolute intimacy of helping someone get dressed that have you holding your breath while Stephanie makes her unnoticed escape. You two clearly ought to be left alone.

He’s never thought of a foot as pretty. Never given them much thought beyond walking and laughing then Abigail had stuck her feet in his lap and demanded foot rubs for carrying his boy. He had acquiesced every time willingly. Now he keeps his fingers light as they move, sliding across your skin or holding your heel while he slips the heels on and buckles the straps.

It’s soft. Gentle. And you have no fucking clue why having him help you with your shoes has you in the verge of tears but here you are. Once they’re in place you shift slightly on the pouf, not sure that you want to break the spell of whatever the hell was just happening, but you need to see if the damn things are actually going to work for you. “Would you…?” You hold your hands out to him awkwardly, asking for help up.

“Of course, sugar.” Jack stands and dusts off his pants before he offers his hand to you with a wink and a slightly embellished flourish. “A Princess should not stand on her own.”

The way you huff is quiet - almost mournful but more like boarding indignant as he helps you to stand and just keeps you in front of him like this. Looking you over like it’s his privilege instead of a right. “If you treat the women you’ve just made friends with like this,” you observe, trying to shake off how special it makes you feel. “I don’t understand how somebody hasn’t snatched you up since being single.” You shrug, a little gesture but an honest one. “That’s just to say…your wife was a very lucky woman.”

“No sugar, I was the lucky one.” He promises, shoving down the wave of sadness and bitterness so he can concentrate on you. You deserve to feel beautiful at this moment. “Remember, manners maketh man.”

“Not in a dress shop, I hope.” A little smile crosses your lips, remembering he had said the same thing before taking those bikers to task a week ago. “And…it’s possible for you both to have been lucky. That’s—that’s what finding a soulmate is. At least…that’s what it seems like.”

It slips out, the dreaded words he hated for so long. “Maybe you will be lucky and have another soulmate.” He murmurs, knowing that according to the universe - you do.

You’ve heard those words before. From your father and brother, mostly, and you paint on the patient smile that you offered both of them when they said it. “Second soulmates are a fairy tale,” you remind him gently. “They don’t happen in real life. I’ll— I’ll just be glad if I ever find somebody willing to put up with my own specific brand of weird bullshit. That’s the dream now.” Companionship, not true love. That’s the best that you’ll dare to hope for.

He sees the brittleness in your smile because he has been far less kind with those words spoken to him. “I know.” He murmurs. “We just have to say it, right? It’s almost required.”

“Right.” You nod, stepping away from him before you say something incredibly stupid, and move back to the mirror to see the dress with these shoes on. It’s a spectacular combination and your smile softens, wondering what your soulmate would have thought of this kind of glamor.

Jack takes the picture you asked for and hands you back the phone. “Excuse me for a moment, sugar. Too much champagne, and I need to use the facilities.” He steps away, disappearing from the private dressing room.

******

“Mr. Daniels.” Stephanie’s head pops up from the front desk in surprise when she spots him, looking like he’s slinked away from where he was supposed to be. “Did you require assistance?”

“Sure can, darlin’.” Jack pulls out his wallet and lays down his credit card. “Everything she wants goes on this card. Tell her that it’s on the Statesman account and she’ll be billed at a heavy discount.” He requests, needing to buy that dress for you for some strange reason.

“You don’t want her to know it’s a gift?” She asks, head tilting slightly like she’s intrigued at the request.

“No.” Jack shakes his head adamantly. “This is a secret between you and me.” He makes it seem more charming with a wink and a flash of a flirty smile.

“Alright.” She’s damn well not going to question it. Not when she makes a commission. “Shall I encourage your friend to peruse our jewelry and clutches to complete the outfit, or would you prefer to keep the purchase small?”

“Whatever she wants.” Jack reiterates. Perhaps some of it is that underlying guilt that springs up around you, but this is mostly to make sure you look amazing at an event where your family will be.

“Very good.” Offering him a nod, she enters his credit card information into the purchase order under your name and hands it back with a smile. “If it’s not overstepping, the two of you do make a very sweet couple.”

“I wouldn’t be good for her.” Jack murmurs as he shoves his wallet back into his back pocket and sighs. “Now to actually use the bathroom.”

When Jack does return several minutes later, you are changed back into your own clothes and pour over a small display of gold earrings with Stephanie. “Hey!” Your smile is wide and true, eyes lighting up when you see him. “For a second there I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m harder to shake than a tic on a dog’s ass, sugar.” Jack jokes, just to make you giggle at his inappropriate comeback.

“Noted,” you snicker, even more amused because Stephanie looks so horrified. “I swear I’m almost done here, and then we can get dinner.”

“Take your time, sugar. The decorations make the cake more delicious.” Jack muses.

“He says to a baker.” This time you throw him a wink, deciding that playful things are just that much more fun today. It doesn’t matter that he’s just being kind, whereas you would willingly and easily drag him into that dressing room to find out exactly how much of that cocky attitude actually comes from his cock.

Grinning, he can’t help the way that his cock twitches in his jeans. You are a sexy woman and even more so when you are playful. He likes that in a woman. “So go on and pick out your doodads.” He motions towards the display case. “Gotta work up an appetite.”

Doodads. You shake your head, feeling the action be much more affectionate than you meant for it to be, and turn back to the case of jewelry in various colors, tones, and styles. The earrings you end up picking are simple but beautiful sparkling gold stud, and a nearby soft fabric clutch in gorgeous metallic gold. Stephanie tries directing you to other pieces like elaborate bracelets, but you just end up wrapping your hand around the simple gold cuff you wear every day on your wrist. It was a gift from your sister and you haven't skipped wearing it a day in the three years since she gave it to you. "I think this is plenty," you announce, when you really understand that she isn't going to stop pushing. It's fine - she probably works on commission and you're making her a lot of money today. But you're not replacing the bracelet your sister gave you for any reason. "Dress, shoes, earrings, and a purse. That's more than I expected to do today, anyway."

“Alright.” Stephanie wants to tell you to spend more money. She knows Jack Daniels can afford it, but you aren’t supposed to know. “I don’t think with the heels you need any hemming, so would you like to take the dress with you now?”

“Please.” The placid smile on your face belies how excited you actually are about the dress - it’s just your credit card bill you’re dreading. “I really appreciate all your help today. I would have been lost on my own.”

“I love helping people dress for special occasions.” Stephanie tells you brightly and scans all the items, wrapping them up and putting them in a boutique bag before pulling out a garment bag for the dress.

“My cousin’s wedding is sure to be memorable.” That’s just the sort of person she is - a very big personality that should never be silenced. You shift your purse off your arm at the counter, digging for your wallet to hand over your credit card.

“That’s great.” Stephanie zips up the dress and smiles at you as she pushes the bag forward. “Well, I hope you enjoy it and have a great rest of your day.”

"I--um..." Standing there with your credit card out, you tilt your head and furrow your brow at the shop employee. "I haven't paid yet," you remind her gently.

“Don’t worry about that.” She waves away your card with a smile. “It’s been put on Statesman’s account.” She explains breezily. “It will be billed to you, at a heavy discount.”

"Oh." Vaguely wondering how many local businesses Statesman simply has an account at, you put your card away and give the woman a slightly dazed nod as you accept the bags she has packed for you. "Well-I...thank you, again."

Jack winks at Stephanie and nods at her politely before taking your bags. “Are we ready, sugar?”

"We're ready." This whole we and sugar business is the kind of thing that makes you feel like a schoolgirl - like you're going to go home tonight and call your sister from bed while you kick your legs and gleefully recall every detail of every interaction. And fuck - who knows - maybe you will. He's been wonderful today. Completely relieving you of any worry you had last night. "Time for dinner?"

“Only if you are ready for the best collards and cornbread you’ve ever stuffed in your sweet lookin’ little mouth.” The urge to compliment you is just too much. Depending on what he says, he gets a sassy comeback or you turn charmingly shy. Both are perfect in Jack’s book.

The eyebrow you raise in his direction is matched by a smirk, and you can’t help yourself. He’s getting more outlandish in his comments and it’s either a Southern thing that you just don’t have up in New England, or he might actually be flirting. “Been thinking about my mouth today, have you?”

“It’s a nice mouth.” Jack opens the door to the shop and lets you proceed him. “The day a man doesn’t think about a mouth that is sassy and sweet, sour and sugary, well - it’s the day they put him in the ground.”

You practically gasp at the admission, taking the garment bag with your gown and carefully arranging it amongst all the other boxes and bags in the back of the Bronco when you get outside. “So you’ve actually been flirting with me and I’m the idiot who just caught on?”

Jack shuffles, looking for the world like a man who’s gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. He had been flirting and he hadn’t even realized it, the feeling so natural with you. Jack Daniels claims to be a born flirt, but ninety percent of it is an act. He hadn’t been acting with you. “Yes?” He asks, slightly worried that it might offend, given what you had said earlier.

He sounds worried, and you almost round the car to press a kiss to his cheek right there. But since the two of you had a short but legitimate conversation this morning about your dead soulmates, you decide not to push it and to just move with the flow of teasing. He seems to like it, and you have to admit to loving finding out that this man returns your attraction. “Good,” you hum, instead of doing anything sappy or too forward. “Keep it up.”

Jack’s grin is slow and he winks at you after he hops into the Bronco again, defying the need for the door. “Bossy lady.” He teases as he turns the key and the engine roars to life. “Easiest order ever, sugar.”

“I just know what I like, that’s all.” The victorious grin that overtakes your face settles there and stays as he pulls out onto the main road. You know what you like and you like him - right from the first second you saw him. It’s just that simple.

Jack drives you about five miles from the dress shop. The outside of the restaurant doesn’t look appealing, it’s the same facade of any strip mall in anywhere U.S.A. For Jack, that was part of the charm. Looks were deceiving. “Here we are, sugar.”

The outside looks like nothing at all, but through the glass windows you can see a line at the cafeteria counter that goes almost to the door. “Looks like we’re just in time for the dinner rush,” you shoot him a grin. “Perfect. Everything will be fresh.”

“Get two scoops of the collards or you’ll be waiting on a new pan.” Jack warns you, smirking as he opens the door and the scent of the buffet wafts out.

“Oh my god it smells like heaven.” The second you’re through the door you’re salivating, eagerly hopping into line with Jack at your side. “It smells like my grandmother’s house in here.”

“Your grandma cooked like this?” Jack asks, arching an eyebrow at you doubtfully.

“You think my coconut cake story was a lie?” You challenge him, grin twisting into the corner of your lips. “Grandma Jane was born and raised in Virginia. She only moved north after my older brother was born. According to her, being a long-distance granny simply was not an option.”

“Well then, let’s see if they cook as good as Grandma Jane from Virginia.” Jack teases, sending you a wink as the two of you get in line.

The building is absolutely packed to the gills, busy employees and happy customers all buzzing with their own energies. You and Jack slowly make your way up to the front of the line where regulars are being greeted by name, and you grin when one very maternal woman behind the counter lights up at the sight of him - this man seems to make an impression wherever he goes.

"Miss Mary, how are you doin' today?" Jack coos as he shuffles forward with you, a grin on his face and he sweeps his hat off his head and snatches her hand to kiss it playfully.

“Always missin’ you, Jack,” the woman laughs, swatting at him ineffectually and obviously enjoying this ritual playful flirtation. “You been in New York again? We ain’t seen you in a dog’s age.”

"No ma'am." Jack shakes his head mournfully. "Work pulled me farther away than New York, otherwise you know I would be flyin' down to sample your famous biscuits." He motions towards you and introduces you to the older woman. "Just had to show our newest Statesman member the best damn home cookin' around."

“Well, welcome, honey!” She shifts her attention to you with a beaming smile. “What is it you’re doin’ over there at the distillery, sweetheart?” “I’m a chef, actually.” You flash her a grin as if you’re both guilty of the same crime. “Brand new to the area, and I asked Jack to show me his favorite place. So here we are.”

"Oh well, I don't know if our cookin' 'ill be up to your standards, but let me know what you think." She looks impressed at the fact that you are a chef, as if running a wildly successful restaurant doesn't qualify her for the same thing. "Sweet Jack here was one of my first customers and sometimes he can be a little biased."

“I haven’t had real Southern cooking in about three years, so I’m excited to dig in.” You tell the woman honestly, making sure not to react to the inquisitive look on Jack’s face that you’re sure you’ll be answering for later. “I’m sure Jack’s bias is completely earned.”

Mary flusters, looking extremely pleased and flattered as she shoos you past. "Well you just enjoy and tell me all about it, you hear?" She demands, motioning you towards the drink station. "Get the sweet tea, honey. It's the real star of the show."

“I’m under orders, I guess. Not that anyone needs to encourage me to drink more sweet tea.” Turning to Jack as you move down the line together, you can see the question still in his eyes. “My grandmother died three years ago,” you explain. “There’s nowhere to get good Southern food in New Hampshire, and…cooking it myself hurt a little too much. Made me miss her too much. So I haven’t made anything except her coconut cake since the funeral.”

"I'm sorry, sugar." Jack knows about loss that just cripples you. He's lived with it for so long, he's functioning. At least as much as he could with his heart ripped out of his chest.

“Thank you.” It’s not ‘okay’, so you won’t say so even off-handedly, but you do slip the thin gold band from your wrist and show him the words written inside: Beautiful girl, you can do hard things. “My little sister had these made a few months later. It’s what she always used to tell us when we were worried or scared. So…she’s still with me. I know it’s not the same as losing your wife and son, but…I get what it feels like. Being so sad you can’t even open your eyes in the morning. I know that feeling.”

Jack stares at the phrase, his own eyes pricking with tears and he nods. "Loving someone is a curse sometimes, as much as it is a privilege."

“It is.” You nod and slip the band back on your wrist. “But that doesn’t mean we should stop. It just means the next person should be worth loving.”

Jack can't comment on that. Not when he's vowed to never love someone again. His own tea in hand, it's a silent perusal for a table, one set up in a small corner and he points to it. Unsure of if you will like it. He knows the silence is his fault, but how could he tell someone that he is wearing their tattoo that loving someone else wasn't in the cards for him.

It’s telling, the way chatty and openly flirtatious Jack clams up at your point of view, and you follow him to the table with a flash of melancholy in your understanding. He’s the kind of man who will simply never let go. No one will ever take his wife’s place and anyone that’s drawn his eye since is just a distraction. And for the life of you, you can’t understand why that makes your chest feel hollow and empty the way it does.

He hates that he's put a pall over the outing and once the teas are set down, he reaches for your hand. "Sorry, sugar." He murmurs softly. "It's just— it's hard to talk about. I don't mean to make you feel bad."

“Oh, I’m fine.” Lying through your teeth is what you are, but you smile for him anyway and squeeze his hand. “I think I went too long without eating, that’s all. It can affect my mood. Nothing to worry about.” Swallowing the lump squeezing your heart, you manage to find his eyes. “You can always talk to me. If you want to, I mean.”

"I appreciate that." He does, but he can't. Not without giving away the real issue. It's like your tattoo is burning and he rubs his arm absentmindedly. "Why don't we get you some grub and we can talk about less haunting things?"

“Sure.” You find yourself nodding around him quite a lot, content to be led by him through this new world you’re navigating. After all, you do like him. And Jack’s never given you a single reason not to trust him. “That sounds like a plan.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Kingsman Golden Circle #Soulmate au

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jjkfangirl · 5 months

Text

toji makes you squirt for the first time

Toji Fushiguro is your fuck buddy. You kind of hate him, because he's a deadbeat (and for some reason is cocky about it,) but he's a great fuck and hot as hell - so you enjoy fucking him for fun. Lots of late night booty calls and WYD texts. He generally fucks the shit out of you and then leaves - tonight is no different.

I just know of all the men in jjk toji would be the one that would just literally walk up to you, finger fuck the shit out of you effortlessly til you squirt, and then act like it was no big deal. and he'd be so fucking cocky about it too.

You were out for drinks with friends earlier in the evening when you stupidly decided to send Toji Fushiguro a “wyd” text around 9pm.

It wasn't that you regretted it.. it was just that if you were honest with yourself, he was kind of a piece of shit. Your relationship with Toji was a guilty pleasure... one that would never amount to anything more than casual sex.

You may have semi hated him and his cocky-ass demeanor, but god.. god damn he was fucking hot. And such a good fuck, too.

By 9:15 you were sneaking off to the girls bathroom to text him a little up-skirt shot and another one with your shirt pulled up, breasts partially out, and tits pressed together with a cute little winky kissy face. It didn't take much to entice him to come over anyway, but you felt like being a little extra flirty this evening.

Maybe it was the alcohol.

You hit send and within 60 seconds had a reply: “i'll be at ur place in 40 mins. u better not be wearing panties when I get there”

FUCK. The response had your pussy fucking throbing.

Ten minutes later, you were in the backseat of a cab on the way home. You were sitting with your legs crossed, rubbing your thighs together slightly and clenching your muscles trying desperately to get a little friction to your clit. You kept thinking about his broad shoulders and muscular arms.. the way he would pick you up with ease and throw you around. His large hands. How tall he was.. how big and thick his cock was.. all the ways he'd rag-doll fuck you. How he had this ability to somehow effortlessly get you off multiple times, every single time, all with this little fucking cocky half grin (which you loved and hated.)

For some reason, that fucker just knew exactly what to do to get you off. And he confidently did, every time.

You were lost in your fantasy of him when the cab driver said (for the second time,) “We're here, Miss.” Shaking your head slightly out of your wet-daydream, you thanked him and slid out of the car – secretly hoping you didn't leave a wet spot on the leather seats.

You were fully soaked through your panties at the thought of Toji.

You quickly got yourself in the house, went to the bathroom to freshen up, and laid down on the couch. Remembering his orders, you pulled your slick soaked panties off your legs and tossed them on the coffee table. You had a feeling he might like seeing those when he came in the door.

You shot him a quick text: “doors unlocked” and waited for him to arrive. Lazily fondling your nipples and grazing across your clit through your skirt. You wondered what he might have planned – if anything.

Right around 10, Toji showed up.

He knocked at the door and then promptly entered.

The tall man who crossed the threshold into your living room was wearing dark straight leg jeans, boots, and a light gray sweater. You could see his traps and collar bones just above the loose neck of the shirt. His broad shoulders, chest, and biceps nearly stretching the sweater to its limit. You could smell that he had just showered, and his hair still looked a little wet as it fell into his face.

Toji's eyes shot around the room - noting the panties on the coffee table with a smirk – and then finally settled on your body sprawled out on the couch. You had yourself propped up on a few pillows, one knee bent and leaning against the back cushions, the other was lazily spread open, foot hanging off the couch. You weren't sure, but you hoped he was getting a little glimpse of your pussy from under your dark navy blue pleated skirt.

And just as you expected, there was his cocky fucking grin, accented by a small scar around his mouth. You never asked how he got that.

“Missed me, huh?” he grinned and came to sit down at the couch. “You just can't get enough of me these days, can you?” He leaned in closer.

“Oh just.. Shut the fuck up Toji,” you said with a dramatic eye roll.

He sniggered and grabbed the panties off the table, “I see you listened to my directions. Good girl.”

You struggled to keep yourself from smiling at the praise, shaping your lips into something of a pursed smug half-smile.

“Go on. Lemme see.” he smirked, eyes darting down to your skirt's hemline and back up to your face.

You rolled your lips in, slightly biting on your lower lip as you released them. Your hand made its way down to your skirt hem and ever-so-slowly began pulling it up with one finger. You enjoyed teasing Toji as much as you could. Bratting a little bit, even, just trying to get some kind of reaction out of him.

Toji growled out a “mmmmmm” as his eyes feasted on your wet pussy. He quickly tossed the panties in his hand behind him, and they landed somewhere on the floor across the room. “Can I...?” he asked gently, tracing his hand lightly along the inside of your bent thigh. You nodded, “mmhm” once again biting your lips to keep yourself from smiling.

Toji traced his fingers lightly along your inner thighs, your ass, and your pelvis – avoiding everywhere you actually wanted him to touch you. That fucking bastard.

You loved it though. Your pussy clenched and you were sure he could see it from the way he was studying the view under your skirt as he teased you relentlessly. Your breathing got a little harder.

“Hm.. seems like you want something y/n.. wanna tell me what that is?”

He got another eye roll from you in response as you quickly grabbed your skirt and pushed it down between your legs, covering your heat.

Toji grabbed your hands with his so quickly you didn't even realize what was happening before he had them pinned over your head. “Tsk tsk tsk.. what's that all about? You little fucking brat. I know you want this.” That fucking cocky smirk was plastered all over his face once again. Your eyes rolled. His other hand reached down and flipped the front of your skirt up once again as he met your eyes.

You loved playing these stupid games with Toji... always trying to get him worked up enough that he'd start man handling you and throwing you around.

And it always fucking worked.

Toji took a finger and wet it in his mouth. He pressed gently down on the top of your clit, and then slowly slid it down your wet slit, pausing just outside the opening. “You may be acting like you don't want this, you little brat, but your pussy is telling me otherwise.” You licked your lips and bit the bottom one in response. You were sure you were incredibly slick - he could have shoved multiple fingers in your slick hole all at once – you had honestly been wet since that text he sent an hour ago when you were at the bar.

“Nothing to say, hm?” as he slid a finger into you, rotating it and curling it up to touch that heavenly spot inside of you.

You took a deep sigh and let out a breathy moan on the exhale.

“Oh.. fuuckk” you whimpered as he started to slowly pump his finger inside of you, curling the tip around to hit your g-spot. You felt butterflies forming in your stomach, almost getting light headed at the sensation.

“That's what I thought.” he said confidently, still pinning your wrists over your head and caging you into the couch – face about a foot from yours.

He watched intently as your breathing picked up the pace and you started to squirm under his touch. Trying to fuck yourself down onto his finger as much as you could even though he had you pinned from above.

Toji lifted himself up to have better leverage over you, while still pinning your wrists. He was now kneeling with one knee between your legs, the other foot on the floor off the couch. He slid a second finger in carefully, never looking away from your face. You could tell he enjoyed seeing what kind of response he could get out of you as he controlled your body so expertly. God he was good - but something about how confident he was really pissed you off.

You loved it as much as you hated it.

His two fingers milked you rhythmically as his dark blue eyes bored into yours. The eye contact was intense, and you were sure your pupils were blown out black with lust and your cheeks and chest were flushed with heat. Your moans got louder and louder the more rough he got with his hands.

Toji picked up the pace even faster, and your moans and cries got louder and more unhinged. His two curved fingers began pumping up and down inside of you, hitting the same spot over and over and over. He was unrelenting, even as you squirmed and squealed beneath him, trying to pull away.

“Toji.. Toji.. Toji.. ah.. fuck! Fuck! S'too much.. shit!” you cried out while writhing beneath him.

He just smiled and kept finger fucking the shit out of you. Never letting up, never changing what he was doing, and still pinning you down by the wrists. The control and stamina he had was absolutely insane.

You started to feel something a little unfamiliar growing inside your core. It felt like an orgasm, but you weren't sure. Were you about to squirt? It was so overstimulating, you had no idea how to even respond outside of squealing and screaming and crying out – words completely escaped you. This man had full fucking control over your body, and you were completely at his mercy.

Toji went even faster, faster than you thought was humanely possible. Just then, you cried out, and gushed and squirted around his fingers. “Fuuu-uuu—c-kkk... Tojiiiiiii fuck!” juices squirted out of you and drenched the sofa and the bottom of your skirt as you released. Toji quickly took his hand off of your wrists and began frantically rubbing your clit with the flats of his fingers. He started pumping his other hand in and out of you and another release quickly followed the first. You clenched and throbbed around his fingers, tremors rolling through your entire body, hips bucking and rutting into his hands. The whole thing was so overstimulating you weren't even sure what happened.

But... Toji did. That fucker.

“I knew I was going to get you to squirt tonight.” He said, sighing and plopping himself down on the couch after releasing his fingers from your soaking wet cunt. He was very much satisfied with himself and the reaction he drew from your body.

Your face was bewildered, “Wh—wha-- um... what?”

“What's wrong?” he laughed, “You've never squirted before?” he mocked.

You were literally speechless. You didn't even think that was something you could do. You weren't even sure it was real prior to this moment. You were also certain your face probably looked stupid as you tried to mentally and physically collect yourself and piece yourself back together. All while that mother fucker laid back, admiring the mess he made of you.

“Um.. no.. wow I..I.. I didn't even know I could do that.” You finally laughed.

“Well good thing you called me up, right? God, you made a fucking mess. You might want to clean that up or you might end up with a stain on this couch.” He slapped the seat cushion and you wanted to fucking punch him.

“You had this planned and you couldn't have put a towel down??” You still were laying back on the couch, dumbfounded, numb and tingling from your releases, only just barely getting the ability to piece sentences together.

Toji laughed, “Couldn't ruin the surprise now, could I?”

He got an eye roll in response.

#toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #toji x reader

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specters0rd · 4 months

Text

Operation: Cure MC's Sadness.

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

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Words: 1,503

Chapter: Prologue

A/N: I greatly apologize for possibly making the guys OOC, it’s a been a while since I wrote a fanfic (let alone a series) and not to mention my first ever fic for Ikevamp. Sooo… Scheduling for the other fics? I’m still figuring it out given that it took me a while to even finish this up, but I’ll make sure to post teasers here and there. I’m also still figuring out how to bring in Vlad and his minions in as well as connect Sebby & Will into this. If you got any suggestions for any the guys (except for Vincent and Theo, they’re the ones that made me want to do this and first one I came up with) don’t be afraid to suggest them in my ask box, reblog, and comments!

taglist: @natimiles @bicayaya @koco-coko

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

The poking from the beams had sobered up MC who wasn't sure if they actually slept or not, the eyes cloudy and slightly dry as they could barely make out the ceiling and orange sunlight stabbing them in one side. While a grunt escaped from their lips as their hands rubbed off the blurry dryness while they tried to recall last night, their body slumped over as they took a moment to admire the decor of the bedroom, especially with the painting they had the privilege to choose all thanks to a certain devil art-dealer. MC’s mouth couldn't stop themselves from curling up with fondness before falling as last night came rushing back to them. While they threw their blankets and legs over the side to get up, the urge to zone out and actually process everything finally took over, not surprising since a situation like this is quite... The story one can say. Once upon a month, MC was enjoying her time at the Louvre before being thrown into some kind of Alice in Wonderland plot with time, historical figures and vampires. What a YA fantasy-historical novel! Now this main character is… Stuck with no way back.

"Righttt... Homesickness. It's only been like... Two weeks since the damn door broke?" They whispered to themselves as they tried their best to read the clock; a skill that they still haven't mastered even a month in this mansion, tragic honestly. A hushed curse escaped from their mouth as they could guess roughly that they had 15 minutes or less to hop in and help Sebstain with breakfast. This only leads to more… Cursing from the struggling dork who’s playing detective right now over socks. Yes, over socks.

“You still haven’t broken that habit of yours, have you?” A chuckle from the butler as he broke the bloke’s case with a swift point of his finger to the clue; socks had been under the bed the whole time. This left the victim of messiness and forgetfulness to facepalm in shame once again.

“Oh god damn it. Thanks, Sebastian.” MC shook their head as they quickly snatched the socks and threw them on along with their high-quality shoes whilst Sebastian stood still at the door. A quick glance could tell the man before them was more concerned than the usual exasperation; they could feel the guilt sink in as the butler sighed.

“As much as I wanna don’t wanna push you to talk, MC, I think now is the time you open up. Especially because it’s clearly affecting your sleep and work.” The man spoke with seriousness and softness as he signaled to follow him towards the inevitable; a mansion meeting.

“Never thought I’d have an intervention…” MC joked as they followed aside the butler shaking his head at them, the fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“You wouldn't have one if you didn't try to pull the workaholic route for solving your problems...”

“Ah, Fair point.”

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

“And here I thought Theo was bad…”

“Oh shut it, Arthur. You're one to talk here.”

Theo shot a glare at his typical flippant frenemy as Arthur's attempt to soft the atmosphere slightly failed. MC's mind was fried at this point so even bickering didn't help nor rubbing their temples and guilt away.

“Was that really bad? God…” MC knew it was a rhetorical question especially with the sympathetic and annoyed looks at the table.

“I don't know what your definition of “bad” is, but typically, bumping into paintings, eye-bags, and breaking plates more than you usually do is quite bad, Hondje " Theodorus leaned back in his chair as his blues scolded the “family dog”.

“Not to mention forgetting food and leaving cups of coffee behind,” Mozart added as he took a bite of his breakfast, paying no mind to the soft glares from Napoleon, Issac, and Vincent.

Arthur shifted closer in his chair as his hands intertwined on the table; a sigh escaped from his lips.

“They are starting to get the point, lads. It's about time to start getting to the heart of the matter now.” Arthur gave a soft chuckle, the seriousness never leaving his eyes as he continued. “So, do you think you can explain why exactly that's causing this? Or is this workaholic habit the whole reason you haven't talked about it at all?” He arched his brow at them as he noticed MC immediately trying to puzzle it.

“I think the answer is quite obvious, but hey…” A voice hunches over Arthur, making the man jump and almost flings his coffee across the room.

“OH JESUS,MARY, AND JOSEPH. USE THE BLOODY DAMN DOOR DAZAI.” Arthur cursed at the tardy man before him who just closed the window behind the mystery writer, his glare never leaving him as Leonardo with the help of Jean drags Dazai and throws him into a chair.

A smile never leaves the eccentric, in fact, it only widens when looked at MC’s reaction. Not even the patriarch's glare seems to wipe it off him.

MC was trying to hold back their laughter at the scene before immediately stopping when eyes were all on them, a sense of anxiety in the pit of their stomach as they spoke.

“Well, yeah… It's pretty obvious for the perceptive folks here. I'm just gonna assume you want more details from me, right Arthur?” They looked at Arthur for confirmation, which earned a quick nod from him as he checked if his good old suit survived.

“Well…” They paused for a moment to gather their thoughts and ease the tightness of their throat. “I'm starting to think it finally dawned on me that I can’t go home yet… And the fact I never really fully processed everything. I kinda just threw myself into the chores. I mean it helps! Only to the point though… I think? Ugh…”

A comforting hand from Vincent laid on MC’s shoulder, noticing they were shaking at little. While MC smiled at him, they looked back to see everyone contemplating how to solve the issue now they got the reason for.

Comte took a moment to look at the clock before letting out a sigh.

“Well, one thing is certain, you need to take a break.” Comte paused for a moment before smiling. “Make that a week-long break.”

MC arched a brow at him before she felt a poke on the head by Napoleon, they looked up to see his smirk.

“Yes, MC, it's fine! You really need to work on that workaholic habit, I swear.”

A small croak, or well more like a tiny squeak, interrupted the moment. Issac was trying to say something and it ended up… An awkward way to make himself known.

“Ahem…” The physicist paused for a moment while trying to fight off his embarrassment. If MC wasn't giving Dazai and Arthur death glares, Issac would’ve been eaten alive… Well, for now.

“I was wondering what MC wants to do on their break… I mean, not sure if I can do much, but I'm free if you need someone to hangout with or… Vent too.” Issac lightly scratches the curve of his cheek with a sheepish smile.

“Not really sure either… But I'm all ears if you want to do something…” Jean chimed in with an earnest look in his eye despite how deadpanned his voice sounded.

Leo clicked his tongue as he thought of what he could do. “I mean, I’m sure if I have the time right now. Given Comte and I had an appointment with-”

“I mean, MC can accompany us with that invitation we got from my good old friend I haven’t seen in a while-.”

“Hold it guys. You're all getting ahead of yourselves there.” MC chuckles as they pop the last croissant in their mouth.

“I’m assuming that at least most of you are gonna… I don't know. Try and ease me by making me chill and hangout with you all?”

“Call this operation: Cure MC’s sadness” Dazai wiggled his eyebrows as his grin widened at the eye rolls he got from some of the folks at the table.

“Well, first of all it's not most of us…” Mozart huffed a little. “And second of all, it's nothing grand to try to help someone.” He side-eyed a pouty Dazai.

“Hmm… How about this? We all have a set week to make time for MC during their break.” Sebastian proposed to everyone as he picked up dishes to clean.

MC put a hand to their chin as they thought about it.

“I don't mind the idea, but how about each of you are duos!”

“What do you mean?” Vincent asked as he tilted his head to the side a little whilst everyone was either just as curious or slightly skeptical.

“Well, two of you each hangout with me on different days”. MC looked around to see everyone’s reactions before landing on Sebastian.

“Of course, I wish we could hangout too, but-”

“We’ll figure it out, don't you worry, MC.” Sebastian said before leaving towards the kitchen.

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

#duckies writing #ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikevamp

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prazinos · 1 year

Text

I Adore You.

Summary ~ You and Joel had been separated for 10 years and can't keep your hands off him when you see each other again.

WARNINGS ! ~ Female!Reader | Oral {F} | PiV | Touch starved reader and Joel | Reader ain't had sex in 10 years poor girl | makeout | Joel being sappy | Cowgirl position {Agent Whiskey Reference?} | Joel dirty talking

Joel miller was something else. You couldn't get enough of his scruffy beard, dark eyes and brooding face.

You were nothing but his neighbour.

Well, not anymore. After a glass of wine or two you were confessing how you had always found him attractive, and the fantasies that had conjured in your mind.

That's how you found yourself tangled with him in the sheets. And that wouldn't be the first.

You started 'officially' dating about a week after that.

And then four years of pure bliss. His daughter loved you, and you loved her. Everything felt so right.

But then the outbreak hit. Joel was out, had to pick Tommy up. So you stayed back to make sure that Sarah wasn't home alone.

And everything went to hell.

Sarah was shot, you and Joel got split up. You didn't know what the fuck you were gonna do.

Fast forward around ten years and you live in a bit of a society. Nothing glamorous for sure, but it was home.

You had a little flower shop, nothing fancy, more of a shack with a painted sign.

People thought you were crazy for it. But you saw it as an opportunity for other people. You wanted people to still be able to find love. Something that was cruelly taken from you.

And people loved it, you had multiple people a day coming in to buy flowers from you to give to another person in the society; it always warmed your heart.

You hadn't fucked anyone since Joel. You were still hopelessly in love with him. But there had been plenty of nights with your hand down your pants imagining your fingers were his.

'Y/N! Y/N! Guess what!' Gloria said skipping over to your little shop (shack).

'What's up?' you asked giving a bouquet of tulips to a customer.

'Newcomers! We haven't had some in months! And, and, I heard they're moving next door to you! They said they weren't staying long but oh my god!' Gloria said practically bouncing off the walls.

You smiled at her, she was always so full of energy.

'What're their names?'

'I don't know, I only saw them. Good God the guy was hot though. Older than us by a good few years but Jesus I would've jumped his bones if I had the chance' Gloria said leaning against the shack.

You just laughed, cutting the end of stems off some roses.

'I'll make sure to visit them this afternoon and try and set you up' you giggled.

Then, Gloria was off. Practically skipping with excitement.

You finally got home for the day, holding a pot with a sunflower in it.

You walked up to the door next to yours, the unoccupied one that is, and knocked on the door.

It swung open a few seconds later, a girl standing before you, young, maybe 14-15?

'Uh hi' she said skeptically.

'Hi, I'm your new neighbour I guess, I bought a little house warming present' you said extending the flowerpot towards her.

Thankfully she smiled and invited you in for coffee.

'How long you been here?' The girl, Ellie, asked.

'Maybe five years? I can barely remember' you replied, coffee mug in hand and standing near the fridge. 'You here with your dad?' you continue.

'Something like that, family but not family' Ellie shrugged, washing her now empty coffee. 'He's not here right now, should be back soon though'

You both heard the door open, 'speak of the devil' she said, placing the cup down on the busted drying rack.

You didn't peak around the corner of the wall, blocking your view to the front door. Not wanting to seem desperate to meet the guy.

You heard heavy footsteps on the old wood floors, and then you saw the figure come around the corner.

You dropped your mug, it shattering to the ground. Joel.

Joel's eyes widened as soon as he saw you 'sweetheart' he said breathlessly.

you were frozen. Tears streaming down your face.

'Do you guys know each other?' Ellie asked, breaking the silence.

Joel nodded slightly, still just as shocked as you were.

'I'm gonna go look around, give you guys some space' Ellie said walking out the kitchen and out the door.

As soon as you heard it shut, Joel strode forward and enveloped you in a bear crushing hug. You cried silently into his shoulder.

'I know baby, it's okay' he whispered into your hair.

You looked up at him, stroking the scruffy beard you loved so much.

He smiled down at you, tears flooding his eyes. He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.

Immediately you moaned into his mouth, missing how whenever his lips were on yours, all your senses were full of him.

Joel started moving you, directing you towards to bedroom.

He pushed you gently down onto the (crappy) mattress. And started kissing down your jawline and neck.

You grabbed at his shirt and lifted it off him; allowing him to do the same to you.

'Fuck I missed you' he moaned, leaning down to mouth at your bra clad breasts.

God you missed his voice when he gets like this, it soaks your panties and causes you to arch your back slightly.

Joel moves down and unbuttons your jeans, stripping them off your legs.

'Fuck, you've soaked through your panties darlin''.

you mewled at his words, bucking your hips up to his face; he pulled your panties off and you watched as he licked his lips, staring at your glistening cunt.

He leans forward and licks a broad stripe up your slit; moaning at the taste as you groan and buck your hips.

'Fuck me, nearly forgot how good you tasted baby doll'

your hips bucked up into Joel's face, his strong forearm coming to pin your hips down.

He continued to devour you, licking and sucking on your cunt.

Jesus Christ you missed this; his tongue feels like a gift from God.

Your hands reached down and into Joel's messy hair. tugging on it softly.

'You can pull harder than that baby, I know you can' Joel smiled at you before diving back into your cunt.

You then felt two thick fingers plunge into your hole. Your back arches off the bed and you pull Joel's face further into you.

'Joel-fuck! I'm gonna-ohmygod-I'm gonna cum!' you moan.

Joel doubles his efforts his fingers curling upwards into the spot that makes you see stars, triggering your orgasm almost immediately.

'Joel! Joel fuck!' you mewled as his fingers guided you through your orgasm.

You felt the mattress dip and Joel was kissing you again, you felt the bulge in his pants bump your clit and you gasped against his mouth.

You mustered all the strength you could and rolled the two of you over; you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room. You unbuckled Joel's belt and he lifted his hips so you could pull them off.

You practically ripped off Joel's boxers and spat in your hand; you grasped his cock and stroked it a few times before hovering over it.

You aligned your cunt with his cock and sunk down slowly. Moaning out at the pleasurable sting the stretch gave you.

Joel groaned underneath you, almost a growl. His hands digging into your hips; surely leaving crescent shaped marks in their wake.

'You're so tight holy shit' Joel said, resisting the urge to buck his hips into you.

'Haven't-fuck, haven't slept with anyone since you' you moaned, starting to move on his cock.

'Oh fuck, I fucking adore you' he moaned.

You lifted your hips, slamming them back down; Joel almost whimpering.

You started bouncing hard on his cock and he rutted his hips up into you as you sank down each time.

Your head was thrown back and your cunt was getting wetter with each moan Joel let out.

You loved how desperate he sounded underneath you. Clearly missing this as much as you. Maybe even more.

You reached down to rub at your clit, before Joel slapped your hand away; and just as you were going to whine he started rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You moaned and your cunt squeezed around Joel's cock and he thrusted upwards into you.

'I'm so close baby' Joel moaned; you nodded, nearly coming just from his voice.

Your cunt fluttered around Joel's dick as your orgasm came over you.

'That's it honey, fucking milk my cock' Joel said as your rode him through your orgasm.

He thrusted up into you a few more times before you felt his come spill inside of you and drip down your thighs.

You caught your breath momentarily before climbing off him, wincing at the slight overstimulation.

You went to lay next to him and he pulled the covers over the two of you.

Your head was rested on his chest, and you listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart; before he spoke, 'I meant what I said'

'hm?'

'I adore you'

HI BOZOS!!! This ones a bit short again but goodness gracious the chokehold that Pedro Pascal has over me. Anyway hoped you like ittt

#joel miller #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel x fem!reader #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #Joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #daddy #daddy pedro

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

Love Comes Quietly Ch 15

Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, usual CM type case work, a little bit of hurt/comfort, but it's very minor. Chapter (and next one) take place during the episode "Bully"

You were out of the car the second you had the gear shifted into park, your heart hammering in your chest. The team was out in LA, you’d been with Emily and Morgan at one of the addresses for the unsub while Rossi and Alex had taken the other, the call for a medic had came over the radio, Alex had taken a hit. You jogged passed the SUV and the handful of cop cars until you reached the ambulance.

“Alex!?” You skidded around the corner and relief waved over you when you finally laid your eyes on her. A paramedic was wrapping a bandage around her arm while she sat on the back ledge of the bus, glancing up when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

“What’re you doing here?” She asked, her brow furrowing as she looked up at you.

“They said you got shot.” Your heart was still hammering in your chest, emotions flooding through you, unable to stop the slight shimmer of tears in your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m fine.” She stood from the ambulance, thanking the EMT as she approached you, “it just grazed, it’ll be healed before you know it.”

“Wish they could’ve mentioned that.” You grumbled, and she chuckled softly, squeezing at your shoulder.

“Hey… it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I know, I know.” You let out a breath, “I’m sorry, I just… freaked. I was so worried I was going to spend the rest of the day in a hospital on edge waiting for a doctor to tell me the person I love was severely hurt or worse.”

Alex’s lips twitched up into a smirk as she watched you gaze off in the distance, the worry etched across your face finally beginning to fade as you let out a soft sigh, “sorry… what was that?” She asked, grin breaking out on her face, “the person you what?” You let out a gasp, eyes widening as your gaze shot back to her and heat began to creep across your cheeks.

“You heard me!”

“No, nope.” She shook her head, “sorry, I didn’t. Bullets are pretty loud, my ears are still ringing, I’m gonna need you to repeat yourself.”

“Oh stop it.” You half laughed, shoving at her uninjured side and she caught your hand in hers, pulling you closer so her other arm could wind around your waist, “I love you.” You murmured, glancing up at her, soft smile on your cheeks.

“I love you too.” She replied, bright smile on her face as she ducked down to kiss you gently. Your arms easily slid around her waist, a small giggle escaping your lips as you chased her for another kiss, blissfully lost in each other for a moment of peace in the midst of chaos.

“Now what’s going on here?” Rossi’s voice broke through your fantasy, a sly grin on his face as he rounded the back of the ambulance, causing you and Alex to tear apart from each other with an awkward laugh.

“Nothing you need to tell the rest of the team about.” Alex chuckled.

“Why would I do such a thing?” He asked with a laugh, “now I understand why Murphy went so far out of her way to come out here.” He turned to Alex, “you good?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “stings a little, but I’m practically bullet proof. We ready to go?”

“I’ll tell Prentiss we’ll meet them at the jet.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket and wandered off back toward the SUV.

“You sure you’re good?” You asked, squeezing at Alex’s hand and she nodded once again.

“Promise.” She kissed the side of your head, “and I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

“Good.” You pecked her quickly, leaving your hand linked with hers ready to head to the car when her phone rang and she let out a sigh, pulling it from her pocket to answer.

A brief conversation later and instead of planning to return to DC, the team was to head to Kansas City. Alex’s dad had a probable case for the BAU, one that needed attention as fast as possible. The jet was rerouted and you spent the flight going over the case and trying to piece together the information and clues that you already had. The team split up when you landed, you, Emily and Alex were going to head to the local precinct while the other four checked out the crime scene.

The three of you were approaching the supplied SUV from the front, chatting back and fourth half distracted by both each other and the case at hand. First Emily veered off to the right, managing to crash into Alex, letting out a noise as she circled around her, nudging her toward the car before bumping into you and letting out a small shriek before finally finding herself at the back passenger door.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked with a laugh.

“I’m used to driving!” She shot back, “then I realized Blake knows this place better and won’t need directions so I changed directions. Then I panicked cause it felt weird splitting up the two of you.” She explained and you laughed, pulling open the passenger seat door as Alex spoke.

“You feel weird? How do you think I feel putting the unit chief in the back seat?”

“I mean, I guess I could drive and the two of you could sit in the back?” Emily awkward offered with a laugh and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Emily just get in the fucking car.” Alex laughed.

“Yes ma’am.” She half stuttered out, pulling more laughs from the two of you as she finally climbed into the back seat.

“I’m pretty sure we’re the one’s who are supposed to be ‘yes ma’am-ing’.” You eyed Emily through the rearview mirror and she rolled her eyes at you, kicking at the back of your seat.

“Shut up and drive.”

“I’m not in the driver’s seat!” You shot back with a laugh.

“Sorry,” Alex murmured as she shifted the car into drive, “I’m just getting my bearings, it’s been a while.”

“When was the last time you were here?” You asked, glancing over at her and she let out a soft sigh.

“About five years ago? Maybe longer. I kinda got out and never really wanted to come back.”

“I get that.” Emily commented.

“I could never.” You huffed, “I’ve been gone like what, just over a year and my parents area already hounding me about visiting.”

“My dad made the trip to DC a few years ago, and I honestly didn’t mind that, it’s just… being here.”

“It brings back memories.” Emily murmured, “and I’m guessing not always good ones.”

“Yeah.” Alex let out a breath, “we all just threw ourselves into our work to keep distracted, I mean, look at my dad, retired and still taking the time to call the FBI in on a case of Scott’s.” She chuckled, “man could never rest a day in his life. I’m kind of surprised he’s not constantly badgering me about work stories.”

“Do you talk to them often?” Emily asked.

“No.” She shook her head, “the more time that goes by the less we seem to have in common. Aside from work I guess, but who wants to talk about work constantly? It’s the usual happy birthday, merry Christmas, happy anniversary texts or voicemails at this point.”

Something about what Alex said made your body tense, shifting slightly in your seat. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by either of your current company.

“What?” Emily asked, her foot prodding into the back of your seat again and you reached around to swat at her leg.

“Uh… do they… know?”

Alex glanced toward you briefly, taking in your expression and she chuckled, “yes. Remember back in Texas? I’ve brought a girl home before; they know I’m not straight.”

“Okay, follow up question.” Emily jumped in from the back seat, “since you say you don’t really talk to them… do they know you got divorced?”

“Of course.” Alex laughed, nearly scoffing at her question, “dad, as he does every year, invited us down for Christmas and I told him if I did come it would just be me. He got overprotective as a dad would and I assured him it was fine and explained everything.” Her eyes suddenly widened, realization washing over her as she stopped at a red light, “oh god…. I don’t think I ever actually told Scott. I just assumed dad would tell him.”

“Oh good.” You let out a laugh, “so I might be walking into a situation where I’m the dirty mistress?!”

“No.” Alex laughed, swatting at your thigh, “I’m sure dad told him. Even if he hasn’t, they don’t know about us. When he called earlier we did get to chatting and I mentioned I’ve been seeing someone but I didn’t say it was someone on the team.” This time her hand gently squeezed at your thigh, “I didn’t want them hounding either of us while we were trying to do our jobs or bombarding you in front of the rest of the team.”

“God, when am I allowed to start hassling you in front of everyone?” Emily groaned and you both laughed.

“In due time.” Alex replied.

“You’re one step closer.” You commented, “Rossi knows.”

“Yeah that’s what happens when you freak out and show up halfway across town instead of waiting at the jet.” Emily kicked at the back of your seat again.

“I’m sorry, my girlfriend got shot, what was I supposed to do?”

“And I am fine.” Alex insisted, though she winced as she went to make a right turn and you scowled in her direction.

Setting up at the precinct was as easy of a job as it always was, sorting through casefiles while briefed on the case from the Kansas pd’s point of view. You’d been trying to piece things together with Emily while waiting for a witness from what Damon thought was a connected murder to come in to be interviewed, Alex trapped in her brother’s office along with her dad. She was honestly more than thankful when she spotted movement in the doorway as you knocked on the doorframe.

“I..uh..” you stumbled a bit over your words, Alex was perched on the desk and it took everything in your power to drag your eyes away from the way she was sitting. It only took a moment before her head was tilting, her eyes practically burning into your skin.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing.” You replied, “Mr. Barnes is here.”

“Alright.” Scott let out a huff, “let’s get this over with.” He rounded his desk, both him and Damon slipping past you out of the room. Alex paused a moment, her eyes dragging over you before her lips flicked up into a grin.

“What?” She repeated, crossing the room to you and you quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was in ear shot.

“It’s just… weird seeing you in jeans.” You fibbed, “you’re usually in dress pants.”

“Then why not just say that?” She asked with a laugh and it was your turn to blush.

“Maybe because they make your thighs look incredible and I didn’t exactly what to share my very inappropriate thoughts in front of your family?”

She laughed at that, her hand moving to squeeze yours softly as she grinned at you, “I guess that is something better not shared with the class. I’m sure you can tell me all about it tonight at the hotel.”

“Oh I most definitely can.” You murmured, watching as she walked away to greet the witness.

Two more bodies popped up the next morning and it didn’t take long to connect them to the other cases through Jefferson High School, you had your profile and it was time to narrow down your list of potential unsubs, victims or witnesses. Garcia helped with that, splitting the list in two so it could be shared between the team and the local PD, Scott taking the lead on his side of the investigation.

What none of you expected to happen was Scott to split up from his partner to cover more ground, the vulnerability leaving him attacked by the unsub while he was questioning a victim. The team was still split up around the city, you were back at the precinct with JJ, interviewing a Jefferson classmate and working on stringing evidence together while the others were off at the most recent crime scene.

It was safe to say that by the time you got back to the hotel that evening you were exhausted, quickly showering and changing into pyjamas. Emily had driven you back, noticing your frown when Alex hadn’t come back from the crime scene, mentioning that she’d gone to the hospital for a little bit of family time. Not wanting to intrude, you simply plugged your phone in and figured you’d talk to her when she got back, which wasn’t long after you were out of the shower.

The lock beeped, a click before the door swung open and Alex entered the room, plastic bag in her hand, she flashed you a tired smile, her chest blooming with warmth at the sight of you.

“Hey.” She greeted.

“Hey..” you flipped the magazine closed, shifting slightly on the bed so you were closer to her, “how is he?”

“Concussion.” She sighed softly, shifting out of her shoes and jacket, “but he’s conscious. They’re just keeping him overnight to monitor him.”

“That’s good news then.”

“Yeah.” She stepped closer, leaning down to kiss you softly before placing the bag down on the bed, “I brought dinner. Figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

“I had a granola bar.” You defended and she scoffed, settling on the bed beside you.

“That doesn’t count and you know it.”

“Fine.” You feigned annoyance, “what’d you get?”

“Mexican seems to be one of our favourites so I figured I’d play it safe.”

“Sounds great.” You smiled across at her, shifting so you were settled by the headboard. You frowned as you looked across at her, not only did she look tired, she looked nearly dejected, even as she settled beside you beginning to unpack the food. “Hey…” you spoke softly, your hand grabbing hers, “you okay? I mean… it’s been a lot…”

“Yeah.” She glanced up at you, a warm smile on her face, “I am.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” This time there was no mistaking the smile on her cheeks, “because right now, I’m with you. And it doesn’t matter where in the world I am, or how shitty my day is if I get to come home to you, as long as you’re by my side… nothing else matters.”

“Alex…”

“I’m serious.” She leant in, kissing you once more, her hand lingering on your cheek, “I love you. And you make my life incredibly brighter and I wouldn’t have it any either way. Just having you around has made this trip home better than I ever could have expected.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a softie Doctor Blake?” You asked with a grin and she nearly rolled her eyes, a laugh puffing out of her, “I love you too."

__________________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 4 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin sin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik @riveramorylunar @h-doodles @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @s1ut4nat @inlovewithmiddleagewomen men @tommyriddleobsessed @ollysmulti @iluvsreid

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #criminal minds #love comes quietly #alex blake: criminal minds #alex blake series

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 1 month

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Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (29)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 / Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27 / Part 28 /

Created: March 14th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

Their Highland Games-Chele20035 (ao3) Summary: After a long work week, Katniss curls up with a new book and cheese buns. This was submitted to prompts in panem for day three, Queen Anne's Lace/fantasy. The Jabberjay And The Mockingjay-AntiKryptonite (ao3) Summary: They’re only scared, broken children when they’re alone, Katniss thinks. Damaged and weak and unsteady. Together, though...together, they are unstoppable. When Peeta returns to District 12, Katniss resolves to help him in the only way she knows how: by answering his real-not-real questions. Together, they play a game piecing their pasts together, but this time, maybe there can actually be two victors without any bloodshed. This time, maybe they can find their way to each other once and for all. (A Growing Back Together story because you can apparently never have too many) The Lady of the Woods-chele20035 (ao3) Summary: There are shades of black and white all around us. It's up to us to chose what we will and will not trust. What happens when Katniss and Peeta get lost in the woods? The Long Way Home-DustWriter (ff.net) Summary: An expanded option to the Mockingjay epilogue that takes Katniss across Panem to get Peeta back home. The Pawn-annieoakley1 (ao3) Summary: Katniss has his pearl to comfort her, but all Peeta has are his precious memories of her, and the Capitol is trying to take them away. Warnings for violence and torture. Italics are reworded excerpts from "Mockingjay". Written for Prompts in Panem's Round 3, Day 1 challenge. Visual Prompt: Peeta's Pearl. The Picture-Burkygirl (ao3) Summary: He shouldn’t have said it. Wouldn’t have said if he’d been sober. Known he was in trouble the minute the words slipped out of his mouth. -- Peeta's drunken mistake has torn Everlark apart. Inspired by Should've Gone to Bed by the Plain White T's. Written for Prompts in Panem -- Round 8: The Farewell Tour. Epilogue written for Prompts in Panem - the Final Tribute. The Pigeon Drop-Ashyblondwaves (ao3) Summary: What would you do if you came across an envelope full of money? Katniss Everdeen was about to find out. AU one shot. The playlist-deinde_prandium (ao3) Summary: In which Finnick harnesses the power of music to get back at an inconsiderate roommate...and play wingman for another in the process. Background Odesta and (eventual) Everlark. The Prince of Panem-Amelia_day (ao3) Summary: There should be a hard rule: the guy who steals your coffee order is not allowed to be attractive. Or attend the same university as you. Or be royal. The Raven and The Gods-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: Prompt 46 from Everlark Fic Exchange: Peeta, the Greek god Apollo, hears the most beautiful voice at his temple so he comes down to earth to find this beautiful maiden. Follows how this god falls in love with a mortal and withstand the trials the other gods put them through.

#t #teen and up masterlist #masterlist #everlark #everlark fanfiction #thg #thg fanfiction #thglibrary masterlist

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ap41cu5 · 10 days

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The Rookie Detective: Joseph Oda x Fem! Reader (Chapter 3)

short synposis: a bit of a long, fluffy chapter where the reader was so caught up in her thoughts of joseph that she couldn't get a single ounce of sleep that night. when she comes into work, shes so exhausted that joseph offers to drive her back home to make sure she gets there safe and sound. meanwhile, joseph is also worried about sebastian who has been quickly descending into alcoholism. a/n: sorry if this chapter feels a bit rushed! i didn't want to make it too long but it ended up being super long anyway </3 word count: 4124

Your first day at work was amazing for the most part. While you felt horribly for your coworker, Sebastian Castellanos, you just couldn’t pry your mind away from Joseph. There was just something about him that drew you to him. He was just so gentle and sweet, not to mention incredibly easy on the eyes. The only downside to your little, well, huge crush on him, was that you were unable to get any sleep that night with your head filled with him and only him. Overflowing with so many silly fantasies about going on dates with him or somehow getting the chance to cuddle with him, what his lips would feel like when you kissed, or how his arms would feel wrapped around you in a warm embrace.

You quite literally couldn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

You were so giddy once you got home and you had no outlet for all that pent up energy that you ended up staying up all night, twisting and turning, praying to God that you would finally be able to fall asleep. But to no avail.

No matter how long you closed your eyes for, you were still wide awake. This went on until eventually you saw sunlight shining in through your blinds. Great. Just great.

You checked your alarm clock and there was 15 minutes until you were supposed to wake up.

Well, screw it! You thought to yourself, and just threw the covers off of yourself and got up to start getting ready.

The KCPD had a surprisingly lenient dress code, as you could see by what Kidman had been wearing. Since you had extra time, you decided to wear something more your style. You pretty much wore the same top as yesterday, which consisted of a white button up shirt with a black vest (like Joseph or Sebastian’s) that you paired with a black tie with beige pleated pants. You decided to accessorize a bit and put on a pair of floral earrings and a matching necklace. You threw on some light makeup and put your hair up in a claw clip, letting two strands in the front hang down (and if you have bangs, you fixed your bangs as well).

Looking in the mirror, you realized that no amount of makeup could cover up the insane eyebags you developed the night before. Wow. I look like shit, you thought to yourself.

You checked your kitchen cabinets to see if you had any coffee left, but thanks to your amazing luck, you just remembered that you ran out the night before.

You sighed and finally left your apartment.

Once you made it to the office, you practically threw your stuff down and sat down at your desk. You just wanted to get today over with and hastily finish up the police report you had to write for yesterday’s shoplifting incident.

Your head was resting in your fist as you clicked away at your computer, looking for the necessary document template to begin filing the report.

“You look like shit,” you hear from beside you.

“Gee, thanks. I hadn’t noticed,” you sarcastically remarked, looking to see where the voice came from.

It was Kidman, of course. You weren’t sure if this was just how she acted, or if she had some sort of weird issue with you.

“There’s coffee in the lounge area. Just figured I’d let you know in case you wanted to grab a cup. You look like you need it,” she added, her voice sounding a bit softer than before.

“Ah, thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll probably go grab one once I’ve finished filing the first page of this report,” you shot her a small smile, feeling a bit fuzzy that she was actually being nice to you for once. Perhaps you were wrong about her, you thought.

As you briskly typed away at your computer, trying to get the first page done as quick as possible, you heard the door open as Joseph sat down at his desk in front of you. Your eyes practically lit up at the sight of him.

“Good morning, Joseph!” You said, almost a bit too excited.

“Good morning, (First Name). Are.. you alright? You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night,” Joseph replied as he looked up at you above your computer screen, that same concerned tone in his voice again.

“I didn’t!” You replied, part of you trying to play it off as a joke so he wouldn’t worry himself too much.

Joseph gave a concerned look and got up to leave the room. You were a bit upset he left, but tried to focus your attention on the document. While you still had intense feelings for him, you couldn’t let it hinder your work this badly. Struggling to keep your eyes open as you typed away at your keyboard, you heard Joseph approach you again.

“You look like you need this,” you hear Joseph say.

You turned to look at him, to which he held two cups of coffee. You were immediately touched by the gesture, your cheeks heating up as he carefully handed you one of the mugs.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he warned as you took the mug from him, mindful not to burn yourself.

“Thanks..” you replied, suddenly becoming shy.

Jesus, has it been that long since someone’s actually done something nice for me? You thought to yourself, wondering why you elicited such a reaction.

“Anytime, (First Name). Why don’t I help you file that report?” He suggested, placing his mug down at his desk before standing over your shoulder again.

“How much of it have you completed so far?” He asked, taking your mouse and scrolling on your computer.

This was like yesterday all over again, except this time the close proximity made you shiver. You were having a much more visceral reaction than before, the scent of his cologne sending you into a haze. Was it the lack of sleep? Why were you reacting so much more intensely this time than the last?

You felt him place one of his hands on your shoulder to steady himself, the contact making you jump a little.

“Sorry, just need to skim over everything you’ve written,” he mumbled, “alright, crime committed, shoplifting, number of suspects, three, right..” he continued to whisper under his breath.

The combination of the close proximity, his hand on your shoulder, his scent, and the sound of his voice all turned you into a blushing mess as you tried your best to sit still. Your heart rate was through the roof, your hands were becoming clammy, and you subconsciously pressed your thighs together as your eyes drifted to his hands.

You weren’t sure what it was, but something about his forearms being exposed and those leather gloves just did something to you. You were down absolutely horrendously and it was so incredibly embarrassing.

After what felt like ages, he stood back up again and began to make his way back to his desk in front of you.

“Alright, thank you. I should be able to do the rest from here. Just go ahead and email the document to me and I can do the rest. You already got a good portion of it done from what I can see,” Joseph sat down, taking a sip of his coffee.

He hadn’t seemed to notice your beet red expression as you only nodded in response, your voice still caught in your throat as you copied the link to the document.

“W-what’s your uh, what’s your email address?” You asked, mentally cursing yourself for stuttering.

“Here, I’ll type it in for you.” You couldn’t even look at him as he made his way back to your seat. As he typed in his email, you noticed his profile picture for his email was a Japanese Kanji character.

“You’re Japanese?” You inquired, immediately growing curious.

“I am. But I only speak a little bit of Japanese. How’d you figure?” He asked, steadying himself by placing his hand on your shoulder again.

“W-well, ahem, I noticed that your profile picture for your email was some sort of Kanji character. I took a bit of Japanese back in high school,” you replied, the blood rushing back up to your face.

“Really? The Kanji in my profile picture is the Oda seal for my last name. How much Japanese do you still remember?” He asked, taking a seat in the desk beside you.

“Oof, barely any. I never learned many kanji characters so all I really remember is how to read Hiragana and Katakana.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t know much more than that and I’m Japanese,” he chuckled.

You both laughed a bit, and shared just a fraction of a moment where you two just sat and looked at each other.

“I should really finish filing that police report!” He remembered, quickly making his way back to his desk.

You could just barely make out the blush that dusted his cheeks as he quickly turned his back and made his way back to his desk.

You rested your head on your arms as you put your head down for what felt to be just a few minutes. A quick power nap couldn’t hurt, right? Sleep quickly enveloped you as you hoped to God you wouldn’t snore.

As soon as you awoke, you ultimately felt even worse than you did before you took the nap. You felt even groggier than you did this morning, making it even harder to focus on your work. As you looked back up at your computer screen, you were pleasantly welcomed by the sight of Joseph’s focused expression just beside his monitor.

You couldn’t help but take a few glances at him now and then while he worked. He just had such a handsome face. You couldn’t help but notice how his brows would furrow when he was deeply focused, how he would rest his chin between his thumb and forefinger whenever he was skimming back over something he wrote…

“(First Name)?”

He was just so..

“(First Name)?”

attractive. In ways you yourself could hardly even describe.But you couldn’t let your feelings get the best of you. Especially if he didn’t feel the same way. Can you imagine how awkward that would be working alongside him the day after being rejected? “(First Name)!!”

At the third calling of your name, you were finally snapped back into reality. Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Joseph.

“..yes? Sorry, I must’ve spaced out. Was there something you needed?” You asked, your head feeling like it was about to float off your body with how sleepy you were.

“You’ve been staring at me for the past 5 minutes. Is there something on my face?”

You swear your heart stopped for a moment.

“I.. I was?” Your voice quivered with sheer embarrassment.

You could feel your heart rate begin to speed up again and your face become beet red.

“Uh.. yeah,” Joseph replied, his face turning a light shade of pink as well.

“You even fell asleep for.. well.. a few hours. But I didn’t want to wake you, you looked like you needed the sleep.”

“Oh, oh crap! Sorry, I– uh, sorry if I was distracting you. And I’m sorry for falling asleep as well! Shit, I slept for that long? I didn’t get much work done today at all. Is there anything else you need me to do? Any case files, anything?” You rubbed your eyes, still feeling groggy after just waking up.

“It’s alright, really! I was just a bit worried. You may want to take an early out if you’re not feeling too well. I was able to get almost everything we needed done. It’s alright, trust me,” Joseph reassured you.

“No, no I couldn’t do that. It’s only my second day here. I’ll stay the full time. But I do really appreciate your concern, Joseph,” you replied, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Stretching, your eyes quickly scanned the room. Everything looked normal, except for one thing. Sebastian never showed up. At least, you hadn’t seen him.

“Where’s Castellanos?” You asked, glancing at his empty desk.

“He never came into work today. I just hope he’s doing alright. He’s turned to some.. unhealthy habits as means to cope with the accident. To the point where he’s been calling in sick more often than not,” Joseph sighed, rubbing his temple.

“He hasn’t been doing drugs, has he!?” You hurriedly asked, your mind jumping to all sorts of conclusions.

“Shh! Try to keep your voice down!” Joseph whispered to you, “no, he hasn’t. Well, not exactly. He’s been drinking lately. Far more than he should.”

“I trust that you won’t tell anyone about this, (First Name). I’ve been contemplating whether or not to report him to Internal Affairs, but I really think I should. The last thing we want is for him to drink himself to death.”

You nodded, your lips pursing and your brows furrowing in discontent.

“You know him much better than I do. I trust that you’re making the right decision,” you replied.

“I hope so. I don’t want to impede on his work. Something tells me that this is all that he has left and the last thing I would want to do is to take that away from him. So reporting him may be the only choice I have,” Joseph explained, his voice laced with worry.

“You’re very considerate, Joseph. He’s lucky to have a friend like you by his side,” you said to him, his eyes softening ever so slightly.

“Thank you, I try. I only want what’s best for him,” Joseph muttered, “I’m going to check up on him after work. Would you like to accompany me?”

Your eyes lit up for a moment at the thought of spending more time with him, but quickly remembered that you weren’t sure if that would be the right decision to make, seeing as you’ve only just met Castellanos.

“Ah, well.. as much as I would like to, I’m not sure that it would be appropriate. I’ve only just met him, and.. well, as it stands I’m not sure he’s exactly fond of me,” you hated to reject the offer, but you didn’t want to be a bother to Sebastian.

Joseph seemed to contemplate the decision for a few seconds.

“I.. I suppose you’re right, how about I call you after?” Joseph offered, hardly even realizing what he had just asked of you at first.

Was he.. asking you for your number? Your face flushed at the realization as your eyes darted around the room.

“I– yeah! That sounds good. Why don’t I write my number down for you?” You weren’t sure where he found the courage, even for him that was profoundly bold.

Joseph hurriedly felt each of his pockets for where he kept his small notebook. His hands rapidly tapped each of his pockets trying to find it, until he quickly felt the familiar shape of the notepad in his back pocket. As he yanked the notebook out, he was in such a frenzy that it slipped out of his fingers and fell onto the floor.

“Ah– j-just a second!” His face was beet red at this point.

As he bent down to pick up the notebook, the moment he had it within his grasp he hurriedly flipped to a blank page. He practically shoved the notebook in your face, the black page overflowing with invitation as he quickly pulled out one of his pens for you to use.

You found his eagerness and clumsiness to be both cute and incredibly charming. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your features as you carefully took the pen and wrote down your number and even drew a heart next to it.

“There you go.”

“Th-thanks, I’ll.. I’ll be sure to call you after!” Joseph stuttered, his cheeks bright red.

You nodded in response, “I’ll be waiting!”

As you stood up, you couldn’t help but stumble, still extremely groggy from the nap that you took. The room appeared to be spinning as you struggled to keep your balance.

Joseph immediately rushed to your aid and attempted to steady you by placing a hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist.

“Easy now, careful,” he muttered under his breath, the purr in his voice sending a chill down your spine.

“You’re in no condition to drive, (First Name). I’ll take you home since it’s already time to clock out anyway,” Joseph offered.

Well, he was more telling you what he was going to do rather than offering. But you were still charmed either way.

“Y-you really don’t have to, really. I’m sure I’ll be fine–” “I insist, (First Name).” You looked up at him, your chest swelling with butterflies at his generosity. He was such a gentleman and that alone did wonders to you.

“Thank you, Joseph. You’re so sweet,” you attempted to walk but ended up tripping on your own feet, stumbling into Joseph’s chest with a gentle ‘thud!’

“S-sorry!” You quickly apologized, attempting to steady yourself.

The scent of Joseph’s clothes mixed with his cologne was strangely relaxing. The feeling of his nimble yet strong arms cradling you and allowing you a chance to regain your balance so you could stand on your own ironically made your knees feel weaker.

“Come with me. My car isn’t parked too far from here,” Joseph kept one hand on your shoulder just in case you lost your balance again as you both left the office.

Joseph carefully helped you enter the front seat of his car, taking your bag from you and placing it down before he took your hand and helped you up. He paid careful attention to make sure you wouldn’t fall.

“Thank you,” you quickly thanked him before he gently shut the door behind you.

The moment you entered the car, his scent mixed with the air conditioner he used flooded your senses. It smelled just like him inside the car, the mix of his cologne as well as a mango scent being a surprisingly good combo.

He quickly entered the driver’s seat, pulling out his phone.

“Here, type in your address so I can take you home. I’ll drive you into the station in the morning so you can get your car as well,” he stated, placing his hand back on your shoulder.

“Thank you for this, again. This is more than I could’ve ever asked of you,” you remarked as you carefully typed your address into Google Maps.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” he replied, a slight smile on his face as you handed his phone back to him.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, the low hum of the engine and the sunset in the distance just made you feel so safe and comfortable. You both sat in comfortable silence as your eyelids slowly grew heavier and you felt your muscles loosen and feel lighter. Before you knew it, you slipped into the land of unconsciousness.

Just moments later, you felt a hand lightly shaking your shoulder, gently trying to awake you from your slumber.

“(First Name),” you heard a whisper from beside you.

“It’s time to wake up, you’re home now,” the voice continued as you stirred.

Your eyelids fluttered open as you turned towards the voice, and you were met by the rather pleasant sight of Joseph’s gentle features.

“Oh, crap. I fell asleep again. I’m sorry,” you apologized, rubbing your eyes to try and get yourself to wake up more.

“Don’t worry about it. Here, let me help you out of the car,” Joseph said as he got out of the driver’s seat.

Opening up the car door, he took your bag and placed it on his shoulder as he took your hand and helped you up.

“Careful of the ledge,” he reminded you as he pulled you up.

“Which apartment is yours?” He asked, one arm around your waist to steady you.

The feeling of his arm around you and his hand lightly gripping your waist made you go weak.

“It’s.. uh… floor 6 apartment number 1,” you muttered, your head foggy and knees feeling like they were about to give out any moment now.

“Right, let's go,” he made sure to keep a strong yet gentle grip on you in case you lost your balance.

As the two of you walked, you couldn’t help but admire Joseph’s features under the golden sunlight. The way it shone into his eyes created a light brown, almost golden hue. The dewy residue on the grass left from yesterday’s rain seemed to make the grass behind him sparkle. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought you were still asleep, caught in a frivolous dream that you would’ve dreaded to ever awaken from. Has your mind been playing tricks on you? Or was the man that flooded your mind the night prior truly indulging you in an act of grace, carefully cradling your waist as if you were made of glass, just to make sure you got home safe?

You watched as Joseph clicked the button for the elevator, gently guiding you inside as your eyes still struggled to stay open. Come to think of it, for the past 48 hours you had only gotten about 2 hours of sleep. The night before your first day, you were so anxious that you couldn’t fall asleep until 4:00am, two hours before you had to wake up. And just the night prior, you couldn’t sleep at all. That little amount of sleep really did a number on you.

Once the elevator got to the sixth floor, Joseph walked with you until you got to your front door.

“We’re here,” Joseph gently nudged you.

“Oh, already?” You looked up at your door, then to Joseph, “thank you, Joseph. You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble. I could have just called a taxi or something. But really, thank you. This was.. a very extravagant favor of you to do for me. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you did all of this,” you rambled, looking at the floor as your face burned red and your chest almost exploded with warmth and fuzziness.

“Really, it’s no problem (First Name). I wanted to make sure you got home safe. I’m surprised you even came into work today with how exhausted you must be. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Joseph added, motioning for you to unlock your door.

After fumbling around with your keys and finally finding the right one, you pushed your door open and quickly kicked off your shoes. Being the gentleman that he is, Joseph also made sure to remove his shoes before walking further into your apartment.

You scurried over to your couch, not even bothering to make it to your bed. You sloppily flopped down onto your couch, the soft pillows making you lightly bounce up and down. The soft cushions felt like heaven to your muscles as you grabbed a pillow to rest your head on.

The corners of his mouth softly curved upwards into a small smile, admiring how peaceful you looked. After taking in the sight for a few seconds longer, he quickly looked around for a blanket to put over your sleeping form.

After finding a soft plaid blanket that had been neatly folded atop one of your shelves, he gently placed the blanket on top of you, careful not to disturb your slumber. He carefully knelt down next to you, before carefully whispering, “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, (First Name) but–” he stopped in his tracks when he realized you had already fallen asleep, a small chuckle escaping from his chest.

He sighed a bit before tucking a strand of your hair out of your face and behind your ear. As if on impulse, he planted a small kiss on your cheek before finally standing back up. As much as he wished he could stay with you for longer, he needed to check up on Sebastian. Who for all he knew, was drinking himself to death.

Hastily ripping out a page in his notebook, he wrote down a small message for you when you awoke. Leaving it on your coffee table, he paid you one last glance before finally making his way back to your front door. Gently shutting the door behind him, he let out a breath that he hadn’t even known he was holding in.

“(First & Last Name), you’re going to be the death of me.”

and this marks the end of chapter 3!!! i hope this wasnt too boring </3 i promise the next chapter is going to be much much more entertaining than this one LOL quick silly little thing i did: i made the reader's apartment number floor 6 apartment number 1 because joseph's bday is 6/1!

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 4:

#joseph oda x reader #joseph oda #the evil within #the evil within 2 #sebastian castellanos #juli kidman #tew x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

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