#lmk if it’s too close to the reference so i can correct that in the future!!

[kerberozz]

hi!! i made a silly little harpy bird guy,,, this is phineus !!!!! they’re inspired by a bearded vulture (obviously) and they like to collect magic items!!! they’re not super good at being aware of how valuable some of the things they collect are, but yeah!

[steviebbboi]

Demon's Devotion

Pairing: Incubus!Lloyd x F!Hunter!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k~

Summary: A deal that should have been black-and-white has suddenly become grey. Swapping souls means swapping places. You just didn't think that meant to spend eternity with him.

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hootenanny writing challenge~ sincere thanks to lovely Yenzy and Amber for being the gems that they are <3 I'm also going to submit this into my own writing challenge (lol) Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge . Anyone is welcome to join~

Dividers and banner by me :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cute~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; dubcon, non-con, softdark!Lloyd (but mainly dark tbh), mentions of death, very slight slight mentions of infidelity, drugs, alcohol, Reader has low self-esteem/self-worth, demonic manipulation(?), Latin dialogue (cannot claim accuracy!).

Tropes/situational prompts: fantasy/supernatural AU, the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

Kinks: size, cockwarming, belly bulging, praise, possessive, squirting, corruption.

Seasonal prompts: meeting a demon/ghost/witch on All Hallows Eve

Smut dialogue:  "You gonna be good for me?" + "I'm gonna make you mine" + "you love it like this, don't you?" + "If you only knew the things I want to do to you" + "Tell me you're mine" + "You wanted my attention, now you have it" + "Please! I can be good. So good for you. I promise" + “You belong to me now” + “Look at that, I think I broke your pretty brain, made you all dumb for me” + "Just a little more" + "Look at how good you're taking me" 

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification; degradation, thigh fucking, dacryphilia, aphrodisiac/demon trance (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

A/N: this is the first time that I'm writing Lloyd too so I hope I did him some justice. Also, mild references to the tv show Supernatural (I do not own the lore of TGM nor Supernatural)!

The wood was splotchy– and itched against your skin uncomfortably as you sat on your knees. The ‘devil’s trap’ was intact as you leaned over to complete the chalk-circle. Quickly gazing over the symbol to ensure the correct sigils, you leaned back once more to close your eyes and take a deep breath. You tried your best to calm your body and connect with that part of you justifying the reasons behind calling upon a demon.

“Promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.” 

You cringed as you heard your ex’s solemn request echo in your thoughts. Yet again, you made a promise that you couldn’t keep. But this time, it was for his life. His soul. Your relationship was never perfect, and that’s certainly what nipped your romantic relationship in the bud, but you’ve known each other for so long…you couldn’t let him go through with it.

Broken promises was the cycle of your romantic relationship together – whether it was infidelity, drugs, alcohol, all the way to the end of the spectrum where it would also be just him going on extensive hunting trips without proper communication. 

You both knew that the relationship was doomed when it started. He wasn’t capable of showing up for you the way that you were ready to do for him. You knew that, that’s why you ultimately ended the relationship. 

And yet, here you sit in a mildew-infested, smelly, abandoned church on All Hallow’s Eve - ready to trade places with him. 

He was meant to do a lot of good in the world. He was a good hunter, a good brother, and a good friend. He was the main character in a story that you weren’t meant to be a part of, and that’s fine. You didn’t belong in his arc. You were a side character that had a stunted narrative for a while, but didn’t belong nor play any significance into moving the story forward.

When you heard the news about how he made a deal with the crossroads demon, it suddenly clicked on how you could actually do something worthwhile. You knew that he experienced a loss, a real hit from what you’ve heard. They fell in together not long after you both ended your relationship. While that fact spared no pain on your end, you did your best to stuff it down as he obviously loved her enough to have made that deal for her life. So you did what you did best, extended light and support through your pain. Feeling so selfish to have even felt a mark of bitterness.

A hunter’s life is a grim one. Everyone knows that any relationships that you do end up having either end in misery or in blood. But the value of something light and wonderful like love was tempting for people in the life. But, it always seemed to have a cost.

You were a shit hunter, maybe a mediocre person, but maybe, just maybe, your life could have purpose by doing this one thing. 

Something that just makes the pain that you have endured worth it. 

It was that purpose that hardened your resolve. Any lingering doubts solidified into genuine acceptance as you relaxed your body and invited a deep breath, “I summon you, anima daemonium. Anima obscura, i vocare te.”

You repeated the command two more times until you finally felt it. A warmth that seemed to grow steadily hotter which had you hiss in pain as you felt the sordid temperature through your jeans. The chalk circle in front of you started to beam this blinding, white light that illuminated the dark vast space for a few seconds. Your eyes couldn’t hold open for too long as you scrunched them closed in alert from the sudden, bright visual. 

The air in the room became thin and you could feel your lungs expanding to fill them up with as much air as you could with your breath falling heavier with each silent minute that passed. The silence was consciously loud as you looked around the still empty dark space. 

“Hmmm…now what’s this?” 

You heard a low rumbled, amused voice come from behind you. Your heart was beating so fast and you could feel your stomach just plummet to the floor. He was supposed to manifest within the circle…if he bypassed it like that completely, that meant that he was no ordinary crossroads demon.

A deep and intense fear rose up in your throat as you attempted to ground yourself out of your frozen state. You could feel your body tremble as you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder only to find a looming, darkened figure standing directly behind you. Your gaze drifted upwards to find the identifying face to the haunting voice and you couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your dry lips. 

He was…human. A tall silhouette that exuded an air of danger and allure. His skin seemed to absorb the light around him, contrasting sharply with the piercing, smoldering gaze that flickered an ice blue in the dark. A chiseled jawline gave him an almost otherworldly handsomeness, while his full lips, donned with a daring mustache, curved into a knowing smile that hinted at secrets best left unspoken.

Your confusion to his form, and his looks, felt like an aside as you took in this almost invisible yet loudly formidable being standing over you. 

“Who are you?” Your lips moved faster than your brain could register any coherent thoughts. Your curiosity peaked the moment that you saw him appear in the space.

The handsome demon merely chuckled at your confusion before indicating towards his own body. “This meat suit? Mmmm, not too sure. A poor, unfortunate soul shrouded in his own darkness enough for me to climb into him and take over.” A resounding smirk followed his explanation as he narrowed his gaze at you with an interest that you couldn’t place.

You could only stammer out, “B-but, you’re h-human?” You looked over his figure again as he donned an unorthodox causal fit that you would never have pegged a demon, or honestly anyone, to wear. But with the way that he carried himself, the demon’s confidence was palpable. He was comfortable in this physical form, that’s for sure. The power that was exuding from him was staggering.

The demon cooed at your naivety, “Oh, sunshine. You have no idea who you’ve called and what you’ve just done, do you?”

He moved with a grace that was both mesmerizing and predatory as he knelt down to meet your petrified stare. There was an intoxicating aura about him, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to look away, even as a primal instinct warned of the peril he represented. His presence was electric, a heady mix of danger and desire, making it clear that this was a being not to be trifled with—a seducer cloaked in darkness, where charm and menace intertwined seamlessly.

You’re frozen in place in dual fear and pure fascination as he leaned forward into your personal space to clutch your chin with two fingers, prodding up your face for his invasive inspection. You weirdly felt awkward as you knelt before him under his scrutinous gaze. Piercing blue eyes were washing over the features, nooks-and-cranny, details of your face. Every so often, he would tilt your head to the side to inspect your profile, all the way down towards your kneeling body, and just smirk.

After 5 minutes of his torturous appraisal, he let go of your chin suddenly only to lean closer to your face. His pointed nose brushed yours so lightly, you couldn’t help the urge to look down at his mouth, feeling the hairs of his mustache graze your skin. But you could also see and almost feel the softness of his pink lips. His smirk grew on his face as if he figured something out as he turned to brush said lips against yours very faintly, almost teasingly. 

You gasped at the unexpected contact and a haze washed over you that you didn’t question and felt compelled to close your eyes. Almost as if you didn’t, you would pass out from the intensity of the contact of the potential of his kiss. You leaned in slowly as your mouth was almost waiting for the pressure of his teasing brush…but it never came. 

Coming back to yourself, almost like out of a trance, you gasped harshly at noticing the proximity between the two of your bodies and pushed against his chest to sit inside of the chalk circle to gain distance. 

Breathing heavy at how close you just were to this supernatural inane being, you cursed yourself for letting yourself get entranced into his allure as it hit you.

“You’re an incubus.” A sneer was released unconsciously at the realization. The demon’s smirk only softened at your disdained use of the term and his only response was to deeply hum in confirmation.

“I suppose that is one name that people know me by…but I sense that you may not be so comfortable with that. How about we go with…’Lloyd’?” He proposed as he stood up with his hands in his slack-pockets. 

You ignored his comfortable jeering to stand from your coveted position within the circle. “I didn’t call for you, incubus. I’m here for a crossroads demon.” You clarified sneeringly.

“And yet again, another name that people may know me by.” Lloyd said simply with another smirk on his face. He couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over your shifting body once more. You certainly looked like a hunter, but your ignorance and naivety gave you away at how utterly unskilled/trained you were in the craft. 

The realization made Lloyd’s dark soul tremble in excitement at the potential of catching a brazen, beautifully innocent, yet idiotic soul like yours. And to feast on one that looks like you, with an energy so devoting and submissive…he was suddenly ravenous.

The haze that you felt earlier felt almost like a white, hot energy that was wading towards you when you noticed ‘Lloyd’s’ gaze shifting over your figure once again but with this newfound hunger in his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably as your body responded to the shift in the air. You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly in shame as you felt it…the wetness that was accumulating in your underwear. 

It didn’t matter that he was a literal sex demon who preyed on women– it was like all boundaries didn’t matter as you felt a similar urge to throw all inhibitions out the window, stalk over to him to have him throw you down on the dusty, creaking floor to just take you over and over again as you begged him for more. 

You shook your head to clear your sinful thoughts, knowing that demons can sense wicked thoughts– but to your detriment, Lloyd seemed to clock something about your tense and conflicted frame and suddenly inhaled deeply. 

You knew that you were caught when you saw that his cocked head straightened in discovery at smelling your arousal in the musty space. He released a deep grunt as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure. The atmospheric drop in the air was palpable and the room became so distinctly warm, you could feel sweat dropping on your temple at the change. 

Panting at the sudden rise in heat and thinning air, tears started to build in your eyes at looking over the demon’s now darkened gaze. He looked like he was going to attack you, and it didn’t scare you that you may lose your life nor was it that he would take you without consent. 

What was scary was that you wanted him to take you. You wanted to feel him in his own heat on your bare, naked skin as he thrusted his hard cock into your eager pussy and feel the supernatural strength of his grip holding your hands above your head. So much so that you wouldn’t be able to escape him. You didn’t want to leave him, you wanted him to devour you.

You tried to shake your head out of these fantasies and get back to the present but the heat wouldn’t let you. The haze felt so strong. You could hear yourself mumbling something about the heat and subconsciously took off the denim jacket you’re wearing in desperation to feel cool.

In your present view, you could see Lloyd walk determinedly towards you and you found a consciousness present enough to take a few steps back to the tops of the chalk circle. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to enter it, that’s why he bypassed it in the first place. A demon’s trap is meant to do exactly that, he wouldn’t risk losing his prey and enter the circle where you could easily escape. 

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, Lloyd’s eyes narrowed in mirth as he released a dark chuckle and stopped before entering the circle. “Oooh, sunshine, you’re so cute to think that you could escape me now. You wanted my attention, now you have it.”

He took one dramatic step inside. 

Your eyes widened in shock, not being able to process what he was doing and you turned to run out but you couldn’t. 

You physically could not leave the circle as you felt an invisible barrier brush against your hands that were banging against them to desperately leave. “NO! What’s happening, no–,” you gasped out, tears started to roll down your flushed cheeks as you felt him close. What was worse was that even though you wanted to get away, you wanted him to get even closer. To keep you inside of the circle with him. Delightfully trapped.

A large, warm hand touched your shoulder and spun you around as you shrieked. Tears of panic and confusion were still streaming down your face. Using the sudden invisible barrier as a wall, you shrunk yourself against it as much as you could, trying to resist the confusing and tempting pull, but it didn’t work. Lloyd gripped your waist and pulled you tight against him, your body non-resisting to his touch even though your mind protested.

Your hands reacted to instinctively catch yourself against his suddenly bare chest. You released another squeak at the feeling of his skin. The heat of his naked torso felt so relieving against yours. 

“Just like you thought he would feel like…” You thought to yourself, eyes narrowed in its seeming haze. The part of you that was still conscious and afraid frowned at the feeling of his skin on yours. Looking down, the both of you were bare naked. 

“What- !” You shrieked, not even remembering when or how your clothes disappeared. A wave of insecurity rushed through you at the vulnerability that you were left with in front of Lloyd, who although is a demon, was shaped like a Greek god. You felt as if dignity was taken away from you as Lloyd’s hands wandered over the skin of your naked back and up towards the back of your neck. His touch was not forcing though, it was as light as a teasing feather.

You tried, you really did, to get away from his wandering, sinful hands but he felt so smooth, warm, and so comforting. The reality was that you didn’t want to get away as he kept you pressed against him where you could feel everything. His hardened cock that you weren’t able to really look at earlier was firmly pressed against the pudge of your stomach. You couldn’t tell where the intense rush of heat was coming from, whether it was this haze or him, but you felt it flushed in your cheeks at feeling Lloyd’s erection. The knowledge that he was turned on by you.

“Of course I am, little one. Look at you. So beautiful before me. Calling for me. I'm gonna make you mine.” Lloyd murmured seductively as he responded to your hazed thoughts. His other hand moved to grip the front of your neck carefully.

He wasn’t choking you, his grip was deceivingly light, but the promise of it was what had you whimpering in response. You just barely registered how he was able to give you a response to something that was being noticed in your head.

“What’s happening to me? How are you doing this?” The only curiosities that your clouded mind was able to circle around were asked as his grip turned your face upwards to sultry and lustfully graze your lips against his.

Lloyd wickedly grinned and hummed again before he murmured his response against your pillowy lips, “You’re sleeping, sunshine.” 

You could only look up into his mirth-filled eyes as you mildly registered the shock settling in your system. “No, that can’t be…I drove here and drew the circle, I called…” you drifted in your disbelief as Lloyd turned your bodies so that he was behind you. Your view no longer obscured by his taut body, you looked down to see your limp body…just laying there, seemingly unmoving.

Your eyes only widened more as Lloyd petted your hair soothingly, sensing your distress. “Oh my god, I’m dead. I’m. dead.” Flooded with panic, your body was frozen as your thoughts ruminated in a vicious cycle.

Almost condescendingly, he noted carelessly, “You’re not dead, little one. Your body is in what we call, the in-between. Or purgatory, as some may say.” 

A high-pitched ring sang in your ears as you tried to take in Llloyd’s words. “But, I didn’t let you in. I didn’t give you permission.” You remarked disbelievingly as you tried to recall the regulations and rules surrounding demon possession. It’s only if you invite them into your soul, do they insert themselves, almost brutally, into your physical body and spirit. But you didn’t say the words…

“Didn’t you though?” Lloyd deviously smiled again in response to your disbelief. He hummed against your skin as he proceeded to inhale your hair and down towards your inner neck. 

Unknowingly, your eyes closed deliriously as you felt his breath brush against your skin. Lloyd nosed your shoulder affectionately while he revealed mockingly, “Sealed with a kiss – a brush against the lips is all it takes to bind a human soul with a demon. And you, sunshine, are the sweetest soul that I’ve taken in a long, long time.” 

His cerulean blue eyes met your shocked filled irises as he witnessed the reflective realization wash over you. Noticing the tears in your eyes, Lloyd thought that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you did right then and there.

He cooed at you again and turned your frozen frame to face him once more. “Aw, little one. I promise to take good care of you. If you only knew the things I want to do to you.” 

Lloyd’s large hands grasped the back of your head to pull you hard onto his weathered lips. You were stunned at the sudden move but also couldn’t hold back the pleasured moan that left your throat at the feeling of his wet tongue caressing yours. You’ve never been kissed like this in your life– feeling cherished or owned by somebody…something else. And it felt so fucking good.

An insidious and sudden gratification came over your body as your hands clutched onto Lloyd's muscular frame to clutch yourself to his body. The heat felt overwhelmingly dangerous as you kissed the incubus demon with as much eagerness as he was extending upon your aching lips. 

You couldn’t remember the reason as to why you even came here in the first place, nor do you even recall where you were at that moment. All you could feel was Lloyd as he kissed you languidly and passionately. He was all that you wanted to feel. 

Breaking the kiss, Lloyd drew back but kept his hands in your hair to ensure his control. "You gonna be good for me, sunshine?" 

The only thing you could do is cry desperately as the warmth overtook your body once again. Feeling flushed and needy for his skin on yours, you wantonly cried out, “Yes! I promise I’ll be such a good girl for you, Lloyd. Please! I can be good. So good for you. I promise. Please.” 

You didn’t sound like yourself at all, but at that moment, you couldn’t find anything in you to care. You were desperate for him. You only wanted to be touched, wanted, and seen by him. Almost as if you needed him to know how devoted you were to giving him all of you, your soul.

Lloyd’s eyes rolled back in his head in derived pleasure as he smelled the desperation and need come off of you in waves. He nuzzled your nose against his with a gratified hum and said, “Tell me you're mine. You need to say it, sunshine, and then I’ll give you whatever you want.”

In one breath, you didn’t even hesitate, “I’m yours. Please, I let you in.” 

Hearing the words explicitly spoken from your pouty lips, Lloyd growled out possessively while granting you another deep and wet kiss. As he pulled back, his teeth bit your bottom lip slowly and seductively as he finished the deal against your pursed lips, “You belong to me now.”

A binding force tingled from your feet and up all over your body once his words were spoken. It felt ethereal and other worldly, but it felt right. You didn’t even recognize what you’ve just done as you have suddenly found yourself on your back, Lloyd kissing you so softly, it felt so contrasting to his demonic nature.

“I’ve treated all of my soul thralls as I see fit in the past. Though you, little one, are by far the brightest soul that I’ve come across in a millenia. Right when I saw you kneeling right by my feet, those eyes looked up at me so delicately. There was longing in your gaze that I needed for myself. Seems like you knew that you needed me too, hm?” 

You only could nod preciously against his soft lips as you pursued another kiss from him. Your tongue sought his as you battled for his attentive mouth, and before you knew it, just as you predicted and wanted, he was laying you on top of the chalk-drawn circle. 

Not even registering the cold harsh wood against your back, you felt so enveloped by his aura. Something internally shifted as you felt that warmth that radiated from your physical body internalize and bloom into something so wholesome, almost as if you felt that hole in your heart repair into a strong, full organ that wanted for nothing. 

You felt complete. 

A gasp escaped you as you broke away from the impassioned kiss. The warmth in your chest seemed to materialize all over your body, inside of you and out. A keening moan left your mouth as you felt the heat start to rush down to your core between your legs. Another gush of wet just seeped out of you and Lloyd growled as if he could feel it escaping too. 

You questioned him breathlessly against his impatient lips, “What’s happening?”

Another whimper left your throat as you felt this deep desire from before just amplify into something that felt not of this earth. It felt transcendent, ancient, and light. It felt like a high that tuned up the feeling of pleasure and ecstasy so that any brush of Lloyd’s skin on yours, the smell of him, the ridges of his muscular body, turned you on so delightfully.

Lloyd teasingly brushed his lips against the exposed length of your neck and you could feel his smirk almost seep into your skin with the following words.

“Our souls just became one, sunshine.” 

A brief moment of panic escaped that cloud of bliss that overcame your conscious body and mind. Sensing your panic, Lloyd cooed at you once more to provide a comfort that you didn’t know that you needed in that moment. A reassurance of sorts against the thought that this feeling between you in this moment was fleeting and temporary. 

“Don’t worry, little one. I’m yours just as much as you are mine. Forever.” His lips whispered against yours intimately before he licked into your yearning mouth, capturing your tongue in another heated dance. 

His words lit a fire deep inside of you and you felt your pussy clench on nothing but his promise. You gasped and tilted your head back in pleasure as Lloyd proceeded to press heated kisses down your throat and towards your breasts. 

“Forever?” You gasped out as your lungs tried desperately to breathe in more air. The conscious part of you incredulously realized that all of this made no sense to you. How was he able to read your body so well? Your thoughts? How is he able to impact you like this? Give you the greatest pleasure and burning desire that you’ve ever felt in your entire life? 

Taking a pert nipple into his mouth, his tongue brushed over the tip teasingly while you pressed his head closer to your chest at the sensation. 

“A soul contract is an everlasting bond between your soul and mine. You have something valuable that I need, and so did you. I just needed you to submit to me, give yourself completely to me in order to make the trade.” He spoke in between placing wet kisses on your sternum to switch his attention to your other breast. Blowing cold air on your nipple, Lloyd smirked and darkly chucked as he witnessed you tremble in delight. You sobbed at feeling the cold air brush against your warm skin, a temporary aid in relief for more.

“But, you didn’t even know what I wanted.” You attempted to recall the reasons as to why and when you summoned him. Although, you were unsuccessful as that part of you was dimming as time went by, especially the more that you felt Lloyd descend closer towards your heated core. 

Lloyd chuckled against the smooth flesh of your soft tummy and to your detriment, kissed his way back up towards your lips. After taking you apart with his fervent mouth once more, he gathered your clenched fists to hold them against the sodden wood in one strong grip. 

Your wrists were now caught in his powerful hold and he leaned in close to capture your yearning gaze. His eye contact was so intense as he stared back, even though he already had your soul, it was almost like he was trying to peer inside.

“You didn’t really want to save that piece of trash hunter, did you?” He kissed your cheek innocently as you felt a shock wave up towards your newly-filled heart. 

“How did you…? But I didn’t say anything about him…” Your shock was on full display as he continued to press small kisses over the frozen expression of your face.

“He abandoned you. Mistreated you. He left you for another woman, and you still wanted to go and save him?” He whispered darkly against the swell of your ear before pressing delicate kisses to your earlobe. Nipping lightly, he continued to murmur ominously, “He isn’t worthy of your loyalty, little one. So, I decided to take it instead.” 

A tear fell down your cheek at the feelings of loss and sadness, memories of your old life flashing behind your bewitched eyes. Lloyd quickly licked up the fallen tear with a growl, “He didn’t deserve you, sunshine. You and I both know that even though you came here for him, you really came here for yourself. You wanted to give yourself to something that could actually hold you. Tame you.”

Your deepest thoughts of yourself being verbalized by Lloyd in such an unconcerned manner brought more flashes to recent memories, it played like a movie in your mind’s eye. Moments where you felt that abandonment by your ex, hearing his resolute voice on the phone as he mentioned the deal with a demon for the ‘love of his life’, a woman who wasn’t you. 

Pressing kisses to the corner of your eye that was now freely leaking fresh tears, Lloyd made sure to nuzzle you in comfort, “But you weren’t meant for that life. A life that only involved the killing of creatures, demons– living a hunter’s life wasn’t what you were destined for, little one.” 

Your teary gaze met his confident blue eyes as he leaned over you once more, “Don’t you see, sunshine? You were made and meant for me. And for me alone.”

With that, Lloyd pressed his curled lips against you harshly and any traces of sadness or loneliness left your soul. A feeling of wanting to be possessed completely by him replaced the aloneness that came over you from before. It was like he was the only cure. 

Eagerly and recklessly losing yourself in the enriching feeling, you were almost inhaling his kiss as you pressed your naked body up into his. Feeling his erection against your inner thigh, you writhed against him to finally make him take you.

"You love it like this, don't you? The fact that I own you and now, I’m going to ruin you, little one." Lloyd groaned against your warm and willing skin. Shifting just so, you gasped as his hard cock brushed against your weeping pussy. 

“Answer me, my little thrall.” Lloyd allowed you to grind against his cock but just barely against your slit. Fucking into your wet and slippery thighs, you whimpered and tried to rock your hips closer to him to push him inside you.

“Yes! I love it! I need you to take me, please! I don’t want to be alone anymore, please.” You begged the demon as the tears returned, feeling this want and power surge through you as your soul and body fully submitted to him. It was so overwhelming. All you knew was that his possession helped smother the darkest depths of yourself from coming out. He welcomed you into himself and you gladly gave it to him.

Lloyd groaned quietly and deeply inhaled the darkest of truths that were emoting from your pheromones within the crook of your neck while he whispered seductively, “Ah, there it is. Thank you, sunshine. Shush now, my good girl.” 

He raised his head to look into your weepy eyes once more, “You’re never going to be alone again.” A soft smile graced the strong features of his face and a warmth full of genuine love blossomed inside of you at the sight. Around your repaired heart sat Lloyd’s genuine smile, such a stark contrast to darkness that you would’ve ever expected to receive from the incubus. 

The warmth only expanded as Lloyd pushed his cock inside of you with one smooth thrust, your wetness facilitating the most pleasurable union. Instantly, your eyes rolled back in complete bliss as you were so worked up, it was the feeling of his girthy cock just sliding inside of you that made you come undone. You cried out in pure ecstasy and a ringing sound numbed around your ears where you could barely hear Lloyd’s wicked chuckle as he praised you for surrendering yourself to him. 

He didn’t stop thrusting inside of you, not even when you clenched around him so tightly that he gritted his teeth at the sensation. His cock was stretching you out and hitting spots deep inside of you that no lover ever could– the gratification of finally being joined together was just too much. His hands weren’t idle as they caressed your breasts and roughly groped your waist, down towards your plush ass where he slapped the reddening flesh. 

He slapped your ass again and tilted his hips so that you could feel him go even deeper. You released a squeak at the novel feeling and Lloyd took that as his opportunity to slow his pace, but not lessening the controlling grip that he had around your waist. You marveled and whimpered at the thought of seeing his marks on your body later as you tore you apart. 

Going deep and slow, his thrusts became harder and your body jolted with every thrust he gave you as you were inundated with how good his cock felt, finally reaching the spot inside of you that made your mind go blank. It activated that switch where your body just went limp and you felt even more vulnerable to the demon’s ravaging. You didn’t even care to feel embarrassed by your loud moans and whimpers, nor the drool that was escaping you. Your eyes simply rolled shut as you lost yourself in the consistent press against your g-spot. 

“Aw, look at that, sunshine. I think I broke your pretty brain, made you all dumb for me.” Lloyd had a smug smirk on his face, accentuating his intimidating presence even more. 

You could only release quiet ‘ngh’s as if in a trance as he continued to fuck you hard and deep. The knot in your stomach started building again as tears of heartfelt satisfaction and adoration filled you once more. You couldn’t describe it, but it was like Lloyd was fucking you with purpose and intent to show you that you were truly made for him. Almost as if he already knew all of your kinks and was exploiting them for proof– evidence that he will always be what you need. 

“Thaaat’s it, just a little more," he groaned out and readjusted his grip so that he could tilt your hips just right until your eyes opened in startled ecstasy, a cry leaving your lips as his cock went even deeper. “There you go, my little thrall. Look at how good you're taking me." He gestured to the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach. The sight of his cock being that deep inside of you was what had you shatter around him for the second time.

You released a guttural moan as you let go, barely coming down from your orgasm when Lloyd decided to rub your swollen, drenched clit with the rough of his thumb. Your back arched and your legs thrashed until Lloyd held down your body and fucked you faster with his thumb still placing frantic pulses on your bundle of nerves. 

At your limit, your face contorted into an expression that can only depict unrestrained and unexpected bliss as you screamed out your orgasm, squirting all over Lloyd’s wide cock.

The feeling of your sopping cunt gripping his cock made Lloyd release a dark, guttural and infernal roar as he came inside of your still pulsing channel. He gave you three more half-hearted thrusts as his spend leaked around his cock, inadvertently pushing his cum deeper inside of you. 

Lloyd caressed your trembling thighs soothingly as he also attempted to catch his breath. He couldn’t help the last resounding smack against your supple flesh as he noticed your fucked out expression. Eyes wilted with pleasured exhaustion, your body shaking as exhilaration died down.

“You're so beautiful like this, sunshine." He moaned adoringly as he pulled his half-hard cock out of your still quivering pussy. You moaned at the loss of him and could feel your shared cum dripping out of you.

“Mmmm, a sight that will never tire me, I’m sure.” Lloyd groaned out deeply with his smirk still upon his pink lips. He leaned over you for a moment to continue taking in your post-coital glow. He pressed a hand to your chest covering your heart and shuddered at the warming feeling it brought him under his palm. 

What you would find out later is that every sensation that you felt, he felt. Your thoughts were now his thoughts too. Your desires were his. While you were exhausted from your soul celebrations, the enmeshment gave Lloyd an invigorated rush of power. He only took pieces of you with every orgasm he gave you. Your heightened arousal would become his, and so on, everytime that he would take you.

The way that his own empty hearted chest filled with a lightness and charge that he’d never felt before since his existence. He knew that he would, indeed, keep you forever.

Lloyd genuinely smiled in satisfaction as he felt power rushing through his veins. Nuzzling your flushed cheek with affection, he murmured, “Now, little one, let’s go home, shall we?” 

Final A/N: Welp! that happened. I originally was writing this SoftDark!Demon!Lloyd as a stand-alone from this poll but when the Hootenanny challenge was announced, I thought it would be a perfect fit 😈 Hope you enjoyed reading this ficlet, and reblogs/comments are very welcome~

Tag List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes @autumnrose40

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[tezzbot]

Hiiii I love the way you draw the trolls!! I know this is weirdly specific but how on Earth do you draw the hands ;w;

I've (mostly) got the hang of troll anatomy with the feet, torso- even the neck and head but my gosh I cannot get the hang of the hands and arms. Do you.. mayhaps, happen to have any tips for a beginner artist? Or possibly a reference handy?

This is kiind of difficult to explain bc in my head it's just. I Do It KGJFH which I know isn't exactly helpful so I am gonna try my best to explain my process

I am gonna be describing how I do it in My style so there's gonna be discrepencies between how I do it and how they look in the actual movies, but I hope it helps break em down enough?? Idk we'll see

Gonna need a diagram to help bc it's easier to show than tell so uhhh hey Branch

So, I know you're asking for hands but yknow arms are part of it lol, so the trolls in the movies do have arms that go from slimmer at the shoulders to wider at the wrists (there is a word for this. they taper?? I think?), I tend to exaggerate it a little just because it makes more sense in my head and for me personally is easier to draw, think of em as like little teddy bear arms lol

Some proportions in Trolls (and to how I draw anything generally lol) are incredibly flexible so it really doesn't matter how good you are at anatomy, the idea is to make it look good moreso than make Sense a lot of the time, as long as it looks vaguely right then you're on the right track :P

Now for what you actually asked for: The Hands!!

Troll paws are real nubby little things lol, but they do operate just the same as any other regular hand you would draw, just a lil more squart and missing a finger sgfdhf

Think in more Rounded Rectangles than anatomically correct hands. I think that instead of the three knuckle joints humans have, it is easier to picture them as having two (I think that's how it is in the movies anyway?? icr lol) The knuckle where the finger connects to the hand and then a single joint in the middle of the finger to allow it to yk actually bend LOL

Also drawing hands in general, The little chubby bits on the outside of your hand under your pinkies and thumbs are really useful guidelines for me personally, so it's good to know if that helps you too ^_^

As for actually connecting the hands With the arms - Again this is for my style, it's not really how it looks in the movies I don't think but, it's close enough that I get away with it FHGFJH

So, generally what I'll do is I'll connect the back of the arm to that first knuckle, usually making a little triangle where I guess the back of the hand is??? This can be squarshed and stretched as needed, I usually don't even think about it tbh but I did notice that it's there DSGFDHF

And here's just a couple other angles of hand arm connection. Otherwise, yeah, they do basically just work like regular ol people hands they're just a lil chunkier hehe

Also you can hide a bent elbow behind a hand nobody has to know.... as long as it lines up it doesn't matter... GHKFG

Thank you Branch for being our wonderful hand / arm model this evening

And I hope this was in any way at all useful!! If you'd like any more explanation or have any other questions feel free to lmk!!

[onlyseokmins]

bereal • k.m.g.

Pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, taking pics during sex!au Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a girl, consensual pictures during sex that are shared to friends lol, swearing, degradation, objectification (tiny), a lot of oral (m. receiving), rope play (reader is tied up), marking, tiny use of toys, teasing, edging (m. &f. receiving), prolly oral fixation tbh, mentions of fingering (f. receiving), mentions of overstim, me thinking I'm funny again as usual, and like "you better cum fast" kinda thing fjkdsj um pls lmk if i missed smth WC: 2.5k A/N: helloooo I had no idea what BeReal was so this was a bit of an experience 😬 would just like to thank @/princessbetsy123-blog for their patience and understanding, I hope I did well haha also omg tumblr user onlyseokmins is writing non-sub gyu? show-stopping (derogatory) also huge thank you to @a1sh1teruu for the mingyu pic! ❤️ @princessbetsy123-blog asked: can you do any member where his BEREAL goes off during sex and their friends react? The reader has hickies all over her chest and neck and is tied up?

Ding!

⚠️ Time to BeReal. ⚠️

• 2 min left to capture a BeReal and see what your friends are up to! •

"Would you look at that, baby? What perfect timing, d'ya wanna show everyone how pretty you look?"

Your butt rests gingerly against the back of your ankles, wrists bound together behind your back. The soft ropes limiting your arm movements match the ones winding across your body that Mingyu spent over half of the afternoon tying, untying, and tying again with his large-ass fingers until he was satisfied after reading detailed instructions from Minghao.

Finally able to perfect the multi-colored knots and ties that looked absolutely lecherous yet stunning across your naked body, rubbing and squeezing all the right places. It doesn't matter whether you remain still like the obedient slut you are or wriggle and writhe in anticipation of what the man's going to do next to thrillingly torture you, you felt their restriction.

"Yeah, Gyu."

"The prettiest," he murmurs, thumb slipping under the ropes that accentuate your breasts. Your posture is helpfully corrected and uplifts your chest in a flattering manner so he can nip and suck as he likes without you wiggling away.

You mewl at the binds tightening, arching your back as much as you can while he traces patterns connected by the harsh love bites you can feel littered across your skin that he'd left earlier. 

Your body aches pleasantly all over. Having been edged for hours by now, it was well into the evening after a combination of intense, loving foreplay and the still-buzzing vibrator abandoned on the bed sheets from the distracting notification chime of his phone instead. You lean into his tickling touch as it slides up your neck, following more bites that scream "Mine!" all over.

"Mine," he confirms aloud with a whisper. "Will you let me show them how true that fact is?"

"Only… only if you let me cum." 

Your eyes close as he holds your cheek tenderly and aims the phone's camera lens. A sheen of arousal sticks to your thighs and no doubt ruined the ties around them with how much of a mess he's created out of you.

"Of course, love. I'd be an incompetent fool if I didn't and couldn't make such a pretty thing like you cum at least once."

He should've thought of that earlier, is what you want to snark back but you're too desperate to give him any attitude for his blabberings. He would never deny you anything for too long anyways.

Though you take the opportunity to bite lightly on the knuckle of the finger that somehow pushes past your lips, grazing your upper teeth down until right before his nail bed begins, opting to suckle at the tip instead. Swirling it around languidly and sloppily, saliva coating every inch of his finger to soothe the stinging indentation marks you feel out with your tongue.

"Dirty girl."

"Mhm, but I'm your dirty girl."

"Damn right you are."

He knows what you're playing at, what you're trying to prove. The vixen-like gleam behind those fluttering eyelashes as you dare to smirk — releasing his finger with a sickening pop that his cock wishes was it instead.

But he manages to hold back, intent on finishing his own little game before he fucks you stupid so you can't continue to tease him like this.

"One minute left. What position do you think would look best? There are too many to decide from."

Ever the photographer, Mingyu groans because he's utterly turned on (and continues to lose his mind over how good you look) but also due to frustration (again, over how perfect you are from every angle) for you as his muse sources an ever-flowing spring of inspiration. A blessing and a curse.

He's moving back and forth across the mattress, unintentionally jostling your tied-up form with his large body. You dumbly choke out "dick" when he nearly falls into you with the usual Mingyu-clumsiness you know and love. Luckily he possesses the brain cell at the moment to connect the dots between his covered crotch nearly shoved right into your face versus you actually insulting him.

"Baby wants my dick?"

You nod fervently, wishing you could reach your hands out and grab it. Instead, you opt to open your mouth as wide as you've memorized the impressive width of his cock, tongue lolling out as well for the heavy weight of it.

Mingyu full on moans — loudly — at your frenzied eagerness. Watching hungrily as your lower body shifts and your thighs squeeze together, skin straining against the tightened constraints of the rope. Evidence of how much you want him shows all of your body. From your lidded gaze to your puffy, neglected clit he can just imagine prettily between your legs — and it makes his chest swell in pride. 

He's quick to shed his boxers and absolutely cannot resist a little love slap to your cheek with his throbbing, aching dick. Smugly painting your cheek with a shiny smear of precum and tapping your awaiting tongue teasingly, not letting your lips wrap around him. 

Yet.

The timer is set and so is Mingyu's mind.

But yours is as well.

"Damn it, thirty seconds and I can't decide what's best."

You watch in mild irritation at the way he holds his dick with a frown of renewed concentration, bringing it in and out of the frame of his phone lenses. It's like he's teasing you again but this time not on purpose, the leaking head of his cock bobbing closer and then away from you. 

While you normally admire his talents at getting perfect, incredible shots on the first take, the purpose of BeReal was authentic pictures within the randomly selected global, two-minute time slot. Mingyu's pride was always on the line for some reason (probably a stupid bet between the boys). Only one snapshot and never a second late but at this point, all you cared about and wanted was some action. 

You're aware of how turned on he already is, watching the occasional veined palm rubbing against the growing bulge in his boxers. Stroking at it in the same motions as the vibrator he'd teased you with. A new set-up like this excited him (and you), evident by the dark wet stain where the tip of his cock strains against the fabric of his underwear. 

So, when he draws closer again, you lunge forward almost losing your balance but that just works to your advantage as you practically swallow and then choke around his goshdarn dick. Incredibly adept from tons and tons of practice, size training, and testing with his large package pays off, working to your advantage without an insane amount of prep work.

Mingyu lets out a hiss, a crazed look of insanity mixed with lust, affection, and wonder swimming in his narrowed eyes. He runs his hands through the sweaty black bangs strewn across his forehead, meeting your pleading tear-filled gaze with a huff.

"What, does my baby think she can make me cum quick enough?"

You answer him with your actions, rather than wasting words because your mouth is stuffed full of cock anyways. Though it doesn't stop the filthy gags as you take him boldly down the throat, bobbing and nodding your head in what end up looking like successive 'yes' motions, intent on pushing him over that edge. 

"Yeah, just like the pretty whore she is."

And as Mingyu's pretty little whore, you know exactly what makes him tick — or cum, for that matter. 

Stilling your head and swallowing around him several times before you have to back off for air. Not leaving him unattended for too long, you start nuzzling the underside of his cock as you catch your breath. Licking between his balls and mouthing each one with some special attention to make up for the lacking use of your hands. Following the prominent vein that leads all the way up to his swollen tip, collecting salty excesses of precum with a promised swirl of your tongue.

Rinse and repeat.

You make a point to meet his gaze every time his eyes flutter open with the most babygirlism look you can attempt with a cock in your mouth. Not that it's too difficult to achieve with how much you want him to give into you. 

"Desperate little slut, you want me to feed you my cum, don'tcha?"

Despite his words, Mingyu's already shaking after only three smooth rounds of your perfect little mouth routine. Teasing, tiny variations and switch-ups to keep him guessing with that one brain cell that's deteriorating. His resolve, especially when it comes to you, is terribly weak and crumbling by the nanosecond. It doesn't matter how defined his six-pack is as it ripples with each shuddering intake of air he breathes in or those toned arms that twitch, bulging and flexing as he tries not to break the phone in one hand or rip out strands of hair with the other. 

Even his thighs are trembling like a newborn lamb. Oh, how you wish you could place your hands against them but watching the muscles ripple in front of your eyes is rewarding enough. Although, your neglected pussy aches and you can't help but lightly grind against the back of your own shins searching for some semblance of relief.

And when he takes notice of what you're doing, that alone is enough to tip Mingyu over the edge. You know it before he does.

"Gonna… god, gonna give it to you, pretty baby. Fill up that dirty mouth of yours."

The low and guttural moan of pleasure turns into a pathetic whine full of frustration because you completely abandon his cock. Leaning back and away, you watch with thirstful glee at the way it bobs up and down, a shining mess from precum and your spit. 

But little spurts of white pool out of his tip, a painfully slow and almost stilted release because of the sudden departure of your warm mouth. He growls your name and swears when all you do is lick your lips with a smirk like a cat that was asked if it ate the missing canary.

"Revenge," you manage to croak out with a sore throat.

"Revenge, my ass."

Mingyu can't complain all that much given what tortures he'd put you through earlier but that doesn't hide the cute little frowning pout on his handsome face. He has enough wherewithal to re-aim his phone with his thumb poised over the shutter-release button. Predicting what you want as you lean in once more, tongue hanging back out as you bat your eyelashes up at the camera and incidentally — at him.

He can't help but curse you out a bit like you always do at him when the situation was switched. Muttering the filthiest, most derogatory rambles that have the empty walls of your cunt fluttering as he furiously rubs his aching cock with a large hand that barely diminishes either's size.

Finally, the successive ropes of white you've been waiting for spurt out, painting your face and landing on your tongue just as you like it. And you grin salaciously at the click of the lenses capturing the depraved image. Not just of you tied up on your knees, hands behind your back, lips swollen, and pretty face covered in splatters of white but the front camera catches Mingyu — albeit, pretty blurrily — throwing his head back and biting his lip as he cums.

And within seconds of the timer running out, he presses 'post'. Tossing the phone on the bed and pushing you down, the side of your body hits the bouncy mattress at the same time the inanimate object does. Mingyu easily loosens the ties and knots with a surprising amount of vigor despite his harsh panting, a wild look in his eyes. The vibrator that's still buzzing is increased one intensity level and you shudder in anticipation.

"You were saying something about revenge?" he questions with snark, lifting your thigh with his free hand, the toy coming closer to your dripping center — far away enough that it's not even close to touching you and yet you can still feel the powerful vibrations at a distance buzzing through the airwaves. "Where's that cute confidence now? Just opening your legs like the desperate whore you always are, hm?"

He spends the rest of his time working you consistently up to that precipice before dropping you like an elevator without its wires, unable to crash over that peak of pleasure. As if he hadn't done it earlier.

Again and again, with his fingers and that stupid vibrator until his cock has sprung back to life (in reality, isn't too long and yet it feels like forever). And then you're screaming, creaming, squirting, crying, and cumming over and over. Making a complete mess as he pounds your poor weeping pussy until you nearly black out, the both of you ignoring (or not even noticing) the hundreds of notifications lighting up Mingyu's phone.

*the8thwonder used RealMoji, :hao_disgusted:*

cherrycheol: well damn wish i could take back the time i just spent wondering what was keeping him from being the first to post 🤦

> gam3rbo1: u know gyu will do it w/o fail

> joshuahhhhhh: leave it to him to not miss a moment no matter what he's up to 🥴

*tangerineboos used RealMoji, :mingyu_is_loser:*

tangerineboos: can i report them??

> tangerineboos: their account IS private right?

> jeonghangel: why report she's pretty 🥵💦

> jeonghangel: altho i'd prefer NOT to see gyu's nutting face

> jeonghangel: THAT'S reportable 😒

> gam3rbo1: gyu might hit u jeonghan

> jeonghangel: 🤷 im into that

> tangerineboos: 🤢🤕 i'd prefer not to see at all 

> black3y3: i could help u w/that 👍

> black3y3: isn't that how his gf's acct got banned 

> dinostar: yes i reported her bc i thought her acct got hacked

> dinostar: turns out they just wanted to share their porn but forgot they were public 😃

*w00z1 used RealMoji, :jihoon_disapproves_15:*

realtiger: i thought pussies were banned

> junhehe: technically no pussy is seen

> realtiger: 🧐 SORRY i wasn't looking that close 

> tangerineboos: does hoshi even know where or what the pussy is 😂🫵

> realtiger: yeah man there's 1 in wonwoo's moment as usual 🙄💀

> gam3rbo1: pls don't bring matilda into this her fur is too shiny for ur greasiness

> junhehe: 🫰 matilda deserves the world 

> gam3rbo1: dni if ur not a matilda stan or jun ❌

> tangerineboos: yeah geez hoshi if miss tilda is a pussy wouldn't that make you one too 🤡🫵

> gam3rbo1: 🤨 i just said dni

> realtiger: lies and false slander i'm a tiger

> tangeringeboos: 🥊exactly. ur a pussy lolol

> realtiger: brb gonna go fight boo 👊

cherrycheol: ^ they won't be missed

> gam3rbo1: ditto

> joshuahhhhhh: at least seok hasn't posted or my eardrums would be bleeding

> dk21897: ummmmmmmmmmmmmm

> gam3rbo1: ope

> jeonghangel: speak of the devil and he shall appear

> joshuahhhhhh: 😮‍💨 no somehow the pizza he quick ubered just arrived

> dk21897: 😭😭😭😭😭😭 it was late so I had to wait!

> junhehe: isn't bereal supposed to be authentic??????????????????

 > dk21897: why are you judging me when gyu is tying up his gf

 > dk21897: shoot i can't @ her acct

 > dk21897: BLINK TWICE IF U NEED HELP

> joshuahhhhhh: these noise canceling earbuds work wonders 10/10 rec

> jeonghangel: im sure she's just fine 🥴

 > dk21897: TMI

> jeonghangel: 🤷 u asked

By the time the boys have worked out their back-and-forth commentaries, you're laying in Mingyu's arms as he scrolls, occasionally showing you what they've said. Half-asleep, you snort, "Should we thank Hao for the help?"

"I mean we could, but he'll deny it all."

He does, of course, since it's a public announcement — and criticizes how Mingyu had tied the knots from what he can see. But he kindly sends a new resource PDF the next day, a sarcastic warning attached to keep such things private if the two of you don't want to be judged on your technique.

onlyseokmins: March 2023 ©

[jiminrings]

four seven eight (3)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: now that your month-long break’s over, you’re supposed to come home to jungkook at eight in the morning, right before he wakes up — it’s been two hours now, why are you still not home?

alternatively, jungkook will fight with you even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ fluff, full-fledged redemption arc I Swear, some angst, jealous jk, so much longing, references to anxiety, suggestive themes n flirting, everything gets sorted out, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex ]

notes: it’s the finale now can u believe :O thank u for staying tuned for the past two weeks — i sincerely cherish each one of u who’s ever interacted with 478 and took the time to be with me throughout the whole thing!! i’ll be taking a lil break this summer btw see u on the next fic <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

The mornings are too long for Jungkook.

They’ve been too long since your break started, dragging out endlessly that he’s just started to close the curtains to not be reminded that the sunset’s still hours away before it fades into night. Mornings were too bright; too intimate to be spent by himself. When you leave for work, you already leave before sunrise, but that’s still morning in your husband’s head.

Jungkook misses his mornings with you.

He misses the mornings where it’s still dark out and he’s been asleep enough for long that he could make out your figure in the dark, either buried to his arm or to his pillow despite the huge expanse of your bed. Mornings nowadays were only reminders for him that he didn’t overthink nor cry himself to the point of passing out from the night before.

He longs for the mornings where his alarm rings before yours and he fumbles to get up immediately, actually excited to wake up for the day. The routine starts with him kissing you on the cheek as silently as he could before replacing himself with a pillow so you could still embrace something while you’re asleep, navigating the dark without turning the lights on so you wouldn’t wake up. The next thing he does is prepare you your breakfast, and if you want to savor in all your sleep and just squeeze in a quick shower, he’s just as ready to pack your meal for you to eat on the go.

The evenings are just as hard but they’re not as long as mornings. If Jungkook spends his nights regretting, then he spends his mornings longing. Reliving his guilt is just as draining the way Jungkook feels like his stomach’s sinking to the floor, but especially during evenings, the guilt is what reminds him that he’s learning. 

Longing feels way worse.

Longing feels worse especially during mornings because unlike guilt, it’s formless. It’s fluid enough that it doesn’t make Jungkook cry point-blank nor feel the urge to smack himself in the head for being stupid. It’s listless and repetitive, sneaking into every thought he could form during sunlight. It’s worse than guilt because unlike the bile that rises to his throat, longing is the absence of it. His yearning is what reminds him of who he’s missing.

Even the cat knows who’s missing.

“Miso,” Jungkook hums to your pet that’s the only one who’s been keeping him company these days, the chunky mass of fur not exactly having a choice. 

She’s gotten warmer to him when usually her kindness would only be reserved for you. The more bitchy, devious side of her rescinding from the amount of undivided attention Jungkook gives her now. He’s been teaching her tricks — practical, useful tricks.

“If you ever see this man with mommy,” Jungkook hums, showing Miso a picture of Yoongi on his phone. He interrupts himself with a thought, smiling to why he didn’t think of the correction earlier. “Or y’know what? Even if you just see this man, I need you to scratch him, okay?”

Jungkook scratches her chin to get her to look at him, repeating his words again while humming to retain the information on her tiny brain. Mornings are more survivable this way, even if he’s spent the entirety of the past week’s mornings teaching Miso tricks. So far, she knows how to sit, roll around, and jump kick the door to close it.

Hopefully, she also learns the petty trick of hunting Yoongi in the event that she sees him.

Jungkook hums in satisfaction while he gets Miso’s toy, seeing her ears twitch in anticipation. He establishes your co-star’s name (he’s too caught up to even acknowledge him as your friend) to her so not only would she know what he looks like, but also know who is he. “Here, Miso. Practice on this. Pretend that this rat is Yoongi.”

The thought that crosses Jungkook’s mind recently these days is that he doesn’t even know what exactly to feel about Yoongi. He knows him, sure, but only in the same degree that he vaguely knows everyone his wife’s associated to somehow. He knew of him both as an actor and as your acquaintance back then, but just like with everyone else, Jungkook didn’t ask about him. He didn’t ask you all that much about him because there’s no reason to, his trust paramount enough that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Yoongi had a thing for you. 

Maybe it’s his fault, Jungkook thinks. Maybe it’s no one’s fault at all because to think of it, he can’t blame Yoongi either. 

You’re lovable. Extremely and undoubtedly lovable wherever you go, but the thing is, it isn’t your fault either. Jungkook thinks that perhaps you don’t even know just how admirable you are, the realization sinking into him sometimes that out of all people, it’s him whom you love.

Yoongi’s undeserving of his anger but Jungkook doesn’t know where else to put it, the abundance of it overflowing on himself that even if he knows how wrong it is, he pins it to your friend for the meantime.

In the same vein, Sora’s undeserving of your anger too. She isn’t responsible for any of your insecurities because in the first place, she didn’t even know about the concept of you initially. 

Even though both Sora and Yoongi are pillars of your past, the latter continues to be in your present and it’s something Jungkook has to learn to grow accustomed to. Sora’s an ex, Yoongi isn’t. He’s harmless as an almost-your-lover could come, being your best friend at the most with no malice behind his warmth. He’s not responsible either for Jungkook’s insecurities — at the end of the day, it boils down between you and your husband.

You quickly realize that your month apart with Jungkook shouldn’t only remain stagnant. He’s trying and so should you, his pride nowhere to be found nowadays that it’s slightly painful to watch. You’re not devoid of faults entirely, the need to make things right with him from your side of the plate becoming more and more apparent each day.

You’re not even one full ring in until Jungkook immediately answers, his habit of keeping his phone with him at all times paying off now that you called him first.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you hum, trying to swallow down your nervousness. You’re stalling with conversation but he doesn’t need to know that. “Are you free this weekend? It’s the last day of renovation at the shop and my parents want us there.”

“Of course I’m free,” Jungkook answers instantly, furrowing his brows in confusion. He doesn’t even know why you’re asking at this point, the both of you knowing he hasn’t denied the offer once. “I’m a househusband, y’know? Your husband. Why wouldn’t I be there?”

He’s not hurt at your doubt for him but what he feels is close enough, akin to the confusion of why you’re silent.

“Dunno,” you clear your throat, playing with the fraying ends of your throw blanket that you’ve been anxiously taking apart since you started staying in your house. “Thought you were busy.”

“I’m busy missing you if that wasn’t established enough.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you there,” your throat clears at your husband’s deadpanning, sensing that he’s not playing around at the moment with his moment. 

Jungkook sighs, letting go of the hurt that comes with your unsureness of his presence just seconds ago. He speaks more lightly this time, a chuckle leaving him. “Should I tell them you slept in? Or do I think of another excuse why we aren’t coming together in one car?”

“Just surprise me, I’ll act along with it,” you sigh in relief at the absence of hostility, rubbing your eyes in thought.

You think of how it would go — if Jungkook’s eyes would light up again once you enter the shop, or if he would kiss your cheek again to greet you in front of your parents. You wonder if he’ll hold you again this time, slinging a warm hand on your waist that’ll make you instinctively lean into him.

Jungkook wonders how he’ll approach you this time — if your eyes would widen when he kisses your cheek tenderly, or if you would notice how he breathes in your perfume that lingers in your hair. He wonders if you’ll reciprocate his affection and put a hand on his waist, enough to make a man like him soften in your hold.

Suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t mind that much anymore that the two of you would come to the shop separately, all if it would mean that he’d get to hold you again just like last time.

There’s a silence that lingers, one that’s peaceful for Jungkook yet loaded for you. You’re deflecting without even trying to, clearing your throat to get rid of the lump that comes with the urge to say what you really needed to. “Also, my parents want Miso to be there too. Do you think you can take her with you? What’s she up to?”

Your parents do miss Miso but not to the point that they’ve outright asked if you could take her with you, hoping that your impromptu plan of dragging their name along for the sake of making conversation with Jungkook doesn’t bite you in the ass later on.

“I can take her, no problem. She’s gotten close to me,” Jungkook hums, getting a loud meow right on time when she returns the toy rat to his palm and you pick up on it.

“Is that her? What’s she doing now?”

“Nothing much, I’m just teaching her how to hunt.”

“But cats already are hunters.”

“Yeah, but I’m teaching her how to hunt a specific person,” Jungkook mumbles in the same time your courage finally gets filled to the brim in your head, the go signal loudly beeping to make you cut to the chase.

“Jungkook, I need to tell you-” your focus is momentarily interrupted, his words belatedly sinking into your head. “Did you just say person?”

“Nothing. I said nothing. What were you going to say?”

Jungkook dismisses your worries even if what he said only slightly bothered you, eagerly waiting for your words. You wait for yourself even with bated breath, wanting to get this over with.

You count to three in your head, screwing your eyes shut. Now wasn’t the time to deflect; not the time for your roles with Jungkook to switch because you could feel that you were being passive while he was being proactive. If Jungkook’s trying, then you need to try too.

“I just wanted to tell you about the episode that’s dropping tomorrow,” you finally say, tugging harshly at a particular thread that it digs into your fingers. “Yoongi and I kiss.”

It’s normal. You’re no stranger to kissing scenes considering that it’s a part of your job. You’ve done it as a minor character already, even when you and Jungkook were still dating and not yet married. You tell him about your acting scenes in passing, especially some that required you to be affectionate and intimate to a certain degree.

Jungkook understands, he should understand. Acting’s your passion and your actual job, one that kept you going. He’s merely a husband at home who’s unconnected to your job and therefore should understand that sometimes, his wife needs to kiss someone else who isn’t him.

He knows he needs to understand that this time, you needed to kiss Yoongi, someone who was almost your lover; yet you don’t know of at the moment. He should grasp that his wife has a drama episode where she kisses Yoongi, one whom she’s linked to in a dating scandal.

Jungkook tries his best to understand but his comprehension doesn’t equate to ease, feeling the burn in his throat when he asks you.

“How many times?” he asks meekly, gnawing on his bottom lip and ignoring Miso for the meantime, the cat concerned because her owner simply just froze into the couch. “How many times do you need to kiss in the episode? In the whole series?”

“We haven’t wrapped up filming for the drama,” you admit, looking down on your lap in unease even if you can’t feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. “But this episode? I have uhm — Yoongi and I have four scenes.”

“And how many takes did it need?” Jungkook asks next, distancing the phone from him a little so you wouldn’t hear his heavy exhales. “It’s a drama, right? Surely there’s a hundred angles and rewinds on one kiss alone.”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking. He doesn’t know if he’s committing penance from wanting to know how many times his wife had to kiss her onscreen partner. He still asks even if he knows that whatever answer you’d give him, it would still sting. “Ten? More than ten?”

“I didn’t count, Jungkook,” you answer truthfully, rubbing your temple.

“Was it too many to count then?”

His retort comes out a little piqued, a little too sharp that it makes you sigh. Jungkook reminds himself to calm down and not think about you kissing Yoongi at all. To not think about you kissing and least of all, loving someone who isn’t him.

“Sorry. Thanks for giving me a heads-up,” he apologizes, the discomfort in his stomach slowly rising that he can’t stay seated. “Miso’s... Miso needs food now. She won’t stop meowing.”

There’s no meows at all. No urgent pawing from her that signified she wanted her food bowl to be filled.

The two of you both know that he just needs a little time; a little time to try and breathe. Jungkook urgently needs to get his mind off that he rushingly ends the call, not even waiting for a reply. “Thank you. Bye. I love you.”

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

He doesn’t know what to do, seeing you and Yoongi be intimate. He’s watched every episode of the drama so far and he could still swallow your dialogue with his character. He chuckles at the banter when you cuss him out. He smiles when the cinematography captures you the way his eyes do, through the lens of someone who loves you deeply.

He doesn’t know what he’d feel seeing you, along with a lot more people at this case, kiss Yoongi. He doesn’t know what to feel knowing that just like the vast majority of people and fans outside of your closest and most trusted family and friends, nobody knows that he’s your husband.

It’s hurtful but it’s needed, a reminder he engraves in his brain because this is what he initially thought he wanted for himself. Nowadays, he wants nothing more than everyone to know that he’s yours.

Jungkook reminds himself to breathe.

( ♡ )

All the lights are turned on. 

All the lights are turned on along with every other single discomfort Jungkook could think of that would take away the intimacy when tonight’s episode drops.

He gave Miso the loudest and most annoying toy she could ever play with, the tinkling of the bell inside the bouncy ball ringing almost every minute. He took a shower and barely dried off his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet to the cushions of the couch. Jungkook orchestrates everything to be at unease so he’d be distracted when the real unease comes, the tiny little inconveniences hopefully enough to cancel out what he’ll be seeing later.

“Can you stay on the call with me? I need you to tell me when it starts and when it ends,” Jungkook mumbles to his phone, the volume on loudspeaker so it would disrupt him too.

“You could just not watch the episode,” you sigh, offering the simplest and most effective solution to his current problem. You don’t even know why he’d willingly put himself through this, aware that the kissing scenes would do nothing to alleviate the matters of his heart and mind.

Jungkook snickers under his breath, dragging out his exhale when he explains his dilemma. He didn’t want to be selfish, unable to forego watching the episode just because he’s throwing a hissy fit over his wife’s job.

“I watch every episode to support you, though. Not everyone could say their wife’s on TV.”

Somehow, you get it. You could grasp Jungkook’s eagerness to support you by watching you do what you love most, and in the same time comprehend his aversion that doing what you love most somehow entails landing your commitment to kiss Yoongi.

You get it, you try your best to understand where Jungkook’s coming from but at this point, you’re merely a bystander to his worries. Neither are you there nor capable enough to do something about it. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. But I can’t — I can’t do anything about it, y’know? This is work,” you emphasize, hoping that the reminder of your job atleast helps the webbing that’s in his mind. “I can’t think of any romantic drama that doesn’t have a kissing scene in it.”

There’s the sinking feeling again in Jungkook’s stomach, one that tells him he’s asking too much from you despite barely verbalizing it at all. He feels selfish to the point that he’s even called you tonight even if he didn’t ask beforehand if it was okay, the reminder present that the two of you are on a break for a reason.

You don’t see him now but you could only imagine the conflict that manifests in his downturned lips, eyes beady and remaining shut while he tries to regain his bearings.

“Do you want me to turn on my video? So you could see me, if it helps,” you offer gently, not wanting to get ahead of yourself in the event that Jungkook can’t even stomach looking at you.

“It’ll help,” Jungkook instantly answers, shoulders slacking in relief when he sees you on his phone. He lets himself smily briefly, turning on his own video once he sees you settled in. He sets his phone (or rather you) on the coffee table, the angle turned upwards so you could see him resting into the couch.

If you notice the way that overhead lighting’s used instead of ambient lighting, despite the disuse of the latter gives him a headache, you don’t comment on it.

You don’t ask why Jungkook’s hair is sopping wet and why he’s wearing a hoodie that he hates because it made him itch and sweat. There’s no acknowledgement to why he’s wearing his old glasses instead of his new ones, because the ones he’s wearing at the moment are clunky and has an outdated prescription. 

In some odd reversal, you’ve become Jungkook during your break with him. You’re observant but you don’t act on it. You listen but you’re silent. You continue to notice everything and process it by yourself instead of doing the easier way of addressing him.

Jungkook’s become more like you — a little more talkative. He’s more obvious and readable nowadays, not one thought going unspoken. He comments continuously, babbling while the episode starts.

He giggles through the funny scenes and comments how you’d say something exactly like your character would in real life, absorbed into the show that he doesn’t even know you’re only looking at him.

You see every smile that forms in his face whenever you come into the frame, eyes twinkling when he sees that smile mirrored on the screen as if you could see him while you were filming the episode and knew he’d be watching. 

The video’s clear and although not comparable to what you’d see if you were face to face, you could see every detail and every thought that passes through your husband’s visage. You see the way his lips would purse whenever Yoongi’s character pursues you, mind going a little blank when he sees him reaching out for either your hand or your waist.

You see Jungkook through the first of it, when you hear the familiar score leading up to the first kissing scene of the episode and the entire series for that matter. He was on alert the whole time, but nothing could ever prepare him into seeing you look so deeply into Yoongi as if you’ve known him your whole life.

Nothing could prepare Jungkook into seeing Yoongi smile gently, securing his hand on your cheek when you giggle upon looking at him.

The musical score doesn’t help in the background because it’s of bells and a gentle uprising of the piano, the peak of it powerful enough that it convinces everyone watching that oh — this is probably what love looks like. You and Yoongi on the screen must be perfect enough to convince everyone who’s watching, and even Jungkook for a split second, that your love is what love should look like.

Jungkook’s unprepared when he sees you close your eyes the moment Yoongi leans into you gently, no resistance at all to the love that he gives. Yoongi’s portraying love, he must be, Jungkook thinks. Yoongi’s doing it so well that even he, your husband, is momentarily convinced that Yoongi knows how to love you the most from a kiss alone.

You see everything. You see Jungkook squirm when you press your lips harder to Yoongi’s to reciprocate his kiss, tilting your head to complement his movements so he could kiss you deeper. You see him anxiously play with his wedding band when the camera pans to your ring-less hand gently stroking Yoongi’s nape, your on-screen partner’s hand straying to the small of your back warmly.

There’s no prepared unease that could ever orient Jungkook because seeing you with Yoongi, someone who isn’t him, brings him the greatest discomfort of all. It’s heavy on his body, the trepidation crawling from the base of his skull all the way to the tips of his toes.

It eventually ends, yet it was only the first of four in the episode. The first of the many indefinite kisses he’s yet to see in the entirety of the series.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is what snaps him out of his reverie, rapidly blinking and genuinely confused when he feels that his cheeks are warm from all the tears he’s been unconsciously shedding throughout the scene.

“Yeah?” his voice croaks, reflecting the sinking feeling that ponders on his ribs.

“I love you.”

You say it gently, the first you’ve ever uttered for almost a whole month of not doing so. You didn’t plan on it and yet it’s already escaped you, unwilling to take it back either because it’s the truth.

“I love you more,” Jungkook smiles, genuine despite being tight-lipped because if he were to smile bigger, the tears would just pour.

“Please don’t cry,” you request, albeit weakly because you can’t find the fight in your voice. It’s unavoidable for him.

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook truthfully says, playing with his wedding band before the thought crosses his mind of what he’s been meaning to say. “I need to tell you something this weekend, by the way.”

“Can’t you say it now?” you hum, growing curious.

“Not really, it’d be better if I say it to you in person.” 

Jungkook rewinds his memory of learning from Jimin that Yoongi was so close to being the love of your life, narrowly being beaten by a day. It still hasn’t sunk in completely that it makes Jungkook snicker at thought, having to shake his head to try and get rid of it. “Just thinking about it makes me want to run into oncoming traffic.”

“Is it that bad?” you chuckle, figuring the extent of it now that Jungkook’s joking about it but simultaneously looks devastated.

“For me, yeah,” he answers without a doubt, trailing when he tries to consider your side. He’s not sure, the uncertainty of your reaction almost winding him breathless. “For you… I don’t know.”

Jungkook’s trying to tell you everything and so would you, attempting to bare it all no matter the initial unease it brings. 

“I wanted to say something to you too,” you clear your throat, rethinking the night at the club that Yoongi admitted he has a crush on you.

“Is it worse than what I have to say?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at the screen with a hope you can’t distinguish.

“I can’t tell either.”

Jungkook nods but it’s apparent that neither of you could leave the conversation at that, a little antsy to know something yet not everything at this time of night.

“How about we say a keyword each?” he pipes in, the suggestion being more than welcome. “That way, we’re not entirely clueless before we see each other this weekend.”

“That could work,” you try to say nonchalantly, attempting to disguise your curiosity into relaxation yet you can’t do it anyway. “One, two, three.”

“Yoongi.”

“Yoongi.”

“That fucking guy,” Jungkook humorlessly chuckles, shaking his head once it sinks into him that Yoongi happens to be the common denominator of the things you wanted to admit to each other. It’s not lost on him that Yoongi just happens to be a variable, but the more irrational part of his brain is what makes him angry at the guy.

“We have different things to say that somehow involves Yoongi too, hm?” you ask despite knowing the answer, seeing your husband suck in a harsh inhale.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes when his face appears in his sight for a second. “Yoongi that fucking rat.”

Jungkook utters your friend’s name with such venom that it wakes Miso up, the ball of fluff previously asleep in the corner of the living room yet came to life as soon as she heard rat and Yoongi in the same sentence.

Miso suddenly speeds into the couch on high alert, tail puffed up as she runs and sits next to Jungkook, obviously in a panic and on the lookout. It happens so fast that your husband barely even registers it until you ask in a hurry.

“Why’s Miso angry?”

The realization clicks in Jungkook’s head soon enough, the moment becoming the peak of the lessons he’s taught the cat every morning for the past week. “I taught her. Watch.”

“Miso,” Jungkook drawls, scratching her chin before pointing to the screen. “Who’s that? Isn’t that Yoongi?”

Like clockwork, Miso leaps to the TV from a sprint and bounces off of it, the force enough to rock it backwards but not enough to take it out of its mount, thankfully not shattering the screen. Jungkook’s caught it in video, the back camera capturing his proud moment as a (cat)dad.

“Jungkook!” you yelp when you look at the TV, the video once again returning to his face because he realizes now that you don’t need to look at the exact aftermath of Miso’s party trick. “What did you teach our cat?”

“I taught her how to hunt,” he huffs as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Don’t look at me like that. I have to cope somehow,” he adds, “plus you know Miso. She doesn’t really engage with things she isn’t passionate about.”

It’s true; just like the twenty toys you buy but two of them only stick. When you bought her a cat tower, the box that it came with is what she became fixated on. Even getting used to the baby blue floor couch was a struggle because at the first month of the furniture inhabiting your living room, Miso used to hiss at it simply because she hated it. She became passionate about it soon enough when she figured that the stream of sunlight is perfect for her midday naps.

“What’s that, Miso?” Jungkook gasps now that Miso’s back to him, sat on his lap as she tilts her head on you curiously at the screen. He lends her his ear and just in time does she peer at Jungkook, making it seem like they were gossiping; the sight’s too warm you can’t help but to screenshot. “You don’t like mommy kissing other guys?”

The sudden skit that unfolds catches you off-guard, warranting a surprised cackle from your lips that makes Jungkook crack up.

“That kissing scene alone can buy you five years’ worth of cat food, Miso.”

“What was that, baby?” Jungkook gasps once again, brows furrowed as he stares down Miso who’s definitely not talking. “You’d rather starve than see mommy kissing that guy again?!”

“Miso’s new trick is to talk?” you pipe in when Jungkook doesn’t let the act go, tilting your head. You playfully chuckle, raising your eyebrows at him. “Are you jealous? Is that it?” 

“Amongst other deprecating things, believe me,” he mumbles, resorting to cradling Miso in his arms like a baby. “I just admitted to teaching our cat to attack Yoongi on command. I’m not exactly hiding that I’m jealous.”

“Jungkook,” you hum with the intention of reminding him something, the switch of tone evident that it makes him alert.

“Yeah, baby?” he sighs, running his hand through his hair while he looks at you.

It’s not lost on you that Jungkook called you an endearment other than your name, and yet you try to swallow down your reaction, a tight-lipped smile replacing your previous laugh.

“You just sat through all four kissing scenes. That was the last of the episode.”

His eyes widen because he forgot that the episode was ongoing in the first place, gaze flitting to the screen as he realizes that true enough, the credits are even bound to roll soon. “Oh.”

The silence comes back and as much as you want to linger, you will yourself not to. “I’ll end the call here, alright?”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says, a grateful smile on his lips that you stayed throughout. “I love you,” he reminds. “I mean it.”

All you could give is a timid smile before you drop the call, sighing when you bury your face to the couch; your massive gray couch that is not the baby blue floor couch you have at home.

Jungkook doesn’t need to say the words but he does anyway, reminding you just how sincere he is when he says that he love you. He means it; you’ve always known. “I know you do.”

( ♡ )

The days leading to the end of the break are easier.

They’re easier in the sense that Jungkook can sleep for minutes at a time at night, granted if he had any sort of interaction with you that day. The days are easier as they pass but Jungkook doesn’t grow complacent, putting in the work whenever he could.

You’re positively confused (and a little worried) when you receive an email from Jungkook, a meeting link attached that starts at the exact moment he’s sent you it. You think for a second that he’s hacked because he barely even opens his email, but the signature of <3 jungkook at the bottom tells you that funnily enough, it is your husband.

You indulge him, even if you’re five minutes late from the time it took to fetch your laptop from your bedroom. Jungkook was starting to think you weren’t even gonna show but by the time you enter the meeting room, he’s the one who’s surprised by your sudden barrage of questions.

“You emailed me a link,” your brows furrow. “Is your phone not working? Should I buy you a new one?” you think out-loud but reel yourself in once you see Jungkook patiently waiting for his chance to speak. “I’m not opposed to talking to you virtually, Jungkook. Just… why a Zoom link?”

Jungkook never thought you’d ask, shrugging when you lead him right where he needs you to be. He says it like it’s obvious, as if you’ve been doing this everyday since you got married.

“Because we’re in a meeting,” he trails, retaining his gaze on the screen while he tries to discreetly prepare his slides in the background. “I’m presenting.”

You can’t be any more confused than you are now, having just gotten home from work at ten in the evening. You haven’t even showered yet, too puzzled with Jungkook emailing you that you couldn’t pas it up. “What? Presenting what?”

Once again, you give Jungkook the perfect opening because as soon as the last word leaves your mouth, the screen changes.

It’s a presentation with a very familiar color scheme, big bold letters right at the middle entitled “Why You Should Let Mr. Jeon Win This Time” —  the same animation for the text beyond recognizable. The subtext reads as “I’m still very sorry” — the background of the presentation being the very two things you’ve used this presentation for; the baby blue floor couch, and the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed.

A laugh leaves you even before you could conceal it, the surprise in your face evident with the way you’re covering your face. Jungkook himself laughs at your reaction, a welcome feeling now that he gets to try giving you a presentation of his own.

“Stealing from my book now, hm?” you hum, wiping the stray tears out of your eyes. “Be honest, you love the couch. You love the bed too!”

It’s a welcome moment; a needed moment between the two of you. Not everything’s fixed but you’re getting there with small baby steps, each one clearing out the miscommunication and lapses of judgement that landed the two of you here in the first place; even if it’s one presentation at a time.

“With you in it, duh. The couch is a nightmare to clean,” Jungkook groans, resting his face on his hand as he could see you happy by your tiny icon, the presentation he’s spent the entirety of last night over taking up his whole screen. “I need you in my bed to enjoy it.”

It’s perhaps a welcome moment too; perhaps not extremely vital to the situation, but still welcome nonetheless.

“I didn’t mean-“ Jungkook’s cheeks flush, pursing his lips to think of what excuse he could say for himself. He racks his brain for a second now that the two of you are just staring at each other from his accidental innuendo, ultimately concluding that there’s nothing. “Okay, fuck it. I do mean it in that way too.”

The unabashed admission is what gets you, an easy chuckle being squeezed out of you as you try to retain your eye contact with Jungkook who’s apparently very passionate in explaining.

“Once you come home, I’m gonna,” Jungkook grunts, his two hands up as he grasps the air and squeezes. “I’m really just gonna-…”

Your laugh is what reminds him that you’re still there, looking at him directly while he makes a fool out of himself by vaguely detailing just about what he means when you come home.

“You’re gonna what, babe?” you hum playfully, the endearment slipping right out of you. You realize belatedly but neither of you comment on it, letting the term linger in the air.

Jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard now, at a loss for words while he resorts to rolling his eyes playfully.

“You’ll see.”

Your husband jumps from one slide to another, taking his sweet time in explaining and expounding each one. There’s no script at all, obvious from the way he stutters and laughs between words.

The moment doesn’t last forever but it’s welcome, all the while worth it because by the time Jungkook reaches the last slide, the two of you feel considerably lighter than before.

“Our break ends one week from now,” Jungkook reminds you when your laughs die down, cheeks still a little pink from catching his breath from all the talking that he had to do.

You look a little more somber now, still admirable despite the exhaustion (and relief) you’ve went through today. 

“Come home to me, okay? Come home to me before I wake up.”

“You don’t sleep, though.” It’s your turn to remind him, voice more gentle than before.

“Yes I do,” he weakly argues, but there’s no point in telling the white lie.

“Okay no, not really. But since you’ve been calling me, I could doze for thirty minutes at a time.” 

It’s the first time you’ve heard of Jungkook’s improvement in sleeping without you, unsurprised that the genuine happiness in your features already translates to your husband who preens at your reaction.

“You’ve been gone for so long, do you even remember what time I wake up?” he asks harmlessly, no malice to his tone when he brings it up.

“When I’m with you, you wake up thirty minutes before I leave,” you squint in thought, sure of your answer because it’s a routine that’s stuck for quite some time.

“And when I’m not there-” you start yet you don’t know how to finish, eyes suddenly going blank because there’s no answer that comes to mind. “I don’t know.”

You try not to dwell about your lack for an answer — the reason either being you forgetting it or you not knowing at all. Nonetheless, you try to rectify your lack for an answer by immediately asking.

“What time do you wake — no, you don’t sleep. What time do you get out of bed when I’m not there?”

“Eight,” Jungkook answers. “I get out of bed at eight in the morning when you’re not there.”

He sees you take note of it in your head, your lips mumbling the time to yourself to internalize it without having to write it down.

“I’ll sleep the night before, I promise. I’ll sleep the entire night,” he adds if it means he could lessen your load of worry that you carry with you, trying to find more ways in sharing your burdens that concern him one way or another.

You nod, inarguably feeling lighter. 

“Okay.”

( ♡ )

Your parents don’t suspect a thing.

They don’t suspect a thing between you and Jungkook despite knowing the two of you, most especially you, very well. They didn’t think twice about the two of you arriving to the shop in your own cars because just like last time, Jungkook arrives earlier than you and explains why his wife, their daughter, is late.

There isn’t anything questionable about it. You being busy is clockwork by now and Jungkook being the filial son-in-law isn’t anything new.

What is new to them is Jungkook being a little more talkative.

It’s not as if he’s never talked to them when you aren’t by his side, but something was just different to the way he carries himself now. His shoulders are still relaxed but his hands don’t tuck themselves into his pockets, his fingers instead pointing around to ask them about something.

Jungkook seems more present in a way that you almost miss it. Your parents can’t pinpoint what it is exactly but if Jungkook was warm before, then he’s become even warmer now.

He talks more; more attentive as he notices your mother’s new earrings. He’s always figured that she has a penchant for changing up her jewelry but it’s only now that he comments on it, complimenting the dangling charms on her ears that makes her blush.

He laughs more, your father figures. Jungkook outsizes him in height but when he laughs, his shoulders hunch and his face scrunches brightly that they’re almost the same height. He jokes more with your dad nowadays, their banter and shoulder jabs more apparent that it would seem like he’s his actual child.

They just can’t put a finger on it because as much as Jungkook’s always been kind and warm, there’s something about him now that makes him shine a little brighter.

“Hi, baby,” Jungkook greets you the moment you enter the shop, wasting no time in slinging an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. He moves like he’s never seen you before, in fact meeting you by the door before you could even take two steps in and go about what he’s been yearning to do since last week.

“There you are,” he hums, smiling so hard that his eyes crescent when you roll your eyes before returning the kiss to his cheek. He lets his arm wrap around your shoulders, taking you closer to him. “You just really had the urge to deep-clean your couch at four in the morning, huh?”

The half-scoff that leaves your lips is more playful than it is offended, shaking your head when you play along. “Mhmm. Our couch, of course. I love that couch,” you exclaim, finally taking your eyes off him to acknowledge your parents who are watching your interaction unfold. “Takes you longer to clean and exhausts you more when your husband doesn’t help clean it.”

“Oh so now we’re just straight-up lying,” he hums, laughing before letting you go so you could hug your parents.

Your mom and dad can finally put a finger on it now — Jungkook’s just in love. He’s even more in love with you than the last time, the realization fitting just perfectly to the twinkle behind your husband’s eyes.

The shop hasn’t felt this warm to you until now.

Somehow, it’s even warmer than the times you’ve spent your childhood birthdays in here, perched on the counter with a different cake each time. Today’s warmer than that time before when you were excited to take your portraits to commemorate your coming-of-age, eager to brag to your family and friends. It’s warmer than when you came into the shop to announce you received your very first callback in your career; unable to wait for it to close that you ended up yelling the news the moment you came in, and despite not knowing anything besides that you were the daughter of the owners of the shop, everyone else cheered with you.

Now is warmer than the past. Now is warmer with Jungkook. 

It helps that your hearts are somehow lighter now because the last time the both of you were at the shop, it was merely the 15th day of your break — and here you are, undoubtedly blithe and easier together on the 28th day.

It’s a foundation that grows solid day by day, the space you’ve established giving more leeway for the two of you to grow and occupy it altogether once more when all faults are recognized.

You and Jungkook work through the motions of completing the renovation, teaming yourselves up with only small talk about the task at hand. The urge to talk to you quite literally shows in the way Jungkook’s eager to finish earlier, his keenness making you smile while you take your time.

It’s only after sunset when everything’s finished; when the second coats of paint are all fully-dried and the shelves are built, when all the furniture’s arranged and Jungkook’s successfully picked up every time-consuming task in the shop to wrap it up earlier.

Jungkook’s body physically burns from the labor but he’s not weary just yet, tugging you to the empty breakroom to catch his breath and finally talk.

“Can I go first?” you ask when Jungkook finally looks like he could blink without seeing darkness at the corners of his eyes, making him drink from your own cup.

Your husband nods eagerly, sitting himself closer to you on the floor because the two of you were too afraid to sit on the new sofa in fear of dirtying it.

It’s quiet like this; with the doors closed and no TV present to provide white noise, no Miso either who’d fill up the space with her presence. This moment alone with Jungkook is what reminds you that it’s been far too long since the two of you have gotten this intimate; this close to each other and this willing to talk.

The two of you are together now simply because you are; no longer in the context of you coming home late at night because of work, too tired to initiate conversation.

“When Yoongi and I were in the club, he admitted that he had a crush on me,” you start as gently as you could, thankful that you’re sitting beside Jungkook and not opposite of him so you wouldn’t feel obligated to look at him. “Had a crush on me back then when we were young, and he has a crush on me now.”

You don’t look at Jungkook because you don’t want to see him upset, but it’s only inevitable that you look at his hurt for you to understand his side completely. It’s not exactly an everyday occurrence to know that your wife’s co-worker, one whom she has to see practically everyday for months, has a crush on her.

“But I told him I was married and he understands, he’s not getting between us or anything like that,” you’re quick to amend, but not in the tone that you’re making it seem you’re on Yoongi’s side. “He told me just a few days ago that the crush he has now is nothing serious, by the way. It’s just the admiration from afar thing.”

Jungkook’s still silent but maybe it’s only like that in your head because you’re still gathering the courage to look at him, only doing so when he squeezes your knee.

“I just wanted to tell you that. It’d be wrong for me not to,” you say truthfully, unable to digest the guilt if you do otherwise. “I’m sorry. I never really got to apologize to you about the Yoongi thing.”

You’re not devoid of faults — you never are and never will be. 

“I know this whole dating scandal is hard on you too. Especially Jimin’s plan of not doing anything about it at all,” you chuckle, trying to grasp what you’d feel like if it’s Jungkook who was the celebrity and not you.

The scandals weren’t dying down, in fact they were only getting bigger in number given the new episodes, all of where Yoongi and you kissed and were significantly more affectionate. The two of you haven’t met outside since the article was released, meaning that anything from that point forward is purely made-up.

Jungkook won’t deny that he searches your name and Yoongi’s these days, scrolling through countless of comments. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s doing it either but after every scroll that just unknowingly adds to his own insecurity, Jungkook figures that his trust in you never faltered.

“It’s okay. I’m not upset over it,” your husband admits, having had the time to reevaluate all his initial anger over Yoongi when he saw the two of you at the club. “If I knew from someone else that you met up with your ex, I think I’d get a drink with an old friend too.” 

He puts things into perspective and the way he does it relieve you of all your residual guilt, realizing now that although not the best option, your response was only rational; a little confusing and a little flawed, sure, but never malicious.

“I don’t have an ex.” 

You smile in reminder that it makes Jungkook do the same, his intake of breath turning a little sharper when he realizes that you’re done with your side.

“It’s my turn to tell you then.”

This time it’s you who eagerly nods, oddly seeing yourself in Jungkook’s actions when he looks down the floor instead of you, a little nervous in saying the truth.

“Yoongi was supposed to ask you out back then.”

Jungkook says it as casually as he could, to not make it seem as serious as it actually was. He doesn’t know if he executed the bit perfectly but it warrants a reaction from you anyway, eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“I know. Jimin slipped about it,” Jungkook continues. “He brought it up casually because he told me that Yoongi told him, then he thought I knew about it because he assumed the two of us were friends.”

“When did you and Jimin even talk?” your eyes narrow in confusion. The last time you checked, Jimin was close to you (and Jungkook by extension) enough to attend your wedding, but not close enough for him and Jungkook to sustain a conversation by themselves.

“How were your meals?” Jungkook grins, dimples in full display while he watches the gears in your head turn. “Did they taste good? I hope they were still hot when you got them.”

“My meals? What — no,” you gasp when you realize, knowing that your suspicion over catering cooking your every favorite meal was too good to be true. “You were the one who made them?”

“Mhmm,” Jungkook proudly hums, feeling a burst of your pride when you lean your head on his shoulder giddily. “Then I got Jimin to deliver them to you personally so you wouldn’t question catering.”

“Cute,” you mumble, looking up at him from your spot on his shoulder. “Back to the Yoongi part?”

“Right, the Yoongi part,” Jungkook sighs, putting his arm around your shoulder while you held his hand. “Based from what you just said, maybe Yoongi didn’t just have a crush on you, y’know? He loved you enough that he planned to ask you out.”

“And get this,” Jungkook adds, a solemn look to his face when he almost whispers it to you as if it’s a secret. “I only beat him to it a day earlier.”

He watches you process it all, waiting for it to click in before he continues so he’d know you were on the same pace with him.

“I asked you on the 1st, right? Do you still remember the date, hm? I bet you don’t,” Jungkook teases, a welcome moment of playfulness from the nature of your conversation.

“Don’t test me,” you huff, crossing your arms in retort. “You asked me out on the first day of October,” you enunciate, not having to think about it twice. “In case you don’t remember, dummy, October 1st is also our wedding date.”

“Wow. My girl knows so much, hm?” Jungkook laughs heartily, throwing his head back when he resumes his hold on you while the two of you lean against the wall. “I asked you out on October 1, then that means Yoongi would’ve asked you out on October 2.”

It’s fate; narrow fate that would’ve been changed completely if only it wasn’t kind enough to favor Jungkook.

“I narrowly beat him by a day. It was almost not me,” he plays with his wedding band. “If I was just a day late, I don’t know if I’d even be here.”

“Yoongi was almost your first boyfriend, your first love,” he exhales heavily at the thought, smiling although it doesn’t exactly look the happiest. “Your first everything.”

It’s a thought that sinks into him every second the moment he’s learned of it, the alternate of what could’ve happened haunting him by the minute. Jungkook doesn’t even know if lucky was the right term to call it. Luck seemed too shallow to be in charge of a blessing as big as you. “I’m glad fate was on my side when it led me to you.”

“It’s hard to digest everything, I know,” Jungkook admits, because even he found it difficult trying to take everything at once. “I don’t know if I could wrap my head around it now, but I want to ask,” he swallows the lump in his throat, looking straight through you that you can’t find yourself avoiding his gaze. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“If I got the whole timing wrong and Yoongi asked you out first, would you have accepted?” your husband asks. “Would you have married him?” Jungkook asks one question after the other, the gravity of it still plaguing him even if he’s said it out-loud. “If it was him and not me, would you still be happy?”

It’s a question that rattles you to your core, all the way down to your bones that your fingers tingle and it’s your ring finger that feels like twitching. It’s a loaded question that only crossed Jungkook’s mind a hundred times before he sleeps, and it a question that’s only crossed your mind now.

“I wouldn’t know, Jungkook,” you whisper, a little winded. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook nods, swallowing the hurt.

He can’t blame you — he wouldn’t blame you. He’s not the only one hurting in this equation and it would be unfair of him to require you to give him an answer now; now when it’s apparent that you’re beyond shaken and your mind feels like it’s about to split open.

“Now stand up. Ring me up as the first and last customer of the day before I go home,” Jungkook urges you to stand up, leading you by your hand to place you behind the counter, and him to stand at the other side of it.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, barely coherent because one second, your husband’s asking you if it would still be him if Yoongi had only asked you out earlier, and now, he wants you to play cashier with him.

“I have an order, baby. Just stand behind the counter and let me pay.”

Jungkook explains gently, fetching his bag with him and pulls out a whole lunchbox filled with undeveloped film canisters, the same container where he’d put in all your snacks before you left for work.

You’re speechless as you look at the collection, neatly placed together but you know that there’s hundreds of pictures and memories in that single lunchbox alone, the fact that this is all coming from your husband making your mind blank.

“All of these, please. I’ve been collecting for awhile,” he says casually, pulling out his wallet.

“Jungkook,” you call, opening the lunchbox to see the canisters for yourself if they were real and not merely props. “Since when did this start?”

Your husband doesn’t answer, instead giving you the exact amount and peering over the counter because you’re still dazed, using your fingers to punch his order in. “You’ll know. I never turned off the timestamp.”

“Bye. I love you. Text me when you get to your house,” Jungkook bids you goodbye and it’s only then that you snap out momentarily, eyes beady from trying to process the last minutes alone. He leans in just a little, all to be able to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You stare when he exits the shop, watching him drive away until you could no longer see his car from the distance.

There’s no time you waste when all of the systems in your head tell you to develop your husband’s films now, not passing up a single second because it’s more of an instinct than an urge. You get to work immediately, having to fend off your parents that you’ll handle this alone and they could come home while you close off everything once you’re done. 

You get to the darkroom and do everything as quickly and as precisely as you could, seeing vague figures by the moment you hang each print to dry. It takes you the rest of the night until the early hours of morning to go through everything, greatly too impatient that you physically had to step out of the room while waiting.

It’s only when your timer goes off that you allow yourself to be in the same space with the pictures that your husband took through the years, eyes skimming over each one to look at the timestamp.

The very first picture, the very first one you processed that’s hung in the frontmost line in the darkroom dates back to October 1, five years ago — the very same day he asked you out.

The realization hits you deeply because the moment you step back, you see that every image, every composition in this darkroom of all the film pictures Jungkook has taken for the past five years, is you.

It’s pictures taken of you candidly, when you’re in mid-conversation and when your eyes are turned away from the camera. It’s images of you that are taken from afar, your silhouette turned to Jungkook and facing whatever’s in front of you instead, almost never making eye contact at all. There’s several where there’s mirrors involved and while Jungkook meant to capture your smile, he unintentionally captured his too while looking at you.

There’s pictures taken of you in your important milestones; in your wedding dress while Jungkook hung around in the back to see you getting prepared for the reception, and in bed when you’re wearing his shirt, reading the script for In Terms of Eternity’s pilot episode.

There’s mementos taken of you all over the place; ones where you’re in the driver’s seat and ones where you’re on your phone. There’s pictures of you fixing yourself in the mirror and pictures of you as you sleep, your head tucked to his neck and where half of Jungkook’s face is visible. Pictures of your hands with your wedding band worn and even pictures of you laughing, the shots itself being blurry because Jungkook laughs while you do.

Each one, all of them you.

It’s a definitive answer that you can say to Jungkook now, the question to whether or not it would still be him if Yoongi got the better slice of timing. You don’t know any other love like Jungkook’s and you’re content with it — you’re at peace knowing that Jungkook’s your first love, your first kiss, your first everything.

The answer’s clearer than ever when you see each picture that proved to you Jungkook’s love had never wavered nor faltered, no matter the distance nor the blurriness in his pictures.

It has always been, and always will be Jungkook. 

( ♡ )

You can’t move. 

Your body feels far too strained and exhausted to move, even attempting to raise your head makes you want to faint. It’s barely going well and you want to try so hard to leave your house and come home to Jungkook, but things simply were not on your side.

You already should’ve left at six in the morning and that was when you gathered your remaining strength that was left from your fever that developed drastically overnight. It was just the occasional headache and the nausea a few days ago, but figuring that you thought little of it and proceeded to work with filming until the late of the night, your sickness has gotten worse unsurprisingly.

You’re more than prepared, even packing back all your stuff into the luggage you came with and setting an alarm for you to drive home early. All you had to do was wake up and drive — and now that you’re barely coping with the first, your car won’t start. 

It won’t start no matter how much you try to remedy it by popping open your hood, unable to gauge what’s wrong because your fever’s getting the best of you and you could barely function. It was six in the morning when you trekked back to your bed and decided to take just a brief nap in hopes you’d get better.

But it’s already been four hours — it’s ten in the morning.

It’s two hours past eight and Jungkook’s been waiting for you for two hours, unable to hold it all in when it turned seven in the morning and you still weren’t there.

Jungkook’s hurt and cries his heart out because he’s slept for this, hoped for this. He didn’t know how to react when he opens his eyes at eight in the morning to not see you beside him. Jungkook’s hurt, beyond hurt to the point of speaking but he stands up immediately with a newfound drive.

He won’t settle for this. He’ll fight you on this.

Jungkook takes his key to your house and wastes no time in jamming it into your front door, vision blurry still because he drove all the way here while barely coherent. He marches up the stairs, failing to see your luggage that’s already near the front door, all that’s left for you to do was to load it in your trunk and go home to him.

Your husband storms to your room and throws the door open, voice cracking to see you still underneath the comforter.

“Get up.”

He sees you rumbling from underneath it but you don’t talk, only making him more distraught that he comes closer to the foot of your bed.

“Get up from bed right now because we’re going to fight.”

He’s no longer your husband who didn’t want to fight you on things for the sake of self-preservation. He’s no longer the one who avoided confrontation in fear of setting you apart from him because this is what he gets from being so passive — from being so unwilling to fight you.

“We’re going to fight right now because I don’t want you to break up with me,” he grits through tears, shaking your foot at the end of the bed. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Your movements from underneath the comforter are more apparent but you still don’t get up, springing Jungkook into walking to your side of the bed where your head laid.

“Get up, Y/N. I’m not kidding,” Jungkook tears up, only to shake you awake by your shoulder but he feels the abnormal warmth of it before he could even speak, the realization settling in.

“Can we fight tomorrow?” you ask in a small voice, turning over to look at Jungkook who’s been crying. “My head feels like it’s splitting open.”

“You’re sick,” Jungkook exclaims, half in worry yet half in relief because it’s the only reason to why you didn’t come home to him before hoke up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He was worried, beyond out of his mind that the first thing he does now is get underneath the covers with you, embracing you tightly. You feel it too, feeling apologetic that you were late but what’s important now is that Jungkook’s here with you, fully aware that you have no intention of leaving him.

“I was gonna come back home, trust me. My bags were all prepared,” you mumble to his neck, your husband immediately cradling your face to it as he hushes you to not strain your voice and explain. “I really was! But then my car wouldn’t start, and when I woke up this morning, I was sick.”

“I know. I know now. It’s okay, baby. I understand,” Jungkook says gently, rocking you back and forth and only thinking of now, choosing to plan later on how he’ll nurse you back to health and eventually take you home to where you belong.

“Were you serious awhile ago?” you ask while your face is still buried to his chest, your husband unwilling to ease up because he’s missed you beyond words. “Would you really have fought with me if I didn’t come back?”

“Of course. I won’t let you break up with me until I lose my fight with you,” Jungkook answers without skipping a beat. “I’m not letting you break up with me until I know I’ve exhausted every possible way for you not to.”

“I never plan on breaking up with you,” you snort, the sudden reply making you wince because your head ached from it. You get the teasing, lightest ever possible forehead flick you could ever receive in your life, your husband hushing you to just stop talking.

“Jungkook?” you hum, making him open his eyes because they were closed from how at peace he is just by being with you. “I have an answer.”

“Answer to what?” your husband’s brows furrow, a slight pout on his lips because he can’t decipher what you’re pertaining to.

“When you basically asked me if it would still be you if you got the timing wrong and everything,” you trail, the realization finally crossing him.

You think back on all the pictures Jungkook’s taken of you, several of the many manifestations of his love for you. He hums, raising an eyebrow with a curious smile on his lips. 

The words didn’t need to be said at this point because it’s an unspoken truth anyway, but with all your heart and experience of loving Jungkook, sometimes, saying the obvious wouldn’t hurt.

“The answer’s you,” you smile, warm hand finding his to flick at his wedding band. “It’s always you.”

.

.

.

.

.

EPILOGUE

In Terms of Eternity turned out to be a massive success that just two years later, it’s been announced to have a sequel.

Everyone’s happy with it, you yourself in a great shock over it too because you got bigger than you could ever imagine — and in the peak of it, you get to wear your wedding band to work.

The entirety of the people responsible for the drama’s in your home, one that’s a house outside of the city and not an apartment in the heart of it. It’s rightfully massive, just enough to fit everyone who’s ever contributed to the success of it.

The house was built from the ground up instead of bought, each single centimeter of space being carefully planned by you and Jungkook together. It’s new, but it’s a beautiful, exciting kind of new — one that didn’t need everything to be replaced and instead housed some of the old; just like the baby blue floor couch and the third-biggest variation of the king-sized bed that are your clear favorites.

Countless presentations have been made of letting the other win, all varying from Jungkook’s requests of having a game room and a den to your plea of commissioning to have an obscenely large painting of your choice to put in the house.

It’s a matter of yielding and loving, all of it that made this space the home of your dreams with your husband.

“Scotch for you,” Yoongi greets from nowhere as he squeezes in himself between you and Jungkook, giving the drink to your husband who surprisingly, clicked with him and is now his best friend.

He’s just about to say his next words when he sees Miso from the corner of the living room, coming to hide slightly behind Jungkook even if the cat makes no move. “God, she scares me. Did either of you ever know why she’s tried killing me multiple times already?”

“Nope. Not a single clue,” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head while he pokes a tongue to his cheek.

Yoongi lets it go, grinning as he holds your drink up. “And gin for you.”

Your mouth dries before you could even push the drink away from you, your husband already stepping in.

“Mhmm, no. No gin for my wife,” he hums, taking the glass instead to pour it into his throat all in one go. 

“But you love gin!” Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion, offering you his glass of gin instead that he hasn’t sipped out of.

“I do, but I really can’t, Yoongi,” you smile, biting your lip tentatively when you raise your eyebrows at him.

You wait for a beat for your best friend to comprehend but he still doesn’t, reminding you that he could be a bit slow sometimes.

Jungkook can’t take it either that he just laughs, taking you closer to him by the waist and puts you in front of him, announcing the news in a low voice with a warm hand on your stomach.

“We’re expecting.”

[hanasnx]

green in the eye

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 0.6k SUMMARY: jealousy causes anakin’s spite to reveal itself to those you toy with. NOTES: mostly a conversation between you and hunter, and then anakin and hunter. very lightly smutty. this piece was a warm up, and i think ill write a follow up to it some other time, this was honestly kind of a prequel to a bigger project later on that i havent figured out how to make work yet. but hey if you like it and want more lmk :) jealous ani is my fave WARNINGS: anakin x reader x hunter | you flirting with hunter | anakin being an asshole | no actual smut, no implied smut either, just adult conversations ab sex ig | rex trying to help | wrecker and hunter checking out your ass | established fwb relationship with anakin | commander!reader

It was in your nature to flirt. It wasn’t like you were exclusive with your General ANAKIN SKYWALKER. Regardless of that fact, it seemed as though he encouraged faithfulness, but would refuse to explain why he expected it. It pissed you off to no end, especially because you observed how Anakin always got what he wanted, and you weren’t just going to roll over for him. Warming your bed was a privilege, not a right, and treating it so carelessly only pushed you further away. 

Working with both Anakin and Clone Force 99 killed two birds with one stone. 

“I like your tattoo. Got any more?” you asked HUNTER, your current object of fascination. Generously, you scanned him, noting how well he fit into his uniform. How it glinted in the warmth of the bonfire. 

Hunter didn’t seem to register your flirt yet, and answered honestly while he sharpened his knife. “Yeah, underneath all this armor.” If only he stopped to process it a second longer, he would’ve realized how invitational he came off. 

“Oh,” you replied, intrigued, as you bit your bottom lip. At the words, Hunter’s eyes curiously swept over to meet your sultry gaze, sharpening slowing to a halt. “Maybe you can show me sometime.” Your tone betrayed the context you referred to. Hunter gulped. It’s not often he’s spoken to so forward. He liked it. Perhaps a little too much. 

Shyly nodding, he held your eye contact, and returned to his work once he realized how public this conversation was. His bashfulness only made you smile, kicking him playfully with the side of your foot and a light blush dusted his cheeks. 

Anakin grit his teeth, a few feet from the fire. He’d held up his hand to Rex to signal his silence so the General could listen in, having heard your shameless flirting. Rex furrowed his brows at Anakin sticking his nose into something he shouldn’t, following when Anakin trekked over to sit near Hunter. 

As casual as ever— even while knowing full well the jealous nature of Anakin Skywalker— you sighed. “I’ll go grab more firewood. We’re close to running out.” Picking yourself up, dusting your hands off, you passed by the two men. Despite their fronts facing the fire, their backs burned from the remnants of your presence as you walked by them. “Wrecker, with me. I’ll need your help to carry.” 

“You got it, Commander!” he said enthusiastically as he trailed behind you. Unbeknownst to you, both Wrecker and Hunter watched your hips sway. Anakin kept his suspicious eyes on the pair until you were out of view. When Hunter noticed how unwavering the General’s gaze on him was, he cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence. 

“She’s trouble.” he scoffed, the scrape of his stone against his knife filling the air with white noise. 

“More trouble than she’s worth, I can assure you.” Anakin spoke from experience, but he didn’t realize how obvious he just made that secret. Hunter’s head tilted from the minute discovery, narrowing his eyes to himself. The General’s jealousy was rearing its ugly head, and clouded his judgment. 

Rex, hoping to change the subject, faked a cough as he patted Anakin’s shoulder harshly. “The tea, sir, it smells like it’s burning.” 

Anakin didn’t correct him to say it wasn’t— that tea didn’t burn— but he was grateful for the reminder. He pushed forward and stirred the ladle in the pot. The herbs Anakin had handpicked swirling around in the boiling opaque green liquid. 

His chronic inability to let things go caused him to continue digging. “Perhaps if you’re lucky, she’ll invite you in her tent for a roll in the sack.” he told Hunter, gauging his reaction carefully.

Abashedly, Hunter shook his head, chuckling wryly, to disguise his suffocation in this atmosphere. “Oh, no, sir. I wouldn’t distract myself on a mission like that.” 

Distrustful, and stooping lower, Anakin mused as disingenuously as possible, “How noble.” It ended the conversation.

[kemakoshume]

𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞-𝐦𝐨𝐢 (alpha sukuna x omega afab!reader) — pt. 2 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

warnings; lmao okay let's go down the list — ABO dynamics! she/they enby omega!reader (pronouns used interchangeably, reader is referred to as a girl via pet names— i.e. baby girl, good girl, etc). alpha!sukuna, office/modern times au—no curses, boss x employee dynamic. office sex, oral (f!receiving), one singular clit spank, ass play (not full-on anal), asphyxiation/breath play, orgasm delay/denial, light dom/sub, sex toy/vibrator, overstimulation. i think that's it lmao pls lmk if i need to add anything else!

a/n; "eh, i'll just write a little epilogue" — the epilogue: [10k words] idk what happened either i just blinked and this showed up in my google doc, don't look at me. pt. one; pt. two ♡⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾ʚ enjoy! || ~ crossposted on ao3 in case you prefer reading long fics over there ~

“So, in summary, you — Sukuna — were asked to aid the subordinate in an abrupt, unplanned, heat — spurred on not by a prior relationship of any kind, but primarily because you were the only alpha in the vicinity that was awarded the omega’s trust. That resulted in four — no, five — days of intimate exchanges that have culminated in an amorous relationship, of which the two of you require human resource mitigation in regards to work circumstances. Does that sound correct?”

You look over at the alpha by your side, reaching out your hand beneath the heavy oak table to grab hold of his. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

The manager turns her attention towards the man, raising her eyebrows as she reiterates the question. “Sukuna?”

“Yes, Utahime,” he nods, squeezing your hand softly. “You're correct.”

“Okay, good,” the woman says, scribbling her initials across the side margin of the document sitting on the table before her. “Now, last thing. I have to ask… are you confirming that the intimate nature of the relationship will continue? Even if it isn’t, we still need to go over our next steps, but it’ll help me out a ton going forward if we’re all on the same page about this.”

You can feel Sukuna’s eyes fixed on the profile of your face, and when you look over to meet his gaze all you see within his eyes are questions. Does this mean we’re meant to be mated? Do we even like each other outside of the hormones and hedge fund conferences? Is this worth our careers?

Your mouth falls agape, opening and closing with a mumble of words with no meaning. What if you weren’t on the same page? What if it meant more to you than it did to him? What were you, exactly? The questions swirled in your brain, trying to seek refuge in memories of words spoken between moans, and sweet promises made over the sharing of meals. Still, when faced with the question in such a clinical way — even after the long two days of non-heat conversations the two of you had and the years you’d spent knowing him prior to this — the answer was still somewhat hard to find.

“I think it’s fair to say we have some things to figure out,” Sukuna says, his eyes not leaving yours as he takes the reins, “but, the chemistry is there, and to be completely frank, it’s way too strong for me to ever look at her as just an employee ever again. I don’t think I’d have an easy time following any of our employee ‘harassment’ clauses with her around and I definitely don’t think I could go the whole workday having to pretend she’s anything less than my — well, like I said, I think we still have some things to talk about. Still, unless I’ve misread something, I think it’s safe to answer that question with a yes. What do you think?” he asks, passing the question back over to you.

You grin, drinking in his words and all of their implications — along with the passing thoughts of the days worth of merriment you spent shacked up in your home together. You feel your cheeks and neck growing warm, and your mouth going a bit dry. You clear your throat, trying and failing to hide the train of thought your mind has wandered down.

“I think… I agree. We have a few years worth of familiarity and we now have some… experience with each other outside of that, but there’s still plenty to learn. Lots of dates to catch up on, lots of questions to ask, lots of likes and dislikes to be learned.”

“Lots of long nights we’ve missed out on to make up for,” he teases, uncharacteristically quietly for him, though his words are still very audible in the close quarters around Iori’s desk space.

“Ryomen,” she warns, her eyes serious, though the smile on her lips is soft. He apologizes, squeezing your hand gently again as Iori fixes her gaze back onto the paper. You smack his arm softly, though you’re unable to hide the growing smile blooming on your face as you do so.

Iori scribbles down more words and signatures across her paper, quickly typing up something on her computer in tandem with her notes. She clicks a button on the screen and her printer comes to life, popping out a few sheets of white paper covered top to bottom in black ink. She reaches back her arm to grab the sheets from the device, turning them around and placing them in front of both you and Sukuna on your shared side of her desk.

“So, this top sheet is for both of you to sign. It’s just an acknowledgment of the disclosure about your relationship, budding as it may be, and it summarizes the order of events. It also has a confirmation statement from the employee relations department acknowledging their clearance of both of you from any wrongdoings. Please sign that, after you both read it. Your signature on top,” she says, motioning to you, “and your signature on the bottom,” she says, placing a spare pen down on the solid wood of the desk beside the papers.

You both read through the document quickly, nodding towards each other once you’re done. Sukuna signs across the dotted line first — his signature and printed name done in handwriting so pretty that you’re always a bit shocked to see his words written down. He hands the pen to you, holding the top of the paper down flat with his palm to keep it from moving while you scrawl your own signature above his.

With that, Iori takes the top sheet away, quickly shifting the papers so that they’re only sitting on your side of the table. “Now, for this next part, I need to speak directly to you. I’m assuming you’re familiar with our chief operations officer, Mei Mei. Correct?”

You nod, staring at the fair-skinned woman in wait for further explanation.

“Well, funny timing. She has officially extended an offer for you to come on board as her executive officer of operations — slash, head project manager. We haven’t exactly figured out the terminology of the role completely yet. I apologize,” Iori chuckles, twirling a Santos De Cartier rollerball pen between her lithe fingers. “But, anyway, this decision shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone; truthfully, we’ve been debating on who should fill the position for a while and you were at the top of the list long before this little ‘situation’ came to light. The final pick, being you, was made well over a month ago, but Mei Mei hadn’t been sure when to extend her offer. It would’ve screwed us if we had to let you go too soon. But now, all the associate executive training is done, and — after some internal review —we concluded that nothing unsavory was happening between the two of you prior to this past week. So, all the loose ends are tied.”

You look over at Sukuna, a grin curling the corner of your lips as you take in the smug smile painted on his. “Wait… Mei Mei wants me to come work under her? So… that means—”

“Congratulations on the promotion, and the six-figure raise,” Iori winks, placing her pen down beside her computer’s keyboard. “You’ll have to report to Mei Mei in her office on the flip side of downtown starting on Thursday, should you accept the offer and if the immediate start date works for you. This change in position will remove you from Sukuna’s direct subordination, so you two can continue whatever this is that you have going on, and we don’t have to lose either of you. I think they call this a… win-win?”

You chuckle, though the expression doesn’t stay on your face for very long. “But,” you hesitate, exhaling a slow stream of breath, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I mean, I’ve only been here two years, and the company is still so new relative to that, and I’m sure there must be someone else with more experience or know-how than me that would have been a better fit. I just… I gave myself time to mold myself for this role that I’m currently in. I wasn’t really prepared to jump up to third-in-command overnight. I just — it feels sudden. And, won’t people think it’s a bit fishy that I was gone for a week — so was my boss — now we both come back, at the same time, and all of a sudden I’m changing locations and working a new position that makes triple my old salary? I just… I don’t want anyone to question how I got this.”

Sukuna shakes your hand a bit, drawing your attention.

“Bunny, isn’t there a saying about this? Something like… ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” Sukuna says, his voice teasing. “Listen, I need you to understand that you aren’t being given this opportunity. I had no pull on this decision at all, this all came down to Mei Mei and Nanami’s final deliberation. You fucking earned this! We’ve tripled our profits annually every year since you’ve stepped into your position. You’re quick as hell at the mouth and we’ve doubled our clientele base because of it. I mean, you talk circles around these guys we deal with every day and you make them see things your way. Not only that, but you make them think it was all their idea in the first place. It’s insane, and very… interesting to watch, to say the least.”

Iori clears her throat, a very knowing look on her face as she stares Sukuna down.

He grins, taking the opportunity to kiss the top of your hand. “Sorry, I’ll stop. But, [y/n], the only thing you need to be worried about right now is what color you want the walls painted in your corner office. You were great in your position here — amazing in fact, and everyone knows it. Now, you get to show off your shit at this new job. You’ll be great at it. I wouldn’t have pitched you for it all those weeks ago if I didn’t genuinely think it was true.”

You look into his eyes, the ruby-red sparkle in them calling out to yours. You feel your heart swell as you take him in — all of it in, really. It’s just… so much, so fast.

“Well, to be fair,” Iori quips, bringing you both back down into the moment, “Mei Mei was prepared to wait on an answer anyway, so you don’t have to decide on the offer right this second. It’s a big jump, I can’t fault you for being a little hesitant. However, I do have to explain that — given your position in the company — there’s not much else we can do with your employment here if you don’t want to move up. Unfortunately, you can’t work here and stay on as Ryomen’s direct report, but you’ve climbed the ladder here so quickly there’d be nowhere else for you to go, at least in our location, should you not accept the offer,” she says, her top lip curled down towards her bottom one. “Likewise, Sukuna is our chief information officer. So, to say the least, losing him in that role would also fuck us. But, [y/n]... you are nothing short of brilliant in your role. You’ve made us millions in profit, you’re constantly innovating new things for our customers, and investors, and overall… you’re a superstar. It’d be a huge loss for us if you decided not to stay. But, you’re free to do what you want in your personal life. Neither I nor Sukuna can, nor should we, make that decision for you.”

The alpha nods, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. “You heard her angel. The decision’s all yours.”

“Yeah,” you nod back, sitting up straighter in your chair as you reach over to grab a pen from Iori’s desk. “It sure is.”

“Alright, your paintings are officially bubble-wrapped and your coffee mugs are safe inside their padded box. Is that everything?”

“Almost. I still need to clean out my desk drawers, rehome these last three plants — but honestly, I think I can just leave them outside the door and someone will take them, then… I think I’ll be done.”

Nobara hums, loitering beneath the doorway of your nearly empty office. “It looks so weird in here without all your stuff,” she says, looking around the almost empty room. “However, you do realize that the whole point of your boss arranging a moving company for you is that you don’t have to do any of the packing or the moving… right?”

You chuckle, popping open a new moving box and sitting it on top of your office desk. “I know,” you groan, plopping down into the desk chair, “I just… wanted to go through my stuff to see what was a keep and what was a toss, but then I started really going through it all, and getting memories behind a lot of it, and I couldn’t help myself. At least now I know it was all packed with love.”

Nobara rolls her eyes playfully, walking into the room and sitting down on the newly exposed and vacuumed carpet. “I get it. This was basically your second home for the last couple of years. I imagine it’s a little hard to leave.”

“A little,” you scoff, a sad smile crossing your features. “I really am gonna miss this place. The catered food, the second-floor espresso machine, casual dress, ‘bring your fur child to work’ day, bar crawl night, the food delivery discounts, the weekly massages, the office parties…”

Nobara smirks, her eyes trained on you as she watches you dwindle down the list. “Oh please. Mei Mei’s office has everything we do, plus: comped hair appointments, makeup and skincare consultations, financial advisory, and I’ve heard rumors that she gives you a company credit card that rewards cashback and airline miles that she lets you keep. Frankly, I don’t think you’ll miss it here too much once those perks start rolling in.”

You chuckle, drawing your legs up to cross them in your lap, looking fondly at the beta woman. “Fair point. She does love making sure her people are taken care of and on her level. Still, it won’t be the same. The people there won’t be… well, you guys. Can’t replace that.”

Nobara rolls her eyes, rocking back onto her tailbone with her face towards the sky. “God, stop it. You were sappy enough during your going away party yesterday. I can’t handle it again today.”

You tease the beta, imitating her poor attempts at concealing her sniffles when you’re interrupted, the last person to stop by your office on the ‘office goodbye tour’ peeking into the doorway.

“Hey. Am I interrupting?” Maki says, poking her head into the room. You shake your head no, waving her in through the agape door of your office.

“Wow, I came to help out but it looks like you two got all the major packing done,” she says, looking around the barren room. “Well, not to add to the pile but I come bearing gifts. The whole department chipped in and got you one last thing as a ‘final goodbye’ present.”

She pulls out a wide black box from the large pocket in her briefcase, sitting the package down in front of you on your desk.

“Oh, what’s all this?” you say, your voice light as you stand up to open the box, eyeballing the myriad of items tetris'd neatly inside: a miniature Dior perfume, a labelless golden pendant necklace, Clase Azul Reposado Tequila, macarons, and a candle with a custom “good luck finding better co-workers than us” label with all of your associates’ names listed in tiny font.

“Aw, Maki! This is so sweet,” you say, the tears left unshed threatening to spill over in your eyes. “Thank you! God, you didn’t have to. This stuff is expensive! How did you even get all this?”

The older omega chuckles, crossing her arms across her chest. “Ryomen pays us all pretty well, you know. Also, Miwa down in sales has a connection that does VIP gift boxes at a big discount so we didn’t break the bank too much. Besides, you deserve it, and this promotion.”

You round your large desk, pulling the fellow omega into a tight hug. She tries to fight it, but after a few seconds, you feel her sigh in relentment, wrapping her own arms around you in a loose hug. “I should’ve let Itadori come give this to you instead before everyone left. Of course, I end up being the last one here to see you off. Well, and Nobara I guess,” she huffs, absentmindedly tightening the hug. “As the French say, ‘tant pis.’ I guess I’ll accept this on everyone’s behalf. You’re lucky your hugs feel nice and your hair smells like grapefruit.”

“Oh, whatever Maki,” Nobara interrupts, hopping up from her place on the floor to bounce up to you two, wrapping her arms around you both to make the hug a group affair. “You love this. Wouldn’t be rambling so much if you didn’t.”

You can’t see the juniper-haired girl roll her eyes, but you can feel it in the way her shoulders slump. You chuckle, rubbing both of the girls’ backs with the flat palms of your hands. “I’ll miss you both. I literally wouldn’t have made it last week without you so… thank you. I can’t think of the words to say other than that, and that I appreciate you both. I’m glad I met you.”

Nobara groans, her sounds muffled by the fabric of Maki’s sleeve. “Please, why are we acting like you’re moving to Timbuktu? You’re just going to the other side of downtown!” she laughs, lifting her face to look at you directly. “You’re not even moving! Just changing work locations.”

You giggle, leaning back with your arms still wrapped around the other girls’ waists. “You’re right. I won’t be far away, and I promise I won’t be a stranger. We can have our own little bar crawl night once I’m settled in with the new gig! How about that?”

“I’m down,” Nobara says, a smile beaming on her face.

“I’ll show up,” Maki smirks, pulling you back in for one final squeeze.

“You better,” you quip, looking behind Maki’s head to glance at the clock still fixed on your wall. “Oh, guys, you should get going. Traffic’s already bad but if you don’t go now then you’ll get stuck in peak rush hour traffic — aka, hell.”

The two women both turn their heads, looking up at the clock and prickling at the time.

“Shit, we probably should. Are you not coming with us?” Nobara asked, walking back over to where she’d left her purse on the carpeted floor. Maki sauntered over to her, not really doing anything, just hovering around in the beta’s space.

You shake your head no, scrunching your nose in protest. “Nah. You two go ahead. I want to get my desk packed and I have some paperwork to square away, then I’ll go.”

She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip and squinting her amber-colored eyes in contemplation.

“Don’t make that face,” you chuckle, corralling both women towards the door. “I’ve been staying here late for years. Security will still be here for a few more hours and I parked in the keycode garage so… I’ll be fine. Hurry up and go or it’ll take you an hour to get home.”

They both looked at you with dejected expressions on their faces. Maybe because this felt like a goodbye, even though you all knew it was more like a “see you later.” This was really it. The next time either of them saw you in a work setting again would be a conference, or maybe an office party you’d be invited to by proxy of Sukuna — if that continued — or maybe Nobara would invite you herself, or maybe Inumaki would extend the invitation via email with a cute little flyer he’d have made himself on Photoshop. Who knows.

It just felt a little strange to say goodbye, even with the little time you’d spent getting to know them both. But, sometimes friendship feels right like love at first sight. The two women were great humans, and it did hurt a bit to be abandoning the blossoming friendships. Physically, at least.

“Go, go,” you say, shooing them both towards the hallway, waving down at them as they finally pivot on their feet and move towards the elevators — mainly Maki, sort of pulling Nobara along with her hand on the beta’s lower back.

“Text when you’re home, please! And don’t drink too much of that tequila, it’s really strong! And it sneaks up on you!” Nobara yelled once they’d made it, leaving the office hallway in stark quiet once the elevator doors closed in her face.

You turn, sighing to yourself as you move back into your office, closing the door behind you as you make your way back to your desk, plopping back down into your large office chair. You dive into sorting through your things, turning on soft music over the speaker of your phone while you work on filling the last box. Admittedly, there was quite a bit of stuff in your drawers, but only so much of it served an actual purpose. You had typical office things of course: your pens, your stapler, highlighters, etc. But there were also plenty of knickknacks and other personal items you’d collected over the years: a fuzzy headband for nights where you’d stayed in the office late enough that you did your skincare routine, a few room temperature sodas, aforementioned skincare routine set, a metal scalp massager for when you got headaches, Tylenol for when you got headaches, socks for when your feet got cold, a heating pad, loose change, candy, and —

“Oh. I thought I took you home,” you mutter, digging around in the middle drawer of your desk until you unearth a little pink bullet vibrator. To be fair, the nights at the office were long, and the days could be stressful. The week leading up to your heat had you even more on edge than normal, understandably. Lingering thoughts about one tall, tattooed, rosey-haired alpha didn’t help the matter much either.

You smirk to yourself as thoughts stir in your brain featuring the man, heat rising beneath your collar as memories of the week that you’d spent together cross your mind. His scent — a heady mix of honey, pine, and peppercorn — still lingers in the back of your throat. His hands left imprints you can still feel on your hips. Your scent gland still throbs dully from the healed puncture marks carved delicately by his teeth, and your lips still feel numb from the weight of his kisses.

Your hand follows down the line of your jaw, mimicking the motions of his blunt nails tracing the smooth edges of your face. You lower your hand down the front of your shirt, cascading down the slope of your breasts over the peaked buds straining hard from the slightly air-conditioned chill of your office. You pinch them, groping your own chest with hands that are too small to imitate the alpha’s but feel good nonetheless. You lean back in the chair, forcing the top of the seat to recline. You take off your shoes, pulling up your knees and placing your feet flat near the edge of your seat while your hand moves further, trailing down your stomach before you find yourself stopping, lingering the touch above your womb. The absentminded thought of “what if” crosses your mind in a flash before you quickly shake it away, going down further to rest above your sex through the fabric of your bottoms.

Your office is secluded enough that, even if someone else had been present on your floor, no one would have been able to see you with your door closed, and you were always quiet enough that they definitely wouldn’t have been able to hear you if you made a little noise. In the two whole years you’d spent in your position, you’d never worried about anything more than the occasional janitor coming by, knocking lightly against the thick, heavy, wooden door before peeking in to ask if they could clean. An executive or two might have stayed late like you did but you were always aware, so your noises stayed hushed and your door remained closed. This would be your last opportunity to do this in the comfort of your own office. One more orgasm for the road couldn’t hurt.

You keep that in mind when your hand breaches the band of your underwear, sliding down into the wet slick leaking from your slit. The tip of your finger slides against the puffy lips, dipping down into the slippery warmth to rub circles around your swollen clit. You sink deeper into your seat, thinking desperately about the way Sukuna’s hands felt when he did this to you. Sitting you down in his lap, your back against his chest, rubbing lazy little circles against your clit while you watched TV on the couch during a moment of partial lucidity — lapping his tongue against all the nips and bites littering your skin to accelerate the healing simultaneously coaxing you into what must have been your seventh orgasm of that day to distract you from the contraction of your scar-devoid skin.

You lower your hand gripping the vibrator down to meet the other, replacing that hand with the soft vibrations from the toy. The sensation is inherently very different from your fingers, but the increase in pleasure is instantly palpable. The heat that’d built within your chest moved down to shroud your sex, tangling and pulsating within the swollen bud until you feel something akin to what lightning might taste like. Building and building until —

*knock knock knock*

The quick tapping of knuckles against your office door startles you, causing you to jolt upward as your heart rate skyrockets.

“Who is it,” you yell a touch too loud, stopping the vibrations from the toy.

“Housekeeping,” the person says, though you can tell from the coyness laced into the baritone voice that it’s definitely not housekeeping.

You remove your hand from your pants, tossing the toy into the box on your desk before wiping the wet digits on a company t-shirt you had stuffed in your desk drawer. “Come in.”

The alpha opens the door, sliding into the room dressed in casual clothes — very casual for him, actually. The alpha’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt, athletic pants, and sneakers which is a nice contrast to his normal (laid back) business attire, and a wonderful reminder of the sort of clothing he’d worn on the last day of your heat — when the temperature outside dropped thus increasing the need for warm clothes, and cuddles, which the agency preemptively provided.

He looks cute.

“I—” Sukuna starts, though the words get stuck in his throat as he inhales, sniffing the pheromones saturating the air. He looks down at you, his eyes trained on you with that look you’d spent the last week getting used to. “Were you just…”

“Yes,” you admit, too self-aware of the smell — the smell that you normally would have dispelled by turning on your air purifier… the thing that Nobara had so kindly packed for you first as you’d cleared out your things. And you — stupid, horny, post-heat you — didn’t think to crack a window or something.

Your natural scent was more prominent than it normally would have been, since you’d foregone wearing the intensely strong blockers you’d used before. You made the switch to a more neutral brand, like the kind most omegas in your country chose to use. Still, the scent of arousal was not mutually exclusive to your omega scent, so… it could stand out on its own even through blockers. Obviously.

“What were you thinking about that got you horny enough to touch yourself in the workplace, huh?” he asks, sauntering towards you, watching you like a lion stalking prey through the tall elephant grass of the savannah. He grabs the arms of your chair once he reaches you and leans down into your space, his nose mere inches from your own.

“How’d you know I was still here?” you ask, meeting his gaze. “Stalking me?”

He chuckles, running his tongue across his bottom row of teeth. “I asked you a question first bunny.”

“I asked you second Ryo. I got the last word, so you have to answer me first,” you tease, running your sock-covered foot up his torso, pushing up the fabric of his shirt.

The alpha tenses his jaw, turning his head slightly to the right like he might kiss you, but he doesn’t. “I came to get some papers from my office. Asked Aoi why he was still in the security station and he said he was waiting around since you were still up here… and because Yuki isn’t here to switch shifts with him yet.”

You smile, lifting yourself up enough to trap his bottom lip between your teeth, soothing it with a soft kiss. “She’s something else. Gotta love her.”

“Mhm,” he hums, deepening the kiss as he sinks down to balance on his heels. “Answer my question, kitten.”

You giggle, the sound coming out more breathless than you meant for it to. “Well, I was packing some things.”

“Go on,” Sukuna coaxes, lifting the fabric of your shirt to expose the soft flesh of your tummy, kissing and nipping the skin above the band of your bottoms voraciously. He grips the fabric there, sliding down the material —and your underwear, by proxy — until it's pooled on the floor and your legs are exposed to the chilled air of your office. He kisses your skin — all over your hips and lower belly as his eyes look up at you expectantly.

“I, uh, while I was sorting through everything — I found a little toy I’d brought to keep me company on late nights, and I started thinking about some things and I thought… well, no one’s here. Might as well have one last hurrah in my office while it’s still mine.”

His eyes pop open wide, the kissing ceases as the alpha stares at you in unabashed bewilderment. “I’m sorry,” he scoffs, standing up in an instant. He moves his legs to balance one knee on your seat, situated between your legs and forcing them open, while he brings up his free hand to grip your jaw firmly.

You smirk, the little laugh that escapes your lips followed quickly by a groan when his fingers dip down to wrap — less firmly — around your throat. A gentle threat, but not enough for you to lose your ability to speak.

“You mean to tell me… that all those long nights we were working together —just a floor apart — you were in here touching my pussy right under my nose?”

You chuckle, lightly scraping your nails along the span of his muscular forearm to wrap around his wrist. “I don’t remember saying it was yours, and it definitely wasn’t yours then,” you tease, lifting your hips to rut against his thigh placed perfectly between your legs. “I was playing with my pussy, in my office, thinking about how badly I wanted my boss to come down here and fuck me so hard I couldn’t remember my own name.”

Sukuna grins, placing his left palm flat on your lower belly to stop your movements. “Funny you mention that, bunny. See, I remember you screaming for me while I fucked you for five straight days, with two extra thrown in for good measure — even after the heat stopped. You let me, and all of your neighbors, know whose pussy this is — over, and over, and over again for 168 hours. Every time I filled this tight little cunt with my cum and stuffed you full with my knot — you came, and you cried, and you begged me to do it all over again. ‘Til you were so full of my cum that you couldn’t even keep your eyes open, and you couldn’t remember your name ‘til day six.”

He leans down into your space again, so close you can taste the peppermint on his breath from whatever brand of gum he must have chewed before coming into your office. “The heat must’ve made your memory a little hazy, baby” the alpha coos, placing a ghost of a kiss against your lips, “that’s okay. I think you just need a little refresher, huh kitten?”

You nod, twisting your hips side to side beneath the pressure from his hand, groaning when he tightens the pressure on your neck, enjoying the lightweight feeling that envelops your brain for a few moments, his gaze intense as he looks down at your face to gauge your reactions. He kisses your chin and your cheeks as his hand on your throat relaxes, moving it back to cradle your neck. His fingers spread, gliding along the surface of your scalp before he grabs a fistful of your hair there near your nape. He yanks back your head, pulling you into a searing kiss that steals all the breath from your lungs. Then, the alpha's tongue pushes into your mouth, the sound of your kisses loud in the empty room even over the sound of your music.

You revel in the taste of him on your lips, falling into the push and pull of his mouth on yours easily as though you’d never left the comfort of your queen bed. Sukuna groans as he takes in a deep breath, separating his lips from yours to suck the pulsating scent gland on your neck. “How long were you touching yourself before I walked in?” he murmurs, relaxing the hand gripping your hair to cradle your head in his large hand.

You moan, straining the tendon housed between the muscles and bone there to allow him utmost access to your throat. The submission crashes heavily on your senses, and the fervent swirling of “want” brewing beneath your skin comes bubbling up to the surface. “Too long,” you whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pressing need for him grows, “please, alpha.”

The alpha's scent flares — that signature mix of woodiness and sweetness you craved so deeply flooding into your nose and dulling your senses. The music is silent, the ambient light from your last remaining lamp dims, and the only scent in the office belongs to the man above you.

“Alpha?” he mimics, moving the hand on your belly down, slipping his fingers into the dripping wet heat of your cunt. “What happened to Ryo angel? Losing yourself already and I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

A moan spills from your lips — a loud desperate sound as he curls the digits, pushing against the spongy patch of nerves along the top of your walls. He's kissing you wherever he can reach: your jaw, your ears, your collarbones… anywhere. The alpha's mouth explores further down while his fingers work, eventually stopping when he’s situated above your breast. His teeth graze over your nipples still covered by the pesky layer of your clothing, biting the little nub before placing a soothing kiss there in vain. He reclaims the hand that’d held your head up, letting your upper body relax against the leather of the chair so he can remove your shirt — making quick work of untying the little decorative ribbon in the middle and unbuttoning the snaps, exposing you fully. “So pretty baby,” Sukuna coos, leaning down to suck the bud into his mouth, moving his thumb against your clit in maddening circles.

“Please,” you sigh, a sharp intake of breath quickly following when he adds slight pressure from his teeth. “Please, ‘was already close. Just… more. A little more.”

He hums against your breast, sending vibrations down into your chest, resonating in your heart. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Say — oh — what?”

Sukuna looks up at you, his fiery red eyes alight with mischief. “Tell me who’s pussy this is, and I’ll let you cum.”

You scoff, looking down at him through squinted eyes as the spirit of mischief makes its way into you. “Keep dreaming,” you tease, tilting your head back to break eye contact, not allowing the incoming flood of endorphins tip-toeing around your brain to make you break. “You only heard me say that because you caught me in a heat. Now — fuck — I’m lucid, Ryo. You have to earn it.”

His muscles stiffen, the motions of his fingers against your clit coming to a halt. He pulls out the digits and unlatches his mouth from your breast, sucking your essence off of his fingers as he moves, sauntering over to the couch teaming with pillows you’d gotten to accent its forest green color.

The man grabs four pillows and a blanket from the small pile of (decorative) bedding, walking back towards your desk on the side opposite of where you’re sitting, touching yourself again to replace the alpha’s larger, more flexible, fingers.

“Whatcha doin’?” you ask, your voice still heavy with arousal as you watch the alpha move around the room.

He drops two of the pillows onto the surface of your desk, sliding one of them close to the edge of the table, while the thick blanket is spread onto the floor in front of your couch, and the other pillows are scattered around the area. He ignores you — the only indication he’s even listening to you, and what your hands are doing, is the sharp spike in that honey undertone in his scent that alludes to his growing arousal. That and the outline of his cock jumping a bit under the loose fabric of his Nike running pants.

The alpha walks over to you again, his eyes trained on you like a lion once more as he stops in front of you. He leans down, smacking your hands away from your sex as he slides his arm around the center of your back, hoisting you up and out of your chair with that arm while the other comes up to support you by holding your ass. He gives it a squeeze, followed instantly by a loud smack.

“I’m earning it.” The man carries you to the other side of the desk with ease, laying you back on the wooden surface with one pillow beneath your head, and the other slid underneath your tailbone.

He kneels, his face level with your cunt nosing the soft patch of hair above your sex before moving his mouth further down, kissing the puffy lips of your cunt before he dips in his tongue, sucking and licking the swollen bud with a fervor you assumed was isolated in those last few hours he’d been in his rut. Part of your brain thanks the gods you were wrong.

“More, Ryo,” you cry, the sensations shooting up your spine like little shocks, tingling along the nerves branching off from the bones. Your orgasm comes up to the surface again so quickly, right on the edge of your tongue when the alpha pulls away, landing a firm swat against your pussy when you whine. “What the fuck!” you groan, your mouth falling slack in confusion.

He chuckles, moving his head to kiss your inner thighs. “Be patient. I’m proving a point.”

“You’re such a dick,” you snicker, lacing your hand through his hair to tug harshly on the pink locks, drawing his attention back up to your eyes. “Make me cum, and maybe I’ll let you fuck me.”

Sukuna didn’t respond to that verbally, but the glint in his eye made your flushed skin shiver.

Your head knocks back down towards the desk when he places his tongue back onto your clit — flicking the tip just how you like until that same burning heat is back, licking at the core of your stomach from within. He inserts his fingers, adding more stimulation that turns the flame into a fever pitch of pleasure that nearly drives you over the edge. But, it doesn’t, because he pulls away again. “Sukuna,” you whine, aching for release.

Your skin burns — the surface warm and wet with sweat while crackles of electricity run haywire underneath. You feel him laughing against your skin where he’s kissing you, notably not where you need him to be, and you feel something within you snap.

“Fine,” you challenge, sitting up enough to stretch your arm upwards, feeling around inside the moving box not far from your head. You find what you’re looking for instantly since it was right on top where you’d left it. “It’s the 21st-century love, I can do it myself.”

You click the vibrator’s “on” button making the skinny, finger-length, textured bullet hum to life. The alpha's eyes grow wide as you trail the device down your stomach, getting it all the way down to the top of your slit before the alpha catches your wrist, a low growl rumbling from the depth of his chest.

“Oh, it’s like that?” he says, raising his eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s like that,” you say, breathless and impossibly turned on.

His eyes grow darker — the characteristic persian red looking more like the finest Chateau Margaux red wine. The vibrator is swiftly plucked from your hand, though the man doesn’t turn it off or put it away like you thought he might. No, instead, he runs the toy down the valley of your folds, not stopping his descent until the toy is pressed against the slick-slippery hole below your cunt. “Say yes or no,” he coaxes, his voice frighteningly deadpan.

“Jesus,” you jump, your hips bucking against his forearm that’s placed against your lower belly as the vibrations flow through you. “I — I haven’t done it t-that way since —”

“I know baby,” he coos, not pushing the toy any further but not pulling it back at all either. “That was in the heat of, well… your heat. Say no and I’ll stop.” The vibrations from the soft touch echo into your pussy, just barely kissing the tips of the nerves that go up to the button that craves the alpha's touch.

You nod, a firm, “yes,” escaping your lips before your mind has time to process it. A smirk crosses his face then as he moves, running soothing circles with his fingers on your hips as the the toy pushes forward — breaching the puckered hole easily before stopping at the slightly flared base.

“Good girl,” Sukuna coos, untying the little band of fabric keeping his pants snug on his waist as he lowers his face again, this time not teasing at all with the precision of his tongue on your clit. He slips his fingers back into your walls, massaging the inside in tandem with the vibration pattern of the toy in your ass. The toy’s placement inside you — only separated from your cunt by a thin layer of muscle — sparks gleam behind the lids of your eyes.

Your mind goes blank — only Sukuna and the tangled mess of your scents bleeding into the symphony of pure bliss resounding in your brain. “Ryo,” you cry, gripping the back of his hair with your hand, keeping him fixed in place with his tongue flicking with fervor against your clit. He hums, sucking the bud into his mouth while his tongue keeps the same motion. He adds suction, physically coaxing the pleasure from your core. “God. I — I… please don’t, again,” you cry, your words a jumbled mess as the heat turns to open flame beneath the tight knot settled in your belly, growing larger and taller until it’s burning the rope, puffing up angrily as the band melts away, singed and weak as the coil snaps and a wave of relief pours over you like summer rain — warm and wet with remnants of the fire.

You cross your feet at the ankles, keeping them firm around the man's back as your orgasm washes over your body, radiating from the crown of your head down to your toes. The vibration of the toy is still going, and his fingers are still plunging inside of you, even as the waves settle down and the lightness in your head starts to feel grounded again.

“Too much,” you whisper, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head when Sukuna puts his mouth back on you, sucking — albeit more gently — at the throbbing, overstimulated, bud.

The alpha hums, using his thumb to turn off the vibrator as he stills his hand, though his mouth stays in place for a few more seconds, sucking your clit slowly to keep it engorged and sensitive before he moves, taking off his shirt to expose his toned abs. “Keeping your promise?” he asks, licking your essence from his lips.

You smile, grabbing your knees to spread your legs apart, exposing yourself fully for the alpha. “Take me however you want me. You earned that,” you say, a coy smile on your lips as he scoffs, understanding the implication in your words.

“Okay,” he says, jutting out his chin a bit as he nods his head, standing up straight and grabbing your shins, “we’ll see how long that little attitude lasts.” You look down, pleased to see his cock out and standing at attention as he grabs it, fisting the length and giving it a few tugs before pushing himself up against your entrance. He removes the toy and tosses it back to land on the blanket — then, he’s in you, filling you up and forcing the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck, Sukuna. So — god, you’re big,” you groan, your pussy squeezing around him as you adjust to the length. It had only been a few days since the last time you’d had the older man inside of you. You weren’t as tightly wound as your body could be, but he was an alpha — a very well-endowed alpha. The only reason he hadn’t been so hard to take during your heat, your first time, was because — well, your body was ready for it on a biological level. Your omega body was made to fit and accommodate whatever size your alpha presented with. Still, he was blessed in the width department more than the length (though that was perfect as well) so it took a moment to relax enough for him, even as turned on as you were and no matter how many times you’d done this before during your week together.

Calloused hands rub up and down the back of your thighs soothingly, kissing your legs in the spots he could reach while you panted, placing your hand on his lower abdomen to prevent him from moving (even though he wasn’t making any move to do so yet). “If you can’t take it this way we can move, bunny. Don’t force it.”

You look up into his eyes, still deep and dark but with a soft edge to them that looks so childish on his otherwise sharp features. You try to relax more, shimming your hips this way and that to see if any slight movements can make the position more manageable, but it doesn’t. “Fuck,” you huff, wiping your hands down your face, “I think I need to move.”

Sukuna chuckles, sliding his hands under your back to scoop you up into his strong arms, the tip of his length still inside of you as he carries you over to the blanket in front of your couch. “On top or from the back?” he asks, gently wiping his hand through the sweat-damp hair sticking to your face.

“Back,” you grin, kissing him as the alpha lowers your bodies down to the floor. He sits you down, pulling you into a searing kiss as he lowers himself down to his knees. One of the pillows he’d taken earlier is handed to you as you scoot backward towards the couch — not stopping until your back hits the upholstery. Your hands find the sides of his face, holding him close to keep him kissing you as you turn around to bend over the cushioned edge of the furniture. He adjusts with your body, turning his head to the side to keep your lips connected as he slides up behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other rests on the couch in front of you — level with your breasts. He pinches your erect nipples as you wiggle the pillow beneath your knees, giving you more leverage against the alpha’s tall height, and keeping the poor bones there from getting sore too quickly.

“I want you,” you purr, slowly fucking yourself back on the tip of his cock as the stretch transitions to pleasure, and the slight sting from his length holding you open blossoms into warmth. “Please Ryo.”

Sukuna pouts, sliding his cock into you slowly until his hips are flush against your ass. “Ryo… Ryo… Ryo,” he tsks, tilting your chin up so he can look at your eyes, “am I making you feel good bunny?” he asks, his voice sounding too firm for the words to be a question. "Good enough for you to be a good little omega and submit for me?"

You nod your head yes — the weight from the edging and the burn left wilting on your skin in the race towards another release making your resolve wain. All thoughts of stubbornness level your brain as you crane your neck more, coaxing the alpha — your alpha — back in with a kiss. He moves his hand away from your breast to grip your jaw — sliding his hand down to your throat again which stops your movements. Red eyes bore into yours, asking for your permission and accepting your consent when you nod, grabbing the alpha's wrist gently as he increases the firmness of his hold on your neck. He kisses you then, letting pressure go then applying it again on your throat as he starts to move against you, fucking into you torturously slowly as the blood flow is tampered with in your brain.

“More,” you moan, using a lull in pressure to sigh out the word, pushing your own hips back to fuck yourself harder on his cock. “I can take more, alpha.”

He groans into your ear, readjusting your bodies just enough for his leverage to change, and he lets go. His hips snap against your ass, fucking his cock into you so deep and hard that tears form on your waterline from the sudden increase in stimulation. His length rubs every inch of your insides — the alpha towering over you fucking into you with a precision that shouldn’t be possible with so much girth inside your slick walls. The angle of his hips is perfectly fixed towards the sensitive spot within you and the lack of oxygen just adds to the stimulation. You nearly pass out when he moves his hand down between your body and the couch, placing his digits there to toy with your clit.

“So fucking wet and tight baby,” Sukuna moans, a low groan that sounds more like a growl in his throat coming out as he uses his knee to push yours out, opening you up a little more for him, “Fuck, your pussy’s so perfect. Tight and hot and so—so fucking wet angel. Just for me.” His hand relaxes enough to give you air again, and the blood rushing back to your head triggers the same sensation in your cunt.

“A—Alpha,” you sputter, your eyes shut tight as you freefall into the pool of pleasure Sukuna has built for you. The edging made your clit so sensitive; more sensitive and responsive than you’d ever felt before your heat — before you’d first let Sukuna have his way with your body, and you, his. “Feels so good. God, you fuck me so good. No one else w—will ever have me like this. Just you, alpha. Ryo.”

A low sound — unmistakably a growl — rumbles in his chest and the speed of his hips increases. The alpha fucks you like he wants to imprint himself into your cunt forever, to mold you around him so no other man would ever have a chance of feeling you the way he does. He lowers his head to the scent gland nestled at the base of your neck — a harmless little spot that meant nothing in regards to mating but served as a landmine for scenting — and he bites, drinking down the strong scent of peaches and white wine that radiates from it.

“Oh!” you cry, the orgasm sneaking up on you with a punch that knocks the air from your lungs again, even more than Sukuna’s hand had been capable of around your throat, and the tears fall — hot and wet as the two trails travel down your cheeks. “It’s yours! Fuck, it’s yours. I’m yours.”

Sukuna groans against your neck as your walls cinch tight around his cock, milking it for all he’s worth as his orgasm washes over him as well. You feel his cock twitch harshly inside of you, fucking you full of his cum that mingles with the flood of slick dripping from your cunt. “Fuck, bunny,” he moans, rubbing his hand along your jawline as his kisses pepper your skin. “You’re amazing. So smart, and kind, and beautiful. Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He kisses your hair, wrapping his body around you — essentially hugging you from behind — as his high descends down towards the baseline again, and you get pulled down to the blanket with him — both of you cuddled up on your sides.

You let him stay inside of you as you lay together, catching your breath and kissing as his cock weakly spurts the last of his seed in you. Eventually, you find yourself glancing at the clock on the wall, lazily tracing little figure-eights on Sukuna’s arm as you count the arms to read the time. “Hey,” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at Sukuna. The alpha’s eyes are shut, though you can tell he’s still awake. His cock is half-hard inside of you, twitching as if the length could be enticed into another round.

“Yes?” he says, smirking as he curls up closer to you, kissing you deeply.

You find yourself smiling against his lips as he pushes your hair out of your face, dotting your cheeks and your nose and your eyes with little pecks as well. “Sukuna, we gotta go.”

His eyebrows furrow, looking down at you like you’d grown a second set of eyes. “Rushing out on me already baby?" he teases, pouting his lip dramatically like you'd truly hurt the alpha's feelings. "Damn. Here I was thinking we’d go have a nice dinner, maybe even get a dessert, but you’re already doing the morning after dash... while we’re still on the night of! You wound me,” he says, putting his hand over his heart as if it will alleviate the pain, scrunching his face like you’d kicked a puppy in his presence.

You roll your eyes, kissing him again through your little laughs. “No, dumbass. It’s already after 9:00. Yuki, or Todo — depending on how their shift switch went — will be doing rounds in a bit. I’d rather not have them see my tits or their boss’s dick. I think they’d have a hard time respecting either of us after that.”

He chuckles, removing himself from your body to sit up on the blanket, extending his hand to pull you up with him. “Oh, that. You’re right, maybe we should head out of here. What about your stuff?” he asks, motioning towards your desk.

You giggle, getting up with a wobble in your step as you approach the desk, removing each drawer and dumping the remaining contents into the moving box you’d left on the already cleared surface, putting a haphazard layer of tape over the top. “There, done,” you grin, sliding your discarded clothing back on as you move around the room. “All my other stuff is in the conference room for the movers to grab in the morning and I’m sure they have their own stuff to move the couch. I’m all set.”

The alpha nods, siding on his own clothes and grabbing one more box — the last, actually — from the floor by the door, using it to quickly pack all of your couch accessories for you as you hop on top of your desk.

He approaches you, slotting himself between your dangling legs, kissing you once more — softer, slower — before Sukuna pulls away, grabbing your hands in his own and bringing them up to his chest. “One chapter closed. On to the next one, huh?” he says, glancing sideways to motion at the room.

You know he means more than just the room — it’s the job. It’s your entire life under him in your career coming to an end, but you’re on to bigger and better, hopefully equally as fulfilling, things. With new friendships, and a new role for Ryomen in your life all leading you into the next portion of your adulthood.

“You know something I’d love to write into this next chapter for myself?” you say, wrapping your arms around the alpha’s shoulder, scenting him as you rest your chin against his chest.

He looks down at you with those soft persian colored eyes, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. “What’s that?”

“I’d love to go to dinner, if you were being serious. Just us two — getting to know each other better, “learning each other” as you put it, sounds like fun. I —”

“Think this could be something good?” he says, flashing his pretty white teeth at you as you smile, nodding your head in agreement before pulling him down to kiss him again, this time with more heat.

You feel his cock harden to fullness against your inner thigh, and a small moan escapes your lips as you lower your hand to palm the length. The noise of the elevator dinging draws you both out of your little bubble, making both of you turn towards the door, then each other with a look of humored panic on your faces.

“How about we decide on that restaurant in the car?” he suggests, loosening his grip on your hips.

You hum, grabbing his waistband and pulling his crotch against yours before the alpha can move away from you. “Maybe we stop by your place first and finish this, then we go to dinner?” you tease, your voice and scent dripping with arousal again at the sight of his cock.

The elevator dings again, this time emitting a longer chime that means it’s stopped on your floor. He grins, kissing you deeply before lifting you off of the desk, grabbing the moving boxes for you, and sliding them into the conference room housing your other things just outside the door.

“Ready when you are bunny,” he says, grabbing your hand as you walk out of the office together, your gift box and your bag the only things you’re carrying.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, looking over the interior before you turn to Sukuna, a sad smile on your lips. You sigh, sitting down your bag and dropping his hand to open the gift box, taking out the tequila bottle and accompanying shot glasses to pour a shot for both of you.

Sukuna takes a glass from you, helping you balance the large alcohol bottle by holding up the bottom end as you top off the drinks.

“Okay,” you sigh, thinking over your words for a moment before deciding. “To new beginnings, and the start of something great,” you grin, tapping your glass against the alpha’s when he agrees, knocking back the smooth shot of liquor with ease.

“To new beginnings, and earning your love.”

thank you for reading! if you'd also like a piece commissioned, head over to my ko-fi to check out my deals & commission terms ₍₍ ◝(●˙꒳˙●)◜ ₎₎ crossposted on ao3: here || taglist request || network tags: @anime-central @cursedarchiveblog @hanayanetwork

[tickledpink31]

Continuing off of my first introduction of my LMK/JTTW oc, I realize that I should give her a second introduction expanding on her character as well as a summary of a story concept I had in mind. It still won't leave my head. Forgive me as I tend to ramble a lot.

Inspired by @skittlescripts and @theweepingegg,

(Omg, I just noticed that I forgot to draw her freckles)

I changed her robes because I ended not liking the silhouette of the first one. And I gave her a butterfly brooch too instead of a pendant

She goes by many names depending on who is addressing her. She’s born as Marisol Orozco-Leong, although her obsession with butterflies earned her the affectionate nickname, Mariposa, by her relatives. Historians refer to her as the Butterfly Lady, Queen of Butterflies, or Butterfly Maiden… or just Sun Wukong’s wife.

Guanyin gave her the name Liang Xiaodie after she rescued and revived her. We’ll get to that in a bit.

Her farsightedness being used as an advantage in long ranges was an idea I got from Black Butler who has the gunslinging Mey-Rin, a maid who can see from miles away.

By the end of the journey she was rewarded with a pair of functional butterfly wings to symbolize her growth in character, or more so her metamorphosis.

Her wings are based off of the Asian Swallowtail. During her time as an unwilling host to Lady Bone Demon, her wings closely resemble that of a zebra swallowtail or a tree nymph butterfly

(Yes, you read that right: LBD chose her instead of the little girl. You know, to hit Wukong where it hurts.)

I’ve been researching a lot on butterflies in Chinese culture, and I hope my resources are correct. If not, please correct me:

One thing that often comes up is that butterflies denote romantic love. There’s also the Chinese folktale of Romeo and Juliet, “The Butterfly Lovers” (this loosely alludes to Wukong and Xiaodie’s relationship)

They can even signify longevity, rebirth, and good fortune

There were also a few articles that say there are legends that depict the Bodhisattva Guanyin as a butterfly.

Here are just some illustrations of Mariposa/Xiaodie. The goal was to depict her change throughout the journey, being sent back to her time right after, and her plan to reunite with Wukong going awry when LBD interferes.

Now, for the plot. Watch me ramble even more.

The whole concept is pretty much a time loop that circles back to LMK’s modern era, and Mari experiencing the 14-year journey that was actually condensed within her 2-week coma. That's the most coherent way I could word the situation.

In an ironic twist, Mariposa is not much of a social butterfly and is more of a shrinking violet, a cocooned caterpillar if you will.

Being born and raised in Singapore and her mother having Han Chinese ancestry, Mari and her siblings all grew up on the stories of Journey to the West.

Given the fact that demons roam around freely among humans, I like to think that the events of JTTW are treated like actual historical events in LMK and not just a legend.

Now, here’s where the time loop begins:

What kicks everything off was a college program that Mari joins where students get to spend learning for a semester at sea and travelling the world

By the end of the semester, however, the ship gets caught in the storm and Mari drowns in the event.

I don’t want to explain how she got sent back to the Tang Dynasty. I mostly just want to keep that ambiguous.

While Guanyin and her disciple are out looking for the scripture pilgrim, they came across a girl who was half-dead and washed up on a shore. They revive her and nurse her back to health and find out that she has no memories.

How she got the name Liang Xiaodie, Guanyin found her surname (or one of them), Leong or 梁, stitched into her bag, but to the Bodhisattva, it read to her as Liang. (It's Mari's mother's surname. Leong is the Singaporean transliteration of Liang)

Xiaodie was chosen as her given name for her butterfly brooch and the several butterfly embroideries on her clothes.

Xiaodie slowly begins to regain her memories, mostly for basic things on surviving in the wilderness and gaining muscle memory on how to use her bow and arrows again like a master, but not enough to remember her real name or her life before.

Like with the other Pilgrims, Guanyin suggests that Xiaodie should join the scripture pilgrim. Before Guanyin leaves, she gives Xiaodie's bow the ability to summon arrows of her own will so that she may never run out of ammo.

She ends up meeting Tripitaka and Sun Wukong a little bit before Ao Lie is introduced.

Xiaodie is a bit of an odd addition to the group mostly because of her amnesia. The rest of the disciples were sent on this journey to gain redemption and enlightenment. Xiaodie doesn't have a story about her past sins as far as she knew. She went on this journey because she didn't know what else to do. She's the only other mortal of the pilgrimage and the sole woman to boot.

Xiaodie did not physically age at all during the journey. At first, she believed that it was because of the manfruit from the Ginseng Tree that Wukong fed her, but it was actually because her actual physical body was in her time healing in a hospital. Each year that passed by during the journey, only a day passes by in the modern era.

That isn't to say that the manfruit didn't affect her. Her lifespan was still extended even after waking up

Her memories came back at a snail's pace. She has dreams of being in a hospital bed and people watching over (her parents and the doctors).

In spite of her amnesia though, Xiaodie was seen as the brains of the group. Bits of amnesiac resonance come to her that are often useful when it comes to survival, such as knowing how to filter water of bacteria to drink, making soap or shampoos for hygiene, and even remembering bits of Journey to the West whenever she gets a bad feeling about their environment that they're in.

Another thing about her amnesia is how much her dialect differs from everyone else.

As Marisol/Mariposa, Xiaodie grew up speaking and writing Singaporean Mandarin and Modern Mainland Mandarin while everyone else around her uses Middle Chinese. So, it's a bit of a struggle for Xiaodie to communicate with others properly and vice versa.

On top of that, Xiaodie was not aware that she was sent centuries back for the longest time. She doesn't get why her companions don't know what cars or airplanes are or why they don't understand the slang she uses

It wasn't until near the end of the journey did she regain all of her memories and finally understands her time travel situation. It ended making her more reluctant to stay in the past much to Wukong's dismay.

At the end of the journey, Xiaodie and Wukong planned to get married, but with Xiaodie's reluctance and homesickness lingering, a swarm of butterflies takes her away, and she disappears in front of the pilgrims' eyes.

Wukong, devastated, was quickly informed that Xiaodie did not belong to this century, and had to be sent back to her family. The best thing Wukong could do for now is wait for her correct era to come around, which will roughly be 1400 years give or take.

Back in the modern era, Mari wakes up from her coma thinking everything was just a dream, but something feels off...

Everything she felt—the pain, the joys, and the experiences she went through felt real. She feels as if she actually hadn't spoken to her family in 14 years, and she feels like an older person stuck in a younger body.

Most of all, she feels as if she's lost something, or someone.

It wasn't until the butterfly wings appeared on her back that gave her the confirmation that she really did go on the journey for the scriptures and that her feelings for Wukong were indeed real

So, off we go. Mari makes a plan to go to China and find Wukong herself, and she lands herself in the coastal city of Megapolis. There she finds out that the Monkey King has a successor.

However, life sure loves to throw a wrench in her plans when the Lady Bone Demon escapes her prison and takes Mari's body as a host

She was the perfect host. How could the Monkey King ever want to hurt someone he's waited for so long?

Will Sun Wukong go through with the pain of possibly losing his beloved? Will the Mari find a way to break free of her possession? Find out next time on whatever shit I post next.

[minshookie]

CEO!BTS Reaction to:

You flinching during an argument.

| !warning! | violence, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationship, yandere Bts, choking and sexual topics 18+, dubcon, oral [fem receiving & giving], strong language [Jimin has a potty mouth!!!] rough play.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

| Requested [requests open]

A/N | the amount of time I’m taking to get these request done correctly is embarrassing i apologize. I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a whole reaction and that it’s not fluffy...lmk if you’d like me to change it I certainly will.

Forgive me for mistakes, though this is edited.

Kim Seokjin...

“Ok well what was that out there?” He spoke ominously back turned to you. “I- we-.” Laughing at your lack of response, he cut you off. “You fucked up that’s what it was hun.”

“Come sit on the desk, I want to see you apologize for making me look like an idiot.” He spat the last part like it was disgusting on his tongue. Already in deep trouble you decided to follow directions for once.

Turing smoothly in his office chair, you could see the resentment in his eyes. “Go on.” You swallowed thickly, his angered glare drying your throat. “I’m sorry for....correcting you during today’s meeting.” He scoffed, “there was nothing to correct!”

“Jin you can’t always be right, if you took that agreement, you’d never hit anything close to pro-” “who’s the boss? Hm? Who’s name is on this desk you have your tight ass planted on?” Mistakingly you let your eyes roll out of pure annoyance.

“Well excuse me?!” He leans forward quickly out of his chair, causing you to fall opposite of him. Pens poke at your back, his name plaque digging into your arm. Evilly he grins in enjoyment. “Found your place yet?, you seem afraid...afraid I’d hit you?” Wide eyed you nod, trapped like a mouse under its predator. Every inch of confidence stripped as he glared deeply into you. “Good.” Before you could even process his statement, you were harshly distracted by his rough hand landing across your cheek. Your head turns the other way as your right cheek tingles and burns. Chuckling he grips your chin forcing you to look at him.

“Find your place, and if you’ve forgotten it, I can help you find it...just like that,anytime.”

Min Yoongi...

Watching in envy, you pushed miscellaneous papers into the shredder. What a bitch! You saw her watching Yoongi all day just waiting for him to go to his office. So she could prance in there, thong up her ass, low cut shirt...the works.

“Yah! Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Jumping in fear , peeking down you found out what you’ve been shredding. He shoved you to the side turning off the shredder. “All those papers we needed for next week’s evaluation and review meeting...” you looked from the shredder back to him shrugging nonchalantly. Already having Somebody in your boyfriends office flirting him into hard on, the last thing you need is more work. “We’ll go fucking print some more of them.” He demanded his face stiff. Jin never liked you, maybe you’ll have Yoongi fire him.

You walked holding the last remaining sheet fully intact for reference, did Jin really think you were going to the copy room? What a dunce. Ignoring the meeting in progress light you pushed the heavy door open. “Hey y/n I’m sorry we’re in the middle of something.” You could tell he was just laughing at something a tint of red on his cheeks. Him kicking you out...this should be the other way. This hurt. “Me?” You gasped. She turned her silky hair fanning. “Y/n when we’re done I’ll come find you Alright?” She spoke a little above a whisper.“Don’t speak to me.” You glared at her walking further into the office. Obviously she’s confused about her rightful place, and Yoongi is too.

“You, get out.” She stretched her eyes looking back and forth from you to Yoongi. “Now.” “Min you can’t let her kick me out.” She scoffed, “I’ll speak to you later alright.” He smiled warmly,She got up storming from his room. “Yoongi what exactly was that?” He sat back in his chair. “A meeting.” “A meeting with what her left tit?” He closed his eyes harshly at your vulgarity. “No a meeting with your colleague about her position.” He offers the seat in front of him, gladly you take said offer.

“But what you did was uncalled for.” Laughing he leaned forward onto the table. He beacons you to follow, leaning forward you fall right into his trap upset he gripped your face making your cheeks squish. “Don’t ever come back in my office acting this way again, understood?” Nodding the best you could. “Huh? Understood?” “Yeah!” He let go leaving a ache in his wake. Before going back he reached for you again instinctively you pull back as if he was going to strike you. “Hm, I don’t treat you that harsh but I will...keep testing me.” He finished, only coming close to fix your hair.

Kim Namjoon...

Another day held the same daily routine, wake up Joon, cook breakfast, clean get dressed and head to work, work, eat lunch in Joon’s office, work,go home, and restart.

Today Joon had lunch delivered, practically throwing his money like confetti paper, much to the delight of his employees. Both of you sat on the floor of his office, enjoying the home style take out in silence. Without noticing all your attention was being absorbed by your phone. “What’s so intriguing kitten?” Your fingers stopped in their place “just texting a friend.” You looked at him through your lashes before going back to typing. He closed his take out container, he finished his meal and sneakily proceeded onto yours. Surprised by your lack of protests he spoke again.

“Oh yeah? And whose this friend?” He mumbled still chewing. “Someone I might know?” You nodded in response, unsatisfied he got up going to wash his hands in his office restroom. “Their name would be helpful y/n.” Just from his tone alone you could tell he was nearing impatience. “He works here, I’m just helping him...explaining how the log in system works he’s locked out at the moment.”

Joon no longer cared for their name and you knew it. “Oh ‘he’?” You nodded, he came drying his hands with his initialed towels. “New guy...Choi?” You looked up fully for the first time in a while. “Yeah, Soobin.” He nodded,Sitting in his desk turning to some papers. Nothing left to say you looked back down at your massages. “I’d like you to eat though, I don’t want you going hungry.” He ordered you around like a father and you obeyed.

Chewing, you almost choked as Soobin sent a joke that you weren’t ready for. Joon raised a brow, “a funny one huh? Let me see.” He looked down at you hand out flat. Your eyes went doe, there is no way your letting Joon read this vulgar joke. Soobin would be out of a job just as quick as he got one. “C’mon let me see, don’t make me take it.” Maybe he’ll laugh about it too, you gave up the device.

At first he squinted before his eyes grew wide. “ ‘This copy machine looks like the one from those cheesy office pornos....let’s make one?’ Y/N this is who you’re waisting your time on?” Rolling your eyes you went back to your meal, annoyed he didn’t find the harmless joke amusing. “Joon he was joking, it’s not like he knows I’m dating someone.”

You felt wind brush past you and a crashing sound occurred from behind, startled you made eye contact. “I had half the mind to throw that piece of shit at your head.” His angered expression taking you aback, you must’ve forgotten Joon is the extremely jealous type. “Go get it, bring it back to me.” Slowly turning trying not to take your eye off of him, you retrieved the shattered phone. Harshly he took it from your hands. Tapping before turning it to you, “block him.” You flinched at his sudden hand movement. “Don’t flinch away from me, block the bastard, before I’m the one bending you over the copy machine.”

Jung Hoseok...

Slouching in the pool chair you observed as the other women splashed and paddled around like children. You don’t usually go to these types of things, and neither does Hoseok. But this time it was important, he was here solely to kiss butt with his new business partners.

He practically forced you to put on your swimsuit, fully planning on walking you around like a show dog for the evening. Crossing your legs you brought your straw to your lips. You’d planned on getting in the pool, but apparently you weren’t good enough for the other wives...or affairs in the pool at the moment.So to spare the embarrassment you decided to watch.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hoseok came behind you patting your head softly. “Hm I guess.” You placed your drink away. “Hobi I’m ready to go. home.” You pouted, his hand still on the chair he came to your side. “Home? We’ve just got here an hour ago.” Nodding at his true statement you turned to look at him. “Yeah...and now I’m ready to go home.” Rolling his eyes he squatted to your level. “C’mon baby, go make a friend in the pool, splash around yeah?”

“No, I’m tired.” He groaned putting his head on your shoulder. “Y/n, boo don’t be a brat, you wanna go inside, wanna find a bed for you?” “Hm will you stay with me?” He looked over his shoulder, “ah Bruce wants to talk cuts and coverage a bit more, I can show you to a ro-” “nooo hobi!”

Panicking he pinched you to lower your volume. The party in the pool ceased and all eyes were on you. You’d learned how to cheat the system,It usually didn’t take much pouting from you to get your way. “c’mon get up.” He pulled me roughly by my forearm almost making you trip over your feet. He pulled you into the spacious home, up the stairs and into a hall. “Here let’s go in this room hobi.” You could tell by the look on his face hobi didn’t come to rest.

“Do you get off on making me look like an idiot?” He spoke close to your face. “Hey, I told you i wanted-” he covered your mouth with his large hand. “I don’t give a fuck what you want, now shut up and get in that fucking room.” Meekly you followed his order. “I’m sorry hobi.” “Ah I said shut up!” You stood in the middle of the decretive room, “down.” Down on your knees before him he looked down disgusted.

“Now make my cock hard so I can teach you how to use your loud ass mouth correctly.” Hesitantly you leaned forward, he groaned loudly reaching for you making you backwards in response. “Quickly, and don’t you dare run away.” He grabbed your hair, now under his full control.

Kim Taehyung...

“Mm how does it feel being my right hand lady?”

“Well seems like I’m on top of you right now.”

“I love how smart you are baby.”

Taehyung had recently promoted you to his secretary, now you can’t help but be in his office all day. Dreamily he looked up into your eyes as you straddled him. “Round 2 huh?” He huffed making you giggle, “let’s not indulge Taetae.” You nipped at the shell of his ear, he gripped your ass tightly. “What else do you have to do, I distributed your work along all the employees you’re here to have fun!”

“Well the phone has been ringing like crazy let me answer at least one call!” You climbed off, your skirt still scrunched around your waist your panties to the side. “Ahhh the baby wants to feel like a big woman go on answer.” Smiling with accomplishment, you picked up the phone. “Hello this is y/n y/l/n, answering for Kim Taehyung.” It was actually another secretary on the line you took notes as he spoke. You felt so responsible you knew Taehyung would be proud, you looked over to see his approval only to find him not there.

Confused you held conversation, until you felt something warm glide along your thigh making you Yelp. “Ah I’m sorry, Mr Lee, repeat that?” In fear you looked under your desk, mischievously Taehyung winked at you. You went back to the conversation, as he lapped your heat. You were already so sensitive you wouldn’t last a minute more of this. “Stop it please Tae.” You hissed pressing the phone to your chest. He did the opposite, penetrating you with his longest digit. Curling his finger and assaulting your clit, if the lewd sound of slurping could be heard by you you knew it could be heard over the phone. Quickly you hung up, very upset you squeezed his head between your thighs.

“Cumming baby?” “No, quitting.” He pulled back confused “what?” You fixed you panties, pulling your skirt back over yourself. “I asked you to let me do one thing, and still you couldn’t keep off of me.” He crawled from under your desk. “Who was on the phone?” He asked dryly, you looked over your notes. “Mr Lee.” “Oh, he calls everyday for his boss they have nothing to offer so we have nothing to give.” You nodded making a note to avoid his calls. “Anything else?” He shook his head going back to his desk with a deep sigh.

Oh good grief, you huffed falling back into your chair, you’ve gotten upset with him and now he’s going to mope around. “TaeTae, please understand I do actually want to work, we’ve talked about this.” You spun your chair to look at him, he looked at you inquisitively. “Maybe you should go back downstairs, I don’t want to distract you.” You could feel your eyes stretching. “Tae! No it’s not that serious.” “No no, your cubicle is still empty, the largest one.” You crossed your arms. “You’ll get the raise you just won’t be here honey...maybe I’ll offer the position to Sana.” He turned from you to go in his computer. “No, I’m not going.” “Bye Y/n see you tonight.” He mumbled nonchalantly.

“No Taehyung.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Stop being hard headed, go fetch Sana for me will you....love you.” “No kim Taehyung, this is MY job!” The phone rung and you picked it up, “hello this is-” He came pulling the phone from you slamming it to hang it up you flinched harshly. “Y/L/N, I won’t ask you agin, get out or do what I promoted you here to do.” He looked into your eyes devilishly. You complied removing your skirt, playtime was over, you sadly knew your place. “Perfect girl.”

Park Jimin...

“I’ll beat your ass come here. Now.” You stood in his office doorway, fear quaking over you. “Y/n...now.” he leaned on his desk looking you up and down. You walked in to what seemed to be your demise. “The door, close it, lock it.” “Mr Park please.” He got up walking behind you and slamming the door before walking in front of you again. “Where the fuck! Were you.” You looked at him, head fogged unsure of an answer. “I-I Mr Park...I’ve been here at work since 3 AM actually...before you got here.” He laughed lightly.

“I didn’t want your schedule, I know your damn schedule, the meeting today’s meeting.” You toyed with your fingers, “OH...oh Mr Park I forgot you needed me I’m sorry h-how did it go?” “We fucking lost the deal, the information you dug up is what we needed and you were somewhere in LaLa land.” He dug his hands into his hair. “C‘mere.” He sat on the leather couch that decorated his office. “Please Mr Park, I’ll stay late and I’ll beg for another meeting date.” He shook his head “no, c’mere.” You stood still pleading with your eyes. “I’ll drag you by your cheap blow out, bring your ass here.” You shuffled to him, he pulled your dress bending you over his knee.

He pulled your dress up, “Mr Park what will your wife say?” You began to tear up, why would he choose you to give his violent love to. “Ha, she’ll say “fuck me harder” later tonight why?” You shook your head refusing to respond. “Look into the mirror.” You obliged. He pulled his hand up just stoping before it hit you causing you to shudder a jerk violently. “ Do you fear me y/n?” You nodded almost sobbing. “I’ve trained you well...head up...be a big girl.”

Jeon Jungkook...

The whole building was draped in a gloomy mood as Jungkook stalked about looking for something to nitpick. Earlier today you and Jungkook had a falling out on the way to work about how close you were getting with one of your male coworkers. And said coworker that just happened to be your cubicle neighbor. He rounded your area multiple times, chastising said coworker, sending him on errands and putting him down again and again.

Seeing how it was affecting the newbie, you finally turned to Jungkook. “Mr Jeon, can I speak to you.” “No.” He turned quickly before going back to chastise the frightened employee. “Slip up again, and I’ll make sure you’re looking at a deep fryer for the rest of your life Kang.” He whispered just loud enough for you to catch it.

“Mr Jeon please, for a minute.” He clears his throat leaving your area. Your face grew hotter by the minute, you got up going to talk to your distraught friend. “Hey, listen he’s all bark and no bite what do you need help with?” You smiled warmly remembering how it felt to be new in a place like this.

“Well every time I answer the phone and start the question pro-” a heavy hand lands on his and your shoulder “who said this was a social hour y/l/n” a sigh came from deep inside of you. “ Damn it Kookie-” “who? Excuse me?” His eyes widening. “Jungkook- Jeon- I’m sorry...I’m sorry Mr Jeon.” He eyed the two of you “hm...kang get to work, y/l/n you too.” He began to walk away. “Y/n I’ll send you an email, I really need help on this.”

“Email her I dare you.” You spun in your chair “Mr jeon please! He’ll never get better if I don’t.” He rolled his eyes taking off his glasses, “what was he trained for if he can’t use the damn computer?” Everyone in the office was watching the dispute. “Pft I was trained on any of this! I had you holding my hand the whole way why can’t he?” He started waking the other way, his face glowing crimson. “Get in my office, now y/n.” You sat turning to your work. “No Jeon. I won’t.” “Y/n you can come to my office, or clock out and go home for the rest of the damn month.” All eyes on you like this was some cheesy tv drama, you got up following him.

Once in the safety of his four walls you stood hands on your hips “why kookie, why you being a Jackass?” He turned to face you, anger evident. Swiftly he pulled you by your shirt “talk to me like that outside of this office space the way you did today one more time, and you’ll be begging me to fire you. Yeah?” You nodded earning a open palm slap to your cheek, “yeah? Open your slutty mouth like you did for Kang, am I understood?” “Yeah kookie.” Another slap, your cheek began to burn. “Yes Mr Jeon.” He lifted his hand making you flinch in his grip. “Lovely girl, now get out there, and leave Kang alone or else.”

[juniorgman187]

Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.” 

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today 

Grant: don’t need to. 

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 

“Who keeps texting you?” 

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!” 

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 

“No one.” 

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 

“No, sir.” 

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 

“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 

This war was far from over. 

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied. 

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 

What you feel. 

I clung onto those words. 

What was I really feeling? 

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _ 

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 

“A dating app, actually.” 

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.” 

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 

He felt sorry for me. 

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 

But I should’ve. 

_ _ _ 

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.” 

_  _ _ 

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 

You deserve more than that. Much more. 

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 

“I asked you first.” 

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 

“What? What is it?” I urged. 

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 

That never came. 

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 

“Always, trouble.” 

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 

_ _ _ 

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 

She was my priority. 

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 

She was so cold. 

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 

I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _ 

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?” 

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that. 

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid 

tag not working: @gloriousmuffinempathstudent 

[kovjiro]

Out of My League - an Aran Ojiro x chubby female reader SMAU - College!AU

Synopsis: Commitment can be scary, especially when the only taste of actual commitment has come through your three best friends. An absentee father and cruel classmates can do that to you - no foundational trust in men, only sustained by male counterparts continually making fun of you for your size and weight. You’re ready for change, though, and maybe change will come; as you set out for university in a new city miles away from your horrid adolescence, change is inevitable. A chance at growth, at love, and new adventures await you in this new part of your life but, really, you’d never think to find this all with the upperclassmen you’d deemed out of your league.

Warnings (for this chapter): tooth-rotting fluff <3, written portion below the cut (Refer to masterlist for a complete list of warnings for this SMAU)

Masterlist | Prev. | Chapter Two - dinner for two | Next

With those words, you were out the door - no use postponing this reunion any longer.

I mean, really, what kind of luck do you need to sleep through several missed calls and incessant pounding on your door, only to wind up dining alone with the man you’ve been in love with since middle school? The shittiest, you decide.

You know that’s not entirely true, though. Aran had been your friend way before any feelings became involved - and what a great friend he was. He had always looked out for you and even now, after not having seen each other for about a year, he’s accommodating you with no complaint.

But it’s been a year, surely any romantic feelings you’ve ever had for him are gone, right?

Oh, how wrong you are and you’re made aware of your inaptitude to assess your own feelings as you near your designated meeting spot. Through the glass doors you spot the infamous Aran Ojiro in all of his handsome glory.

Everything about him seemed foreign and familiar at the same time - from the way he confidently carried himself to the way he glowed in the evening sun. Regardless of how much of him appeared the same, there was no doubting how much he had grown in this one year apart.

Your breath catches in your throat as Aran lifts his gaze from his phone to you, your knees almost buckling from his demanding yet captivating eyes. It takes just about everything in you to not give into your heart palpitations and the giddy tickles in your stomach, the same sensations reminding you that you are still so infatuated with the man in front of you. Aran truly is a sight to behold.

The way your face heats up as he smiles at you is all-consuming, and you pray to whatever entity up above that the flush on your cheeks is not apparent to him because how the hell does this man hold so much power with his presence alone? The world may never know. May the world, however, bear witness to the way this hunk of a man completely left you starstruck, so much so that you didn’t even catch yourself stepping out to join him and almost missing the way his arms wrapped around your full figure to embrace you in a firm hug.

“Y/n,” he breathes out low and deep, a small chuckle rumbling out from within his chest. You let out a laugh of your own, his glee contagious as you parrot his name back, “Aran.”

As limbs disentangle, you catch sight of the same bright smile he greeted you with and, with the way your cheeks burn, you figure you’re cheesing just as hard and just as wide. “It’s been so long,” you say as you fully pull away from him. “Too long,” he corrects you.

Standing with him now, you can’t help but agree - it has been too long.

“Well, let’s get going, yeah?” he suggests, nodding his head in the direction you assume your dinner awaits. “They’ve got this bread bar that I know you’ll love.”

You throw your head back as you let out a laugh - why does he know you so well? “I’m sure I will. Lead the way,” you finish with a fond look on your face.

And so you both set off, exchanging warm words both reminiscing about the past and filling each other up on your time away from each other, all the while Aran guides you and keeps you close with a warm hand on your lower back. Stories are shared and laughs are barked, it feels nice to be like this with him again.

Yeah, it’s been way too long.

Credits:

You and Aran have a very affectionate relationship (so cute awww <3)

This is how it's always been between the both of you, it's good to know nothing's changed

Dinner was spent goofing off, overall a good time <3

taglist: OPEN! send an ask to be added :) AGE IN BIO PLZ

@szeonn @thatnikkixx @slutkags @roselleviennesstuff @bookiedoll @kris-1 @lucacangettathisass @serostapesweat @kiyokoism @ctrlaprilx

a/n: i personally liked this chapter a lot <3 aran is a sweetie and i love him :) how do we feel about the written portion?? i haven't written something in a LONG time so thoughts/feedback is very much appreciated (but plz be nice, im sensitive LMAO). how would y'all feel about more written parts? lmk and thanks for reading this far <3

[rip-a-dip-dip-you-potato-chip]

what have I created?

idk if yall like this, but they just exist not i guess :/

ok the the first one is Royalty AU

first things first, when I say Royalty AU, I don't mean the classic shit we've all become accustomed to. Im talking about the good old Chinese royalty! And I want to emphasize that these guys will/should be dressed in century appropriate attire. As someone thats read a handful of 'marinette, princess of china' fics from the ML Fandom, I've noticed a common trend. Marinette wouldn't be in the culturally appropriate clothes, always ballgowns. Not that there's something wrong with it, its just most of if not all these fic are set in China, so I'd expect Chinese royalty to dress as THERE dress code calls for. And since this AU takes place far in the past like, it won't make sense for any of the characters to be in royal clothing that wasn't from there region. I'm not trying to white knight/gatekeeping. Im Guyanese not Chinese. But since JTTW and Monkie Kid take place in China, it's only right. In my opinion that it. You don't have to outright agree with me.

With out of the way, it's time for that good old AU crack

- Wukong is the king of the Flower Fruit kingdom(or a different one if you'd like, again I'm only familiar with what western culture has taught me, but I'll try my hardest) 

- he’s single but rumor has it he used to/still is dating the Vigilante/thief The Six Eared Macaque

- *chants ShadowPeach violently* 

- no one know whether it true or not

- On of his wanders around the kingdom he finds an abandoned baby in a basket. 

- and no shit sherlock it's fucking baby Xiaotian 

- I think we all know where this is going because i'm a simp for Monkey Dad & Monkie Son shenanigans

- Xiaotian becomes prince

Shit, ill be referring to Xiaotian as Mk from now on, I mentioned this before in a fic I wrote for lmk that Mk's a nickname for Xiaotian for some reason- wait i don't have to explain my self to you people!

- Sun loves his son

- MK is treated differently by staff and others because he's not blood related to the king

- no one mistreats MK per say, because there King loved his adopted son, but words are said behind his back

- Sometimes MK hears what’s said, and he feels as if he won't live up to his dad’s legacy.

- He meets Mei during a festival

- Mei is from a noble family, that wouldn't mind if they got a connection into the royal family.

- but it becomes hella clear to Mei’s family very fast that the two are just friends, and will always will be. but hey there daughter is bffs with the prince so that's a plus.       

_

- the Demon Bull Family is rules a kingdom as well, I dont/am not creative enough to think of a name I leave that to you.

- It's a common misconception that DBK is a tyrant, when he’s not. 

- most of the time...

- they have been at war with the Monkey King for some time now and settled for a peace agreement.

- that agreement being there sons to marry

- oooo original i know

- MK and Red Son are roughly the same age, Mk being 20 and RS 22

- RS is revolted/disgusted at the idea of being wed to the Monkey Kings child, even more so when he realizes MK is adopted,

- but, that all changes the second he meets MK while he meets him by accident when he gets kinda lost in the palace when he and his parents go to discuss the arrangements.

- the second he looks at MK, he's instantly in love. MK less so, he's nervous and honestly kinda bummed he's not marrying someone he loves but it's for the good of his ppl, and he'll do anything for them.

- RS isn't even aware that MK is Suns adopted son until MK walks him back to the meeting room.

"Oh There you are MK! I was about to have a servant go fetch you!" Sun Wukong says, gesturing for his boy to come sit with him.

"S-sorry for keeping you waiting I got caught up in my lessons with Mr. Tang" MK responds, sitting next to his father. Red Son looked gobsmacked. The beautiful young man he had bumped into, was the prince of this land? Damn, life truly blessed him. Or cursed him depending on how you looked at it.

- the two are left alone in a separate room for a while.

- And MK straight up tells RS why he's agreeing to this union.

"Look Red Son. I've dreamed about meeting my one true love for a while. And I would give almost anything for that dram to be real. But I wouldn't ever dare give up my people, for as there price they mean more to me. I'm doing this for them, no other reason" MK says, his back straight and hands folded neatly in his lap. The look in his eyes was a mix of sadness, but that was drowned out by loyalty and determination. It just made Red Son fall for him even harder. Clearing his throat Red spoke.

"I understand, for im doing this for the betterment of my people to. But I propose a wager"

"A wager?"

"Yes, if i can make you fall in love with me by years end, before our marriage, we can live together like in the fairy tales from far away. But if I fail, in a years time afterwards you will be permitted to find your own path in life" Red Son stated. MK took a moment to process what was happening.

"So, if you succeed in making me fall in love with you, before our marriage we can live happily ever after?" Red Son nodded in response, letting the younger continue.

"And if I shouldn't fall for you, in a years time after our union, im free to leave?" Red Son nodded once more.

"So, what do you say?"

...

"Deal"

In the end, your free to choose their fate, should Red Son win the hart of Mk? Will he fail? Or will he let him go, and let him travel the country, after all Mk's a free spirit and keeping him trapped in a big house is like keeping a cannery trapped in a cage only for its song, only for it to dul. Or will the unthinkable happen and will both boys find their freedom? together or appart? I don't know, because that's all up to you 😉

personally, I’m partial to where MK and Red Son both find freedom together. Like they straight up run away together to somewhere far away and just live out there lives together. 

this could also be genderbent thing as well. MK or Red as their respective counterparts. Again it doesn't have to be, but it’s whatever bro. im just spitting out the idea. 

Also, there is a main side plot that they fight the WBS throughout the year as well, along with other shenanigans you wanna throw in.

____

The second is a My Hero Academia/BNH/MHA AU

truth be told i'm not a big fan of MHA i think it to over hyped(this is also coming from the same person that’s a Fairy Tail fan lol), and the fandom i don't even know how to describe that mess, but I will admit not the whole of its toxic since every fandom has some toxic members, some even more so. 

I just sometimes find myself enjoying MHA AUs like the Fullmetal Alchemist, Danny Phantom, Evil!Deuk AU and several others. 

to make it clear I don't see this AU taking place the same time as the main plot of the actual Anime/Manga. This could be either like 6-10 years before or after the plot idk bro. But i’ll do this after the main story plot of MHA, so keep that in mind ya? another thing, the gang is still in China, the top hero school in the world just so happens to be in Japan, and it’s only ever mentioned by Sun wukong and other pro heros. So MK never attended AU. in short it’s only ever mention/ reference.  

_

- Mk was considered Quirkless as a kid. 

- he was just a late blumer, i swear  

- Mai’s Quirk is called Dragon. 

- it pretty much works the same way as it does in the show(duh)

- Tang’s got a knowledge Quirk, 

- my man can retain information and he’s basically an archive of information drawback being his personality lol 

- Piggsy is a Animal that gained a Quirk

- in cannon to my current knowledge, there are two other characters that can confirm animals can become sentient. the characters being Fumikage Tokoyami, & Nezu the principal at the school UA.  

- Sandy is just Conner Kent, aka he like superman but can't fly, or shoot lasers from his eyes. And blue.  

I have two scenarios for Macaque and Wukong  

*- The first one is that, Sun Wukong & Macaque are brothers. twins to be exact. 

- they where legit people, but have mutation quirks that made them too like monkeys. 

- the added powers were just a boues. 

- Sun and Mac are close growing up, like there brothers but also best friends.

- the draw back to there quirks could honestly be whatever you want bro idk, same with the others tbh. Personally I like to think Sun just has lack of motivation, and Macaque needs to draw on other people's energy.

- Sun is a hero, Monkey KIng and Mac is a villain Six Eared.

- Sun was always treated has the golden child in the family, Mac always resented that, but there shitty up bring didn’t stop the two from being good brothers to one another.

- soon tho the resentment became hatred when Sun was able to attend UA in Japan, while Mac didn't.

- Mac be angy 

- so he became a villain, and joined the Chinese branch of the LOV(league of villains)

- Sun doesn't know this till he finds out during the all out war during the main story. and by that time he’s a full on hero with is own agency(The Flower Fruit agency)    

- when the hero's ultimately win and Mac is arrested 

- This ultimately hurts Sun a lot, his brother was in jail now, arrested for his involvement and wrong doings, he knew nothing about this! this brother, his blood. A bad guy? why? he hadn't seen his brother since he left for UA, he hadn’t seen him when he came home, and started his agency. 

- this just puts Sun into a funk so he’s not as active as he used to be, and he starts thinking he might need a successor 

*- The second one is that they were two separate people that had similar quirks and both attended UA but Sun ended up in the hero corse. so 1A.

- Both Macaque and Sun have similar quirks, Sun’s is obviously more light based while Macaque’s is more shadow based(this applies to the first one as well)    

- Macaque was placed in class 1B, U.A.’s High's Heroics Department, I believe, you can correct me. 

- In cannon Class 1A and 1B both went to the training camp. I can see the teachers pinning Sun and Macaque against each other to hone their skills. 

- And because of that they become great friends    

- In fact when they graduate they both co-found there hero agency together in China and are a duo.

- But due to Monkey King’s popularity and Six Eared's association with shadows(people sometimes saying he has more of a villains quirk than a heros) the public see’s Macaque as Sun’s sidekick when thats far from the truth. 

- now it’s up to you whether you think that Wukong and Macaque would be in a relationship together, but knowing how cooked we all are, ShadowPeach is a thing here more than likely. 

- If you do or don’t support/ like the ShadowPeach aspect, the two would be living together regardless since its more cost efficient. 

- They my be heroes but living costs are expensive!   

- I would imagine there would have been a huge fight/argument between the two in privet of course, at there home.(or in there shared office if you want the extra angst of the other people they work with hearing them fight)   

- If the two are dating, then this would either lead to an out right breakup, or Macaque just up and leaving with Wukong thinking he’ll come back once he’s cooled off. But after a week, with no sign of his partner, or him answering texts or calls, not even coming into work. Wukong gets worried that something might have happened to him. so there wouldn't be a confirmation if they were still a thing or not. 

- But Wukong remains hopeful, despite the nagging at the back of his head, and gut telling him to go find Macaque, or atleast make a public statement, or even just tell another pro hero about it.   

- on the not so shippy side, Macaque and Wukong still have there argument, and much like the ShadowPeach esc side, Macaque up and leaves, and isn't seen for weeks. the only difference here is that when Wukong comes home one night to there flat, most if not all of Macaques stuff is gone. 

- where as if this was the ShadowPeach side, Macaque leaves all of his possession in the flat he and wukong share. for the simple reason being, he still loves him and wants to go back, but Macaque being Macaque can’t bring himself to do it, especially after seeing just how hurt Wukong looked when he yelled at him just before he left.  

- in other words, ANGST DIALED UP TO A 10 BABY  

- in either case, its a news report that confirms Wukong's suspicions that he desperately didn’t want to believe, and that is Macaque turning into a villain.

- much like if the two were brothers, Wukong just can’t take it and is no longer as active as he once was, and is thinking about, either A) Retirement  B) Saying, “Fuck Society, Be Gay Do Crime” and join Macaque as a villain himself, or C) find a successor, and a way to bring Macaque back to there side, but most importantly, back to him.    

- also extra points if you're after people's hearts and want to make them suffer;  - If there dating, Wukong curle’s up in the bed he and Macaque shared, holding/wearing something of great value to Macaque and just crying himself to sleep, where as Macaque is getting wasted on alcohol, as he stumbles out of the bar he’s in, he either see’s something that reminds him of Wukong or while he’s trying to put his wallet back into his pocket, a photo of them on their first date fall’s out. and Macaque just cries in a nearby alley way. And it’s there where he gets indoctrinated into the League.

       - If there just friends, macaque heads to the nearest forest and just levels it, where as Wukong just gets engrossed into his work, trying not to think about it. you could add you own spin on this, again i'm just spitballing.             

- NOW BACK TO MK! :D     

- Obviously MK is a huge Monkey King fan     

- at Twenty MK has come to terms he's quirkless (HE’S NOT)

-for ANGST reasons MKs fokes kicked him out at this realization at 13.

- he works at Piggsy's Noodle shop, and has been since he was 14.

- don't need a quirk to drive or cook!

- the boy lives a content life with his new family, till DBK happens :D

- DBK runs a Mafia(in conjunction with TLOV) and has been in jail for like 5 years thanks to Monkey King, PIF and RS brake him out one night when MK's out making a late night delivery since Piggsy had the bright idea to go 24/7 service!

- one thing leads to another and Mk somehow manifest what looks like the Monkey King's staff, but its not, it’s MKs powers, it just so happens to be the same power the Monkey King has. And it practically goes down the same way in the pilot. 

- but unlike the pilot Mk and Mei go straight to the FF Agency, after making a panicked call to Pigsy and Tang.

- one way or another Mk are lead into Wukongs office. Mei being forced to stay in the lobby.

- they have there convo, butterfly monkey squishing included.

- "And so, I want you do be my success-" BOOM 💥

- from there they rush downstairs and see that the lobby has been infiltrated by the DB fam, and you know fight.

- once the DB family seems like there down, PIF wisks them away. Much to Monkey King’s displeasure.

From there stuff kind plays out like cannon, the calabash ep is just a conjoint quirk the Demon bros have. As for EP9, ill have to script that one out myself lol. I'll get onto it as soon as my will to commit stabs me in the face. Till then have a dancing Kermit the frog.

Now if you'll excuse me, am about to Kermit a felony :D

(For legal reasons thats a joke)

Psst @writingamongther0ses its done

[tamakeey]

there are children present (pt. 2)

doctor! ushijima wakatoshi x doctor! reader

a/n: yeah, there’s probably gonna need to be a part three because I have a lot of ideas and it’s too much to put all into part two sorry :(( but lmk if you’re interested in part three :))

so it's been a little over a year since y/n has been working at the clinic

still as popular as ever with the children due to her caring and gentle nature

ushijima is still ushijima (the same tall, stoic face doctor that scares the children until they realize he’s nothing but a softie)

their feelings for each other: yeah they’re still growing bigger than atsumu’s ego (or at least cutting it close)

the two doctors: still as oblivious as ever, never noticing the subtle hints they throw at each other (it’s mainly y/n throwing the hints though, ushijima never catches them causing his red headed counterpart to slam his head against the wall

the nurse trio continue to pick on their assigned doctors for not making any big moves

and when their doctor refuse to reveal their feelings, what do they do?

of course they rant to one another about their struggles in bringing to two doctors, who were smart enough to graduate medical school and pass residency but cannot confess for the life of them, together

“I swear waiting for them to confess is like watching paint dry” -semi

“SEMI SEMI USHIJIMA REFUSES TO CONFESS AND I SWEAR IM GOING BALD FROM THE STRESS”-tendou

kawanishi truly believes that he may graduate with his nursing degree, pass his board exams, and get his license and a permanent position at the clinic before they can even mutter the words “I like you” to one another

their feelings are so obvious the receptionists, reon and yamagata has caught on and take every second they see two walk into work together to make comments on how cute of a couple they would be 

it flusters y/n but ushijima keeps his stoic face and replies with “we’re just friends” (even though he’s blushing internally) 

moral of the story is, their feelings are painfully obvious to everyone except the two doctors

so it’s another typical day in the pediatrics center

y/n typing away at her cubicle while semi and kawanishi complains about her lack of courage 

“just confess to him please, it’s getting painful for all of us” kawanishi says bluntly while hitting his head against the cubicle wall, already knowing what the doctor was going to say

“no, he doesn’t like me that way, I don't know why you all keep insisting that he does” y/n replies with a semi mouthing the exact words she says after hearing everyday for the past six months

“do you not hear tendou screaming in distress everyday and screeching about how ushijima is as dumb as a brick” kawanishi asks 

“I thought he was inferring to ushijima’s lack of social awareness, which is adorable but also very dangerous in this field” y/n replies

“how are you a doctor but you’re so dumb?” semi asks rhetorically

“do you tune out the half where tendou is complaining ushijima’s love life and how he has the chance for it but isn’t taking it. he even shouts your name in there most of the time, what’s not clicking?” kawanishi rants

“look I'm too nervous to make the first move with ushijima and I cannot read his emotional 100% of the time, so confessing is out of the question. now there’s a patient coming in five minutes and you two have to do your typical nurse routine before I go in so hop to it” y/n spews out

typical nurse routine in case it was unclear: take height and weight, check patients blood pressure and ears, and record their temperature and reason for being in the office and such

semi and kawanishi grumble as they sanitize their hands and walk out of the office area

y/n takes a deep breath and slouches down in her chair as she begins to think of the conversation she just had with her troublesome nurses

after a few minutes of contemplating their words, the two nurses return with the file report of the patient, signaling the female doctor’s need in the examination room

as y/n makes her way to the examination room, she runs into ushijima who came rushing into the pediatrics center

“what has you rushing?” y/n asks an exasperated ushijima

“I was almost late since I was coaching shirabu today but it went a little more overtime than how I originally planned the session. also, we spent a good time waiting for his friend to show up only to find out they had to take a raincheck because the kid has a doctor’s appointment today” ushijima replied

“oh I see, well I need to get to a patient right now but I'll catch up with you after” y/n says 

ushijima gives her a nod and a pat on the head before rushing to the office to hopefully clock in on time

as y/n knocks on the door, she opens it to find a little boy with a bowl cut sitting on the examination table fiddling with his fingers

if bowl cut did not give it away, it’s our favorite rock lee look alike and if that didn’t help any it’s goshiki :) 

the toddler look up upon hearing the door open up and begins visibly shaking because doctor visits are scary

“hello goshiki, my name is dr. y/l/n and I heard you’re not feeling the greatest today, wanna tell me what’s wrong” y/n asked the boy gently, crouching to his height

goshiki hesitates on answer and sits silently while mumbling too quietly for y/n to hear

“I'm sorry sweetie, I couldn’t hear you? could you speak up, I promise I won't hurt you. I’m here to help you feel healthy and strong again!” y/n explains, trying to get the poor frightened boy to open up

“my friend and I were playing volleyball the other day and when he served the ball, it hit my head really hard and everything went black” goshiki says 

“I'm just worried if it he may have a concussion so I took him in” goshiki’s mother continues causing the doctor to nod and examine goshiki’s head

I see, so we are going to have to run a couple cognitive tests but from the looks of it, I think it may just be a bruise” y/n asserts causing the poor boy to shake at the word tests

“don’t worry, we do not need to do any shots or blood test. it’s just little memory things, unless you want an MRI scan to be 100% sure. but from what I see, I don’t believe it is a concussion” y/n continues

goshiki looks at his mom silently begging her not to make him take the scary test to which she replies that an MRI would not be necessary to goshiki’s relief

“well then goshiki, you ready to play some brain games. do your best!” y/n encourages the boy causing him to get fired up 

because she had him at games

‘OKAY!” goshiki exclaims bouncing on the examination table

y/n begins to grab cards with little picture on them and handed them to goshiki to begin memorizing 

she would test him after giving him 5 minutes to study the cards

little did she know, tendou decided that April fools would come early this year and decided to put a picture of ushijima within the cards 

just for shits and giggles you know 

tendou’s line of thinking you ask why not fluster y/n while she's caring for a patient, that would be hilarious 

after five minutes of goshiki studying the cards, he hands them back to y/n

“okay goshiki, can you name at least five of the cards out of the ten that I gave you?” y/n asks, still unaware of the picture of the giant doctor

“blanket, bed, apple, chair, and penguin” goshiki recites

y/n looks at the first five cards to see goshiki had named them in order

“perfect, do you think you can do all ten?” y/n encourages

goshiki nods excitedly and continues

“bear, flower, water, ball, and ushijima” goshiki says, eyes sparkling at the last word

y/n visibly jumps, her cheeks turning red

“wait a minute, dr. ushijima is not one of the card options” y/n questions

“yes he was, his picture was the tenth card I studied” goshiki says innocently

y/n begins vigorously going through the cards she handed goshiki only to see the little bowl cut boy was correct

 the tenth card was in fact a photo of the tall, stoic doctor

goddammit tendou y/n thinks in her head, knowing it was for sure his doing

“I'm impressed that you got all ten but how did you know that was dr. ushijima?” y/n asks curiously

need I remind you, y/n’s face is as red as tendou’s hair 

“he's my favorite volleyball player in the whole entire world, I wanna be an ace just like him. I was going to play volleyball with him today but mommy said I have to go to the doctors” goshiki explains, his face visibly deflating when mentioning his missed opportunity

“I see, goshiki do you mind waiting in here for like 5 minutes for me. I need to print your papers to take home but my printer isn’t working in here?” y/n asks politely while goshiki nods

y/n takes her leave and makes her way to the office room where she sees ushijima looking at paperwork, sitting in his cubicle

“ushijima-san, can I borrow you for a few minutes?” y/n pops her head in his cubicle and politely asks him 

ushijima nods while throwing his paperwork on his desk

“it’s a small world I swear. my current patient was the child you were supposed to coach today. he apparently is a huge fan of you and was super sad that he missed an opportunity to meet his idol” y/n explains 

ushijima catching where y/n was going with his nodded and opened the office door for y/n, signaling her to lead the way to the patient’s room

“you don’t have a patient coming in soon do you?” y/n asks, concerned that she’s putting him off schedule

“I don't have a patient coming in for another hour, so it’s fine” ushijima replies

soon they make it in front of the examination room

of course the three troublemaking nurses are staring at them behind a wall thinking what’s going on for them to be going into a room together

I tried finding a reference picture but scary pictures popped up and now I'm scared but basically it’s like one head on top of another, if you can find it lmk I think I'm searching up the wrong thing

y/n knocks on the door to goshiki’s room and then walks in with ushijima following behind her, but he’s hidden by the curtain

“hi goshiki, there’s someone I would like you to meet” y/n says which ushijima took as a cue to come out from behind the curtain

when I tell you goshiki squealed, he screamed so loud, washijou could hear it from his office which was on the opposite side of the pediatrics center

receptionists yamagata and reon can hear him from their little windows 

everyone in the waiting area heard it loud and clear, concerned for the child who they believed were screaming bloody murder

anyways after goshiki had his internal fanboy moment, he climbed off the examination table and ran up to ushijima, hugging his legs

“OMG ITS USHIJIMA, HE’S REALLY HERE. I LUB YOU” goshiki screaming, jumping up and down while holding onto ushijima’s khaki colored slacks

“pleasure to meet you goshiki, I heard you also love playing volleyball” ushijima answered 

“YES I LOVE VOLLEYBALL, I HOPE TO BE AN ACE JUST LIKE YOU” goshiki exclaims waving his little arms all over the place 

ushijima chuckles and y/n swears she’s never heard anything more melodic in her life

“I’m glad I inspire you to be a better volleyball player. I hope you will be able to make it to shirabu’s next volleyball lesson, I look forward to working with you” ushijima replies

“YES SIR” goshiki said bowing repeatedly 

ushijima approaches goshiki’s mother to begin working out a schedule fit for goshiki

all while y/n continues to stare at his face with a fond look

suddenly, she feels a tug on her scrub bottoms and looks down to find goshiki looking up at her with a questioning look on his face

“Dr. y/l/n, do you love ushijima-kun?” goshiki asked innocently while tilting his head to the side

this caused the female doctor to turn a bright shade of red and attempt to deny it to the best of her capabilities

waving hands

repeatedly saying no

what you think of, she probably tried it to convince baby goshiki that she had no feelings for the volleyball-playing doctor

“why are you so red dr. y/ln?” goshiki asks causing ushijima to turn around and look at her worriedly

he begins walking over to y/n and places his hand on her forehead to check for her temperature

“are you alright? are you sick perhaps? maybe you should take the rest of the day off and rest” ushijima speaks to the poor doctor who turns even redder by the minute

“no no I am perfectly fine, it’s just that I’m overheating in my white coat, nothing else” y/n responds waving her hands in fast motion

ushijima chose not to question it but goshiki could tell she was lying

I mean who gets hot in a hospital, when it’s the middle of winter

“c’mon goshiki, we have to go. we don’t want to miss your playdate with shirabu now do we?” goshiki’s mother breaks the tense air

hearing his best friend’s name, he shook out of his thoughts and nodded quickly 

“dr. ushijima, is it too much to ask for your autograph?” goshiki asks

ushijima turns to the kid and nods as if saying “I don’t mind”

ushijima takes a piece of paper out of the functioning printer and grabs a pen from the cup placed near the computer

he signs the paper, writing a little note for the baby mushroom boy

he hands it to goshiki and as he reads it, he squeals 

to my number 1 fan, thank you for your support :)

goshiki grabs his mother’s hand leaving the examination room, waving to the two doctors

not missing ushijima staring at y/n’s smile as she waves happily back to goshiki

“are you sure you’re feeling well y/l/n?” ushijima asks

“I am perfectly fine, thank you for checking up on me” y/n responds

they stare fondly at each other and begin leaning towards one another before a certain red head barges in to tell ushijima that his patient is here

“USHI YOUR 2:30 IS HERE, OH SHOOT! TAKE YOUR TIME :)” tendou screams causing the two to break apart

just a side but semi and kawanishi definitely watched the whole thing, banging their head against the wall while cursing at the stupid red head

before anyone comes for me I love tendou but they’re mad he cockblocked

“I should go see my patient” ushijima says curtly, bowing at the female doctor and making his way to the examination room his patient is currently waiting in

y/n is fanning herself while thinking about the moment she had with the handsome doctor while her two nurses are cursing out the red head

“YOU COULD’VE WAITED LIKE FIVE MINUTES, WE WERE SO CLOSE TO ENDING OUR MISERY” -kawanishi

“TENDOU YOU IDIOT I HATE YOU” -semi

I don't usually do POV changes but THIS IS NO LONGER TAKING PLACE AT THE DOCTOR’S OFFICE BUT IT’S GOSHIKI AND SHIRABU’S PLAYDATE

goshiki makes his way into shirabu’s house

he bows at shirabu’s mother before making his way to his best friend’s room

“SHIRABU, I MET USHIJIMA TODAY!!” goshiki screams

“asahi (god), can you please keep it down” shirabu responds

goshiki then explains what went down in the doctor’s office while shirabu listens intently, ears perking up at the mentions of goshiki’s female physician

“wait, what did your doctor look like” shirabu asks poking goshiki’s tummy with one of his taped fingers

goshiki goes on to explain her appearance and shirabu can suddenly picture her due to...

“oh my asahi, ushijima has her picture as his phone wallpaper and he’s always staring at it during our volleyball lessons” shirabu says to goshiki

“that’s funny because when he walked into the examination room, dr. y/l/n kept staring at him and always turned red whenever he was mentioned. do you think they’re like best friends?” goshiki asks

“no you idiot, they like each other” shirabu says, hitting his forehead at his best friend’s stupidity

“but dr. y/l/n said she doesn’t like him like that” goshiki responds

“but why would she tell her secrets, especially to some kid she just met goshiki” shirabu says, internally questioning his friendship with his fellow bowl cut mate

after arguing about it back and forth, shirabu ended their verbal dispute by throwing a volleyball nearby and effectively hitting goshiki in the forehead

pls stop the goshiki abuse, just praise the poor boy :((

“okay, forget about this arguing. but goshiki I think you know what we have to do” shirabu said smiling deviously, gears turning in his small mind

thus the children begin plotting operation: you should have come to volleyball lessons

  a/n 2: hello!! ik it’s been awhile but I’m currently having to deal with getting ready for college so there’s a lot of meetings, stress, and getting all my paper work in. the updates will be kind of slow because I want to make sure all the updates are decent in length but also has a good story line and written well (it’s probably still pretty bad but I'm trying my best) but thank you for your continuous support and I hope you're enjoying the series so far :)) <33

[berrykook]

can’t bear it (y!hs)

set in the overtime universe

in which hoseok is just trying to help you understand that he knows what’s best for you and you feel yourself start to slip

contents: yandere!hoseok, kidnapping, “gaslighting” / manipulation, vomit, gore / mutilation, good/bad little girl rhetoric

word count: 3.7k

a/n: thanks for the request !! i had fun writing it heheh

i’m tagging gaslighting in quotations because i feel like hoseok is like,, KiNdA gaslighting but pretty lightly

also idk why my mc’s always be throwing up LOL it’s just for a second i swear

my inbox is open for yandere requests! i do not write non-con, hitting (punching, slapping, etc.), or ddlg / ageplay (in this fic i included good/bad little girl rhetoric because i thought it would make hoseok seem more spooky but otherwise i do not write ageplay --- use of word daddy is ok)

lmk what u guys think!

*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ 

Your stomach softly growled as you stared down into your takeout box of noodles and studied the way the sauce doesn’t cling to some vegetables. Hoseok ordered your favorite again, but you couldn’t remember ever loving this dish. He must have been referring to the time before he brought you to live with him (an incident in which your head was hit very hard).

Hoseok stared at you like he always did, refusing to eat until he saw you take the first bite. He sat with his hands folded, watching you and your hazy mind work through dinnertime. All you had to do was pick up your chopsticks and eat, but something in you could not bring yourself to do so.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Not hungry?”

Whether it was intentional or not, Hoseok’s tone never came out of the woods. He spoke slowly in low tones as if he was always ready to pounce on you. You wondered if he spoke to his employees the same way.

You gingerly picked up your chopsticks.

“You haven’t been eating well lately. Is something wrong?” Hoseok is wringing his hands now. You began to stare back at him.

You remained silent for a long moment before saying clearly, “Yes. I don’t feel well.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue, rising from his seat across from you to sit next to you instead. He rests his hand on yours. Hoseok wasn’t overly affectionate which you were lucky for at the beginning of this relationship, but you now felt touch-starved and undesirable. He held an immense amount of power over you and he knew it too.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he mumbled, placing a palm against your forehead. “You’re not warm. I seriously doubt you’re sick, you never are. Tell me what’s wrong, please.” He leaned in closer.

You held back a huff of frustration, knowing how angry he got when you weren’t his perfect little girl. Hoseok knew exactly how to get under your skin and scare you shitless. If you weren’t careful and deliberate with every motion, every phrase, every word, he would catch on in a heartbeat and do whatever it took to show you he owned you. It only took three days in his basement for you to confess your love for him and start begging to be let out.

You fidgeted nervously, quickly glancing at the front door behind Hoseok. He hadn’t let you out in nearly six months and as much as you loved him, you were beginning to get antsy.

Hoseok was scary, but treated you well. He thoroughly explained on several occasions how much you needed him and how he loved you so deeply that it was in his very nature to keep you protected from the world like this. He even let you free from being chained in his basement after only a couple weeks, which was awesome! Hoseok never called himself your boyfriend, but you figured he was close enough. He fed you when you weren’t being bad and he recited his love for you often. It terrified you when you first met that time you woke up in his basement, but with time you found yourself believing him more and more. This was not living, but you were becoming so far gone from your past that it seemed like perhaps this sheltered life was what you were meant to receive.

Hoseok studied you deeply, noticing immediately how your eyes darted behind him at the front door. He sighed, mentally preparing himself to pull out all the stops to get the idea out of your pretty little head.

“Mm, baby, are you bored? Did you want to go outside?” He smiled a bit, stroking the back of your head and looking at you sweetly.

Immediately, you furrowed your brows and gripped his hand tighter. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“You must be tired of being cooped up in the house all day...don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

Hoseok stood up, placing a hand on your back to guide you up as well.

“H-Hobi, I don’t need to. I don’t mind staying inside…” you said bashfully, tugging his hand to lead him back into his chair.

His smile was wide like the Cheshire Cat’s. He reached to hold your face by your chin.

“No, I’m sure you must be going crazy being in here all day. Let’s go outside. Maybe you can run around a bit so your appetite can return.”

You weren’t stupid. You saw from the windows that Hoseok lived in a deep forest and made a lengthy commute each day to the city for his work. Perhaps Hoseok was feeling particularly sadistic today. You had been on your best behavior as of late - you listened well, ate when you didn’t feel ill, wore what he chose for you, told him you loved him and cuddled him and let him kiss you. His obtuseness came completely out of left field. You were the best little girl you could be - it made no sense.

“Hobi, I’m really hungry now. I would like to eat.” By the end of your statement, you were whispering fearfully as he was now leaning in close enough to kiss you.

“Don’t be silly. I saw you looking at the door. Come on,” he tugged you along, bending to tie your shoes for you.

“Hoseok, I really think I should go eat, please. I don’t want to go outside, it’ll be cold and dark and we’re in the forest, pl-”

“You know you want to leave. Don’t you? Wasn’t it only a few weeks ago you were saying you wanted to leave me?”

You’re crying now. “No! Please, I don’t want to leave, I love you, I swear! Hobi, I’ve changed!” Hoseok ignores your cries, pushing you out the front door with a smack on your ass.

“Be back in an hour, sweetheart. I don’t want the wild animals to find you.”

He slammed the door in your face and you began to hyperventilate for a moment. You knew he didn’t retreat from his spot at the door and he could clearly hear your cries. How did just looking at the door for a moment lead to this?

You spent a few minutes on your knees, bawling into your hands on the front porch. The tall forest prematurely made it nightfall at the ground level. After another few minutes, something caught your eye deeper into the woods. You stood slowly, hoping you were correct.

It was a car. A parked red van within walking distance of Hoseok’s house. Your legs moved on their own towards it. You were certain it didn’t belong to Hoseok as you kissed him goodbye from outside his black sedan each day. The drive to get away from Hoseok kicked in like a horse as you began running towards this car, desperate for help or some more information on where in the country the house was. If you were lucky, somebody would be in the car.

You were close enough to read the license plate when a searing pain shot through your leg and burned every cell in your body. You fell forward, coughing up a bit of your stomach after. You screamed for a moment, but then your body stopped taking in air effectively and you were left on the ground like a fish out of water.

You sobbed, desperately searching for a switch or button to release the contraption stuck around your ankle. Just a few yards from the car, chained to a tree was a steel bear trap that you stepped into perfectly. The claws dug well into the flesh on your leg, pouring blood over the forest floor as your heartbeat became erratic. Its jaws were locked far too strongly for you to pry apart. The house was barely visible to you now as the sun set completely and you were utterly stuck by this soccer mom van in the middle of god knows where.

The clock continued to tick as your hour of “freedom” was coming to a close. You wanted to throw up again at the sight of yourself. You nearly called out to Hoseok for help, but restrained yourself quickly. He was right - he always was. He was right for keeping you inside the way he did. You couldn’t even run half a mile into the forest without getting caught in a bear trap. The clinking of metal chains reminded you of your time in Hoseok’s basement and how cold it was and how hungry you became. You were hungry now as well, even through the nausea, and you let out a sad cry as your stomach growled angrily again. If Hoseok ever saved you again, you would eat everything he put in front of you with gusto. You leaned your head against the thick trunk of the tree you were chained to and watched the bugs on the floor crawl by. Your heart twinged as you missed Hoseok after just an hour apart. You felt you were no better than the insects you were watching. 

The pain in your leg was unlike anything you had felt before. You knew it was unrealistic to die from a bear trap, but you felt like you were at the brink. You had long since given up trying to claw the trap apart, stopping when the third of your fingernails split. The blood from your ankle made its way all over the white sweater Hoseok had picked out for you that morning. Hopefully an actual bear would come by and put you out of your misery before Hoseok could come by and chastise you for getting your clothes dirty.

Eventually, you heard his voice through the trees. “Sweetheart!” His voice sang and you panicked at the thought of how angry he would be that you got yourself hurt. You saw a light coming from the direction of your house and you braced yourself to soon be found.

You didn’t have the energy to yell back at him, so you waited for him to find you instead. Hoseok was smarter than you would like to admit and he obviously already knew that you wouldn’t make it far. Yet, he took his sweet, sweet time searching for you.

Eventually, his flashlight landed on your chest and you looked away, nervous to see him. He sighed.

“Oh, baby...look what you did,” he tsked. He stood above you with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. He made a noise of disdain when your lower lip began to tremble. “Hurts, doesn’t it? I would help make it all better, but you’ve been such a bad girl lately. I thought you knew better than to go outside, but I guess you just couldn’t listen to me.”

You covered your mouth to hide your snivelling. “I’m s-so sorry!”

“I know you are, baby. See, if you listen to me and stay inside like a good girl, then these things won’t happen. What am I gonna do with you?” Hoseok bent down to face level with you, still sitting against the tree trunk shivering in immense pain. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and earlier you sure made it clear that you don’t want to be in my house with me…”

You sobbed, reaching to hold his shoulders. “No! I want to go back home and be with you. I’m sorry for being ungrateful, I just want to be with you!” Hoseok clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Is that really what you want, baby? You really want to come back and live with me?” Hoseok spoke slowly, letting you marinate in the ache of your calf. He knew you loved him. Putting you in solitary confinement for the first two months was more than enough for you to worship the ground he walks on. Some days, he just needed to tease you a little.

“Yes, please. I’m sorry, I’ll never leave you, I swear.” Hoseok stared at you with a smile before taking your face into his hands and kissing you for a long moment.

“Good. Jin-hyung is going to help you with your leg, okay?”

Hoseok fishes in his pockets before pulling out a silver key and unlocking the chains around the tree.

“Wow, baby, you must have really run into this trap for it to have closed on you so hard...we better take it out in the house.”

You stared at him in shock. “This...this trap was yours?” Hoseok smoothed the top of your head.

“Everything on this land is mine,” he hissed with a sweet smile. 

“B-but, I’ve never seen you drive this car. And why do you have bear traps!? You don’t hunt, Hoseok!” You are steadily becoming more hysterical and Hoseok sighs, hugging you to him. You holler at the pain of him shifting your leg.

“Baby, this is Jungkook’s car. You remember him, right? He’s taking his fianceè to Busan soon and they’ll need a car to hold their kids someday. He’s keeping it here because his apartment only gives him one parking space.” Hoseok kisses your cheek, rubbing your back when your crying intensifies. Ah, he’ll need to bring you back home soon before you lose too much blood. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

Hyperventilating on top of a foot caught in a bear trap had you lightheaded. You rested your cheek against Hoseok’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to get this off my foot?” You sobbed.

Hoseok cooed, rubbing your back a little harder. “I thought you knew what’s best for yourself...since you’re such a big girl and you always take ca-”

You cut him off with a wail. “Hoseok, please help me! I’ll die here, please!” He hissed at your yelling on his shoulder.

“Shh, stop that! Ah, I guess I can try and help you get back to the house. I thought you didn’t need someone like me…” Hoseok got started on unchaining the trap.

“No, I-I do need you! I’m sorry, I’ll never act out again…” you mumbled ashamedly. Hoseok heaved you up with a pained scream from you. He kissed your cheek in a lame attempt to calm you.

“Yeah? Are you going to be my good girl and stay inside the house?”

You cried a bit harder when he said this, remembering how you bawled on his front steps after he shut the door on you.

“Yes, I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good. Jin-hyung will be here in an hour to help fix you. Shh, don’t cry, I know it’s a long time,” he whispered to you. You cried all the way to the house and all the way down the concrete stairs to Hoseok’s basement.

“I don’t like it here, Hobi, please...can’t we go somewhere else?” Hoseok calmed your weeping by playing with your hair.

“This is what’s best. I’m here with you, my love...remember I love you so much.” He kissed your forehead softly. “We’ll get you out of this mess.”

You wrapped your hands around the sheets of the bed Hoseok placed you on and writhed in agony.

“It hurts,” you mumbled, still crying softly.

Hoseok cooed, “Aw, my baby…”

The anger within you began to rise like a tidal wave. Perhaps it was being back in this bed under Hoseok’s house, or perhaps you were finally understanding the lengths Hoseok would go to in order to claim you. The throbbing in your ankle aligned with a new throbbing in your head. Hoseok lay with you on the bed you woke up chained to all those months ago when he first took you. It took three strokes to the top of our head for you to snap.

“You did this to me,” you whispered, turning your face away from him.

Hoseok stopped stroking your hair as if he had just been doused with cold water.

“Huh? Say that again for me, baby, I didn’t quite hear you.” Hoseok tangled his fingers in your hair. You braced yourself for a harsh tug.

“This is your trap. I didn’t even want to go outside. I wasn’t even being bad.”

You didn’t force yourself to look at him as you spoke. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had stood up to him...was it recent? Wasn’t it during those first three days in his basement? It felt like a dream.

“I’ve been perfect these last few months. You kidnapped me yet I have been perfect for you! I didn’t deserve this!” You were steadily becoming hysterical. It felt good to let yourself become unraveled after weeks of living complacently in his clutch. Hoseok still hadn’t said anything, still keeping his hand gently against your scalp.

“How could you do this to me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me and you put me in a bear trap for what? Not eating my dinner? I didn’t eat because you make me sick!”

At this point, Hoseok began calmly rising from the bed and making his way over to your trapped foot. You barely noticed, too wound up in your angry rant. You didn’t care anymore. There was just no right way to be Hoseok’s victim, and there was no hope for escape either. You were surrounded by miles of forest and the only communication with other humans was Hoseok’s equally repulsive friends and two of them were moving across the country soon. You envied them and their stupid red van and happy little life. You had only met Jungkook and his fiancèe once, but they seemed to love each other deeply. You once wished for something like that, at least before Hoseok came into your life.

“You stupid motherfucker! Piece of shit! Fix my fucking leg, you asshole!” Hoseok watched you yell with blank eyes before cracking a slight smile. He chuckled, adoring the way your tongue was so sharp.

“Are you done, sweetie?” He massaged your calves. The pain in your foot almost felt as hot as the rage bubbling through your veins at the moment.

“You’re going to burn in hell for what you’ve done to me. Son of the devil,” you hissed.

Hoseok grinned wordlessly again before placing his hands on both sides of the bear trap and releasing its jaws with a manly grunt. A scream ripped through you, dying into dry sobs after a moment. You supposed it was good that he did it when you were furious and the adrenaline was pushing you off the edge.

Hoseok was panting heavily. “Baby, did you know that some animals gnaw their own limbs off to free themselves from bear traps?” You watched with a glare as he fiddled with the contraption. You prayed that he would be offended enough to just kill you already. “I haven’t seen it happen myself. Some hunters find bear traps inhumane for that very reason. I understand. The animal has done no wrong, correct?” The shoddy lighting of his basement cast a shadow over his face.

“I can’t imagine how it would feel to be so helpless like that...so scared and alone...you must have felt that way back in that forest, huh? Baby?” You refused to entertain him any longer. Hoseok was being oddly soft-spoken and gentle with his tone. It wasn’t often that he brought out this voice.

“You must be so upset, huh? Scared, maybe even suicidal. You might even feel like a lost cause.” The trap snapped back into its original open position with a clang. “I’ve never viewed you that way. All I’ve ever seen you as was my perfect girl, even when you weren’t being so good. I never lost hope in you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to snap out of it and love me too and fucking mean it.” His tone turned angry for a second, but he quickly shut it down. You stared at how he held the open trap with such expertise.

“You might think you were being so careful and good, but I see right through you. I just know you so well, baby. I knew deep down, there was still a part of you that defied me, even though I just wanted you to be your best self. I knew there was still some part of you left for me to crack apart and mold to include me with it.”

You were much more dizzy now.

“I’m doing this for your own good. So we can be happy together.”

You caught on with a start, sitting up quickly. You couldn’t even get one word out before Hoseok swiftly grabbed your good foot with a heavy hand and positioned it on the plate of the open trap. He jumped back, successfully evading the teeth of the trap which were now clamped around your other foot.

You let out a gut-wrenching scream. Not only did you scream from the pain of the bear trap, but also from the pain of the cold basement, the pain of the thick woods that surrounded the house. Hoseok watched you thrash on the bed as if you were possessed. Both of your ankles poured out blood and soiled the white bed sheets you lay on.

“Honey, be careful! Look at what happened to the sheets,” he tsked. “Ah, look at what you’ve done. How did my silly girl manage to get caught into two traps in one day? What am I gonna do with you?”

You began bawling again as Hoseok remained standing over you. His voice remained sickly sweet and you found yourself yearning for him to taunt you with his usual nasty tone.

“I want to die,” you weep. Hoseok seemed affected by this for a second before reverting back to his calm stance.

He silently came back around the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead once more before making his way up the concrete stairs. You thought about calling out to him for a moment, but ultimately decided not to. Hoseok shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. You wouldn’t be able to walk anyway. He made his way to the kitchen, stretching as he did so, and opened a cabinet in search of some tea. Your cries were barely audible over the hum of the microwave heating his water.

[bromberryx]

Picnic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You are new to the Avengers team. Steve seems to have his apartment next to yours, you get to know him better at a picnic.

A/N: this is my first fic so please don´t judge. Also, I am not a native Englisch speaker so if there are any mistakes: I´m sorry, feel free to correct me.

Also thinking about making this a series.

By the way i chose the hero-name „The clash“ because I was listening to „Should I stay or should I go“ when starting to write lmao.

Warnings: a tiny bit of fluff, MCU references

Word count: 1,252

******

You were new to the Avengers team and this was supposed to be your first day. Before you got the call from Nick Fury, you were a secret neighborhood hero, same as Peter Parker.

But you didn´t have a Spiderman suit, no, you were just wearing a big black hoodie and a face mask to hide your face. You gave yourself the name „the Clash“, because on your first secret mission you bumped into an old man that was carrying some groceries. You were in the middle of following a thief that stole a very expensive ring from a jewelry shop. You started to pick up his groceries and said I´m sorry for about 13 times. But he just smiled and said No problem, young lady. ´You a superhero?

You smiled, thoughts still on the thief that must have been a mile away already, and said. Uhm, yeah, I think so. He laughed and said Well, well I hope you can still catch the thief, he almost ran into me. My name´s Stan by the way. You nodded and answered, while starting to run again. See you then, Stan, have a nice week. Uhm, I´m „The clash“ by the way.

Thanks! The name fits you just perfectly, young lady.

When you first arrived at the Stark tower, the whole crew welcomed you. You would have never expected to be an Avenger someday, but here you were, at Stark tower with all of the Avengers around you, laughing and welcoming you.

After you quickly introduced yourself, Tony took you with him and turned to show you the kitchen, the gym and your room of course.

This is your room, Y/N. You also might have noticed that you have some neighbors. On your left is Steve´s room and on the right there´s the room of Wanda. You smiled at him while he handed you the key to your room´s door and thanked him for showing you everything.

Oh, and the walls are soundproof by the way, so if you feel the need to listen to music at 2am, go for it.

You chuckled at Tony´s statement and stepped into your little apartment. Tony said goodbye and said you could find him in his office if you needed help.

You threw yourself onto the bed and sighed. Wow, I´m an Avenger now. You thought out loud. After lying there for about ten minutes you started to unpack your suitcase as you peeked a little sheet o paper right in front of the door.

You thought for a moment but you were sure it hasn´t been there when you first stepped into the room. You stood up and grabbed the little sheet.

Hey Y/N, if you need something, lmk. Welcome to the team!

Steve

You smiled. Captain America. You couldn´t believe you would work with him from now on, since you have only seen him on tv yet or heard about him on the news. Meeting him today was a very special thing for you.

As you were finished clearing up all your clothes and memorabilia, you decided to look if Steve´s in his room.

You closed your door behind you as you saw Steve on your right doing the same. You smiled at him.

Hi Steve! Thanks for the note.

Ah, hey Y/N. You´re welcome.

He looked gorgeous. A tight shirt was emphazising his toned upper body. A light beard was adorning his perfectly shaped faced, a smile on his red lips.

Oh, totally forgot about it, Bruce asked if you´d like to go on a picnic.. you know, since it´s your first day here and we want to get to know you better.

Your smile widened. I´d love to!! Shall I bring something? Cookies? I could bake some.

Steve chuckled at your cuteness and your ambition. No, no it´s fine. Nat and Wanda made some chocolate cookies this morning, just for you.

*** later on the way to the park ***

I love the fact that we´re neighbors! Wanda chuckles lightly, putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

Me too! You said, walking by her side, carrying a rucksack full of water bottles.

Steve´s room is also next to yours, right? Have you two talked yet?

Wanda hands you one of the selfmade cookies.

Yes, we did. But our conversation was really short and it was basically about my arrival. You smiled, thinking about Steve and how sweet he was smiling at you before.

The two of you were at the end of a queue of 7 people. The rest of the Avengers didn´t have time to come or just didn´t want to. There was you and Wanda (obviously), Steve, Pepper, Nat, Bruce and Scott.

They were all talking as Bruce, who was at the beginning of the queue turned around and cleared his throat. So.. uhh.. here it is. The Park I mean. I, once again want to welcome our new member: Y/N! We´re so glad you´re here!

Everyone applauded and you turned to sit down when you felt a light touch on your left shoulder.

Mind if I sit with you? Steve asked, grinning.

How could I? You two sat down on one of the big, red blankets Pepper brought.

You began to get the water bottles out of your rucksack and handed them to your teammates.

When you turned to give Scott his bottle, you burst into laughter.

Why are you laughing? Scott asked nervously.

You… I… You couldn´t stop laughing until you finally gasped for air. Your shirt, I.. love it! The rest of the group (staring at you since you started your act of laughing) started peeking to see what the text on Scott´s shirt was saying.

World´s greatest grandma.

***

After a long story of how Scott became „World´s greatest grandma“ you turned to talk to Steve, who smiled at you the whole time, more or less listening to Scott‘s story.

I like your shirt too, even thought it has nothing to do with grandmas. You flirted, a little too obviously.

Steve looked at the ground.

Thanks, honey. But tbh, I´d rather not wear a shirt today, it´s so hot.

Do whatever you´re up to, I wouldn´t blame you. You smirked at Steve.

Hey, sorry to interrupt you, but have you seen my orange slices? I´m pretty sure I brought some.

You turned around in shock.

No, sorry Scott, I didn´t eat them.

Me neither. Steve looked innocent. Scott walked away grumpily.

You know what? Steve waved his hand, a sign for you to come closer. I did eat them.

You looked up into his steel blues eyes, loosing yourself in them for a minute. Your lips turned into a smile. The smell of his light perfume getting into your nose. You were feeling the need to pull him close to you, to pull these perfect lips into a kiss.

What are you thinking, Y/N? This is your first day and you already start catching feelings for a 100 year-old super soldier?!!

You pulled away, reminding yourself of what he said and began to chuckle at the joke.

Steve, Y/N! Come here, we want to take a picture. Nat shouted from a few meters away.

The magic moment was gone, but you hoped that there were more to come in your future as a neighbor of Steve Rogers.

[aliferous-ly]

we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes

AKA Roman and Logan sit down and gossip -- but not in the way you think. 

pairings: platonic logince, romantic royality, romantic analogical warnings: swearing, two deceit mentions, one remus mention, if there’s anything else lmk!! wordcount: 1641

“Did you see Patton today? What he was wearing?” Roman said, swirling a bright rainbow sparkle mug. 

“Mmhmm,” Logan said. He nodded for good measure. “The soft grey sweater? With a little mouse on it?” 

“And it said mice to meet you, like,” Roman paused, making a guttural noise. “Ugh! Are you kidding me? I can’t deal with that!” 

“The pun was rather…” Logan pursed his lips. “...much. However, I agree with your sentiment. The sleeves were so long he used them as hand warmers.” 

“I am GOING to die. Like, this isn’t a drill, dig a hole of six feet,” Roman said. He leaned forward, thick fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “He should be illegal. He’s too cute. Tomorrow he’ll come down in that green knit sweater and I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing his stupid face.” 

“I thought the yellow dress would do you in. I stand corrected,” Logan said. 

“Oh, yes, it absolutely would,” Roman said. He pointed at Logan with his obnoxious glitter mug. “But it’s too cold for that. 

“Oh, what about the dark red one, and then that one scarf he has, and leggings?” Logan mused. 

“Oh shit,” Roman said. He sighed, melting against the couch cushions. “God, you’re right.” 

“Also, based on past experience, you won’t do anything of the sort,” Logan said, sipping from his own travel mug. 

Roman gasped. “Ouch! You didn’t have to come for me like that!” 

“I speak only the truth,” Logan said, shrugging. He lifted the mug to cover the slight hint of a smile. 

“Oh, but you’ll love this,” Roman said. He put the mug on the coffee table. With his newly freed hands, Roman gestured to follow his words. “I caught Virgil staring at your space blanket.” 

“Understandable. Anyone would. It’s very soft and is nice to look at,” Logan said. 

“Shut up, specs,” Roman said. “C’mon. C’mon. Imagine him all wrapped up in that blanket. Like are you kidding me? Imagine it.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring the heat travelling to his cheeks. Maybe he was too warm and should shed a layer. “Today he told me his room needed redecorating and asked me to help.” 

“Yo, get it my good nerdy friend!” Roman said, kicking Logan. “What did you say?” 

Logan avoided Roman’s gaze, electing to stare out the window where snow fell softly, as per Roman’s request. 

“Teach,” Roman said. He leveled Logan with a look. “Don’t leave me hanging.” 

“I said, I am not design oriented and thus my opinion should not be turned to, perhaps try Patton or Roman, they would enjoy this activity more,” Logan muttered, turning bright red at Roman’s incredulous stare. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Dude!” Roman all but yelled. Logan shh’d him frantically, eyes wide. Roman lowered his voice, but only slight. “That was your opportunity! Your time to shine! You could regale him with like, creepy spider facts! What even!” 

“I panicked!’ Logan whispered loudly. “I can’t handle him when he does that weird thing with his face!” 

“You mean smiling?” Roman said, gesturing wildly. “Logan!” 

“Do not yell at me when you were just saying you couldn’t handle it when Patton was wearing a certain piece of fabric,” Logan shot back. 

“Don’t at me when you fall into a helpless puddle whenever Virgil wears a beanie,” Roman countered. 

“He looks -- he looks--”

“Really damn cute, I know! I get it, but you still fall apart so don’t pretend I’m the only useless one here!” 

“I just told you I rejected one of his -- invites -- and you think I’m put together? Bitch, please.” 

They stared at each other, almost breathless, almost huffing. Then they cracked, lips twitching up into twin smiles as laughter bubbled. 

“Ahhh,” Roman said, falling further into a reclined position. “Patton promised to make me a pink cake tomorrow.” 

“Don’t drink in that position,” Logan said. He shifted. “Pink cake? As in, the cake, or the frosting?” 

“White frosting, pink cake,” Roman said. 

“Sounds insufferably adorable,” Logan said. He picked at his travel mug, flipping the top open and closed, open and closed. 

“He really is adorable,” Roman said, sighing happily. “If I ask him to make the cute little roses, do you think he’ll say yes? Because then I can watch his concentrated face, his nose scrunches up, and sometimes his tongue sticks out between his teeth, and you can see his dimples so easily.” 

“I would put money on it,” Logan said. He frowned. “I don’t think Virgil enjoys my presence as much anymore. He looked so upset when I spoke.” 

“Because you said no, you stupid bitch,” Roman said. 

Logan rolled his eyes. “You think using harsh words will wake me up to something. It won’t work, because I don’t need waking up to anything.” 

“You need to wake up and see how much Virgil loooooves you,” Roman said, squishing his own cheeks to make a face at Logan. 

“You’re the insufferable one,” Logan said. “He does not.” 

“Does too!” Roman protested. “I have proof!” 

“Oh, do tell,” Logan said, with the air of someone who’d won three steps before. 

“Okay,” Roman said. He sat up; time to get serious. “Okay. So you know how Virgil is emotionally stunted?” 

“Rude, but continue.” 

“So he doesn’t know how to express love the same way Patton and I do -- Patton by telling you he loves you and me telling me how irritating you are, naturally -- and I think it’s because being in the other’s messed with him,” Roman said. 

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “I asked for proof, not for you to psychoanalyse him.” 

“Okay, okay, fine,” Roman said. “He loves hanging out with you because he always has that little smile whenever you’re around, he literally frosted a cookie with blue and black plaid, caught me looking, and stuffed the whole thing in his face,” Roman said, ticking off with his fingers. “He always seems to know when you’re in the room, and hangs out with you all the time just sitting on the couch.” 

“That is very enjoyable,” Logan murmured. His fingers were warm around the travel mug. 

“Dude, I vote you go for it,” Roman said. 

“You know why I don’t,” Logan said. 

“Yeah,” Roman said. He knew. They made a pact about it, actually. No unnecessary pushing. Even if Roman thought it was very necessary. 

“Also, please tell me you heard Patton rambling about the Princess and the Frog,” Logan said. 

“Oh did I!” Roman said, loud as ever. “I almost proposed to him on the spot. Can sides get married?”

“Hell if I know,” Logan said. He took an obnoxious sip of his drink. 

“Bitch what!” Roman said. He threw his arms in the air. “You’re supposed to know everything, you logical god!” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Marriage is utterly impossible between the sides because it requires an ordained priest, of which none of us are.” 

“Fuck you, I can get married if I want to,” Roman said, leaning back against the couch. 

“Case and point,” Logan said. 

“Also, why can’t you become ordained?” Roman said. 

“You need a street address and I, Logan Sanders, have no address,” Logan said. He frowned. “Unfortunately.” 

“I knew you’d already tried,” Roman said. He laughed. “Let’s get Thomas ordained. Stick that in his brain during dreamland.” 

“This isn’t Inception,” Logan said. 

“Did you just make a movie reference?” Roman said. He sat forward, absolute delight shining in his voice. 

“Of course not,” Logan said. 

“Don’t lie,” Roman said. “That’s just inviting trouble.” 

“Deceit’s name is not trouble,” Logan said, distaste clear in his voice. “Besides, that’s all besides the point. You’re not going to jump straight to marriage because you’re a romantic and want to milk all relationships from every milestone.” 

“All my relationships?” Roman made a few disbelieving noises. “You make it sound like I’ve had one!” 

“Technically, you’re the hub of Thomas’s romantic feelings and therefore feel romantically attracted to his partners.” 

“Well, kinda,” Roman said. He swished his mug, watching the liquid within swirl around. “Patton shares it because he’s like, all emotion.” 

Logan thought for one, two, three moments. “How absolutely disgusting.” 

“I know, we’ve ranted so many times about how wonderful his ex’s were when they were dating,” Roman groaned. 

“It’s like sugar squared,” Logan said. He shivered. “Gross.” 

“Don’t gross me, you’re the one who literally wrote a pros and cons list to dating Virgil and your cons were he would know me and three question marks,” Roman said. “That’s gross.” 

“That’s practical,” Logan said, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. 

“You’re -- practical -- wait,” Roman laughed. “Wait, let me try again.” 

“Too late, no takesie backsies -- that is how the phrase goes, yes?” 

“Don’t be cute with me.” 

“Impossible. I’m never cute.” 

“Virgil would beg to differ--”

“How would you know what Virgil thinks? Also, this conversation seems to be targeting me a little too much. How about the time Patton slipped and you caught him? You’ve never looked redder.” 

“Stoooop,” Roman whined. “He looked so happy, okay! Also I caught him, that’s like, ultimate prince behavior.” 

“Is it prince behavior to stutter and leave the situation ten seconds later?” Logan hummed. 

“Do not come at me like that, oh my god,” Roman said. “This is a very targeted conversation, I thought we were talking tea.” 

“Alright,” Logan said. He settled in. “Where were we?” 

“Well, I was thinking about--” Roman continued talking, his voice soft and pliant. Logan interjected every so often with his own comments, the two of them catching up on all the actions of Virgil or Patton, with splashes of Deceit and Remus interspersed in. 

Ten feet away, sitting on the stairs, blocked by the wall, sat Patton and Virgil. 

They clung to one another's hands, eyes wide and faces darker than Roman’s sash.