#Enjoy the trauma and the ‘trauma’. I hope it's all you've every wanted. I hope it helps you sleep at night. I hope all of it was worth it.

[zombienarc]

One thing I've learned is that people need me more than I've needed them.

[astrophileous]

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

[hoeforhao]

🏷 Kidult ▪︎ Choi Seungcheol Fic ▪︎

↷ pairing: dad!seungcheol × fem!reader (feat!jeonghan)

↷ genre: heavy angst, fluff towards the end, mentions of childhood trauma, sort of arranged marriage? cheol and reader have a daughter together, lots of dad seungcheol content!!!

↷ summary: can trying to relive the childhood you never got to experience, through your daughter be the reason of your husband's irk?

↷ part: 1/4 pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

↷ w.c: 2.5k

↷ author's note: part 1 is here finally!! will try to post part 2 by the end of this week, and part 3 will be a bonus smut which will be published on cheol's birthday♡

If you want to be added to this fic's taglist, drop a comment under this post ; my ask box is open too♡

Motherhood was truly a blissful chapter of every woman's life. Seeing your child growing up in your arms, her little legs stomping through the grass to join her playmates, often tumbling down on her way, her father going completely nuts over the itty bitty scratches on his princess,made you feel a joy not even billion dollars could buy.

But that's definitely not something you believed in before getting married to seungcheol or even when you announced to all of your family, that you were about to birth a small little version of your husband and their son.

While his child swelled in your belly, his ignorance and indifference towards you, swelled in your heart. Although it would be downright selfish to say that seungcheol didn't take care of you during your pregnancy, but you surely weren't that naive to not understand it was all for the wellbeing of his daughter.

Well some people unlike others are just destined to go through life like a soldier, bound to only their duty without the luxury of enjoying worldly pleasures - that's what you've been telling yourself since your childhood, all throughout your marriage but now...now it's different.

As selfish as it may sound, your daughter Hana's childhood now gave you a newfound hope of reliving those years of your life that you never got to cherish....being as carefree and jolly like a two year old, sleeping every night with a teddy tucked under your arms without any thoughts about how to deal with this cruel world.

You were so consumed in your thoughts that you failed to notice the cinnamon pie set in the oven being slightly overcooked along its edges.

"Shit shit shit you cannot mess this up y/n!!! Cheol and Hana are crazy over your cinnamon pie and the last thing you wanna do is disappoint your daughter and his father" you mentally cuss at yourself while taking out the pie pot from the oven as quick as possible....mildly burning your fingers in the attempt.

A thud of the main door shitts your concentration from your burned fingers to your hall, which is now being adorned by Hana's giggles upon seeing her father.

"Dada is home princess! What has my girl been doing all day without her daddy huh" seungcheol literally throws his coat on the couch before hopping towards his beloved daughter, taking her up in his arms in one quick lift and peppering the little ball's mochi cheeks with kisses.

"I played a lot with momma today daddy, and you know you know we even threw a birthday party for Bella hehe" Hana started blabbering out her entire day's routine to her father, sitting on his lap, her head resting on his chest,as seungcheol kept on playing with his daughter's silken locks.

"That's why my cupcake is all dolled up right now huh, I see" seungcheol's arms wrap around Hana's waist tightly while patting her hair. "Do I look like a princess dwaddy?"

"When does my Hana doesn't look like a princess, baby! You're royalty, my little highness" you were watching such a dreamy cinematic sequence of a perfect loving family being played out infront of you, from behind the kitchen counter....the catch being you were just a part of this trio only for a show to others.

"Daddy daddy can we go to the park tomorrow pwease" your daughter surely knew that her puppy eyes was cheol's biggest weakness and that's what she used everytime to make her father tend to all the tantrums.

"Anything for my babygirl. But first you've to stop looking at me with those eyes or dadda's heart will burst from cuteness babie" hana's adorable beads were now paired with her dad's dimples making your heart swell at the view. Two of your cutest dumplings.

"Come on now enough talking you two! Who wants to have the first bite of the pie?" you break off your glare from the duo and bring out the piping hot plate of freshly baked crust from the kitchen and set it on the table before them.

"Me me me" "No me" "No daddy me. Won't you let your princess have the first bite" one pout from Hana and seungcheol melts into a puddle, stuffing her small cheeks with the first bite of the pie by himself. "Next time dadda will win for sure!!!" a small hmph leaves your 27 year old husband's lips.

"So when are we going out tomorrow?" you press your lips into a smile like an excited puppy, putting a halt to the father daughter's playtime...your eyes glistening up at the thought of the beautiful day ahead.

"We'll leave after breakfast" seungcheol's stern voice echoes around the hall, awaring you of the void of emotions he has dug out only for you, his wife and the mother of his child.

"Oh okay! Come on Hana it's bedtime bub." you swing her up into your arms, marking your steps towards her bedroom. "No mowmmy I wanna play more with daddy please"

"No baby. We gotta wake up early tomorrow for the park right? There you can play with dad all throughout the day. Okay love?" you plant a goodnight kiss to your daughter's temples before tucking her into her soft Cinderella sheets.

"My cute round munchkin" one last loving glance at Hana and you put off the lights of her room to let her drift into the happiest dream ever, without any tension of the cruelties of the outside world.

Changing into a soft satin robe and tying your hair up into a bun, you finally settle yourself under the duvet of your shared bedroom with seungcheol, your back facing him, wishing ever passing moment, that at least once he wraps you around his arms. But you know better, that he never will.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ・・・・☆・・・・

"YAH CHOI HANA WALK SLOW!" screaming at

that poodle of sunshine waddling away in utter haste, you try to match her pace, literally all breathless and panting.

After a fruitless attempt to follow your spawn of Satan going absolutely haywire about being in a park with her daddy, you curve up your back, sweating like a pig looking for some air ; a pair of cold petite hands lands on the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuc - oh my god Mr notepad ass what are you doing here!!" your face instantly harbors the biggest smile upon seeing your childhood bestfriend after literally months.

"Come on girl, you meet the heartthrob of the town, and this is how you greet him? Girls swoon over m - ah ouch y/n lord my future gen " hearing jeonghan blabber 'bout being a hot cake was downright torture for you, when the man literally had no cake to offer!!!

"Yeah yeah sure that's why you used to ask me to find you a girl, pheww!!" a big smug visible clear in your eyes.

"sigh Is this how you welcome your bestfriend after almost an year??!!" han knew that him giving you those angel eyes will make your composure melt in a matter of seconds and that's exactly what happened.

"Oh come on! I was joking! You know I love you, you little bunny" you instantly wrap your arms around han's waist tightly, while pouting like a puppy yourself, as he returns the gesture in a blink.

"Except the cake part tho, hehe!" a slight pinch lands on his butt as you free yourself from him to walk to the ride's counter, hand in hand. Your heart was fluttering like a flock of doves, because you could let your true self take control only when with jeonghan, from laughing like a five year old, being a naughty tease to smiling wide like the sun. Why so? Because apparently seeing you letting your inner child out in the open, irked your 'husband'.

"Oh the main question! Why are you here? That too at a theme park!!!" shooting an interrogative glare towards jeonghan you march away through the crowd like a happy squirrel.

"I'm here with Nabi, and my little bunbun Byul. She literally manipulated me into taking her to this park. ME! THE YOON JEONGHAN BEING MANIPULATED. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT! I guess she learnt it from her dad only" jeonghan blurted out almost an entire verse within seconds, and you felt nothing but sheer joy being reunited with the only who who cherished your presence, after so long.

"There they are" you look over the thick mass to see Seungcheol and Hana standing by the ride, her little pinky entwined with her father's dainty yet strong digits, while pulling onto jeonghan's arms to run towards your family.

Cheol's face turns slightly dark watching you beaming with joy being arm tied with another man, that was not him. He knew jeonghan was your bestfriend from the time your wedding bells rang but....there was this feeling in his heart against Han, that he could never justify.

"Hey Seungcheol. How you've been? Grown quite buff huh!" Jeonghan playfully slaps Cheol's muscles, earning a sort of irritated groan and a tight smile from him.

"Looks like someone's jealous!" you lean your body over jeonghan's shoulder, whispering into his ears which lands you into being tickled by him like crazy, in public.

"Okay okay I'm sorry, s-stop!" Han's devilish hands finally leaves your body, as yout chest heaves up and down, breathless from laughing an entire year's worth.

"Umm hmm" cheol clears his throat as he tries to break off the *not so desirable scene rolling out infront of him* "we should get Hana going on the ride now, she's growing quite impatient"

"Omg yes so sorry baby mom got distracted" you take Hana from her father's grip. "Cheol cheol let us get on the ride too na? Pls!!! Pls!!" pulling onto your husband's biceps, being in a trance of happiness and forgetting that he's Choi Seungcheol and not your buddy, Jeonghan -

"Stop behaving like a kid y/n! You're twenty seven and a mother to a two year old! Fuckin act like one" each and every word that left cheol's lips carved out a new wound in your heart. Though he's right anyways....you don't deserve to fool around like a happy child....you never did....

"I'll call Nabi and Byul too. Both of them can enjoy their visit that way then" jeonghan steps in to somewhat chase away the cloud that was near to pouring down over the four of you "and Byul is herself quite fond of her bestfriend Hana anyways. They would love this set up" Han's lips curl up into a forced smile as he walks off to fetch his own family.

"I i'm sorry" you let go off Hana's tiny fingers, as soon as jeonghan leaves,leading her to the ride's entrance. "Hold on tightly to the bars, okay? Mom will be right here" your soft sweaty hands cup her cheeks before she turns around to go get seated on her most awaited part of the day.

Seungcheol's face is painted with guilt and regret, as he watches over his small family - while her daughter is glaring brighter than the sun with soulful joy, his wife is standing all gloomy beside the long sheep haired guy he have always envied.

"Mommy the ride was amazing. You know Byul was scared hehe. She was holding onto my arms" your daughter waddles down the metal stairs, her bestfriend following soon after, both of their faces all sweaty and glinting from the little adventure.

"N-no i was not, i i just tried to k-keep Hana safe" the two year old blurts out, trying to protect her pride, while her dad scoops her up into his arms, drying off her face with his shirt.

"Yes you're my strong and brave bun, I know that baby" jeonghan places open mouth kisses on his daughter's face, shifting her to her mother's arms gently, placing a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead in the process.

Such a beautiful family. A word that would never fit your own -

"I - I'm taking the girls to have some ice cream" seungcheol breaks the silence that has now creeped up onto your face. "Wanna j-join us, y/n?" no matter how much he tries to act cool or indifferent, the words he threw at your merry face just few minutes back, refuses to leave his mind, engulfing his form in severe shame and agony.

"No I would like to stay back. You three go ahead" the change in your tone was clear enough for even a stranger to notice....and jeonghan has known you for twenty whole years.

"Nabi you accompany the girls and seungcheol. We two will be waiting for y'all by the carousel" surprising right? How jeonghan was the one having your back and not your husband!!!

"Seungcheol was being an absolute dick back there you know. A very annoying, lumpy and dumbass dick " han's hands curl up against your shoulder as he pulls your head to rest on his nape, while both of you were seated on a bench shining under the dreamiest luminaire.

"Hmm" you hum into his skin, warm salty drops slowly making their way down his silk shirt "or maybe he was actually right"

Pulling yourself up from Han's embrace, you focus your eyes onto your lap, while fidgeting with your fingers, when you feel a warm pair of hands cupping your cheek, fingers pushing off any drop of water that dared to pass by your supple skin.

"Just because someone doesn't appreciate your presence in their life and treat you as nothing but a person their daughter calls 'mom', doesn't mean that you are allowed to downgrade yourself" his hands traveling down your face to now engulf your palms into his, "You have every right to be yourself y/n. I know how you've been fighting all your life, how you never had anything what people call carefree childhood these days....don't let anyone murder the soulful kid within you. Understood, Ms Thumper Paws" jeonghan settles his speech with a finishing pinch on your dumpling cheeks.

"Aye aye sir! Noted!!" you finally flash him with the smile he has been trying to bring out since 'someone' decided to slash it.

To both of your oblivion, seungcheol was watching his wife, his partner being all giggly like a beaming ray of sunshine, her bunny teeth making its way out for the world to see, but-

not in his arms, not on his jokes, instead because of her bestfriend....the person he has always been jealous of, for making you smile so wide and bringing out the adorable kid in you!!!something only he wishes to do you for you.....

all this while the caramel ice cream he brought for you melting away in his hands, as he takes in the sight before him with gritted teeth and hurt eyes

[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[joelscruff]

wait (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

first and foremost! this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place after "words". this won't really make sense if you haven't read that one! it's so crazy to me how this started out as a silly little smutty drabble and somehow became this. this one's kind of heavy (read the warnings!!) but i promise that things won't stay this angsty forever. at its root this story is supposed to be smutty and fun and i promise there will be more of that in the future. i hope you enjoy it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: it's been a month since your boyfriend discovered your relationship with his father and a month since you've seen joel. it's starting to take its toll. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, sexting, comeplay, angst, allusions to past trauma, shitty family dynamics (addiction & verbal abuse), panic attacks word count: 3.2k

i miss you

it's the only thing you've thought about texting him for about a month, a text you always type out and then erase a few moments later. it's something you swore to yourself that you wouldn't do no matter how lonely you got. he'd said he needed time, and you want to give it to him. and yet here you are, leaning against the window of your bus home from community college with tears in your eyes, phone in hand, wanting nothing more than to see him. selfish.

it's been one of the loneliest periods of your life. you've known loneliness, felt it throughout most of your childhood, through your adolescence, it's nothing new. but with joel you'd finally begun to feel whole again, like you actually mattered to someone. he looked forward to seeing you, to holding you, being with you. you'd never felt so desired and loved and protected in your whole life.

now you're back to having nothing, no one. it's a harsh reality you're forcing yourself to accept. you still haven't heard anything from your boyfriend - now ex, of course, though there was never any official breakup - and even that's a punch to the gut, an added depth to a loss that you caused.

he's hurting, i hurt him, joel's words repeat in your head. it breaks your heart that he's feeling so guilty, that he feels that he caused this entire thing when it's really your fault. if you weren't such a mess of a person, such a broken human being, the whole thing wouldn't have even happened to begin with. what kind of person sleeps with their boyfriend's father? starts a relationship with him? calls him daddy?

you know you caused this and yet you can't help but miss him so much. it's like he's ingrained himself into your bones somehow, his touch tattooed into your skin. he's all you think about, dream about. you miss being in his embrace, being held by him, whispering daddy in his ear and feeling understood, not judged. you miss his gentle kisses to your nose, the safety of his lap, his arms around your trembling form while he fucked you, took you, made you his.

you stare at the unsent text message and inevitably find yourself scrolling back up to a previous conversation from a few months back, short and simple. texting was never a frequent medium for the two of you, more-so used for you to send him dirty pictures every so often to tease him a bit. you briefly look at the picture, a close-up shot of your bare pussy with some of his come leaking out; absolutely filthy.

still have u inside me daddy

oh baby, so messy. what am I gonna do with you?

you smile at the silliness of it all, the filthiness, but it quickly fades when you remember the reality of the situation again, the fact that your boyfriend had read joel's messages, had definitely seen these texts in particular. he'd called joel a sick man. you don't agree, but you can understand why; if you'd seen a text interaction like this between your own father and a girl half his age... you'd probably have a similar reaction - though the concept of your father showing a woman any affection in the first place is alien in itself.

your bus pulls up to the stop near your house and you get off, slipping your phone back into your pocket and hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you go. it's only a short walk to your house, no more than three minutes, though you usually try to make it a bit longer to delay the inevitable disaster of your home life.

you take it one step at a time, slowly walking down the darkening street with fresh tears in your eyes. god, you're so lonely. you don't want to go home, don't want to be accosted by your alcoholic father and avoidant mother, your asshole brother who never gives you a break. it's so damn depressing in that house; when you'd first gotten together with your boyfriend you'd been so relieved to finally have somewhere else to go that wasn't school or home, another reason you'd stayed with him for so long despite the relationship being doomed. you should have known it couldn't last.

you'd told joel everything. it's hard to believe sometimes that the connection you shared was strong enough for you to trust him with some of your darkest secrets, the worst things from your past. he knows all about your family, all about what you've been through, had listened to you quietly and earnestly as you cried into his shoulder about the hand life had dealt you. he'd rubbed your back, kissed your forehead, whispered it's okay, and i'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart. and he did. he did take care of you. he'd done everything right and somehow you still managed to fuck it up.

the lights are on in the house when you arrive at the front gate, though the car is missing from the driveway; this only means that your mother is out late tonight, probably staying with a friend or a lover or whoever she turns to when shit gets bad. you can't blame her - you'd done the exact same thing when you'd actually had somewhere to go - but part of you still aches for that little girl inside you that needs her, wishes she was inside waiting for you, though it's not like she'd do much to help.

your father is definitely home, probably your brother as well. you stand at the gate, gripping the strap of your backpack and deliberating even bothering to go inside. you know you'll be accosted at the front door by either a drunken tirade or bitter argument. it's a no-win situation no matter how you look at it. your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, grateful for one last brief distraction.

i miss you too, angel. so much.

your eyes go wide, heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at the words.

"fuck," you breathe, "fuck, fuck fuck," you quickly scroll up to confirm your fears - the i miss you text, the one you always erase, the one you make sure to never send - you'd somehow sent it this time, entirely by mistake.

tears are stinging your eyes as you turn on the spot and start walking back and forth in front of your house, running your hand through your hair in disbelief while you stare at joel's text. you fucking idiot. what the fuck have you done? what happened to giving him space? you stupid fucking bitch. you absolute loser. you're suddenly berating yourself the exact same way you know your father and brother will berate you if you go in the house now. you can already picture it - them seeing your tear stained cheeks, the puffiness of your eyes, the words they'll throw at you to hurt you even more, make you feel small.

fucking bitch. fucking loser. fucking idiot.

your breathing is becoming more and more erratic the longer you pace. you can't go in now, not after this, not after seeing that he misses you too and being so fucking close yet so far away. all you can suddenly think about is all those wasted moments at his house, spending so much time with your asshole boyfriend when you could have been with joel, been loved instead of tossed aside like garbage.

god, if you could only hear his voice. if you could just talk to him for one minute before you have to go into this godforsaken hellhole.

before you even fully understand what you're doing, you're hitting the call button and bringing the phone up to your ear.

he answers on the first ring.

"h-"

"i can't do this anymore," you gasp out through a sob, not even bothering to let him say anything, "joel, i can't do it, i miss you so fucking much it hurts."

"babygirl," he breathes, voice rough and deep and gorgeous and familiar, sweet like honey in your ear, "where are you? are you okay?"

and that's enough to break you.

you feel the tears begin to stream down your face, hot and unrelenting. you shake your head even though he can't see you, throat bobbing through repetitive gasps, "no, i'm not okay," you blubber, "da- fuck, joel, i- i can't do this, i can't be by myself anymore. i'm - " you don't even know where this is coming from, voice muddled, "i'm so lonely. i can't do it anymore, i can't. please, i can't."

he makes a devastating sound at your words, something between a sob and a gasp, "where are you?" he repeats, voice full of concern, "where are you, baby? i'm gonna come get you."

"the bus stop by my house," you manage to tell him through your tears, reaching the little bench and situating yourself on it without an ounce of hesitation, "i was- i was gonna go home but," another sob rips through your throat, "but they're home and i- i can't- i can't take it anymore, joel. i don't wanna be there anymore, i can't be there."

"you stay where you are, you hear me?" you can hear movement on the other line, the rattle of keys, footsteps, "don't go home, babygirl, i'm comin'. i'll be there in ten minutes."

"okay," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, "okay."

"deep breaths, baby, remember?" and you do remember; he'd taught you some exercises to help in situations like this, when you feel like the world is falling apart around you and you're just getting smaller and smaller, disappearing into nothingness. he'd held your hands while you'd sat in his lap, eyes closed as you both matched each other's breathing, melted into one another. "in and out, babygirl, that's it. real slow, count for me."

"i r-remember," you manage to hiccup, squeezing your chest with your other hand and trying to ground yourself.

the wait is excruciating, no matter how short, and no matter the fact that joel is on the other end trying to calm you. you sit on the bench with a hand on your heart and the other on your stomach, listening to joel count to five over and over, phone upturned on your thigh.

"big breath in. one...two...three...four...five," he says through the muffled sounds of traffic and wind, "big breath out. one...two...three...four...five." over and over and over again, "i'm turnin' the corner, baby, i'm almost there," he says after about ten minutes of this, "you see me, honey?"

you look up to find his headlights, getting brighter and brighter as they approach. you shakily sit up from the bench, breath coming out much less erratic now, "y-yes," you whisper.

seconds later the car is pulling up in front of you and he's jumping out, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he dashes around it. it's been so long since you've seen him that it's jarring to suddenly have him in front of you, sprinting toward your small and shaking form with his jacket undone, shoes mismatched, glasses askew. you catch a glimpse of his expression, concerned and upset - are those tears? - before he scoops you up into his arms and pulls you in close to him.

"i'm here," he tells you, voice rumbling through his chest against your cheek, solid and warm, "i'm here now, babygirl, you're okay. you're okay."

and somehow you are.

--

"i'm sorry," is all you can say to him as he drives you to his house, hand holding yours tightly the whole way, "i'm such an idiot, i'm so sorry."

"stop saying that," he repeats for maybe the fourth time, shaking his head and squeezing your hand even more firmly, "you're not an idiot and you have nothing to be sorry about."

you really are okay now, breaths calm and tears not even flowing anymore. instead the guilt and shame and humiliation have taken over, sinking into your skin as you lean back in the passenger seat with your hood pulled up, hiding your face from him.

"i was giving you space," you mutter, "i didn't even mean to text you, it was an accident. i was being stupid, as usual."

"stop it," he says again, "stop being mean to yourself."

you close your eyes and face away from him, "easier said than done."

the two of you drive in silence for a few moments, that is until he asks, "have you eaten?" and you say, "no."

he buys you mcdonalds and doesn't let go of your hand.

--

the house hasn't changed. you hadn't really expected it to; it's not like it's been that long since you were last here. you don't bother even sneaking a peek at your ex boyfriend's bedroom as joel leads you upstairs, curiosity nonexistent.

you're not sure why you expect him to take you into his office, maybe sit on the couch with you and talk. to your surprise he leads you straight past the door, down the hallway to what you can only assume is his bedroom - a place you've never been in all your months of being with him.

"sit down," he tells you softly as he opens the door, pulling you slowly inside and nodding toward the queen sized bed, "i'll get you something to wear."

"okay," you breathe, barely looking at him as you examine the room in front of you, large but cozy, cool colors but a warm atmosphere, framed music posters and blueprints covering the walls - exactly what you'd expect from someone like joel. you shuffle forward and drop your bag at the end of his bed, sitting on the edge of it while he goes to his dresser.

you end up in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of his underwear, loving the feeling of being his again, even if neither of you have actually talked about what exactly this means for your relationship. he helps you change, tugging off your worn-out jeans and the same shirt you've worn for three days in a row, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls off your panties and replaces them with his boxers. it's not sexual, but part of you still longs to pull him on top of you, just feel his weight, smell his cologne.

he pulls back the duvet and helps you climb inside onto your stomach, rubbing your arms and shoulders and releasing some of the tension you've been feeling for the past month. you feel him press another kiss to the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way and stroking it gently, giving you all the care and attention you've been aching for. his hands are so big, so comforting and safe, touching you everywhere without any expectations or underlying motive.

"i missed you, daddy," you whisper against his pillow, not sure if he can even hear you, even more unsure whether it's okay to use that word anymore.

he doesn't reply right away, still kneading his thumbs into the base of your back and massaging you gently. you hear him inhale and exhale deeply a few times, like he's biding time while he figures out what to say.

"sorry," you wince, "joel."

he releases you then, helps you turn over so you're on your back and peering up at him with uncertainty. he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down to thumb your cheek, eyes sad and tired.

"i wanna be that for you, sweetheart," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "i do. i want it more than you even realize," he takes a breath, biting down on his lip briefly, "i just... i need you to tell me somethin'. be honest with me now."

your heart skips a beat, "what?"

"when you said you loved me..." his voice breaks a bit and you ache to reach for him, cup his cheek and hold him close, "was it because of what we've been doin'?" he seems to reassess his words, shaking his head slightly, "i mean, did it...did you actually mean it? or was it... was it just part of the game?"

you stare at him for a few seconds, lips parting and eyes going slightly wide. without a second thought you do exactly what you'd just been thinking about, reaching up to place your hand against his face, feeling his scruff beneath your palm. he leans in and takes a breath, peering into your eyes with a yearning you can't describe, can only feel.

you shake your head slowly, "joel," you whisper, "it's never been a game."

his eyes close, stuttering out another breath when your thumb strokes his cheek soothingly. unable to hold back anymore, you lean up to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, sweet and tender and familiar. his hand finds the back of your head, pulls you closer, claims you again.

he fucks you slow.

it's never been like this, never has he fucked you the way he fucks you now. you barely speak, just moan and whimper and sigh and melt into each other the way you've never truly been able to, not without prying ears and a time limit hanging over your heads. your hands tangle in his hair while he hits that deep spot inside you, holds you close, buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, pounds into you relentlessly like you'll both come apart at the seams if he lets go.

you're biting it back, trying not to say it as much as you desperately want to, still unsure if this is really want he wants. just tell me what to do and i'll do it. i don't care, i'm yours. he looks into your eyes and you can't help but start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the safety. he thumbs your tears and kisses them away.

"say it," he murmurs to you as you both near your inevitable release, the tension building and building as he grabs your face with both hands and fucks you with purpose, with passion, "say it, babygirl, tell me."

you shake your head, suddenly self conscious, suddenly afraid. the feelings from earlier tonight rise back in your chest, making a home in the back of your throat as a sob threatens to rip through it.

"it's okay," he whispers, voice trembling with the speed of his thrusts, "it's okay, honey, i wanna hear you say it," he furrows his brow and releases a groan, so close to the edge, "please, baby, say it. need you to say it."

you pull him close, grip his back, press your lips to his ear, "daddy."

he groans, dark and rough, "that's it," he murmurs, "that's it baby, i'm your daddy. that's right." he pulls back to look at you, eyes meeting yours in a passionate gaze that lasts forever, "say it again."

"daddy," you whine, unable to unlock your eyes from his, lip trembling as you submit entirely to him, "feels so good, daddy."

there's something in his expression you can't place, something in his words that reverberates in your brain like a pinball. say it again... you realize it means more than you'd initially thought. he's not just asking you to say one word - he's asking for three.

"i love you," you cry out just as he presses his thumb to your clit, pushes you over the edge, "i love you."

he comes just as you do, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as your fingers scramble for purchase at his back, holding him impossibly close to the point where his entire body weight is on top of you, but you don't care. all you can feel is the way his heart beats against your chest, the way his gasps match yours, finding the same rhythm.

you lay there still for what feels like eternity, joel laying on top of you with his cock still deep inside and his forehead pressed against your shoulder. your tears have stopped but you feel the dampness of his own on your skin, hear the gasp he lets out as he sets his emotions free.

"i love you too," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and quick, voice wrecked, "god, i love you so much."

for the first time, you stay the night.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Home - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

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Request: Have you considered Benedict falling for a friend of Daphne's? Like if they're as close as Pen and Eloise but maybe with a little less drama? I think it would be funny for Benedict to ask for advice on how to talk to her and Daph being done. Just "you've known her for as long as I have."

Hi! Thank you again for the request, this is such a cute idea. I hope you don’t mind, but I made the reader a Featherington. I went a little off track too, it was easier for me to write that way. If this isn’t what you were looking for, I’m happy to take another request or alter this one. Sorry for the long wait on getting this out, but I hope you enjoy this :)

(Warnings: insecurity, middle child trauma, nothing else i think? idk, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Living in Grosvenor Square certainly had its ups and downs.

On one hand, you were mere steps away from your best friends. The Bridgertons lived right across the street, and you could visit them practically whenever you wanted. On the other hand—the not so nice hand—your family is the Featherington’s. Which isn’t an inherently bad thing. You loved your family, and could ignore most of the negatives. It just certainly has its pitfalls, being a Featherington daughter.

The Featherington’s—while rich and somewhat dignified—aren’t considered to be the most respectable of families. There wasn’t any one main reason why members of the ton didn’t much like your family, they just didn’t.

It wasn’t a personal grudge with you they had. In fact, you were quite liked by the ton.

More often than not, however, they didn’t pay much attention to you. It was easy to forget you were there when the rest of your family was the center of attention.

You were born soon after Phillipa but before Penelope, making you a middle child.

Your Mother seemed to connect with her eldest far more than her youngest, and that put a strain on your relationship. Not only that, you were much more akin to Penelope, having a lot more in common with her than your older sisters and your Mother combined. You were a bit of a wallflower, like Penelope, and it was a hard trait for your Mother to get past.

It wasn’t all negatives, though.

One of the biggest perks of being a Featherington was the fact that you lived directly across from the Bridgertons. You had spent most of your life over at their residence since the day you developed the ability to walk.

And, subsequently, the ability to walk across the street.

Violet Bridgerton’s first girl—Daphne—was born right around the same time as you were, and she decided Daphne was going to need a friend. Being the first girl born to a family of three brothers was a challenge, and Violet thought it best that Daphne should be able to socialize with a girl her age.

By the time you were both able to talk, you became inseparable. Just as your sister Penelope had come to develop a deep friendship with Eloise Bridgerton, you had come to develop your own with Daphne.

And by extension, you became good friends with her eldest brothers.

Anthony was the oldest, quite a bit older than you. He was already a handful of trouble by the time you showed up, and he already had plenty of practice teasing girls with his sisters as victims. In your first few years, he’d make it his mission each time you visited the house to fluster you, and annoy Daphne. It was harmless fun, and it never really bothered you, although he tried his hardest nonetheless. But as you got older, he became quite protective over you. It was like you were another sister to him, and you definitely bantered and squabbled like siblings do. As annoying as he could be, you loved him like a brother.

Colin was a similar story, although you saw something more to him. It was easy to, with the way Penelope talked about him endlessly. She could ramble for hours, making you listen to every painstaking detail. You definitely understood her affection for him, though. He’s charming and kind, much like his other brothers, but he’s also fun and witty. Daphne tended to favor him the most. They were closest in age, after all. Between her and Penelope, you spent quite a lot of time with him, and you certainly enjoyed his company.

But—besides Daphne—you enjoyed no other Bridgerton’s company like you did Benedict’s.

Benedict was different. He was more.

He was just as kind and charming as Anthony, and just as witty as Colin—certainly as annoyingly beautiful as Daphne—but he was more than that, too. He was sensitive and sweet, far more so than the rest of the Lords of the ton. He was passionate about art and love and valuing the little things. He didn’t care about marrying the prettiest girl for advantage, or inheriting her dowry. He cared about pursuing his dreams, and inspiring others to do the same.

Just the way he talked about his passions and values was enough to make any girl swoon, and yet he was still genuine with his words. It wasn’t for flattery or manipulation, he meant every word. Everything he did, he did for himself and the people he loves.

If it weren’t for Daphne currently holding the number one spot, you’d consider him your best friend.

He’d consider you the same.

You spend just as much time with him as you do with Daphne, and over the years, he’d come to cherish your company.

You saw him for him, not for his title. You listened to his endearing ramblings about his passions because you genuinely enjoyed hearing about them, not because you felt obligated to listen. You treated him like a person, not a prize to be won. It was all he could ask for in a best friend.

But that’s just it. That’s all you were to him. A best friend.

He was so sure that was all you’d ever be. Perhaps one day you’d be his sister in law, considering how close Penelope and Colin had gotten. You’d be family, and that was alright with him. It was what he expected. And then the unexpected happened.

He started falling.

—

The first time he noticed his feelings for you had shifted was the evening of a ball the Queen was throwing.

You’d come over early to get dressed with Daphne, wanting to help make sure she was perfect. She had finally revealed to you her ruse she was sharing with the Duke, you being the first person outside of their agreement to know. You were shocked at first, but as you listened to her speak, you gave her a knowing smile.

“You love him.”

Her eyes widened in shock, her cheeks blushing a rosy pink. “What? Why would you say that?”

“You love him,” you said again, smiling gently at her. “I’ve never seen you speak with such passion. With the way you talk about him, there’s no other possibility. One couldn’t possibly think that highly of another without feelings being involved—”

“You speak of my brother like that,” Daphne interrupted, chuckling when you swallowed your words.

You chose to ignore her statement, continuing to advise her on the best course of action for how to get through the remainder of her agreed upon days with the Duke. If the way he looked at her without her knowing was of any consequence, you were sure he felt the same way about her. All she had to do was make him see that.

When it was time to leave for the ball, all the Bridgerton’s piled into carriages. Daphne was hurried out the door, and she left with her Mother and Anthony, leaving you behind. When you tried to head back home to be escorted by your family, Benedict stopped you.

He had opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to choke out any words. Normally, he found it pretty easy to talk to you. But for some reason, the sight of you standing by his front door made his knees weak.

“I’m afraid they’ve already left,” he finally said, stopping you at the door. “They must have assumed you’d be accompanied by us.”

You groaned, feeling a pit form in your stomach. “I have no other way to get there. I promised Daphne I’d be there for her. Pen, too. She seemed quite nervous about attending tonight.”

“Not to worry,” he smiled, offering you his arm. “You can ride with me.”

You sighed in relief, thanking him profusely. “Well, aren’t you a lifesaver? Thank you, Benedict.”

“Of course,” he nodded, helping you into the carriage.

As you settled into your seat, a thought occurred to you. “Benedict…why are you still here? Not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t understand. You’ve been talking about going to the palace for days to see the Queen’s gallery. I would have expected you to be the first one out the door. But here you are.”

He was quiet for a moment as he took in your words, his eyes softening on you.

There were many things he could have said to you to easily explain it away. I’ll see the gallery soon anyways, or, I promised my Mother and yours that I’d make sure you got there safely. Numerous excuses he could have come up with to satisfy your curiosity, and yet, all that was coming to mind was, I can see the gallery another time, but I may never get to see you alone and sitting in front of me looking this beautiful with your undivided attention again, and I won’t pass up on the opportunity for anything.

“I don’t know,” he finally said as he shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence. “But here I am.”

—

He didn’t truly acknowledge his feelings for you until months later, after attempting to ignore it for so long.

The second time he noticed was when he found out that the only reason he got into art school was because Anthony made a sizable donation to the Academy.

You had found him alone during yet another ton gathering, sulking on the edge of the party. Daphne had already gone home to Simon, and wouldn’t return for some time. Besides Penelope—and occasionally Eloise—Benedict was one of the only people you actually liked enough to be around. And seeing as both Penelope and Eloise were nowhere to be found, Benedict was your only hope.

You just hadn’t expected to find him nearly in tears, anxiously tugging at the cufflinks at the bottom of his sleeve.

It didn’t take much to get him to spill, and you found yourself pulling him inside to keep him away from prying eyes while he was in such a state. He told you all about Anthony’s meddling, and you knew it had crushed his heart to find out that he hadn’t actually achieved anything on his own.

“I know he did it out of the good of his heart…but I wish he hadn’t done it at all.”

He brought his hands up to cover his face, groaning into them. You reached for his wrists and tried to pull them away, but he wouldn’t budge. He finally relented when you said his name softly, letting you take his hands in yours.

“Benedict, it doesn’t matter how you got in. You’re an incredible artist, that’s all that matters,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours.

He shook his head, sighing in frustration. “I’m not. My work is child’s play compared to the other artists at the Academy. They all knew why I had even been given a spot in the first place. I’m an imposter, Y/N. A fraud. It was humiliating.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, darling,” you lightly chuckled, your smile fading when his defeated look didn’t waver.

“Alright, that’s it. Fess up. This can’t be all that’s bothering you. I know you, and I know you’re not one to give up that easily. You’ve been flustered all week, so what is it? You can tell me. Not that I have anyone to tell, but I won’t tell. I promise.”

His eyes softened on you as you spoke, and you could feel his grip on your hand get tighter. “I just…I’m tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of being second.”

You frowned, swiping your thumb across the back of his hand. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s just something Anthony said,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on your joined hands. “How I may be the second son, but that it doesn’t mean I am any less required to do my duties to the family. It’s rich coming from him. I’ve been second to him literally my entire life, and he’s only recently started taking his role seriously. I’ve played Father’s role since his passing. Isn’t it just my luck that he’s getting the credit for it?”

“You may be second to him in birth, but that is the only way you’re second. You’re every bit as good as him, Benedict,” you said firmly, but you weren’t sure if your words were sinking in.

He was uncharacteristically quiet, though his grip on your hands hadn’t wavered. His eyes were still on the floor, and his shoulders were shaking as he took uneven breaths.

“I know what that feels like, you know,” you finally said, making him glance up at you. “I’m a Featherington. A middle child at that, and it’s no secret my Mother favors my older sisters.”

Benedict let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “She’s wrong to. I don’t mean to be rude, but you and Pen are worlds more interesting and gracious than your sisters. The eldest, at least.”

“You don’t even know them,” you said in shock, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, too.

“I don’t need to. You’re the only one I’m interested in knowing. Middle child or not.”

You couldn’t help but smile, although his kind words weren’t enough. The more you thought about just how second to the world you were, the more your smile faded.

“It’s not just being the middle child,” you continued, speaking softly. “I love your sister more than almost anything in this whole world, but I have always been second to her, too. She was the diamond of the season the second she was let out of leading strings, and now she’s my Duchess. I’m so happy for her, but it does put a damper on your confidence. Watching your best friend grow into this person everyone loves, and it’s like she didn’t even try.”

“Y/N—”

“Sometimes I feel awful, thinking this way. I know she tried, I was there for her every time she’d get overwhelmed. But she made it look so easy. I don’t know how she did it,” you rambled, taking a shuddering breath as you stopped yourself from speaking.

Benedict’s eyes softened on you as you spoke, making you want to shrink away from his gaze. He was being kind, and you didn’t know if it was genuine or not. If he was faking it for your sake, that was much worse than his actual pity.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me, let’s get back to you—”

“Y/N,” he said again, this time effectively silencing you. “You can’t possibly feel that way.”

It was your turn to look at the floor. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s true.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth,” he said gently, taking your hand. “You’re every bit as good as my sister. I know she makes things look easy, but she spoke just as highly of you as you do of her.”

You raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really. She used to tell me how kind you were to her, even after Lady Whistledown printed her supposed scandals. You were never judgemental.”

“I have no right to judge anyone, especially not her. She’s never said a bad thing about anyone, it isn’t right that people just took a scandal sheet as truth. And, if anything, she was kind to me. She, Eloise, Colin, and you are pretty much the only members of the ton that treat me like a normal person and not an outcast because of who my family is.”

Benedict smiled, squeezing your hand. “I would never dream of treating you any other way.”

You fought the flush that crept up to your cheeks, feeling the heat settle in them. You cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“Anyway,” you smiled, meeting his eyes. “I don’t mean to keep you away. Should we go back to the party? Someone may be looking for you. You’re quite popular, you know.”

Benedict couldn’t help but smile. And as he watched you look up at him through gentle eyes and an open heart, he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was like his feet were stuck to the floor, and he didn’t want to do anything to pull them up. He shook his head, keeping his hand in yours.

“No,” he finally answered, taking a seat. “Let them look. I’d much rather spend my evening with you. If you’ll allow me to, that is.”

You shook your head, taking a seat next to him. “I’ve got nowhere I’d rather be.”

—

The third time he noticed was when you, Daphne, and he accompanied Penelope and Colin to promenade throughout the square. She and Simon had come to visit, and she wanted to spend time with you and her family.

This time, he couldn’t ignore his feelings.

You followed behind Colin and Penelope, giving them enough room to speak privately without feeling like their older siblings were on their backs. You smiled as you watched Penelope look up at him, Colin being as gentlemanly as ever.

“It took him long enough,” you said, making Benedict chuckle.

“I thought he’d never figure it out.”

“Me either,” you agreed, grinning as you watched Colin smile down at your sister. “I should bash him over the head. I’ve listened to Pen spend countless hours rambling on about how utterly oblivious Colin can be. He owes me a debt.”

“He isn’t the only oblivious person I know,” Daphne piped in, making your eyes widen.

You had told her countless times about your feelings for Benedict, and how he never seemed to reciprocate them.

What you didn’t know is that he had done the same, on more than one occasion going to his siblings for advice on how to address them. Pushing them down until he couldn’t feel them seemed to be working, at least until now. And as far as he knew, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings either.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said nervously, silently pleading with her to drop the subject.

“Neither do I,” Benedict added, making Daphne chuckle.

She just grinned, ever so slightly raising a brow. “I mean Anthony, of course. It took him quite a while to realize that what he felt for Kate was much more than rivalry. I practically had to beg it out of him.”

“You’re a little matchmaker, aren’t you?” You asked, smiling at her. “Who’s next? Eloise, perhaps?”

“Perhaps…you?”

You immediately stilled, making them stop, too. “Me?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for ages, and I know what’s good for you. You’re lonely. And as awful as it is, the ton will start to talk. If the only people you talk to outside of your own family are Benedict and I, they’ll begin to notice.”

You frowned, nodding. She was right. Harsh, but right. The threat of becoming a spinster was looming over your head every season, and it had only gotten worse after Daphne married in her first season. Your second season came and went, and you were now in your third.

Without any prospects.

And it was looking like your baby sister was going to beat you to the punch as well. You were silent, a small frown on your face.

Thankfully, Benedict broke the silence. Just the thought of you marrying someone—especially someone who didn’t deserve you—made his skin crawl. He felt like he could keel over, and by the look on your face, he could tell you were feeling similarly. He couldn’t keep himself from turning you away from Daphne’s advice.

“Why settle?” He asked cautiously, giving you a sympathetic look. “Don’t let the ton pressure you. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”

You had fully made it around the square, now back in front of your house. Penelope was saying goodbye to Colin, at least for the moment. His Mother invited you and Penelope to dinner to welcome Simon and Daphne home, and so they’d see each other again in mere hours.

You gave Benedict a grateful smile, nodding. “You’re right. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time to pull our siblings apart before they actually become attached at the hip. Mother wants us home before we join you later.”

Daphne chuckled, taking your hands in hers. “I think you’re right. I’ll see you soon, dearest.”

You squeezed her hands in yours, before going to gather your sister. You gave Colin a knowing smile, turning and heading inside with your sister in tow. The Bridgerton’s did the same, filing into their house one by one.

The second Benedict shut the door behind him, he collapsed against it, groaning. “What was all that for, Daph?”

“What? I was simply giving you both a little nudge. God knows you needed one. You’re even worse than Colin was, brother.”

“I don’t need a nudge. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Colin laughed, taking off his coat as he headed up the stairs. “I could hear your stuttering. It was laughable.”

“Oh, piss off,” Benedict pouted, waving away Colin as he chuckled the rest of the way up the stairs.

Daphne offered him a small smile, letting out a sigh. She took his arm, leading them to the sitting room. After promptly sitting down, she gave him an expectant look, and he reluctantly sat next to her.

“Out with it,” she urged. “Why did our conversation with Y/N bother you so?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed, shaking his head.

Daphne narrowed her eyes, speaking gently but firmly. “You do know, Benedict. Admit it. You feel something for her.”

“Does it matter? She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Daphne exasperatedly asked, nearly bursting at the seams.

She knew of both your affections for each other, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to tell either of you about the other. It didn’t feel right, going behind the other’s back. She had decided the moment she knew of each of your feelings to let the matter run its own course. What she hadn’t anticipated was it taking this long.

It was getting near impossible to keep the secret, and she decided a little meddling was excusable.

“She’s never said anything to me that would allude to her feeling anything for me. What would you have me do? Ask her directly?”

“There’s an idea,” Daphne shrugged.

Benedict sighed, trying to shove down the anxiety he felt at the thought of confronting you. “You saw me out there. I wouldn’t even know where to start. How do I talk to her?”

“You’ve known her as long as I have, brother. She’s your best friend! Just talk to her. She’ll understand, I promise. She won’t hurt your feelings if that’s what you’re worried about. You know she won’t.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m going to be sick at the mere thought of talking to her about it?”

Daphne smiled, her eyes softening. “Because you love her.”

Benedict’s shoulders fell, like Daphne just saying it out loud was the first time he was admitting it to himself. Like his feelings hadn’t fully sunk in, and now they were hitting him all at once like a freight train. It was a realization for him, and it both excited and terrified him at the same time. His emotion was clear on his face as his mouth fell open, making Daphne’s smile widen.

“Don’t worry, brother,” she reassured him. “It will all work out. I truly believe that. Take the afternoon to yourself, and keep your mind off of it till dinner. You’ll know the right thing to say when it’s time.”

—

That evening, you returned to the Bridgerton’s residence with Penelope.

The family gathered in the sitting room before dinner was ready, but Daphne pulled you away before you could follow. She took you all the way to the backyard, sitting down on the swing. She motioned for you to follow, and you took a seat on the swing next to her.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier,” she said softly. “I saw your face, I know I upset you. That wasn’t my intention, and I hope you can forgive me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. I needed to hear it. I might not like it, but I needed to hear it.”

“It hurt, Y/N. You don’t have to minimize that to spare my feelings. It’s alright to admit it. Do you…do you want to talk about it? I think there’s something more to it that’s bothering you, love.”

She was right.

Of course she was, she was always right. You sighed, turning to look back through the window into the house. You could see Penelope standing with the rest of the family, laughing at something Colin was telling her. He was smiling down at her like she had hung every star in the sky, just so he could have the chance to watch them sparkle. It was beautiful.

And it was painful.

“I just,” you started, keeping your eyes on Penelope. “I’m happy for her. I’m so happy for her. But I’m feeling a bit left behind.”

Daphne took your hand, leaning closer. “What do you mean?”

“I feel so selfish saying this, but…it’s what I want. She’s getting all that I want. All my life, I’ve wanted what you and your family have. You’re all so loved, and you love each other so deeply. Pen deserves that, I want her to have that. And I have no doubt that by the end of the season, she’ll have it. She’ll marry Colin, and officially be a Bridgerton. Part of the family. But she won’t be mine anymore. And I won’t be hers.”

Daphne frowned, squeezing your hand in hers. She turned you to meet her eyes, giving you a knowing look.

“I have a feeling this has more to do with a certain brother of mine. And I don’t mean Colin.”

You frowned, and she knew she was right.

“This is about Benedict. With Penelope being with Colin, it’s a reminder that you’re not with him. And you want to be with him.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings any longer. “I do. God, I really do. But it’s more than that. I want to be his family. I want to be your family.”

“And you’ve had to silently watch Penelope get what you’ve been waiting for,” Daphne said in realization, her heart breaking when you nodded.

Daphne stood up, pulling you with her. She wrapped you into a tight hug, refusing to relent until you hugged her back. You sighed in frustration, letting her gently rock you back and forth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, pulling away. “You’re already my sister. Regardless of who you end up with, whether it’s my brother or not. Wherever you end up, it doesn’t matter. You will always be my sister. You never have to worry about that. Not ever.”

You smiled softly, squeezing her hands. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a throat cleared behind you. You quickly turned to see Benedict standing at the door.

“Mother told me to come collect you both. Dinner will be soon. Daph, Simon is asking after you.”

Daphne nodded, turning back to you. “Come along, then.”

“Actually,” Benedict interrupted, his eyes falling on you. “Could I have a moment alone with Y/N, please? If it’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” you said nervously, nodding towards Daphne.

Daphne smiled, nodding back. She patted Benedict on the shoulder as she headed back inside, closing the door behind her.

When she was gone, Benedict gave you a sheepish smile. He motioned for you to sit down, and you took a seat on the swing. He sat on the swing next to you, turning his body so that he was facing you. His knees brushed yours as he settled.

“What is it?” You asked, giving him all your attention.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Your eyes softened on him, and you laid your hand on his arm. “I’m alright, Ben. Better now, since you’ve arrived.”

“Cheesy,” he smiled, but his heart was fluttering in his chest. “You know how to make a man smile, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything in particular,” you shrugged.

Benedict’s smile widened, and he couldn’t help but ponder his feelings for you. From the moment he found you alone on his doorstep, to when you took care of him at his lowest. From the way you treated his family, to the selflessness you never failed to put before your own wishes. From the way you made him feel, to the way he so desperately hoped you felt. He couldn’t stop himself from confessing, hoping his words wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

“I have to tell you something,” he murmured, taking a shuddering breath after he realized what he said, and what he was about to do.

You nodded. “What is it?”

“I think—and in case this is a huge mistake on my part, please forgive me—but, I think…I think I’m in love with you.”

You stiffened, standing up from the swing. “What?”

“I,” he stuttered, standing up as well. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was—”

You cut him off, taking his hands in yours. “Say it again.”

Benedict’s eyes widened, and you had caught him at a loss for words. He felt like you had punched him in the gut, sending him to his knees. But he nodded, squeezing your hands in his.

“I love you,” he said again, softer this time as he looked at you through gentle eyes. “I’ve loved you from the moment you got into that carriage with me, and I’ve loved you every moment since. I love you.”

Your shoulders fell, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, clinging tightly to his hands. You felt like your knees could give out, and the only thing holding you up was him.

“You’re not lying? You’re serious?”

Benedict almost laughed, nodding. “Yes, Y/N. I’m serious. Do you really think I would jest about this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “All that time. All that time, and you couldn’t tell me? You certainly waited long enough.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, darling,” he said, cocking his head in confusion.

You were starting to worry him now, concern written all over his face. It made your heart clench in your chest.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were so happy, you couldn’t help but hold him close, smiling wider when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, despite his confusion. You held him tight, standing up on your toes so he could hear you loud and clear.

“I love you too, Benedict.”

He instantly pulled away, holding you back at arms length. “You what?”

“I love you,” you said again, taking his hands. “And I’ve been waiting ages for the day you’d finally tell me you felt the same. I never thought I’d hear you say the words, but I am so happy that you did.”

It was his turn to ask. “You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”

You shook your head, and he squeezed your hands. You brought one of your joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of his, smiling up at him.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to write. Not sure why this one was so difficult, but I finished it! I hope you enjoyed it :)

[strawberrystepmom]

the one

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 10k

about: in the aftermath of incredible loss and pain and nearly losing satoru himself, a week long road trip on one of the most famous routes in the world solidifies what you've already known to be true about gojo - he is the one for you & you for him.

contents: nsfw - mdni. established relationship (reader and gojo are engaged), story told through vignettes, major spoilers for ch 220 and beyond although the story is not canon compliant (gojo dies and is revived), major character deaths and discussion of them, descriptions of anxiety, panic attacks, and dealing with trauma, discussions about marriage and engagement, mentions of blood and injury.

gojo has an identity crisis, reader is a teacher and is appointed interim principal of the Tokyo campus, lots of flowery descriptions of nature and of my beloved california (i am not a california girl but i have longed my whole life 2 be one), gojo is referred to as husband, sweetheart, and baby, reader is referred to as wife, angel, pretty, and baby, reader has breasts, small smut scene with sensual and romantic unprotected piv sex, mutual body worship, vaginal fingering, creampie.

notes: if you have made it to this point and still want to read, thank you. this is a love letter spritzed with parfums de marly delina sent directly to gojo satoru from me and i'm very proud of this work.

he's so important to me and i think exploring him when he can't hide behind the veneer of being strong anymore is one of the most worthwhile uses of my time since ever. i hope that you enjoy ♡

wavy divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!!!!

One week.

One measly, little week - 168 hours or seven unique opportunities to see the sun rise and set - is all you’re asking to be granted while promising all but your limbs and hypothetical first born child to the acting principal of both the Kyoto and Tokyo campuses following the deaths of both Yaga and Gakuganji.

Utahime’s arms are folded over her chest and her mouth is set in a firm line while taking everything that has happened over the last month into consideration. Do you guys even have time for a break of any kind? 

Time, as you and her have both learned since that fateful night in Shibuya, becomes more difficult to quantify when you feel it’s slipping away. Every day since October 31st has felt like something each of you have had to earn rather than been given by sheer act of existence. It has been a fight since the moment each of you stepped foot into the railway station and now that it’s over, things feel so undefined. 

What comes next now that the immediate evil is gone? There will always be another threat of danger that appears as soon as one is eliminated and all that’s left of the sorcery community learned the hard way that sometimes that evil proves difficult without the man who has worked tirelessly to keep all of you safe around.

“Please. He needs this so badly and I know if I don’t force him to stop, he won’t.”

Your plea causes her gaze to shift from downward to your face and Utahime’s distaste for the man in question all but disappears when she looks over the concerned furrow of your brow and the dark circles under your eyes. She watched Gojo being whisked away to return to the Tokyo campus, the place where the two of you are sitting and having this discussion, ripped to all but bits but still throwing his thumb up to confirm he’s okay to everyone’s mixed annoyance and amusement. 

Contemplating every aspect of the situation for a moment, she comes to the conclusion that this week is something both of you need and there’s no viable way for her to tell you no. Not when you look so desperate, hands shaking and eyes sunken. 

Despite the mess you will be leaving behind, building debris and rubble the mere surface of the ripples caused in your small community and wider society by Satoru’s defeat of Kenjaku and Sukuna both within days of each other, she feels there’s no other option but to reluctantly give in.

“Okay.”

The tone of her voice is so tentative you’re expecting a but as her very next word but she shuts her mouth with finality written across her face. Grateful, you bow your head and blink back tears but she walks toward you and grabs one of your hands. She squeezes it gently, reminding herself to avoid the spots you broke it in 7 weeks ago and you find the sudden change in her demeanor concerning. 

Did she change her mind? Is he going to have to go from half dead on a cold metal table right back into the swing of things? 

“When you get back, be ready because you’re in charge here.”

The news comes as a shock and she can tell, your eyes widening and hollowing further. Bile rises in your throat and you swallow, blinking additional tears back, ashamed that your weakness is what represents the strongest individuals you’ve ever met and not just the one who your heart belongs to.

Iori doesn’t stick around for long to watch you come to terms with your new position, simply squeezing your hand and patting it with the back of her other one, before dropping it to slink off to her students that stand on the opposite side of the lounge everyone is occupying. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you use the time to balance yourself and remember that you can deal with the upcoming challenges when you return. What’s most important is the here and now and there are a few things you’re currently sure of. 

First, Satoru is alive and breathing despite the terror you experienced when he was not. Second, you have at least one week to contemplate your own future and in true procrastinator form, you will wait until the last minute to even begin processing the weight of the responsibilities that have been placed on your shoulders. 

“He’s asking for you.”

Shoko’s approach is stealthy and you don’t notice her until she’s pulling a glove off beside you, the snap of the latex making you forget the tidy little list you were creating in your head. She doesn’t look any more morose than usual and you take it as a good sign, awkwardly nodding and keeping your head pointed toward the ground to avoid prying eyes. 

It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know about the two of you but there’s no plausible deniability anymore. No coy smiles and playing it off like it’s no big deal, not when there’s an engagement ring nestled safely in its box on your nightstand at home and when he’s asking for you as soon as he wakes up.

The room is eerily silent as you shuffle out of it beside one of your oldest friends and this is where she finally drapes an arm around your shoulder, stopping you and crowding you off to the side of the hallway. 

“He doesn’t look like himself right now,” she warns and you nod. You expected it, his energy depleted by the time both battles were won, but you still swallow thickly and struggle to get the lump in your throat down. Once she’s certain you are okay, she nods and keeps her arm around your shoulder until you reach the metal door to her domain that separates you and the love of your life.

“I’m going to give you two some privacy but if you need me you know where I’ll be.”

You’re sure she’s grateful for the reprieve, catching sight of her puffy eyes as she turns to walk away. You stop her and she smiles wordlessly, friends for long enough that the two of you know what the other is thinking. 

Thank you, I know, I’m glad he’s okay too.

Pushing the door open you hear an exaggerated groan and a watery giggle bubbles out of you. He just can’t help himself, one arm wrapped securely and safely and the other still oozing through its bandages. His torso is exposed and you can see the blow that killed him firsthand, an unnaturally precise cut across his lower abdomen. 

This is the sight that chokes you up and he chuckles weakly, unable to lift his head more than a few inches. He does look different, covered in scrapes and cuts and blood of uncertain origin, but he’s still himself. Those dimples still stick out against his pale skin when he smiles weakly at you and despite its pinkish hue, his white hair sticks up on end like it always does.

“No crying, baby.”

Sniffling, you look toward the cold tiles below and he tuts from the operating table. Holding his cleanly wrapped arm up he curls a finger toward himself to beckon you over.

“C‘mere.”

Slowly, you do. Each footstep feels as though you’re walking across cracking ice and it makes you cautious, scared that you’ve deluded yourself into believing that he’s here and he’s fine and things are going to be okay and in the midst of the angst, suddenly you remember - he is. 

He’s in front of you and breathing and you can’t stop the tears from falling when you reach the edge of the table, reaching to cup his face in your palms like you always do. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Another weak chuckle and he wraps his hand around one of your wrists, delicately holding it with his thumb and index finger. 

“Didn’t you say that about the prison realm too?”

Nodding and sniffling, you smile and he smiles back. It’s warm and inviting and all you can think about is how you feared you’d never see it again; that he’d become another loss forcing you to grow colder and colder until the inevitability of becoming a husk like the other sorcerers in your life would come true. 

“Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I need some new material.”

A chuckle that turns into a wince makes you coo and his half smile instantly turns smug, one corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk. 

“I have always been the funny one, haven’t I?”

Scoffing, you don’t playfully swat at him like you always do and he misses it. The gentle swipe of your fingers across his pec or shoulder or arm to let him know he has entertained you is something he will not take for granted from this day forward. His chest tightens and his loose grip around your wrist tightens.

It hasn’t registered quite yet that he almost never saw you again twice. That realization will come painfully when he’s struggling to sleep some night, wrapping himself around your body to be certain you will never leave his side, as all of his realizations about his own mortality do. 

Until then he’ll embrace the reality in front of him.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he whispers and you see a shadow of sadness cross his face, smirk drooping into a frown. Your palms on his skin leech warmth into his tired bones and he shifts his head to lean into one of your hands, eyes fluttering shut and staying that way until he musters enough humility to say what he wants to say to you the most.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s still the coward's way out but he’s simply too tired and weakened to go into the specifics of everything he’s sorry for. Is strength even worth it if you still managed to save so few people you care about? The weight of the world remains on his shoulders and you carefully lean over him, pressing your cheek to his and shifting your hands from his face to his shoulders. 

“Oh sweetheart,” it’s a nickname you rarely use for him and it makes his heart leap to hear it even when your voice cracks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Never to me.”

He wishes he agreed with you. 

“Well, I am and nothing like this will ever happen again.”

The unspoken truth between both of you is that he said the same thing when he was released from the prison realm weeks ago and yet, this happened.

“You can’t control everything, Satoru.” You lift your cheek from his and glance down at him to see his eyes half open. “Nothing that has happened is your fault.”

Something else he wishes he could agree with. He gives you a small smile and you lean to kiss his cheek, shutting your eyes tightly to keep from breaking into absolute hysterics. You’ve been teetering on the edge for days but you know this is not the time for your usual dramatics, it’s time to hold it together for him like he has done for you so many times.

“But we can and should talk about this more on our trip.”

His half open eyes shoot open and he looks at you with uncertainty etched in all of his pretty features. 

“Trip?”

Currently, he’s in no condition to go anywhere except for hopefully home with you tonight, but a few more hours with Shoko and his cursed energy slowly returning should be enough to get the process of healing going but he knows you know that and wonders what your angle is. 

“Road trip. Very little impact, all we have to do is fly to California and don’t worry, I’ll drive the whole time.”

He smiles and chuckles, reaching to capture your hand in his own and lift your palm to his mouth. Kissing you gently, he sits up a little more now that he’s feeling stronger and you lean on the side of the table.

“How long?”

“I had to practically beg for it but we both have a whole week off. The road trip will be 5 days and we’ll have two days to travel there and back.”

Summarizing the trip aloud makes it feel real despite you having done no work to make it so, eager to see him and how he’s doing before making any solid plans, but you can tell that he’s interested based solely by the look on his face. Still, you worry it’s too soon and too much after everything that has happened.

“Do you want to? We can always hold off and do it another time if you don’t feel up to it.”

He shakes his head and kisses your palm again, molding your fingers to the curve of his face so that he can be held by you for just a little while. Your touch may not heal him physically but it fills the gaps in his soul, the little pieces he has been torn into since October 31st, and he needs it more than he needs another session of energy granted to him from Shoko right now.

“I want to go as soon as we can. Especially if I get to look pretty in the passenger seat the entire time.”

It’s so beautiful to have him come back to you a bit at a time and your heart swells until you’re afraid it’ll burst when you look down at him. His eyes are shut again and his cheek fits perfectly in your palm, just as it always does. 

He lived and now he gets to have a week by your side with no responsibilities. If he weren’t so comforted by your presence right now, certain you are real and tangible and holding him to the best of your ability in his current condition, he would believe that he’s still dead.

“I should let Shoko get back to work,” you say finally and he whines. A little bit more of him comes back with each passing moment and emotion swells again, your eyes burning when they start to well up. 

“I love you,” he whispers and you lean down to kiss him for real, your soft lips hungrily pressing against his dry and split ones for the first time since he left you and came back. It’s familiar and it sends you over the edge, tears breeching your closed eyes and dripping onto his cheek. He laughs, although it’s a bit hollow, and you back your face away from his.

“I told you no crying.”

You laugh and lean in to steal another kiss, his arm wrapping around your body and cupping your hip. The kiss grows in intensity, although it’s more a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths more than it is an earnest makeout session, and his hand slides from your hip to your ass just as the metal door screeches open.

“Save that for when I send him home with you tonight.”

Heels clack across the tile floor and you peel yourself away from Satoru, who keeps his hand firmly cupping your ass, turning your head to see Shoko snapping on a pair of gloves and walking toward her patient. You shoot her a grateful smile and she nods her head, letting you lean in for one more kiss before reluctantly parting.

“Man I love her,” you hear him mutter to Shoko who laughs and shakes her head as you’re leaving. 

“Yeah, I know. You never shut up about it even when you’re half dead.”

DAY 1 - SAN FRANCISCO, CA

Your flight landed three hours ago, 9 hours passing far more quickly than you expected. Satoru held your hand the entire flight and you let him have the window seat, watching clouds obscure the light dancing over his face every time he'd shift his gaze toward the sky outside. Looking at him never gets old, even with a baseball cap pulled over his face to obscure his injuries despite how much they’ve improved since days ago. 

Disembarking and entering the airport felt like going through the motions and you realized while grabbing your luggage that it has felt like that all day. It feels like just going through the motions despite everything and your excitement for the next several days and guilt gnaws at you because of it. Shouldn’t you be living every day, minute, second as joyfully as possible given Satoru is alive and with you? Why do you still feel so bad?

The feeling remains a mystery while the two of you gradually make your way out of the airport and into the cool city lying outside, your rental car already picked up and the keys jingling in your hand as you unlock the door to load everything up. Gojo takes the duties over for you and you smile at him gratefully, heading to the driver’s seat to get settled in.

“You alright?”

He has asked you many times today how you’re doing and your answer has been a polite nod and a smile each time, maybe a muttered “yeah I’m alright” if he’s lucky, but he can tell something is bothering you. Chalking it up to travel anxiety, he slides into the passenger seat and finally takes his hat off, chucking it aside. You watch his wispy hair fall over his face, the dark bruise on his cheekbone finally looking lighter than it did when you left Tokyo this morning and you genuinely smile for the first time all day.

“Hello handsome.”

Satoru chuckles and you laugh along with him, eyes crinkling at the corners. You aren’t sure if it’s exhausted delirium making you feel better but you allow yourself to feel at ease for the first time in weeks, settling into your seat and starting the engine of the mid size SUV that will be your chariot for the next several days.

“Do you wanna go straight to the hotel or did you want to stop somewhere first?”

He hums, thinking, and his stomach growls which gives him his answer.

“Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

You nod, tipping your head toward his phone.

“Your pick. Find a place and I’ll get us there.”

Picking the device up, he smiles at the sight of your face next to his on the screen, matching grins as big as your faces. Hopefully there will be opportunities for more photos just like that one on this trip despite how worn both of you feel right now. 

Even smiling sounds exhausting at this point but he musters one for you, opening the app with a little map as its logo, searching for restaurants near the airport. He wrinkles his nose at the list of chain restaurants and settles on a deli that looks easy to get in and out of, disinterested in a sit down meal. 

He turns the phone in your direction.

“Sounds good?”

You hum affirmatively and press on the screen, a digital voice through the speaker giving you turn by turn directions. You’ve visited San Francisco before and so has he, just not together, and the two of you smile contentedly watching the city roll by and you’ve arrived before you know it, parking on the sidewalk outside of the entrance. He grabs the cap he dropped onto the floorboards and slips it over his head, the bill covering his bruised eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you don’t notice he’s glancing at you until you turn to look at him and his brow is furrowed in concern. You are wound as tightly as he’s ever seen you and he worries this entire trip and the pressure of it is stressing you out more than you already are, the opposite of the desired effect. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, angel?”

Nodding, you plaster on a quick smile and reach for the door handle. 

“I think I’m just tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept well.”

He understands not to push any further despite lingering concern and he opens his door, stepping out into the cool evening and sighing contentedly, stretching his long limbs out. Still a little stiff from his injuries, he waits on the sidewalk for you to round the car and join him and wiggles his arms and hands. 

“You look so cute when you do that,” you mutter with a smile. For a moment, his concern quiets down but your face falls so quickly it comes straight back. Coming to his side, you clutch his hand as if it’s an anchor keeping you sane and nod in the direction of the door. “After you, baby.”

Gladly, he pulls you along with him and the bell over the door dings. It’s a small space and while not packed wall to wall, it’s more crowded than you expected on a weekday evening and you take it in stride, the overhead lighting making your eyes burn after a day spent in mostly darkness. Satoru leans down and kisses the top of your head, inspecting the menu hanging from the ceiling, keeping his mouth pressed against your hair and humming. It’s comforting and you appreciate the gesture, he knows you well enough to be able to tell when you’re struggling, but you can’t focus on what’s happening with the pit in your stomach growing wider by the second.

This room full of people has no idea what either of you have just been through. The weeks of hell, watching the man you love so much you’re afraid it will be your downfall, die in front of you and return like Lazarus himself, your best friend’s death. 

Your hands start to shake and your mouth runs dry.

They have no idea your fiancé just killed the body of a man he loved dearly for the second time or that children he assisted raising both lost their lives in the process. These strangers will never know or understand what happened, their lives continuing as carelessly and freely as they always have, and a lump develops in your throat remembering the responsibilities waiting for you when you return home. 

Your life has changed forever and the world keeps turning, a notion that is suffocating.

It has been years since your last panic attack but you recognize the feeling immediately. The room shrinks and you laugh nervously, balling your fists. Satoru recognizes something is wrong and tries to grab your attention, quietly mouthing words you can’t make out. Shaking your head and blinking, you laugh again and he uses his grip on your hand to gently guide you toward the door. He keeps his steps short and soft to make sure you stay with him until the two of you are able to find a way to slip outside. 

Bending at the knees slightly to come face level with you, he cups your face with your free hand and knits his brows together. If you can't remember the last time you had a panic attack neither can he and he wracks his tired brain to figure out how to make this better. You aren’t asking him to, just for his support, but he has failed to keep you safe and happy so many times he can’t bear to let you fall victim to your own mind while he stands and breathes beside you.

“Come on, let’s get in the car.”

Nodding, you can’t fight the tears anymore and they start to flow freely, dripping down your face and onto the sidewalk below as you let go of his hand long enough to skulk to the driver’s seat of the SUV. Opening the door and sliding in, the door has barely shut by the time you sob aloud, gasping for air and lifting your shaking hands to your face. 

Satoru grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pulls your hands down from your cheeks gently, using his other hand to position your head until you’re facing him. Seeing you like this utterly rends him, his own throat tightening watching you struggle to breathe. Without thinking, he does what he would do for his students in this situation.

“Can you breathe for me?”

Despite how sobs make your shoulders shake, you nod and try to inhale deeply through your nose. It still doesn’t feel like enough air but you panic less once it reaches your lungs, exhaling through your mouth.

“Oh, baby.” He hates that this is the only thing he can think of to say. There has and never will be a point where he’s better at words of comfort than you are and it intimidates him how his blindspots only come to light when people need him the most. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Without thinking, you blurt out the news you wanted to tell him after you returned home. 

“They’re making me principal.”

His eyes widen and he starts to grin but it dims as soon as he sees more tears fall down your face, your sniffling filling the car.

“They picked the best person for the job,” he comforts and you shake your head, refusing to believe that it’s true.

“They picked the easiest scapegoat. They’re going to kill me just like they did Yaga.”

The people who killed Yaga have been permanently removed from their positions by two of your students, their deaths coming just before Satoru’s battle with Sukuna began, but you still worry about what comes next. The clans now hold all of the power and if they’re angry enough over what occurred, you’re the person who will be on the hook to deal with it all.

“No one is going to do that, I would never let them.”

You sniffle and look away, brows furrowed while tears drip into your lap.

“What if it isn’t your choice, Satoru?”

A dark thought consumes the usually easy going man, his stomach turning. Has your faith in him wavered? Do you think he wouldn’t cut down anyone who dared try to hurt or upset you? 

“Look at me?”

You do, just as you do any time he asks, and he sighs defeatedly. Now your hackles are raised because you’re worried about him, sniffling and reaching across the car for him. You clutch onto his t-shirt and he lets you, the fabric spilling between your fingers.

“I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.” You’ve never seen him look so serious, no trace of humor to be found anywhere. No glimmer in his tired blue eyes, no upturned lip to reveal a dimple. You know he needs this confirmation and you nod, sniffling and pulling him closer to you with his shirt.

“Do you trust me?” You nod but it isn’t enough, his gaze still hardened. “I need you to say it.”

Swallowing to try and wet your dry mouth, you nod again and sniffle.

“I trust you with everything and I always will.” Another sniffle but you feel more normal, your breaths still coming quicker than usual but slowly steadying with each moment that passes. Keeping his shirt in your balled fists, you sigh and shake your head. “This isn’t about not trusting you, it’s about being afraid of what comes next.”

Now he understands. 

Your faith in him is unshakeable, something you have told him more times than you can count and meant every single one, but the future itself is terrifying. Nobody knows what is coming next, least of all you.

“I know but just like you always tell me, things will work out how they’re supposed to and if they don’t, I will kill anyone who is mean to you.”

Finally, this draws a watery laugh from you and he softens, posture slackening. His stomach growls again and you whine, upset that your own antics prevented him from doing what you two came here to do in the first place - eat.

“I’m sorry about this,” you mumble and he leans over the console to kiss your forehead. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’d rather get room service anyway.”

Sniffling again, you untangle your hands from his shirt and turn toward the wheel, positioning yourself to start driving again.

“Wanna go to the hotel then?”

He nods with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Do you want me to drive?”

You shake your head, face looking far less distraught than it did a few minutes ago, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Will you really kill anyone who is mean to me?”

He hums exaggeratedly to accompany an animated nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he squeezes your shoulder with his arm.

“I’m a nice guy, what can I say?”

DAY 3 - MONTEREY, CA TO BIG SUR, CA

The California coastline glimmers beneath the sun and although you’re driving, you keep sneaking glances toward the edge of the highway, eyes widening every time something beautiful comes into view. You may as well keep them wide open, constantly amazed by the world surrounding you even as it breezes past while you drive.

Day 2 went off without a hitch for the most part, no panic attacks or the like occurring, but you noticed this morning that Satoru seemed quiet. His usual exuberance has been missing from your conversations, instead dimmed down into something that feels like an imitation of the man. You understand this is part of the process of coming to terms with everything that happens but you feel guilty, as if your outburst is keeping him from feeling comfortable enough to be himself.

It could also have nothing to do with you but it’s easier to blame yourself than it is to think about anything else that could possibly be bothering him, your tendency to fall on your sword even worse when it comes to him. The devotion he gives you is returned in full, your natural instinct always to keep him happy and away from anything that could hurt him as unfair as it can be to do so. 

You can’t protect anyone from sorrow, it comes as naturally as the waves wash up on the shore below you, all you can do is witness it unfold and hope it doesn’t become a tsunami.

The two of you have been driving in comfortable silence for miles, occasionally oohing aloud at the cliff sides, but it has become less comfortable now that you’re thinking about how it has been like this all day. You try to think of something to talk about but come up short, focusing on the road, and he captures your attention when he speaks.

“I saw them, you know. When I died.”

You raise your eyebrows but don’t look at him, keeping your focus on the road.

“Did you?”

Satoru nods and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, carelessly sticking his hand out of the small crack in the unrolled window. It isn’t big enough to let the chilly winter air through but it’s just wide enough for him to feel the wind at 40 mph with his Infinity off. 

“Yup, they asked me about you. How you’re doing.”

He doesn’t have to say who he saw but you know, gut churning. It’s unlikely that Kento would ask, given you were one of the last people he saw before meeting his fate but Yu and - as painful as it is to even recall his name sometimes - Suguru would. 

“What’d you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Raising a brow, you focus on the road ahead of you and drum your fingertips idly against the sides of the steering wheel hoping he’ll elaborate on what the truth actually is. The silence sits heavier than you’d like it to and you open your mouth to end it but he beats you to the punch, head tipped back against the seat he’s sitting in. 

“Told them about us and that we’re going to get married.” You smile and he watches your cheek curve, mirroring it with one of his own that fades quickly while he continues speaking. “Told them you’re probably doing pretty badly because I failed to keep you safe. That you have been dead already.”

Shooting him a glance out of the corner of your eye, it’s hard to convey exactly how his words affect you while navigating a vehicle down an elevated single lane highway. 

Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to exist vulnerably. You’ve always been the wall between himself and the world, the place where he has allowed himself to soften and take down all airs, but now he wonders what it would be like if he extended that beyond just you. Other friends, what remains of his family, his students. He could never fully give himself to anyone the way he has to you but it’s something to consider while he spreads his fingers and lets the wind blow through them.

Does he deserve any of this?

He didn’t keep you safe. He didn’t keep Megumi or Tsumiki or Nobara safe. He failed, yet here he sits by your side, cold air chilling the tips of his fingers. In an instant, he feels nothing, turning his Infinity on wordlessly and keeping his gaze locked on the trees rushing by his window while you consider what to say to help him right now. 

“It has never been your responsibility to keep me safe, Satoru.”

He chuckles humorlessly and swallows so thickly you can hear it even with the sound of air entering the car through the cracked window. 

“For my entire life, my only purpose has been to keep people safe. If I can’t do that, what can I do?”

Glancing at the road, you spot the shoulder and decide to pull off to the side, parking and turning on your lights. Satoru has been wordless and still for longer than you’ve ever seen him and your heart breaks imagining how he must feel right now. 

The weight of the world is a heavy burden to carry and he has done it since before he could form full sentences, a fact you forget because he wears the responsibility as though it’s a cloak he can shrug off at any time, but you know that he takes it far more seriously inwardly. His life has been wrapped up in grooming him to be not simply a protector, but the protector, the gatekeeper of the insular society the two of you are a part of.

“Look at me?”

You ask just as he asked you to do two days ago and he does, the quarter turn of his head giving you an actual view of his face for the first time all day. He looks better than he did yesterday, scratches and bruises healing far faster than they would otherwise as he restores his energy. His eyes meet yours for a minute and you catch the shimmer that means his Infinity is turned on and you look away from him to compose yourself. 

His carefully crafted facade has shattered at his feet - he’ll always be The Strongest but his weakness was exposed in the form of bleeding out, severed through the middle, on a battlefield. What is he supposed to do now? 

Your eyes turn toward him once again and you sigh though it holds nothing but concern and you unbuckle your seatbelt to shift your body until you’re facing him, knees pressed against the center console. He half smiles and chuckles to himself seeing you move and get comfortable but it dies as quickly as it came, his head still pressed to the headrest while looking directly at you.

All you can do is help him pick up the pieces and figure out who he wants to be now that he has the ability to choose. 

“You know I don’t love you because you’re strong, right?”

He shrugs.

“I’m sure it probably helps.”

“No, Satoru. I love you because you make me laugh and cry and get angry sometimes. You let me be myself and never ask that I be anyone different even though I’m sure it would make your life easier if I were less stubborn and set in my ways.”

Getting choked up, you stop yourself and his eyes stop shimmering, Infinity off. He reaches across the center console and holds your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it and feeling the puckered wounds that are becoming eerily smooth scars. Swallowing, you blink and will yourself to keep it together until you get through what you have to say.

“I love you because you are courageous and that has nothing to do with your abilities, that’s who you are in your heart. You care so much despite how little you try to show it and your devotion goes deeper than the ocean and you are loyal and…”

Trailing off, searching for the words to sum up how you feel about him, he squeezes his hand and you see a peek of him in the soft smile on his face. Tipping his head to the side, he widens his eyes.

“You forgot handsome.”

Despite being near tears, you laugh and he feels warmer just listening to it and witnessing the grin he loves so much spreading across your face.

“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, even when you’re a little scraped up, don’t worry about that.”

Despite how difficult you have been to understand throughout various points in your decade long relationship with the man, he knows everything you’re saying is true or else you would not say it. You are too honest at times even if it’s sugarcoated to keep from hurting feelings but he knows you give him the most vulnerable form of yourself just as he does for you. 

He scrunches his nose and turns toward you, unbuckling so he can shift his body to face you. 

“Those sound like vows. Have you been practicing?”

Shrugging, you play his question off with a wry smile because he caught you. You still feel teary but blinking keeps any from coming and you idly play with his fingers and allow yourself to indulge in romance despite the heaviness still lingering between the two of you.

“Not necessarily practicing, just trying to figure out how to put how I feel about you into words because I don’t think the words I need exist.”

An arched brow is his response and you roll your eyes, tilting your chin toward the ground to hide your smile. He doesn’t want to coax anything additional out of you but the relief he feels knowing you still want to marry him despite everything that has happened is almost as comforting as the first breath he took waking back up after being healed enough to keep going by Shoko and Yuuta. 

He would be doing you both a disservice if he let you off the hook completely, though.

“So you still want to marry me?”

You scoff, lifting your head to look at him with a raised brow that mirrors the one he just gave you.

“Please. I’d marry you right now if you wanted.”

“Then do it.”

Opening your mouth to speak, you stop when the words won’t come, and he fills in the blanks for you.

“Let’s get married right now.”

“Satoru, we are in a car pulled off to the side of the road on one of the most famous highways in America.”

“So?”

At least his mood seems to have improved, the mischievous glimmer back in his eyes as he looks at where your hand and his take turns smoothing over each other. The two of you are always so sync even if you don’t realize it, seeking one another out like air, and you inhale sharply to keep from getting emotional once again.

“Okay. How do you wanna do it?”

He grins, shrugging.

“I guess we just say it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shoot at him despite the smile on your face and he leans across the center console to kiss you. It amazes you just how many different types of kisses this man can give you in the span of a few minutes, going from silly to sweet to sincere to sexy, but you’re grateful to be on the receiving end of each one. Your lips mold to his perfectly, no longer split and cracked the way they were a few days ago, and he pulls back from you with raised brows and meets your eyes.

“And you’re my wife.”

For as unceremonious as the event of apparently becoming his wife has been, you feel a rush of heat to your face when he says the word in reference to you and the way his gemstone eyes are gazing into yours tells you that he means it. You are his wife and as far as you’re concerned, just saying it is enough, you can worry about the rest later.

“Does that make you my husband?”

Smiling, he tips his head and leans forward to press his forehead against yours.

“I sure hope so.”

And so it begins, the rest of your trip as makeshift newlyweds, your heart pounding at the realization that this means forever. This is the commitment to one another you’ve both been anticipating and scared to make, you spent years running from him because you knew this was the only outcome, but with noses touching and two sets of eyes blinking at one another it has never been more apparent that you two were meant for this, for each other.

DAY 6 - MALIBU, CA - POINT DUME LOOKOUT

The final day of the trip has passed by at lightning speed, your flight leaving from LAX first thing in the morning. It feels correct that you’re spending your last few hours on some of the most beautiful soil on earth watching the sunset over the horizon in Malibu despite the cool air of the January day. The ocean glimmers and you can’t help but gasp in awe at what you see, feeling like a proverbial goddess staring at the open land below you.

“This is beautiful,” you mutter and Gojo joins your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He has a blanket and spare jacket tucked under the other, something to keep you both warm after the sun fully sets and the air grows colder.

“Almost as pretty as you.”

Rolling your eyes, you swat at his chest and suddenly every piece falls back into place. The past five days have been exactly what he needed to find himself, to return to who he is and who he wants to be, and it thrills him to think for even a moment that he may someday feel completely normal again. It won’t undo the things that have happened but it will help him make sense of them.

“Ouch,” he mutters playfully and you laugh, pulling the blanket out of the crook of his elbow and placing it on the ground below with a flourish and a shake of your hands. You instantly sink to the ground below, crossing your legs and sitting back with your hands bracing you. Satoru follows suit with an easy smile, sunglasses covering his eyes despite his facial injuries now being mostly gone. 

Sighing, you tip your head upward and let the sunlight warm it. 

Things are going to be okay, you tell yourself with an earnestness you couldn’t muster a week ago. This is exactly what you needed.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, contentedly watching seabirds drift by in the distance, but you sit up and turn to face Gojo, smiling wistfully watching the sunset on his features.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about lately?”

He hums at your question, nodding emphatically.

“Of course.”

Turning your face back toward the sunset, you recall a moment you have been thinking about since the moment it happened, the night he called you his soulmate. It was in the thick of an emotional evening after a long day, the two of you indulging in some pillow talk before falling asleep. It was so easy for him to say, as if he never assumed anything else could be true. 

“Years ago you told me you’ve always known it was going to be us and I brushed it off as you running your mouth,” Satoru fakes offense at your words but you smile wistfully, shaking your head and looking down toward your crossed thighs, the sun suddenly becoming too bright to keep gazing at. “But it’s not a coincidence it has ended up being us two, is it?”

You feel guilty for leaving out Shoko and Utahime and the other friends and students you have met along the way but he knows better than anyone what you mean. He smiles back and captures your hand in his, your palms pressed together while watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean, cold winter waves lapping at the jagged rocks below the cliff you sit on. 

“Add clairvoyance to my list of skills because I called it, didn’t I?” Humor mixed with unwavering honesty, one of the things you love the most about Satoru, peeks through his every word and you feel so full of love it’s hard to do anything but finally stare at him, eyes squinting thanks to the last bright remnants of daylight. “Even back when you thought I was nothing but a pest with freakishly long arms I knew it had to be you.”

Giggling, you think back to those days that were a practical lifetime ago. Time seemed like it was endless, stretching on and on forever in sundrenched days lounging in the courtyard grass at school, and you assumed you had endless amounts of it. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, it’s all the same when you know you have theoretically at least six more decades to live. 

You were reckless with your feelings and even more so with those of others back then, the man next to you a frequent recipient of annoyed eye rolls and scoffs. He knows he deserved them all even if he gives you a hard time about them now, his boyish determination to impress you gradually buffing away your edges until none remained. 

To the uninitiated, it may appear he tamed you, buffed and smoothed you into perfection equal to his own, but anyone who matters knows better. Satoru remade you, as being loved unconditionally does to anyone. He loved you when you were scowling and spitting and swiping, refusing his friendship and certainly his affections, and he loves you now with your palm pressed against his while you gently breathe in brisk ocean air wrapped in his coat.

“Thank you for never giving up on me.”

He pulls you closer, chin resting on top of your head as it always does. No response comes and you don’t need one, content to listen to the soft puffs of air leaving his nostrils that ruffle the top of your hair. Weeks ago, you weren’t certain you’d ever hear them again. Now though, the mix of the roaring waves and his breaths and his heartbeat pounding against your back catch you off guard and you start to cry, a tear trailing down your nose. 

“Don’t do that. No crying.”

Despite the tears, you laugh. It’s impossible to do anything but when he looks down at you with his head cocked, a little mocking pout on his lips. Leaning up, you kiss him gently and he hums into it, thumb reaching to swipe the stray tear off of your cheek. Leaning back from him, you sniffle.

“Just a little? You know how I am.”

He shakes his head. How can he ever deny you anything? You’re his life, his reason, his world. His one.

“Okay, a tear or two for my little crybaby but that’s it.”

Whatever tears were welling up dissipate quickly when you start laughing and it wows you how it seems like everything is truly back to normal. The two of you glancing at one another like lovesick teenagers, the same as you did ten years ago, the same as you will for the rest of your lives.

“You were right, you know. We are soulmates.” 

He grins.

“That’s not something I hear from you often but I’ll take it.”

DAY 7 - TOKYO, JP

The 9 hours back home felt far longer than the ones passing on the way there but after a blissful week and an easy flight, you are home and you are clean and you are comfortable in your own bed.

Spread across the mattress in nothing but a towel, you listen to Satoru hum from the adjoining bathroom while he brushes his teeth, running water mingling with a song that kept playing on the radio during your trip that has been stuck in his head for four days. Giggling, you wonder if he knows you can hear him or if he’s truly in his own little world.

“Turn the water off, it’s wasteful!”

You playfully shout into the bathroom and you hear the water cease but the humming continues. He’s well aware that you’re listening and it’s glorious to see even more of him come home - his happiness returning and stabilizing over the last few days. You worried at the beginning of your trip things would never be the same and they won’t, of course, the losses you’ve both suffered more than any one person should have to, but they will feel good again and already do.

Speaking of feeling good, your husband (who is very insistent that you call him this despite no legal documentation of your marriage existing) saunters into the room with a towel low slung on his hips and you can’t help but let your eyes roam over every part of him. His arms are no longer bruised and scuffed, back to their defined and pristine glory. The face you know every contour of is back to normal as well, nary a trace of anything happening in the first place, but curiously - he isn’t devoting any energy to heal the scars across his torso. Small silvery slashes and the big one where Sukuna split him into two remain visible.

Your mouth waters watching him dry the ends of his hair with a towel and it’s no longer satisfying to merely look, you need to feel; to touch every piece of him to ensure he’s still here despite having done it many times over the last several days. Every touch will be like this for the rest of your life, you think, making sure he’s whole and real and yours.

“Come here,” you nod and tilt your head, flipping from your back onto your stomach and swinging your legs in the air behind you. Gojo hums, raising his eyebrows and sliding onto the bed next to you, leaning onto his side and propping his head up with a hand.

“What can I do for you?”

You giggle almost girlishly, fluttering your lashes for no particular reason other than to let him know that he still has the ability to fluster you a decade together later. Tentatively, you reach toward him and trace your finger over the scar through the middle of his torso, the flesh smooth and pearlescent.

“Keeping that one?”

He shrugs, looking down to see your single finger become an entire palm pressed against his abdomen, your fingers tracing small paths across his abs and chest. The muscles beneath your hand tense with each touch and you pull yourself to your knees, crawling across the bed to kneel beside him.

“Maybe I’ll get rid of it eventually. I have the choice, you know?”

That he does and you nod, understanding. Your hand continues to travel over his chest, smoothing over each of his pecs and your core flutters excitedly when your hand travels from his upper torso to the lower portion, fingers sliding beneath the knot of his towel. 

He looks over your body, the way that your tits are pressed together and spilling over the towel secured over them, eyes trailing from your cleavage to your shoulder where a jagged and angry scar of your own sits. It’s from an attempt to dismember you in Shibuya, to cleave your arm straight from your shoulder, yet you don’t let the fact that it’s there bother you a bit. 

Satoru’s cock starts to harden under his towel merely looking at you and you smile watching it come to life beneath the cotton covering it, pushing him backward and flat onto his back so that you can straddle him. Discarding your towel, you drop it on the floor next to the bed and lean over him, chests pressed together while your knees rest on either side of his hips. 

“Hello there,” he teases and you laugh, leaning down to kiss him and bracing your forearms on either side of his head. There is no time wasted on gentle kisses, opting instead for the type that sear as you pant into his mouth and feel his bulge pressed against your bare cunt. You grind against him, the friction from the towel over his cock making you whimper, and one of his hands finds your hip to hold you steady while you make yourself feel good. 

“You like that, baby?”

Humming affirmatively to his question, you drag yourself across his covered length for only a moment more and choose instead to sit up, giving him a full view of all of you. This is a sight he has been blessed with more times than he could begin to count but every time it feels like a gift, your breasts swaying as you steady yourself. His hand slides from your hip to your waist and even higher, thumb and index finger pinching your nipple and making you tilt your head back and moan.

“To think I almost never saw this again,” he mutters to himself but you hear it, leaning forward enough that your face hovers above his. You kiss the side of his jaw and he groans, cock so hard the towel has shortened by several inches while it fights to sit against his stomach as gravity intends for it to.

Kissing further down his jaw and his neck, you rest your face in the crook of his neck for a moment and sigh dreamily. You're already soaked, ready to slip him inside of you at any moment.

“To think I never saw this again,” you repeat back to him and sit up, reaching behind you to unknot his towel and push it off of his hips, looking over your shoulder and groaning at his pretty pink tip resting against his belly, glossy with precum. You look down at him with a slight pout, leaning in to kiss him while running your hands over every inch of his body that you can.

“Look at you, Satoru. You’re so beautiful.”

He’s no stranger to your compliments but he flusters a bit anyway, chest turning pink as his face heats up. His white lashes flutter as he looks down at you, your mouth pressing kisses into his neck and warm chest. You scrape your teeth over his nipples and it makes him whine, bucking his hips and pressing his heavy cock against your pussy.

"Fuck baby," he mutters, hissing when you press your hips down against him, the wetness seeping from you coating your lips and his shaft in return, your hips gliding easily over him. Your mouth remains occupied, pressing kisses lower down his abdomen and over the scars he hasn't yet healed. It's your responsibility to remind him that every single piece of him is as lovable and stunning as ever and you take it seriously.

"I need you."

The rasp in his words makes you smile and you nod, ceasing your kissing and straightening your spine so that you can press your tits against his chest again. There is zero space between your bodies, just how you prefer it. He reaches for his cock and groans, wrapping his fingers around the base, abandoning it to brush his fingers over your wet cunt.

"All that for me," he marvels, two digits sinking into you with ease and you arch your back slightly, letting him spread you open while grinding your hips down against his pelvis, the direct contact of his body on your clit sending sparks through you.

"Just for you, handsome," you smirk against his neck and he crooks his fingers inside of you, brushing the spot he knows drives you wild. You moan and he pulls his fingers out of you, your cunt clenching in protest only for him to immediately replace them with the girth of his cock, your walls stretching to accommodate him.

"Feels so good," you whisper and he hums, hands coming to your hips to keep them steady while he thrusts upward into you slowly, sinking himself to the base methodically, shallow thrusts pulling him nearly out of you.

He's greedy though, undeniably addicted to the way you make him feel, and keeps enough of himself inside of you that you are unable to even begin to miss the way he feels. Your walls clench around him, keeping him secured inside and your hips grind lazily despite his grip on them.

The pleasure is mind numbing but you keep yourself alert, moaning softly while he throbs inside of you. More lazy thrusts met with slow and passionate grinding make you moan on unison, lips finding each other. Moaning into each others mouths, occasionally brushing tongues and kissing, you're overwhelmed with nothing but pure love knowing you have this to look forward to forever.

Forever sounds like a long time but you can't think of any better way to spend it than with your Satoru.

"You gonna cum baby?"

He asks and you nod, your walls gripping him tightly. His thrusts speed up, the sound of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The mind is a powerful tool and despite this being quite possibly the least active sex the two of you have ever had, you're so in love with him your body does what it does naturally and that's cum around his cock, clenching and pulsing to let him know how much all of you loves all of him.

"I love you," you babble against his mouth and he chuckles. "I know baby, I know."

Your hips still and you let him hold you in place, his back arched as he thrusts fully in and out of you, his own release slowly coming over him. His eyes flutter shut and he stays buried inside of you, ropes of his cum filling you and seeping out around the base of him, dripping down onto the towel below him.

You don't say a word, sinking into his chest while he softens inside of you. Talking feels unnecessary when your body itself says so much but the big mouth is back to normal so the blissful silence doesn't last for long.

"I love you too, by the way."

At least he's being sweet.

Giggling, you kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, clinging to him while he moves from your mouth to press kisses into your hairline.

"So," he starts and you look up, hovering off of his chest enough to look him in his eyes. "When are we telling everyone that we're married?"

"Let's make it legal first, yeah?"

He pouts but it is replaced quickly with a wry smile and you sink back down to rest against him, cheek pressed into his collarbone. The news surely won't come as a surprise to anyone but you want to make sure it's set in stone before letting everyone know.

"Let's go first thing in the morning."

His eagerness makes you laugh but you acquiesce, knowing there's no excuse to wait. You spent enough time fighting off the inevitable that for once, you're glad to just sit back and enjoy the ride, especially when you're enjoying it by Satoru's side.

[ame-perduexx]

Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'm your mother now, chapter 1

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: when you wake up in a strange room, you soon come to realize the amazing Black Widow, who appears to be the perfect role model for girls all around the world, is greatly deranged…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha

genre: angst

words: 2972

a/n: I really wanted to write a dark Natasha fic but I didn't want to make it romantic or anything, so I went with the idea of Natasha kidnapping a child. Please don't read this if you are not comfortable with dark themes. Reader is kinda abused but that's because of Natasha's trauma.

Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think :)

(I decided to make this a series, as I have so many ideas but find them simply too long for one fic. I will probably make a separate masterlist for the series) 

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

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You dropped your bag on the floor, kicking your shoes off and walking through the house, allowing yourself to fall on the couch in exhaustion. You were in highschool, and no matter what teacher you'd ask, they all called you their best student.

You passed every test, got good grades for every project, but mentally you were slipping. You hated your life. You hated the stupid loop you were trapped in. Every day is the same. You were tired. 

Your foster parents were scheduled to come home after dinner, so you knew you'd be able to lie on the couch for a while without being yelled at.

So that's what you did. 

You took a nap on the couch, enjoying the quietness of the house, when a noise upstairs catches you off guard. 

You get up slowly, carefully walking up the stairs. You had seen horror movies, and you knew what a bad idea it was, yet you decided to do it anyway. You creeped up the stairs, through the hallway and made it to your bedroom. It was small and there weren't many places to hide, but you were cautious anyway. 

Your window was open. The curtain was moving slightly due to the breeze outside. A shiver ran down your back. You had that feeling again. The same feeling you've had for the past few weeks. The feeling of being watched. 

You walked to your window carefully, pushing it close and locking it. Didn't you lock it yesterday?

Before you could even turn around, an arm clasped around your waist and a hand holding a cloth covered your mouth and nose. You tried to scream and try to get out of the person's grip, but it was of little use. The person holding you was strong. Way stronger than you were. 

You flung around in their grasp, trying to hit the arms that were holding you, but it was of no use. You heard a woman's voice behind you, shushing you and telling you it's all gonna be okay. Your eyes started drooping, falling close. The last thing you heard was a simple sentence….

“Shh baby, mama's got you…” 

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

Natasha had been observing you for weeks. She saw you in the park one day, sitting on a bench. You appeared to be okay, but she could see the way you were holding back tears. It took everything in her not to walk up to you and comfort you. 

After that day, she decided to watch you more often. She watched you when you picked out your clothes. She watched you when you went to school. She watched you when you came home and got yelled at. She watched all of it. 

After watching you for about a week, she decided to do some more research. She had to know everything about you. You were absolutely perfect.

She found out about your parents, how they left you in front of the police station one night. They didn't want you, and Natasha's heart broke. The foster families you were placed with didn't care much for you either. You were often heavily neglected, and you never knew real love. 

From what Natasha had seen, you were barely capable of taking care of yourself. She wondered how often you showered, how often you ate and if you even brushed your teeth. 

No one seemed to have taught you how to live, and it broke Natasha's heart. She was determined to make you feel loved. She knew it was fate. She had to take care of you. It was simply meant to be. 

Natasha had been trying to have a child for so long. After her past in the Red Room, she knew she'd never be able to conceive herself, but she had tried everything there was. She had gone to adoption agencies and tried to adopt. She had applied to become a foster mom but nothing worked. She'd pass most criteria, but when the psychological tests came her test scores dropped. The authorities simply deemed her to mentally unstable to take care of a child.

Natasha was mad. Mad at the authorities and mad at herself. She just wanted a child. That's all she's ever wanted. How on earth did anyone dare deny her that.

After she was denied for foster care, she was upset, but she didn't dare give up. Natasha was determined that she would find someone for her to take care of, and she did. Anyone in their right mind could see it. You were destined to be with Natasha. 

After observing you for quite a while, Natasha decided it was time. You were crying almost every night, the stress of school and your grades were simply too much. Natasha couldn't bear to see you like this any longer, so she finally decided to make her move. She snuck in when you were at school. She didn't even have to sneak in through the window. The doors had an easy lock, and she could easily pick it open. 

When she made her way inside, she immediately went up to your room. She looked through it, smelling your clothes, touching your bed and everything you owned, which wasn't a lot. 

She clutched your only stuffed animal tightly to her chest, a tear rolling down her cheek. She was finally going to be a mom, and she couldn't wait. 

She collected some of your stuff, but only the stuff she couldn't replace, which included some notebooks, coloring books and your stuffed animal of course. She stuffed it in a bag and put all of it in her car. After she finished, she made her way back inside and waited. 

When she heard you come home, she was nearly jumping at the anticipation and excitement. 

She started making some noises, hoping you'd come upstairs soon. She had opened the window in your room, knowing you'd walk over to close it. You did that every day. If you forgot to close the window, you'd close it after coming home from school. 

Soon enough, she heard you walking upstairs, peeking through the door of the bathroom. She waited until you went into your bedroom, indeed closing the window as she expected.

The moment you weren't looking, she snuck into your room and quickly covered your face, making you inhale the Chloroform she'd put on the cloth. You were flailing around heavily, trying to get loose from her grasp, but she just held on tight. 

Natasha tried to comfort you, shushing you as you slowly lost consciousness. 

After you had passed out, she carefully lifted you up, walking down the stairs and, after grabbing your school bag, walking back to her car. She was careful as she placed you on the backseat, protecting your head as you slept peacefully. 

She placed your stuffed animal in your arms, smiling at the sight of you fast asleep. She got into the driver's seat and took off, driving you two far away from the big city.

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

You groaned as the light hit your eyes, covering them with your hand as you blinked a few times, trying to get used to it. You stretched your arms above your head, slowly waking up from your deep slumber. 

The bed you were laying on was soft, way softer and more comfortable than you were used to, but you didn't really notice. The drugs were still wearing off, your brain pleasantly fuzzy as you slowly regained control over all of your senses. 

When you yawned and brought your hand up to your face, you finally realized the clothes you were wearing were not yours. 

You sat up quickly, scanning the room and realizing it looked nothing like yours. It was way too big, but it did seem to be arranged to your style and interests. You took in the room, confused as to how you got there and why it seemed to be accommodated perfectly to your wants and needs. 

You slowly slid your legs off the bed, sitting on the edge and carefully standing up, afraid your weary state would make you fall over. The pajamas you were wearing were soft and seemed to be made out of an expensive silk. 

You slowly stood up, walking around the room slightly. You thought you were dreaming. When you looked out the window, there was nothing but trees. You appeared to be in some clearing in the woods. You checked out the room, noticing how the books on the shelf looked an awful lot like the books you owned, except the books in this room seemed to be new and neat. 

It confused you, and when you turned around, you noticed the bedding was the same bedding as you'd always had, just for a queen sized bed. 

There were three doors in the room, and you ran to the closest one. When you opened it you found a closet, probably as big as your room back home. When you opened the next, you found a bathroom. It looked almost impossibly clean and the shower looked like it came straight from a millionaire's home.

When you opened the third door, you finally stood in a hallway. When you looked right, you saw another door, which was probably where the hallway ended, so you decided to go left. You walked fast, wanting to get out of the house as fast as possible. 

You were very confused by the whole situation. You remembered someone kidnapping you, but these were not the circumstances you expected to wake up in.

When you stormed down the stairs, you could see a kitchen on your right. You spotted a door right in front of you. It looked like the front door, so you immediately ran towards it, trying to open it. It didn't budge. You'd need a code, a finger scan and voice recognition. You sighed as you leaned your forehead against it. 

After standing there for a solid 5 minutes, you decided to explore the rest of the house. 

You reckoned you were alone, as no one had approached you yet, even when you tried to leave the house. You slowly walked into the kitchen, from it spotting a living area with a few couches, and on top of it, you saw a redhead. 

You froze when you saw her, unable to move or talk as fear overtook your body. 

“Ah, good. I was wondering when you'd wake up. I was thinking of ordering take-out. Just come over here and we can pick something,” the woman spoke as if she'd known you for years.

You didn't move, so the woman turned around, putting her book aside and getting up. She walked towards you slowly, but she didn't seem worried she'd scare you away. “You don't want take-out?” she questioned, putting her phone on the kitchen island. You stood next to it as she now stood in front of it, crossing her arms. 

“Where am I?” you shakily asked, worried you'd upset her. You knew the woman, of course. Every person in the world knew her. She was Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow and fearless Avengers, although she retired a few years back. 

“What do you mean, silly? You're home of course,” Natasha spoke, looking confused as to why'd you even ask such a question. 

You frowned. “This isn't my home?...” Natasha shook her head. “Of course it is.” “Why did you kidnap me?” Natasha shook her head at your question. “I just brought you home, sweetie.”

“What the fuck?! Take me home!” you yelled, and she looked a little surprised before her expression went back to normal.

“I know it's your first day here, but you do not speak to me like that. Do you understand?” she responded, but it only made you madder. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Let me go, you crazy bitch!” you yelled as you tried to push her, but Natasha easily caught your wrists. 

“Careful honey. I know you're confused but that is no way to speak to your mother.” “You're not my fucking mother-”

Slap.

Natasha had slapped you across the face. Your head turned from the impact, your cheek almost immediately reddening. tears stung in your eyes as you moved your hand up to cup your cheek, a silent sob wrecking through your body.

“I am a very lenient person, but don't you ever dare speak to me in such a tone again,” she said. “Now go sit on the couch and think about what you want to order for take-out dammit.” 

You moved slowly, keeping your head down as you sat on one of the couches, silently crying over the situation. After a few minutes, Natasha returned from the kitchen, holding an ice-pack. She grabbed your chin and tilted your face up without a word, pressing the ice-pack against your red cheek. She softly smiled down at you, using her free hand to pet the hair out of your face. 

You sniffled, and she leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. “Mama didn't want to hurt you like that sweetheart, but you took it too far,” she said, pulling back and smiling down at you again. “Mama loves you. I promise.” She pulled the ice-pack away and softly kissed your cheek.

She put the ice-pack on the coffee table and sat on the couch to your right. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket and seemed to scroll through something.

“So what are you feeling like?” she asked, looking at you with a smile. You sniffled quietly, looking down to avoid her gaze. “We could do burgers, or maybe sushi? I know those are your favorites,” she told you, and you instantly wondered how she'd know such a thing. 

“Come on. Tell me what you want,” she urged, nodding slightly to encourage you. 

“Fries…” you said quietly, and Natasha smiled. “Exactly what I was feeling. Would you like chicken nuggets on the side?” she asked you, and you nodded. “Perfect,” she said as she typed it into her phone, paying quickly and tossing it aside.

“The food will be here soon. Would you like to watch a movie while we wait, or would you rather explore the house a bit more?” she asked, patiently waiting for your answer.

You shrugged, not wanting to pick an option that might make her mad. “We can also just sit here for a while. I know you must be confused, but I promise you everything will fall right into place.”

You were mad. Mad at how Natasha acted like everything was fine. Mad at how she acted like she had any authority over you. Mad at how she'd slapped you. Mad at how she was acting like she was your mother. Mad at how she seemed unbothered and acted like your behavior was insane. But mostly, you were mad at yourself. Mad how you looked up to her. Looked up to the amazing Black Widow. She had always been your favorite Avengers. How could she not be?

After sitting on the couch for a few minutes, you looked up slowly, seeing Natasha staring at you with a smile on her face. 

“Would you like to watch something now?” She asked, holding up the remote. When the hell did she grab that? You nodded slightly, and Natasha smiled widely at you for it. She pressed a few buttons on the remote, and soon the tv lit up with your favorite show ready to play. Natasha pressed play, and the show started exactly where you stopped last night.

You sat quietly as you watched the show, scared to make any noises. 

After about an hour, there was a knock on the door, and Natasha got up to open it. “Just wait here,” she said as she walked away. You got up from the couch and peeked around the wall, seeing the door and catching a glimpse of a blonde woman. 

She didn't look like a delivery person, and you realized Natasha must've called someone she knew to make sure no one knew the location of the house.

The woman handed Natasha the take-out bag and they spoke for a moment, before she moved to give Natasha a hug. They hugged for a second and Natasha kissed the woman's cheek. You watched as they said their goodbye's, hearing Natasha say she'll visit the blonde woman soon. 

You quickly made your way back to the couches, sitting back down and waiting for Natasha to come back.

Once she did, she set the take-out on the kitchen counter. You watched silently as she moved around the kitchen, grabbing two plates and opening the bag. “Just so you know, I see and hear everything. Don't sneak up on me again. You're old enough to ask when you want something,” Natasha spoke, not looking up from her task of plating the food.

Your breath caught in your throat. You should've known. She used to be an assassin for goodness sake. Of course she could tell if you'd watch her. 

Natasha grabbed the two plates and brought them back to the couches. She handed one to you, but when you went to grab it she didn't let it go. You looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow to you. “Thank you…” you said silently, and she smiled as she let you take the plate, moving to sit down herself. 

You ate in silence, not missing the glances Natasha shot your way. You found it creepy. You had no idea why you were here and what Natasha wanted with you. She had referred to herself as your mother a few times now, and it confused you beyond words. 

For now, you decided to let the confusion go, focusing on eating your food and surviving the night. 

Who knows what tomorrow would bring…

chapter 2

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiyya! I had a request of g!p Donna x reader but it’s their first time and it’s very gentle and sweet , I’m a sucker for fluff and smut 🥹 or Donna being very soft and needy, I dig I dig

Yess!!! Here it is!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes!! :)))

Spend the night

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, explicit smut, fluff, insecurities... Minors DNI

Word count: 5,534

Summary: You've decided that you don't want to be just a guest anymore...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Donna requests are open!! I love you all :)))) Thanks for reading!!

“And then I told him: If you don't like the portrait, paint it yourself. Surely that nose of yours serves as a brush,” you said, amused.

Donna laughed sheepishly, as usual, shaking her head.

“Is this how you deal with your clients?” She asked with a low voice, always subtle, but with a smile adorning her face.

“Well, yes. At least with those who don't want to pay me,” you stated, playing with the fork.

“You didn't deal with me like that when I went to your study,” the lady in black sighed, taking a sip from her wine glass.

You sighed in amusement, raising your eyebrows.

Your job as a portrait painter didn’t prosper very well in that dark village, but at least it made you earn some money. Thanks to that peculiar job, you met Donna Beneviento. One of the village lords at the service of Mother Miranda herself. Donna was a shy woman, who hid her face behind a black cloth. Apparently, she had run out of the paint she used to decorate those strange porcelain dolls she made.

Donna returned days later, using that same excuse. You knew that it was nothing but an excuse since the Duke confirmed to you that he continued bringing her all those materials. Something had caught her attention about you, and of course, you couldn't help her from catching your attention too.

Donna was a complicated woman, with problems that had no solution. But at the same time, she was kind, shy and very far from what the villagers thought of her. At least she wasn’t that way with you.

The relationship grew naturally. You didn't know exactly why. She didn't usually talk directly to you. The Angie doll always was the speaker of your conversations.

Little by little, that absurd shyness faded until, after she revealed her face to you and you could contemplate her true beauty, you began to have a much more special relationship. The shy kisses and date nights didn't take long to come.

The lady never said that she was your girlfriend or anything like that, but you liked to think that way. As the months passed, you realized that you really were, and you wanted to be her girlfriend.

“Oh, Donna... This is...” you said licking your lips, enjoying, like every time you had dinner together, her amazing talent for cooking. “It's so good that I want to die.”

“Don't talk nonsense, (Y/N)” the lady in black said, with a slightly more serious look.

It's true that you had to be very careful with the things you said. Her mind was damaged, in part due to traumas from her past. Many times you forgot that there were topics that could cause small crises and could cause Donna to lose control. Death was one of those topics.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry,” you said apologetically, lowering your head. “I didn't mean it literally, you know, it's a way of speaking. What I want to say is that I love the way you cook.”

“I... Thank you,” she responded, blushing at the compliment. How could a dangerous woman in Miranda's service blush over something like that? She would never cease to amaze you.

“Scare!” A squeaky voice screeched too close to you, scaring you, making you spill some wine on your new dress, a dress you had bought especially for that romantic dinner.

“Shit! Angie!” You yelled trying to remove the stain from the white fabric.

The doll fled the place laughing childishly, taking refuge behind the living room desk.

“Angie... Please...” Donna whispered, standing up embarrassed, approaching you.

You got up too, ready to revenge, pretending to strangle Angie with your bare hands.

“Come here! Show your face! You little…” You said with anger, but also with a smile. You were more than used to the doll ruining all your dates.

“(Y/N)” Donna interrupted you, placing a soft hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I'll pay for the dress.”

“What? Oh, come on, no. Don’t worry about it,” you said, brushing it off, gently grabbing her hand on your shoulder, turning to look at her.

Her face relaxed immediately as you got closer to her, taking that opportunity to kiss her softly on the lips, to steal one of those kisses that made you thank fate for having met her.

Unlike the other times you kissed, this time you were much more reluctant to pull away, discovering a part of yourself that you thought would never appear: desire.

Donna withdrew shortly after, smiling tenderly and running a hand over your cheek, with a softness so burning that you thought at any moment the flames would burn your skin.

“Gross!” The doll protested, approaching you timidly. You rolled your eyes and glared at her, causing the puppet to change her path so as not to walk near to you.

“Angie, please. Behave,” Donna demanded, with a tone that betrayed shame and apology, while her hands joined yours and lowered, hanging harmoniously between your bodies.

“Don’t worry, Donna,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Also, I think this color suits the dress well.”

She laughed, kissing you quickly on the cheek and letting your hands go, heading to the table.

“I promise I'll turn her off next time,” she commented as she picked up the dishes. “I'm going... I'm going to pick this up.”

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked politely.

The lady in black shook her head, giving you another of her amazing smiles.

“No, tesoro. You are my guest,” she said affectionately, walking towards the elevator.

“Guest... Great...” You whispered, looking at the wooden floor, unable to help but feel a certain disappointment. It had been a long time. You didn't want to be a guest anymore.

“Silly, silly (Y/N). You're so clumsy, you've put the vine all over your dress,” Angie hummed when you were alone, which made you clench your fists tightly, approaching the puppet in a threatening manner.

“Yes, yes... Laugh while you can, you little devil. Have you heard Donna? Next time she will deactivate you,” you said in her dark voice, causing another of Angie’s loud, mocking laughs.

“You don't scare me,” the doll mocked her.

“Yet...” you said, putting on the most dangerous look you were capable of.

“Stupid, stupid guest,” Angie repeated, dancing happily around you. “Do you want some advice?”

“No,” you said seriously, with a firm tone, looking towards the elevator, waiting for Donna to come back.

“If you want Donna to move, you have to do it yourself. She never will,” the doll said, with a tone that resembled of a confidant friend.

“What? What are you talking about?” You asked, interested in that statement.

“It's just a comment,” she said indifferently, walking away from you when the noise of the elevator doors broke the tension of the moment.

“Do you want me to accompany you home, my love?” Donna asked, approaching you again, holding your hand lovingly.

“To home?”

You could fool yourself and think that leaving was a good idea, but that tender kiss earlier made you think about the things that still needed to be done, about the desire to really love her, even if it embarrassed you.

Donna nodded with a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, sending a strange shiver through your body.

“Um, well, I... I, I'd like to stay a bit longer if you don't mind. It looks like it's going to rain,” you said shyly.

Donna frowned and tilted her head curiously, looking towards one of the windows and approaching it.

“Rain? I don't think so, honey, it's a splendid night,” she commented, studying the starry sky.

You clenched your fists, not being able to send a hint clear enough for Donna to get it. You knew it was going to be complicated, but you didn't expect it to be so complicated. Maybe it would be a good idea to go home... But on the other hand, you didn't want to do it.

“Now it seems that way and when you least expect it, boom! The storm of the century hits and I end up soaked from head to toe. And it's very likely that I would catch a cold, my body is weak,” you said in a nervous tone, your voice breaking because of the shame you felt for insisting so pathetically.

The lady in black looked at you curiously, as if something inside her mind was screaming for her to react. Donna was still too shy, and too naive. She wasn't used to the pathetic advances of ordinary people.

“You'll agree with me when I have a horrible fever and can't come here to see you,” you said, feigning real concern.

“Oh, okay, I...” Donna said, approaching you again, searching for something in your eyes that she didn't seem to understand. “Wait a moment. I'm going to call the Duke to take you home then.”

“Oh, God,” you sighed when she walked away again, feeling an unbearable helplessness.

“Donna!” Angie screamed, hanging up the phone when the woman picked it up. “Are you blind?”

“What? Angie, stop that,” the lady in black protested. “You're starting to wear out my patience tonight.”

“And you are starting to wear out hers,” the doll responded, crossing her arms after pointing at you.

You opened your eyes and an evil smile spread across your face.

“What? Why you say so?” The doll maker asked, looking at you with fear.

“Silly Donna, silly Donna. (Y/N) wants to spend the night with you. Silly.”

The woman stepped away from the phone, timidly playing with her hands.

“(Y/N)... Is that true? Would you... Would you like...?”

“Um, yes, I would like to,” you said, taking advantage of the unique opportunity that Angie gave you.

“Oh, okay... Okay... Well...” she said, looking away, getting closer little by little, looking for a place to look that wasn't your eyes. “I, I guess that's... Fine.”

“If it's uncomfortable for you, I'll leave,” you said, unsure of her reaction.

“No, no, wait, wait,” Donna interrupted, grabbing your hand as you made a gesture to leave. “I… Well, I would like you to stay.”

“Really?” You asked, not bothering to hide the joy her words provoked, cupping her face in your hands.

She nodded before your lips brushed against hers again, sealing an important deal.

“Okay...” the lady sighed, moving away from your increasingly hot kisses.

“Can you show me your bedroom?” You asked, perhaps with a too seductive tone. You knew that you couldn't be direct with her. You didn't want to be either.

“Oh, of course... I... Well if you're going to sleep with me you'll have to go down and... Of course, of course. You want to know where it is and it makes sense and...” Donna stammered, nervous as you had never seen her before, apart from her involuntary crisis, of course.

You decided to silence her as you knew best, with another of your tender, deep kisses, grabbing her waist and bringing her body closer to yours, demonstrating with your actions that everything was fine, that there was no reason to worry.

“Donna,” you said in a whisper, resting your forehead on hers. “Listen to me.”

She nodded softly, unable to hide the fear on her face.

“I just want to sleep with you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I have no ulterior motives. We won't do anything you don't want to.”

“Oh, well I... It's okay...” The lady in black murmured, sighing in relief.

After a quick kiss, you let yourself be guided to the unknown part underneath the house, a strange and claustrophobic basement. Through several corridors, you arrived at your destination.

“Wow... There are no windows here,” you said, looking at the curious bedroom. It was a dark place for a dark woman. Appropriate.

“I'm sorry. My parents built the house like this,” she apologized, sitting on the bed with trembling hands.

“I didn't mean that I think it's wrong, I'm just looking,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. You joined the woman, sitting next to her.

There was a moment of tense silence, as if neither of you really knew what exactly you were doing there. Donna cleared her throat, shifting nervously in her place.

“(Y/N)” she said with a low voice, almost inaudible.

“Mm?” You murmured, in the middle of your scan of the area.

“I... I want to do it,” she said, grabbing the sheets tightly, pulling them so hard that it seemed like they were going to tear.

“To do what? Oh,” you said, instantly embarrassed. You weren't really thinking about that, you just wanted to move further in the relationship. You couldn't deny that it crossed your mind, but you didn't think she wanted it as much as you. Did she?

“But... But I'm afraid,” she whispered timidly. “I… I… I’ve never…”

“Hey, Donna…” you said, grabbing her hand so she would stop ruining the sheets. “Calm down. I feel the same.”

“You? Have you ever...?”  She asked curiously, suddenly looking at you.

“Well, I really haven’t... You know what? It doesn’t matter,” you said, avoiding acknowledging a truth that embarrassed you. “What… What really matters is that I would like to share that moment with you, but I don't want to force you to do so.”

Donna smiled, shaking her head. You couldn't know what she was thinking, but you knew that she was terribly nervous.

“I just... I just know that... that I love you,” you said, being the first time you verbalized your feelings towards the woman in black. “And I want to live everything with you, I want to truly love you, share my entire life with you.”

“You... You... Do you love me?” She asked, with a wide smile on her face, with a look of genuine excitement.

“Yes,” you said dryly, accompanying her smile.

After a nervous gasp, she launched herself at your lips, kissing you messily, excited by that statement.

“I, I love you too,” Donna said, with a tear sliding down her cheek. The level her emotions reached was surprising. You wondered if she had ever had anyone who said those three words to her. The most logical response made you feel an overwhelming sadness.

“Donna...” you sighed when her caresses returned to your face, while you brushed that annoying tear away from hers, getting lost in her gaze.

Immediately and without warning, she moved away from you, as if something had scared her.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You asked, worried about that sudden action.

“There... There is something you don't know about me,” she told you, looking away, with her hands trembling in yours. “I... Well, since... You know... Miranda adopted me... I... Well, no, I haven't been the same... I...”

You interrupted her by putting a finger on her lips, understanding what she wanted to tell you.

“Shh, don't say anything else, honey. I already know it,” you said amused, moving her hands away so she wouldn't squeeze them too hard.

“What? Do you know about..?” She asked startled, breaking free from your hold. You nodded with a dangerous look.

“Do you remember our date at the river? The picnic?”

Donna nodded, blinking repeatedly.

“That day you were quite excited,” You joked, running a hand up her leg. “It seemed like my kisses made you very, very happy… I could feel it. Literally,” you whispered in her ear, making her nervousness increase.

“Oh, well... I'm sorry,” she said shyly, but with a mischievous smile discreetly appearing on her face.

“Don’t be. Everything's fine. I love you just the way you are, Donna… And I still want to take that step with you, if you agree, of course.”

The woman in black nodded just before your kisses caught her again. She responded by deepening hers as well, abandoning the play of her hands to travel directly to your cheek, caressing it gently, keeping your head next to hers, so that your kisses wouldn't dare to stop.

Silence became the main element in that room. There were no more insecurities nor stupid questions or statements, just your kisses traveling, tasting your lips.

You stood apart for a moment, staring at each other, as if trying to communicate without words. With an anxious sigh, you resumed your feat, kissing every spot on her face as you climbed on top of her, your legs on either side of her hips.

Her hands, normally shy and chaste, ran over your back, pushing you closer to her body, traveling down your hips, caressing you as if you were made of porcelain, as if the slightest touch would break you into a thousand pieces.

You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of being treated this way, like the delicate and precious object you were to her. Your hands rested on her chest, brushing the black fabric of her dress while your mouth continued down her neck, causing a shy gasp and an incipient tension in her body.

“I... I would like…” Donna said, silent, elegant, shy. “I want… I want to look at you. You know, without… Without clothes.”

You opened your eyes and smiled. You didn't know anyone who would be kind enough to ask such a thing, to ask permission even if she knew she didn't need to do it.

“Fine,” you said, giving her one last kiss while her gaze was lost on your body.

Caressing her chest as you stood up, you brought your free hand to the restraints of your wine-ruined dress. The night breeze was present in that closed place. There was no chance the cold air from outside had gotten in there, you figured it was due to nerves. You had never gotten naked in front of someone and although your shyness paled in comparison to Donna's, you couldn't help but feel insecure.

The fabric fell to the floor and you had to fight not to grab it at the last moment and cover yourself. Even though you were afraid to look at Donna, to know what expression her face had, you did. Her smile was delirious, as if she were in a dream. The tension once again led to a rough grip on the sheets, while she tried to say something at the sight of your half-naked body.

“(Y/N)... I have never seen anything as beautiful as you in my entire life,” she sighed, reaching out to grab your wrist and pull you gently, bringing your trembling body closer to her “Your body… Your beauty is so… You are a miracle,” she said before running her fingers over your chest, looking at you from below, not wanting to lose even the slightest detail of what she was seeing.

“You are going to make me blush...” you joked, reassured by the soft touch on your wrist, by the hand that ran up and down your body.

“I'm just saying what I think...” Donna whispered in a sensual way, releasing your wrist and grabbing your body with both hands, pulling it until her lips made contact with the lower part of your chest, planting shy kisses on your skin, raising and lowering her hands so not an inch of your body was left without being worshiped by her.

You gasped at the pleasure of her touch, following your impulse to get back on top of her, climbing up her body as she looked for a way to continue her actions.

The kisses returned to your lips, this time with an incipient need growing between you, with a desire that made you deepen them more and more, feeling like you could almost melt.

“Can I…?” She asked. You didn't understand what she meant until you came to your senses. Those deep kisses had made you forget where you were, or what indecent feats her hands were carrying out. You noticed them right at the closure of your bra, waiting for your response.

“Of course you can...” You whispered in her ear, making something like a moan leave her lips when with a click, the garment released what it contained.

With an elegance that only Donna could have, your bra was removed from your body. Her delicate fingers played with the surroundings of your breasts, not wanting to run, repressing the desire they had to caress them, to feel them...

With a moan, caused by her fingers grazing your nipple, you pushed Donna so her back rested on the bed, staying astride while her desire to caress your entire body grew stronger and stronger.

“Wait,” you said, pushing her chest down, keeping your back straight over her, feeling a pleasurable cramp when you noticed the contact of her arousal with your body. “I think this is unfair.”

“Unfair?” Donna asked, moving to make the friction less unbearable for her.

“Yes...” You whispered, not letting the contact be lost as you ran your hand over her breasts, covered by the black fabric of her dress, perhaps with less care than her, hiding your desire in a pathetic way. “Get naked, Donna. I also want to enjoy your beauty.”

“Well, I...” She said with a shy smile, breathing hard, not being able to take her eyes off your bare chest.

“Don't worry, I'm going to help you,” you said, laughing, going down to her neck to kiss it tenderly, making her hands tense when yours began to get rid of the buttons of her dress.

Her pale skin was revealed to you. She trembled, but she didn’t cease the action of kissing you, caressing you, squeezing a neglected nipple between her fingers, causing an involuntary moan from your lips, a moan that bounced off her bare chest as your lips touched it.

Donna leaned up, letting the sleeves of her dress disappear from her body. Her arms reached for your head, grabbing it carefully, bringing it back to hers and kissing you passionately as she turned you around, switching positions. She was now reigning over you.

“You're beautiful, Donna...” you said when her bra disappeared in the tangle of kisses and caresses that had settled on the bed.

“No, I'm not...” She said, sighing, swallowing as if your words had made her uncomfortable.

“Yes, you are. And if I hear you say something stupid like that again, I'll grab my clothes and leave,” you threatened, catching your breath and grabbing her chin so she couldn't look away.

She laughed, still unsure of the sincerity of your statements.

Your hands ran over her breasts, making her gasp embarrassingly with each touch, with each caress, causing an involuntary movement of her hips, which she repressed by lying on top of you and kissing you in an elegant, delicate way, not wanting to lose that gentleness that made you fall in love, that kind and tender way which she treated you with.

Donna sat up as her hands went further down your body, running along your legs, bringing them closer to her mouth to kiss them carefully, slowly, going higher and higher.

You, taking advantage of her concentration, brought your hands to the edge of her dress, lowering it slowly, moving it away from her body forever.

When you saw for yourself what level of arousal you had caused her, you bit your lip, unable to look away.

“What are you looking at, tesoro?” She asked, amused, continuing her path of kisses along your legs.

“Oh, nothing...” you said amused. “Is it so hard… Just for me?”

“What do you think?” She responded, moving so you couldn't have a clear view of her erection. You knew she was embarrassed, even if it didn't seem like it.

“You’re flattering me,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss her quickly. You couldn't do it the way you wanted, because her hand pushed you, making you lie down on the bed.

“Let me flatter you the way you deserve...” she said in a voice so low that you barely heard it. Maybe she didn't speak so quietly. Maybe your heavy breathing was simply camouflaging it.

Her kisses went higher and higher, reaching the fabric that remained on your skin, separating you from the nakedness.

Donna paused for a moment, looking into your eyes, running a hand over your body; from your collarbone to the lower part of your belly. She seemed to be thinking about something. You didn't want to interrupt her moments of doubt.

“(Y/N), I want to make you feel loved, will you allow me to do so?” She asked, almost pleading, holding the edges of your underwear with her hands.

“Do it,” you said, your voice hoarse from desire, from the unbearable humidity you felt between your legs.

She smiled, lowering her hands slowly, studying the new parts of your body.

“Donna...” You said without meaning to, as if you were already feeling the contact you wanted so much.

That was like a signal to Donna, who went down immediately, kissing your navel and slowly going down to the required place, caressing your legs so that you wouldn't forget that, despite being a lustful act, love was the only thing she felt, and love was what she wanted to make you feel.

Her lips reached that area of ​​your body, delicately passing over your skin, kissing you softly, without revealing her lack of experience.

Her tongue sent an electrical current through your limbs as it made contact with your folds, licking them gently.

“Oh...” You moaned, letting yourself fall back, closing your eyes as you felt that pleasure so unknown to you, and to her. “Donna…”

She moaned into your body, without ceasing her feat, sucking just where you needed it, joining one of her hands to that mischief, separating what could bother her actions and touching and stimulating your clit carefully.

After a few moments of unmatched pleasure, your body tensed. Surely she thought adding a finger to the fun would be a good idea. It wasn't. Noticing how her finger entered only caused you to completely lose your self-control.

“You are delicious, my love...” Donna said, satisfied with how she had made you feel, continuing to caress you up and down, playing with your moisture on her fingers.

“Come here,” you said with a serious tone, pulling her wrist so you could kiss her and notice your own taste in her mouth.

After some messy kisses, the excitement returned to your body. You lay down on the bed, head resting on the pillow, dragging Donna by her hand so she was on top of you again, right between your legs.

Among the mess of your kisses, your hands became themselves again, reaching for Donna’s underwear, which was having serious problems hiding what the woman was ashamed of. You didn't want to wait any longer, and, above all, you didn't want to make her wait any longer. She had been kind, delicate, gentle with you. It was time to return the favor.

“Tesoro... I...” She said pulling away from your kisses as her erection was released from its prison. “I want I want…”

“Shh, don't talk...” you said, drowning her words with another deep kiss, as your hands brought her body closer to yours, making her dick meet your entrance for the first time.

“(Y/N)... I'm so...” She said trembling, moaning at the contact. “You are, you are perfect… your… Your body… I need… I want…”

“I said not to talk, darling,” you said jokingly, rocking your hips to increase the friction, causing a lustful gasp to echo off the walls of the room.

“Please... don’t, don't play with me. I need you...” Donna said, starting to sound terribly desperate.

Maybe you were trying to buy some time to get used to the idea of doing it, of Donna being the first. You wanted her to be the last too. Your shame could not come to light. If she knew for a moment how nervous you were, she would have stopped.

“Okay, Donna, make me yours but...” You said, avoiding her gaze, something she prevented by moving your chin slightly, searching your features for the shadow of doubt or insecurity.

“But...” She repeated, with the tremors of her body evidencing her anxious need.

“Be gentle with me, will you?” You asked, closing your eyes to drown out your fearfulness.

“Honey... I would never dare to treat you any other way,” she said, sighing, kissing you briefly, but tenderly, before checking for the last time that you were sure of that. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?” You asked back, laughing amused, noticing how her body pressed against yours desperately.

“No,” Donna responded, laughing and shaking her head before kissing you again as her hand moved down to place her length at your entrance.

Little by little the tip made its way through your moisture, entering you little by little. The feeling was much more overwhelming than you thought. You had already gotten the idea that it was going to hurt. It didn't worry you, although you couldn't help but make a strange face as she went deeper and deeper.

“Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?” Donna asked, her eye radiating concern, pausing her slow, respectful movements.

“No, don't stop, please...” you said immediately, caressing her cheek, shaking your hips, which made Donna moan at the contact.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I'm going to do it slower this time,” the lady whispered, holding your hand lovingly as she introduced her penis deeper and deeper.

“Oh, wow... It's... It's big,” you said, letting your body get used to the intrusion. She looked at you bewildered.

“I'm sorry,” she said apologetically, positioning herself better so that you both were more comfortable. You couldn't help but laugh.

“Oh, are you sorry? You must be the only one in the whole world who apologizes for something like that,” you said amused, closing your eyes, noticing how her body was dying to move inside you.

“Can I move? Please,” she asked you kindly, running her hands over your hips. You nodded, thus beginning a slow, soft rhythm, accompanied by kisses on your chest, on your shoulders, accompanied by her soft but anxious moans.

“It feels... So good...” Donna said with a brusque tone, with a marked accent that revealed that she was losing control of her emotions, in a good way, of course.

“Yes...” you moaned, unable to process all the pleasure you were feeling. Your walls stretched, adapting to her body in an almost prodigious way.

Your bodies were united, melted in a warm embrace. The soft, rhythmic movements of her hips followed yours. You were crazy with pleasure, you moaned like you never thought you would.

Donna was gentle, just as you asked. She gave you the time you needed, moving only when your hips told her to.

You couldn't believe how close you were to ecstasy.

Letting your desire control your actions, you wrapped your arms around her head, leaning down until you were on top of her again, her arms holding you, hugging you, her nails digging into your skin.

You moved your hips to give her pleasure. The sensation in your body was pleasant, you felt her inside of you. You felt you were hers.

 Donna kissed you quickly, holding back most of her moans. Her rhythm was still gentle, but the tremor you felt at your entrance told you that she wanted to get out of control. You weren't going to stop.

“Donna... Please... I'm so close…” you whispered into her ear, hissing when her nails dug into your back again.

“Me… Me too. I don't think I can hold it anymore...” she gasped, grunting with pleasure, letting your hips act on their own, increasing the speed with which she moved inside you.

“Don't stop, Donna... I'm so, so close...” you said, clinging to her body, dancing on her hips.

“Honey, I'm going to...” she said just before hugging you tightly, pressing you even closer against her body. You could feel her release inside you, her wet heat filling you, sending that familiar cramp through your limbs that made your entire body tense as a guttural moan joined hers.

“You know what, Donna?” You asked after catching your breath, getting into the bed next to her, still naked, still euphoric from the pleasure of your first time.

“Mm?” She murmured, stroking your hair, keeping your head on her bare chest.

“I would like to spend many more nights like this,” you said, rubbing your face against her skin, trying not to forget all the unique sensations she had caused to you.

“Maybe... Maybe you'd like... you know... Well, I've seen your house and it's quite small and damp,” Donna said, avoiding your gaze, making you smile and sigh.

"Yes, Donna, I want to live here with you," you said, sitting up to look at her face.

“Well, that's what I was going to ask you,” she said nervously, caressing your cheek.

“Great, deal then. Can I ask you something else?”

“What do you want, tesoro?” She asked curiously.

“Can you hold me, please?”

Donna laughed, lying down.

“I would spend my life holding you next to me.”

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions | jjk - series masterlist

title credit: bad decisions - bts

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb

synopsis

it's simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook's ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you've a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you've both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

genre / tropes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they're just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds) - see read more for warnings & authors note

wordcount: 450k babbbbyyyy (on-going)

soundtrack: official | reader suggestions

start date: 2022.08.06

minors dni // originally posted to wattpad

warnings: reader has a fear of emotional intimacy and uses physical intimacy as a substitute, jungkook has a deep-rooted fear of rejection. lots of drinking, lots of cursing, lots of bad decisions (every chapter includes at least (1)), jk and the oc have different styles of communication (woo miscommunication!!), a lot of past relationship trauma on both sides, jungkook is the sweetest angel baby ever, jin is kinda evil, jimin is a shit shag (and you have to experience it not once but twice!)

smut warnings: oc is a lil bratty, both switchy but jaykay definitely leads <3, fingering, oral (m & f), ass play, a looooot of titty sucking, cock warming, vaginal sex, sex toys (m & f), every position ever created, jaykay has a huge cawk <3, filming, lots of showering together, thigh riding, 69, squirting, panty sniffing (and sucking !), mutual masturbation, motel sex, endless orgasms, like, idek what else to add but there's more!! they just fuck a lot!! not my fault!! blame the birds!!

note from holly: i heard bad decisions once, ONCE, and knew i had to write about whiney jaykay and how fucking him would be a bad decision, but then it spiralled and now im 370k words deep into a fic about origami birds, glitter, and the way jungkook thinks he'll die every time he gets horny. of everything I've ever written it's hands down my favourite set of characters. jungkook is good in a way that he isn't in literally any of my other fics. i think it's my most well-received fic over on wp and it's just v v special to me. i hope u enjoy it!

BAD DECISIONS

key: smut 💖 | holly's fave ✨ | reader fave* 🪩 | bird 🕊 | club 🍇 *as per my wp stats all chapters listed below are available on wp, and will eventually be linked here too.

BD #1 - Purple Starfuckers - 3.5k

🍇 | a disco ball walks into a bar...

BD #2 - Park Jimin - 3.2k

💖 | does it count if you don't finish?

BD #3 - Coffee - 2k

message request from justjk

BD #4 - The Gym - 4.1K

just wanted an excuse to write about gym rat jk tbh

BD #5 - The Bet - 6.6k

🍇🪩 | songs that remind you of the past, blissfully unaware you're laying the foundations of your future

BD #6 - Wishing - 6k

🍇| summer goes by in a technicolour haze

BD #7 - Sex With An Ex - 6k

✨| kim seokjin looks like an angel, loves like lucifer

BD #8 - Washi Tape - 8k

enter stage left: origami birds

BD #9 - White - 6k

✨🕊 | old, leering men at waterparks are gross. jungkook is not.

BD #10 - Blonde - 3.5k

in the wise words of maisie peters, there's nothing more frightening than a woman scorned and a box of bleach

BD #11 - Perry - 5.9k

🕊 | it's totally normal to shower with your friends

BD #12 - An Agreement -7.4k

💖🕊 | jungkook has to leave the room cause he gets way too hard (in a platonic way)

BD #13 - Work of Art - 11.8k

💖 🪩🕊 | you discover mirrors. jungkook discovers tits. learning is fun!

BD #14 - New Rules - 8k

💖 🪩🕊 | jungkook's got nice hands and he knows how to use them

TO BE UPLOADED

BD #15 - Paper Planes

BD #16 - Overindulging

BD #17 - Jeon Jungkook

BD #18 - Cake

BD #19 - Send To All

BD #20 - Park Jimin... Again

BD #21 - Doing The 'Right' Thing

BD #22 - Listening To Jimin

BD #23 - Cherry Picking

BD #24 - Resolutions

BD #25 - January

BD #26 - January, Still

BD #27 - Keeping Quiet

BD #28 - Avoidance

BD #29 - 'Daddy'

BD #30 - Evaluating The Meaning of 'Home'

BD #31 - The Photo Booth

BD #32 - Question...?

BD #33 - Boundaries (Or Lack Thereof)

BD #34 - Speed Dating

BD #35 - Saying 'Please'

BD #36 - Denial

BD #37 - Faking It

BD #38 - Delaying The Inevitable

BD #39 - Rooms

BD #40 - Spinning Bottles

BD #41 - Locked Doors

BD #42 - Hitting Where It Hurts

Wattpad | AO3

[jarofstyles]

Sugar, Sugar 12

Here they are, finally. With the smut <3 I know you've been asking about it so here she is!

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings

Series masterlist

WC-5.4k

Warnings- body issues, past trauma, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, y'all know the drillll.

----

Y/N felt like she was going to pass out. 

The room was dimly lit by one small lamp on the bedside table. The walls were painted a soft shade of blue, and the curtains were drawn closed, shutting out the world beyond. Y/N laid on the bed, fidgeting with the sheets, her heart racing with anticipation. She couldn't believe she was finally here, that this was finally happening after all the teasing and workup to this sort of thing. 

She had agonized over what to wear to bed, finally settling on an oversized tee shirt much more suited for her. It was a Queen tour tee shirt, a soft cream color and buttery smooth. One of her favorites to wear to sleep. Being bold, she had decided on no shorts and simply a pair of black lace panties. How long would they even stay on? She had no clue. Not if Harry had anything to do with it. All she knew was that she had been the most prepared she could be. Sneaking into his bathroom, she had spread coconut body lotion on her skin to get her as smooth as possible, taking her hair down from the half assed updo she had done, spritzing herself with body spray and brushing her teeth twice. Overkill, perhaps, but she wanted to be good. To be what he had been anticipating. 

Staring up at the ceiling. She fidgeted nervously, feeling a bit out of place in his room. Harry had ordered her to his room while he finished cleaning the kitchen, dangerously leaving her alone with her thoughts. As sexy as it was that the man could clean up after herself (And bare minimum), she knew that should could only last so long before she went crazy.

As she waited, she couldn't help but start to notice all the little details about his room. The closet door was closed, a tv hanging over one of his dressers that mirrored the end of the bed. A full size mirror stood in the corner- which she had covered with a blanket. She’d have to talk to him about mirrors and portaling later. He had a few pieces of art, some little sculptures, paintings on the walls of varying sizes to make a little gallery. What had surprised her was his basket of sunglasses on the previously mentioned dresser. Soft cream, it held an almost overflowing amount of sunglasses which had confused her. She had really only seen him wear 1 or 2 pairs of them. Maybe she could snoop later. There was still so much to know about him, so much to learn. All she craved was getting closer to him. Emotionally, mentally, physically. 

God, she was crawling out of her skin. She wanted his touch so badly that she knew that the moment he touched her tonight that she would be wet. They’d behaved for the most part, Y/N pretending to ignore Harry’s eye fucking because she was still hyping herself up. There was no turning back now. She let out a sigh, feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. She and Harry had been dating for a while now, but she still felt like she was getting to know him. She wondered if he felt the same way. If he still felt like every time they hung out he was learning more and more about her. 

But even through the nerves, she wasn’t uncomfortable. She trusted Harry with her body, with her vulnerability. She looked forward to handing herself over to him for a bit, to enjoy his hands and lips and get to know how he was as a lover. Was he a biter? He had been vocal in the past but she had to hope that he would get dirty with her tonight. She needed it.

Just then, Harry walked back into the room, carrying two bottles of water. He grinned when he saw her sitting pretty in his bed, hair down now and changed. She was a fucking vision in his bed, surrounded by all things him. His pillows, laying on his sheet, the man couldn’t help that sensation of self satisfaction in his chest., Setting the water down on his nightstand before crawling onto the bed next to her. He hadn’t wanted her to have to get thirsty and not have anything to drink when she woke up or.. After activities.

He took a moment to look at her, watching her hands fiddle with the sheets as she looked up at him with rounded eyes, he could see the mixed emotions on her face- but it wasn’t necessarily fear. He wanted her to talk to him, tell him what was going on in that beautiful brain of hers. Sensing that she was probably needing a bit of soothing, Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Hey," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What's going on in that mind?"

She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up. "I’m just nervous, I think. I really want to do this, and have been thinking about it for a while. But sometimes those old nerves come creeping in and I get worried you won’t like what you see. I usually don’t feel this way, but when we peel back those layers and get to the real stuff, sometimes this sort of feeling leaks past. I’m sorry.” She peeped, looking down at her lap.

Harry looked at her with a soft expression, his eyes filled with understanding. "Hey, look at me.” His finger nudged her chin up, directing her eyes at him. “There she is. Sweet thing.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers chastely, starting slow. “I know it can be scary to open up and let someone in," he said. "But I want you to know that I feel the same way. S’fucking terrifying. When you care about  someone, sex means a hell of a lot more. But I need you to listen to this, even if you don’t fully grasp it yet.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes looking over hers, hoping they could convey just how serious he was.

“I adore what I see. I’ve been attracted to you since we met. I know people have probably said some fucked up things, made this sort of thing scary for you- and I wish I could beat the hell out of them. Wish I could take that away and make your experiences only positive, only let you feel as beautiful as you actually are. I know you know how gorgeous you are, that this sort of thing brings you back- from what you’ve told me anyways. But I need you to know that I have never felt more attracted to someone in my life. S’not going to change without your clothes on.”

His words made her heart swell with affection for him. Finally. This was what she deserved. Someone tender with her heart, who got it- or at the very least, attempted to get it. That’s what she had asked for. Harry had seemingly come out of nowhere, placed in her direct path because he would get it. He was meant for her. Her eyes stung a bit as she felt the words hit her fully. It felt so fucking good to know how much he genuinely cared. How he was attracted to her, how he wanted to help her rewrite those experiences.

What she wanted to say couldn’t be expressed very well verbally, so she kissed him instead. Placing her own hand on his neck and pulling him in, kissing him fully as she urged him closer to her as she started to lean back. It was a fiery kiss, one that he could feel down to his bones. She meant this kiss. It was hot and heated, making him moan into her mouth as her fingers tugged slightly on the hair she had found to urge him closer. He would never tire of that. 

“Thank you.” She whispered against his lips, fiddling with his hair as he adjusted. “I just want you. Want to do it. Can we?” 

Harry smiled against her mouth, his heart quickening in his chest. He hadn’t expected that sort of reply.  He had been fully prepared to take more time sweet talking her- but his mouth could be put to better use. “Anything you want.” He murmured to her. “Seems you’ve still got me wrapped under your spell. M’gonna be so good to you.” His lips puckered against hers, nudging their noses together before he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head. “We go as fast or as slow as you want. I’m jus’ feeling insane that I’ve even got you here.” Going back down to her mouth, he brushed his thumb against her plump bottom lip, slightly swollen from their kisses tonight. He wondered if it stung, if it was sensitive, but she answered that by wrapping said lips around the digit and sucking on the tip of it softly. Just a bit, her tongue brushing the underside as she gave him her softest eyes clouded with that hint of lust. Lust for him. 

“I like this.” His voice trilled. “Like that you’re so pretty with your lips wrapped around me in any way.” Pushing his thumb a bit further into her mouth, he watched her cheeks hollow as she took it deeper and let her teeth grace his knuckle before pulling ot back out. “Temptress, that’s what you are.” He took his wet thumb and smeared it over her lip, spreading her own saliva on it before catching her lips in a kiss. “Need t’get you naked.” 

This is what she had been worried about initially, but with his mouth on hers she felt a little floaty as his fingers gently tugged up her sleep shirt, only breaking their kiss when he had to tug it over her head. It was abundantly clear that he was looking when she heard his breath hitch, eyes glancing down at her bare breasts. Of course she wasn’t wearing a bra to sleep, Y/N would fight demons over underwires, but she knew she made the right call when Harry knelt down and began to kiss down her neck. 

“How are you so perfect?” He groaned, peppering kisses to her while motioning for her to lay back. Harry was taking his time to play with her, to observe, to worship. “Can I touch, Sugar? Let me see how soft you really are?” 

Her nod was slow, watching his face break out in a naughty grin before his hands traveled south. Despite how comfortable she was with Harry, it still made her tense a little as his hand fell to her waist. How it ran over her stomach, the one forbidden area she usually refused to be touched- but he did nothing but love on her. Letting his hands trace every curve, every dip and edge as his mouth moved further down to the hollow of her throat and bit down softly to make her whimper. 

“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Like one of those paintings, hm? Y’know what I’m talking about. So soft and lush, just want to bury my face in you.” He whispered, ignoring her necklaces as he moved to the swells of her breasts. They weren’t as perky as she’d like, but that apparently had no effect on Harry. He took them into his hands, audibly groaning as he kneaded them gently. He genuinely looked pained, and a peek down showed he was hard in his pants. “Christ. M’the luckiest fucking man. Look at you.” His voice coated in awe, he let his thumbs brush over her hardened nipples, exhaling shakily. 

He let his lips kiss over them, the expanse peppered in soft, slightly wet kisses leaving an imprint behind that glowed in the dim light before he went to the middle of her chest. “M’trying to take my time. Know I have all night… but you’re driving me crazy.” He croaked, letting one hand down down her stomach to the edge of her lace panties. It had been a pain in the ass to actually find comfortable lace in her size, but she would gladly go on the hunt for days to find more if it made him look at her like this. A spark went up her spine and a soft gasp left her throat as his thumb moved down, stroking her slit lightly. Cupping her mound, letting his thumb trace over the lace as she exhaled shakily, his lips closing around her nipple. 

A whine she hadn’t ever made before bleated through her lips, hands finding his hair as he flicked his tongue over the pebbled nipple and continued the movements over her most sensitive place. There was no hesitation, nothing she had feared had come true. No recoil, nothing but a positive, lustful gaze and words of praise leaving him. She could tell they were genuine, his excitement palpable in the room. 

“Wet for me.” He mumbled against her skin. “Got the panties wet, just sitting and waiting for me. Been dying for it just like me, hm?” He asked, smugness written on his face. “I’ve been tryin’ to pace myself.. Like you too much to rush, didn’t want to just jump into bed with you but… I’ve been dreaming about it.” Lowering himself further, Y/N made herself relax instead of tense like she had naturally inclined to doing. His lips brushed her stomach, the softness of it making him nuzzle against it before moving down. He knew she would be self conscious if he spent too much time there, but he wanted to help her get over that eventually- if she felt comfortable. He wanted to worship every inch of the woman, his modern goddess. 

“Me too.” She replied, watching with hazier eyes as he found himself snugly between her legs. The man spared no area, kissing her over the panties before moving to her thighs, the fullness making him moan. She continued talking as she felt his lips exploring. “I appreciate you wanting to take me seriously and do it right but- but I’ve been desperate for it.” It wasn’t a shameful thing to admit. Harry was beyond attractive and she had the sexiest boyfriend she’d ever seen, how could anyone blame her for being eager to fall into bed with him. “Not too much teasing, p-please.” Her words stuttered as she felt his teeth graze her thigh, making her shudder. They were still on the road to discovering what each other liked, but Y/N was impatient. She had waited far too long. 

“Oh, m’sorry, Sugar.” He murmured against her, digging his fingers into the waistband of her panties. “Just getting to know my girl. But let’s get down to it, hm? Didn’t mean to tease you.” His nimble fingers were quick to slide them off, aiding her in lifting her legs and tossing them to the side before letting out a whimper of the view. Y/N was beautiful in all areas, but this was his personal favorite at the moment. “Fuck me… You are everything.” He moaned, wasting little time before leaning in to let his tongue run up her slit. 

Her legs tensed for a moment, his arms hooking under her to hold them open in anticipation of this. She had done such a good job at sucking him the first time, and he knew he wasn’t going to ever leave her alone again. He had appreciation for all women, but Y/N was the prettiest he had ever seen. He was determined to get her soft and pliant, keep her puffy and sensitive for him before he slid his cock inside of her. Just a taste was good, but he wanted to. Greedy for her was becoming a new key trait of his. 

“Oh my god.” The girl moaned, feeling his tongue circle her clit. Looking down she could see his eyes, the hunger in them as he licked over her. It was new to her, seeing someone look almost… desperate to touch her. “Just like that, H.” Her praise seemed to make it even worse, nuzzling his face into her cunt with little care about the mess it would make on his face and testing out movements with his tongue. He was incredible, obviously, but Y/N had a bit more limited experience when it came to getting eaten out. She’d had it happen, sure, but there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was the trust, the feelings, but everything felt better. 

Harry was pleased, feeling how she relaxed for him and arched slightly into his face as her hands wound in his hair. Her heavier breathing fueled him, noting every reaction he could. Her thighs tried to close as he latched on to her swollen clit, sucking it lightly into his mouth with a wet sound that went straight to his cock, but he kept her still as he did so. He knew now that he would be spending plenty of time down here, learning exactly how to make her cum from just this alone- but he had to work her open a little bit. 

Pulling away from her clit, his face lifted and arm moved to slick his fingers against her cunt. “You’re happy, baby?” He crooned, not minding the slickness of his chin and mouth. He had no reservations about getting messy, and Y/N had expressed a like for it too, so when he crawled back up and her hands grabbed his face to kiss her, he wasn’t shocked. The response was just as hungry, sliding a finger inside of her and muting her squeak with his mouth as he suckled on her tongue. His cock rutted slightly against her thigh, groaning as he felt how truly tight she was. Soaked, but tight. 

“I need you inside.” She panted, eyebrows furrowed as her hand slid down to his cock. Waiting for his nod, she slipped it into his pants and watched in satisfaction as his face fell into one of pleasure as she wrapped her hand around the base of him, giving a few strokes. “Please? I know it’ll hurt but- but I like it.” She whispered up at him. “Make it hurt a little bit, H. Please, just get inside me.” 

“Condom- are we?” He knelt up on his knees as he shucked his pants down, eyes on her hand. She never stopped stroking him, only once to spit on her palm to make the glide that much easier. His head wasn’t on straight right now, worked up in the arousal he felt. 

“No- No, we’re okay. I want it like this. If we can.” Y/N didn’t want to pressure him into anything, but by the look on his face he was more than happy to do so. Harry was visible to read, she found, and i instances like this she absolutely loved it- but she really wanted him to fuck her. 

“Course, anything for you.” His fingers slid out from her cunt, brought to his mouth so he could greedily get another taste of her with the deep groan that made her pulse. Y/N was beginning to get desperate. How had she lasted this long without him? “How do you want me to take you, Sugar? Hm?” His eyes were blazing as they met hers. “Like this? On your knees?” He was giving options. 

“Knees.” Leaning up for one more kiss, she took it wetly before spinning around to get comfortable. This way felt so good, and she was comfortable like this- but she hadn’t expected the spank on her bare ass. The startled squeak was accompanied by his warm hand soothing the sting, making her lean into it further. 

“God… this ass.” He moaned, holding it in his hands. Harry was obsessed with every part of her, but there was no denying he was an ass man. He’d secretly praised whatever god was out there that she had chosen this way. This position was what he’d been jerking off to for weeks, and seeing her with her face laying on the pillow, hands on the sheets and ass in the air was ten times better than it was in his fantasies. “You are the most tempting thing I’ve ever seen. This is what I dream about.” He whispered, kneading it before fisting his cock. “Want to see it move when I fuck you. Perfect fucking girl.” 

Y/N let out a garbled moan as she felt the tip of his cock run over her soaked slit, finding her entrance. The first push made her tense slightly before his hand ran down her back, soothing her. He was big. Big enough for it to sting slightly as he began to push in, making them both let out noises. It was like she could feel every bit of it. Never having forgone a condom before, it was a bit more intense than she had realized but god, was it worth it. He was being patient, slowly pushing in as she could feel him twitching against her, but it was worth it. 

“More.” She gasped. “More, H.” 

Harry was in awe of how good she was- how good she felt. Watching her cunt split open and take him, it was evident that she hadn’t been fucked in a long while, and shamefully he loved being the one to take her back. Hopefully the last cock to ever fill her, the only one she would crave, he’d tried to be gentle, but his sweet little Sugar wanted more. “More?” He laughed. “Tiny cunt can barely take this much. D’you think you can really handle more?” 

He was testing out limits, and if Y/N wasn’t already dripping? She’d be soaked all over again. “I can do it.” She whined, pushing back on to him. “Promise, I can take it. Give me more.” 

Doing as told, Harry began to push further into her. A deep groan left his mouth as he watched her swallow him up, slipping himself inside of her tight channel. It wasn’t the easiest, resisting slightly, but he could feel how wet she was getting.  “How’s it feel, Sugar?” He asked softly, holding on to her hip as he got the last bit in. Fully submerged in her, she was dripping on him. “Hm? Talk t’me.”

“Full.” The girl choked out, grabbing the sheets until her knuckles paled. “Stings, but- I love it.” Did she ever. This was the fullest she had ever been, his cock thick and long and perfect for her as he stayed seated fully in her for a few moments before she began to rock on him. “Fuck me. Don’t be gentle, please. I can- I can take anything you give me.” 

Harry would still be careful, but he trusted her. If she wanted to be fucked? He was going to deliver. Slowly pulling out a few inches, he slammed back in to make her yelp. He did it again. And again, listening to her noises as he started to find a rhythm. It was a hot, wet heaven sucking him in and he was loving every moment of it. 

Y/N was reacting just how he liked. Whimpering and pushing back on to him, moaning for him as he brought his hand down on her ass again and watched the skin ripple as it hit. His obsession with her ass was only being fueled as he watched it hit his groin. This was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. 

He continued, watching as his girl tugged at the sheets and whined for him, fueling his ego as he began to fuck into her harder. It only seemed to satisfy her more. It was the most free he had felt during sex in his life. Not worried about hurting her too much as he saw what she preferred, he pounded into her as he held her hips tightly. Surely there would be bruises on her after this, but part of him relished in that. Marks made by him on the perfect woman underneath him, marking her as freshly fucked and fully his. 

Y/N felt like she was being fucked stupid. Like each thrust was making her focus only on how to get this to never end, how she wanted him to stay humping her forever. He wasn’t holding back and fuck, did it feel good. Harry was strong, thorough and so deep she swore if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was in her stomach. “You’re giving it… so good.” She slurred, eyes watering slightly as his hand wrapped around her hair and tugged. A whine left her as she was forced up, scrambling to use her hands as he fucked into her sopping cunt like it belonged to him. “Hit me again- please.” She begged as his hand in her hair made her arch her back. 

The man chuckled in disbelief, bringing his free hand down against her ass again, and again. Watching as the spot moved and her ass rippled from the force of his thrusts. The moans coming from her felt too good to be true, but as he pulled her up and had her on her knees, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped an arm around her own, his other hand turning her head so he could kiss her. Albeit sloppy at this angle, Y/N was feeling like she was in a dream as he cooed against her cheek. 

“So fucking wet for me, you’re dripping. Naughty girl. Like it when I rough you up a little, hm?” A yank of her hair made her mewl, doing her best to nod. “Was going to go nice and slow, make love t’you… but you had to tell me to fuck the gentleness. Had to make me fuck you like a little whore.”  The slight degradation made her cry out, clutching the arm bracing her to his chest as she searched out his lips- but he wasn’t done talking. “Knew you were dirty… But getting off on this? Being called a whore, being fucked bare and on your knees? Never knew my sweet little Sugar had it in her.” He released her hair to collar her throat, his strong hand wrapping firmly around her neck as he jostled her with his thrusts. 

“My sweet girl didn’t want soft. No… You wanted the fucking only I could give you, Yeah? All the rest couldn’t fuck you right, but you knew that I could.” His lips dragged against her ear, making her shiver. “And that’s why you’re letting me keep you. Cause I love this beautiful body, wany every single inch to crave my touch. M’gonna train you to want me everywhere. Your neck, your cunt, your stomach, your thighs… You’re going t’feel every bit of beautiful as you are.” His voice was darker, rougher, and it went straight to her cunt. Y/N swore she could cum just from that. 

“Yeah, yes, only you can fuck me like this.” She babbled back, knowing it was the truth- but she couldn’t wait until later one when she showed him it was the same for him. Only she would fuck him the way he wanted. She would take control at some point and show him that, but for now she was more than happy to let him take the lead. He did an incredible job. 

It felt like she was on fire, the tips of her nerves buzzing as he fucked into her over and over again. With whispered permission, he closed his fingers around the side of her neck in a practiced way, cutting off a bit of air and giving her the headrush she needed. “Gonna cum- I’m gonna cum, Harry.” She said frantically, voice slightly strained as the mix of his cock hitting the spot she needed, the words and his hand around her neck having her barrelling towards orgasm much faster than she had before. It was almost rare, before, to cum during penetrative sex, but he was getting her in that exact way she needed. 

“Go on, baby.” He encouraged. “Soak me, c’mon. Cum on my cock, my perfect little whore. Sweet little goddess… Show me how good you feel.” He continued the same pace, not wanting to change a thing so she could meet her end. It fueled him to know it was his doing as he watched her begin to fall over the edge. 

Y/N’s ears were ringing as she came, all she could focus on was the pleasure. White hot, spilling from her belly to her clit, all the way to her eyes as they watered. The most pathetic little scream was given as she began to tremble in his arms, nails digging into the one holding her up as her cunt fluttered around him. Her breathing caught in her throat, even as he released the grip and simply held her he worked her through it, but it was difficult to stop. She began to go limp, unable to keep herself up. 

Harry was right at the edge, feeling that orgasm- but he was gentle as he lowered her down, body following after her as he chased her orgasm. Now weighted on top of her, he used one hand to make sure he didn’t crush her while the other stayed on her throat while he buried his face into her neck, grunting as he felt his orgasm crest. It hit him like a train, his own pathetic whine leaving his chest as he shuddered on top of her, sloppy final thrusts pushing him over the edge. A moan of her name left his swollen lips into her neck as the first ribbon of cum spilled into her, stalling as his balls began to pulse and the thickened load of cum began to fill her up. 

It was more intense than either of them had felt before. Both felt stinging in their eyes, a need to stay close, and want to hold on- so they did. Recovering slowly, Harry stayed buried in her cunt as he pressed kissed silently to her cheek and neck as his cock gave its final twitches inside. Spent. It was unusually comfortable despite the stickiness between bodies, and when Y/N gathered the strength she lifted her head and whined softly for a kiss which the man happily gave. 

“You okay?” He asked softly after a few moments of quiet breathing and her body stayed under his. He was blown away, if he was honest, but he didn’t know how to verbalize it to her. 

“M’so good.” Y/N giggled, feeling his nose against hers as he smiled. “I don’t know what got into us, but I loved it.” The woman knew how rare good sex actually was at this point, especially for her, but Harry had almost read her mind. She’d directed a little, but he followed every cue her body had given. He’d taken control, was a little degrading but not too mean. She’d get him to be meaner later- or show him how mean she could be. 

“Me too.” He admitted, hissing as he adjusted in her. He was sensitive for now. “Gotta pull out in a minute. D’you want to take a shower?” His fingers were gentle as he removed them from her throat, moving the hair that was stuck to her face. “Need to make sure you’re all taken care of.”

It warmed her heart to know he cared. He actually gave a fuck if she was okay and knew what aftercare was. She’d gotten lucky. 

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” She yawned, burying her head into the pillow. “My legs are like jell-o. You can be smug about it.” The permission was heavily earned. 

“Well, I will be. But I want you to be comfortable first.” He sighed. “I'll give us a minute but m”gonna have to change the bed.”  Harry didn’t want to assume anything of her for another round, but she answered that herself. 

“Don’t bother.” She mumbled. “You’re going to be back inside of me before we get out of bed tomorrow.”  Harry couldn’t argue with that. All he knew was, he had gotten a proper taste of Sugar- and he was an addict.

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 ?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

You're probably going through a chaotic period in life right now. You have a lot of unhealed trauma and there's a need to work through it. You seem to have lost a lot in life, be it people, things or money. Some of you have unconsciously started villainizing yourself. While, you're able to see the darker aspects of yourself. You should forgive yourself, you might have internalised the belief that you destroy everything, you destroy yourself, you attract chaos into your life through your thoughts and actions and while it is partially true. You seem to have always tried to do the best for yourself. You seem to have a lot of revelations with every decision that you make, with almost every interaction that you have with others. Some of you, might be abuse survivors, there's a need to heal those wounds so you don't turn out like the ones who abused you. I'm getting that for most of you, life just drastically changed one day and it was never the same again. I'm not sure if it was a good or bad change though. Everytime you feel like you're doing better or you can trust the other person, it's like the rug gets pulled from beneath your feet.

You're going through a period where you can restructure your life for the better. There might be times when you have a hard time pulling yourself out of this energy and you might end up really villainizing yourself. You seem to have forgotten what a peaceful life feels like. However, you're actually a very loving person who values alignment and healthy relationships. When you love, you love truly. It would be surprising if you guys have never once in your life experienced true love. You also tend to feel really passionate towards the ones you love. You want to treat them well, you want to spend your energy on them and do and give things to them. You also seem to care about physical attraction when it comes to relationships. You might have a hard time even being friends with people who you don't find attractive. You crave balanced relationships with equal and a lot of give and take. You have a duality is very strong. Dark feminine and light feminine energies combined for the greater good, you're learning how to balance them out. You want to have someone that you'll always choose and someone who'll always choose you. This is sweet. Take care, mate.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

You're business minded, you have a lot of potential for getting wealthy. You also seem to really value security and feel your best when you're disciplined. I just heard 'motivation comes and goes, discipline stays'. You also seem to value certain traditions that are not restricting. Some of you guys probably have trouble with rotational dating because you see it as a waste of time. This generation disappoints you in certain ways, atleast when it comes to romance. You wish to be successful and build a legacy for yourself. Maturity and trust are very important for you in every relationship, be it professional, romantic or platonic. Some of you guys might not get approached in public when you're by yourself because you seem very uninterested and kind of intimidating. You strongly desire wealth, success and power. You get annoyed when people don't co-operate with you. You enjoy debates. You're pretty agreeable usually. However, you do not mind standing up for your beliefs and yourself. It takes a lot for you to actually express anger though. You're very agreeable but also defensive. You know how to keep people at an arm's distance and defend yourself with all your might if things come to it. You're very protective of yourself. You also seem to be very demanding even if you don't express it openly, people can pick up on it.

If you've ever lowered your standards and tried to be happy with the bare minimum, it probably didn't work out well for you. For some of you, people feel like you're acting as if you're better than them. You might often notice that when you're one-on-one with someone especially someone of the same sex, they might be nice to you but when they're in a group, they either exclude you or well just turn on you, in some way. People try to victimize you while villainizing you but you fight them off, directly or indirectly. You're very agreeable, you resist when others attack you, you don't like to fight and want to live peacefully but if someone is going above and beyond, you do snap at some point. If you do not confront them directly, you do something (intentionally/unintentionally) that makes them feel bad. People often have to watch you glow up and live happily. You seem to always come out on top, no one can do anything to bring you down. Well, you might feel bad, however, you still continue developing as a person. You should be more open to people while still having healthy boundaries. You're also very committed to somethings and people. You often find yourself in positions where you are forced to defend yourself. Your closest friends and family members might often turn on you. Nothing can break you and your faith in yourself though. Stay winning, mate.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

Most of you probably have had a satisfying home life right from your childhood days. If not, you want to in the future. You wish to experience pure contentment. You want to have a balanced life in every aspect. You don't want to work until you die. I heard something about wanting to escape the 9-5 but there's a part of you who wishes to live a 9-5, structured and mundane life too. You guys want to do so many different things at the same time because you're such a multidimensional and flexible person. You guys want to become a doctor, lawyer, singer, pianist, influencer, farmer, saint, reiki healer, actor, etc. All at the same time. There's a part of you that wants to receive things without working too, however, there's another part of you that enjoys living a well structured life that allows you to work hard. I'm getting that you're really good at mediating. You don't enjoy fighting or seeing others fight atleast if it gets violent. You're a really patient person and are open to looking at things from a moderate perspective. People often assume that you're their soulmate even if you aren't. You just have a way with people. Your inner peace seems to mean a lot to you and when you're at peace with yourself, you tend to help others be at peace with themselves too. You have the ability to look at things from a higher and objective perspective. Since, you're able to look at things from a higher light, you're able to trust and have hope. Everything in life is like a redirection for you. Even if you are at a period where you're not at peace with yourself, even if this period lasts for a decade, you're able to be at peace with yourself in the end. You're able to find your direction and begin to understand why things had to happen the way they happened. You have dreams that you wish would come true. You're the happiest when you follow your dreams, even though you seem to have multiple of them and all of them resonate with you deeply, there's one in particular that makes you really happy.

I just heard 'childhood dream' and 'teenage dream'. If you continue working hard, have faith in yourself and your visions, you have a very bright future ahead of you. Some of you, seem to have forgotten who you are and what you're capable of. You seem to have dimmed your shine or you had done so at some point. I'm here to remind you to be yourself and get back on the track. You have the ability to get literally anything you want. So far, I'm pretty sure you have atleast 8/10 things you wanted in the past. Also, for the conscious manifestors, you're doing everything right, your manifestations will come into fruition if only you let things flow. You are probably renewing yourself right now because you've realised that there's things that don't serve you anymore. One of the reasons, you deserve all the success and happiness in the world is because you are always working on yourself and don't mind making necessary changes even if they're not easy. You're also different from other people and might feel like you don't fit in at times but you're starting to realise that you deserve to be loved exactly as you are and no matter how much you change, you always seem to build a deeper connection with yourself and feel more like yourself. It's like you're a completely different person than who you were last year but now you've never felt more like yourself. I'm so proud of you. You're supposed to do things your way and you're loved, even though there seem to be only a few who truly understand you and manage to connect with you in your level of depth. You inspire people to become better. People who are miserable and cannot work on themselves and make things better for themselves tend to turn bitter and might treat you quite harshly but please remember 'people only try to intimidate you if you've already intimidated them'. I hope that you're always happy and continue living as the amazing person that you are. I love you so much !!

[bykshre]

STILL WITH YOU ll 02

CHAPTER 02 // song - August, Taylor Swift

➥ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : CEO Jungkook x Head Of Department Y/N

➥𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 10,130

➥𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 7 years ago, you and jungkook broke up after a long-term relationship in high school and college. Never have you ever thought that one day, you would reunite with your ex-lover or the guy you once believed was the love of your life. What does fate hold for the both of you?

➥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 : exes to lovers, angst, slow burn, grumpyxsunshine, a second chance.

➥ 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : M

➥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : curses, alcohol, jk is fuckboy, unresolved emotions, trauma, extreme emotions, backstabbers... (not all of these are included in this chapter)

01 ll 02 ll 03 ll ongoing series

As the morning sun timidly seeped through the curtains, you reluctantly opened your eyes, greeted by the harsh reality of a pounding headache. The remnants of a restless night clung to your senses, and you groggily fumbled for the snooze button on the blaring alarm. As you reached for the snooze button, the weight of knowing you probably tainted Jimin's day with your usual tales of heartbreak settled heavily on your conscience.

You feel like shit right now because of your hangover though you do get up after swallowing 2 painkillers that were placed beside your bed with a glass of water. You are very grateful for having Jimin as your roommate- Jimin's angelic presence is a treasure you never want to lose from your life. He has given nothing but empathy, compassion, comfort, solace, advice and never-ending "big-bro" talk to you that you are very grateful for even though you may not show it and perhaps occasionally roll your eyes when he gives you the pep talks.

Realising it's almost 6.00 a.m., you hastily iron your classic pencil skirt and a pink blouse that had wrinkled up as you tend to be disorganised (sometimes) while you wait for the throbbing headache to subside. Working for JKH MedTech was great for you - your boss is a sweetheart elderly man you regard as your late grandfather. So arriving late wasn't going to be a big issue as your working space has always been filled with adoration, laughs and supportiveness in projects and every way.

You rarely arrive late as you have always been a morning person. You wake up at 4 in the morning every day... a pattern you've been practising since high school, something Jungkook very well knows. There's some undefinable feeling about waking up early, enjoying the tranquillity before the storm, finalising reports and relishing a cup of coffee in the morning.

Meanwhile, on the flip side of the city, Jungkook was waking up with a different kind of passion, barring the feelings he was going through last night and ready to conquer the day with a new project at JKH Tech. Something that he's been working on for years to finalize- to take over the CEO position and integrate JKH MedTech with JJK MedTech. Unaware of the parallel narratives unfolding.

7.00 a.m.

You step into the luxurious reception hall, where you are always welcomed and greeted nicely. The receptionist greets you with a warm smile while you greet them back. You enter the lift, and as the doors glide shut, you feel the subtle vibration signalling the ascent. The digital display above the doors blinks with each passing floor until it settles on the familiar number - 52. The lift slows to a halt, and as the doors part, you step out into your workplace, ready to face the day on the 52nd floor.

"Good morning, Y/N. Are you okay? I hope everything's alright because you rarely arrive this late." Your boss said with a concerned expression.

"Ah, not to worry, Jaehyun, everything's fine... just a little hangover." You laugh off.

"Today is going to be quite hectic as we're hosting our new merger for discussions and deals. Please refrain from pushing too hard on the new project for now, as there are more pressing office deals that require our attention. Additionally, I may need your assistance with a few tasks, given that this old man's brain tends to have its off days. For the time being, everything is to be kept under wraps, and we'll update you all once we've reached a conclusion. I hope that clarifies things."

You bid him goodbye with a good luck sign to wish him all the best in the negotiations and continue with your daily routine. You wonder what is going on behind the scenes with the negotiation deals. Nevertheless, you hope the company gets a good outcome.

7.30a.m.

In the back of a sleek black sedan, Jungkook absorbed a brief from his assistant while his driver navigated the city. Dressed sharply, he focused on the day's agenda of meetings and strategic moves. The luxury car moved through the urban landscape, carrying the anticipation of crucial decisions.

As he approached the entrance of JKH Tech, the glass doors slid open, ushering him into a realm where ideas took flight and were greeted by your very own boss, Mr Daehyun. Unbeknownst to him, on another floor of the facility, you were on your own trajectory, oblivious that your paths would intersect within the confines of the exact workplace.

To say the least, Jungkook was astonished with this company's architecture, formality and service. He has never stepped foot into this building before. This is because the previous negotiations have always been done at his own empire, JJK MedTech. Causing your boss to always have trips there. His presence today hinges solely on the fact that it's a deal-breaker moment. Intrigued by the place's reputation for fostering breakthroughs, he's here to witness its unique qualities and faculty firsthand.

As Jungkook makes his way up to the boardroom on the 53rd floor, a floor above you, he feels something in the pit of his stomach, a subtle shake that was indescribable forming. The elevator's ascent seemed to echo the rise of expectations, and Jungkook, momentarily captivated, couldn't quite pinpoint the source of the sensation. Nevertheless, despite the momentary distraction, he managed to shake himself out of it.

On the other hand, you were arranging and decorating the 53rd-floor main entrance just a few moments before your once-lover made it to the boardroom. Could that be why Jungkook experienced a subtle shift while navigating the building?

Whilst the boardroom was in the act, you and Jimin caught up at the nearby café. You felt excessively sorry knowing you tainted Jimin's day with your usual tales of heartbreak. Jimin's a gem - rare to find. His observance is the best part of him... he notices the slightest details and treats you well with unwavering love. One spontaneous Friday night, he surprised you with a box of dumplings after noticing your craving. Despite the hefty salary from JKH for your top-rated service and intelligence, he recognized your disciplined approach to saving money for the future. The act of bringing you the dumplings wasn't just about fulfilling a momentary desire but also a testament to his understanding of your priorities and a sweet reminder sometimes, it's okay to indulge in the present.

"Hey Jimin, I hope you didn't mind yesterday's drama. I'm genuinely sorry for whatever I unconsciously said...thank you for staying with me. I really appreciate your kindness." You said to Jimin while sipping on a cup of cold coffee.

"Y/n... I told you countless times that it's fine with me. You don't need to apologize, okay? Your sentiments are valid. I respect that." He said while enfolding you in his embrace. You both transmit the same admiration for each other and eternally will be there for each other under any circumstances. That's all that matters. "Thank you, Jiminie, I love you...forever."

"Madam Y/N, are you falling for this handsome man. OMG NEWSFLASH: Y/N HAS A CRUSH ON THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME, MOST HANDSOME MAN IN THIS WORLD, PARK JIMIN!!" He said teasingly.

"Shut the fuck up FuckBoy Jimin!" You laughed, playfully dismissing his teasing with a fond expletive.

The teasing and companionship come to a hasty halt as Jimin receives a call summoning him to the 53rd-floor boardroom. The same one in which the big bosses usually conduct influential business deals, which includes Jungkook today. The air shifted, and the lighthearted exchange gave way to a more serious atmosphere. Jimin is JKH's CEO's secondary assistant in business affairs... which doesn't require him to be involved in most deals or affairs. This was undoubtedly serious.

You both split as you ascended to the 52nd floor while Jimin continued his journey to the highest floor at number 53. You were definitely worried, not sure of the reason for what happened and how Jimin was involved. You are also worried about the outcome of JKH. Imagine having no idea of a deal, not knowing what's going on, everything kept hidden and away from the faculty. You choose not to listen to the rumour that the company is to be taken over or merged. You have worked with JKH for 6 years and have complete faith in them. Whatever that's finalized is their choice.

You distract yourself by occupying yourself with more work. The sounds of keystrokes and document fills the silence in the air. Despite the intensity of your focus, you couldn't shake the occasional glances at your phone, yearning for updates from the boardroom and the unfolding events.

The takeover discussions were a delicate dance, strategic manoeuvring of resources and power dynamics. Jungkook presence commanded attention, and sharp intellect was apparent in every estimated move. As Jimin sat in the boardroom hashing out deals, his eyes landed on Mr. Jeon. There was a sense of familiarity, just from Y/N's stories. Jimin tried to recall where he might've seen Mr. Jeon in Y/N's old pictures, but the details were a bit hazy.

3p.m.

You distract yourself by occupying yourself with more work. The sounds of keystrokes and document fills the silence in the air. Despite the intensity of your focus, you couldn't shake the occasional glances at your phone, yearning for updates from the boardroom and the unfolding events.

The takeover discussions were a delicate dance, strategic manoeuvring of resources and power dynamics. Jungkook presence commanded attention, and sharp intellect was apparent in every estimated move. As Jimin sat in the boardroom hashing out deals, his eyes landed on Mr. Jeon. There was a sense of familiarity, just from Y/N's stories. Jimin tried to recall where he might've seen Mr. Jeon in Y/N's old pictures, but the details were a bit hazy.

As the negotiation peaked, Jungkook was officially pronounced as the CEO of JKH+JJK MedTech. A deal-breaking that produced a piece of revolutionary news in the medical technology world. JKH MedTech has been bought over after bagging a 900 Million dollar deal.

Amidst the corporate whirlwind, Jimin sensed a shift in his role, surpassing the boundaries of colleague and friend. As change rippled through JKH+JJK MedTech, Jimin found himself on the verge of unknown territory, contemplating the new chapters ahead alongside the newly appointed CEO, Mr Jeon.

As the news settled, Jimin found himself piecing together the puzzle of Jungkook's identity. Memories of Y/N's stories and glimpses from old pictures entangled, creating a clearer picture of the man. In quiet moments, Jimin reflected on the enigma that was Jungkook. He wondered about the experiences and motivations that led him to mastermind such an influential takeover.

The journey of unravelling the layers of Mr Jeon had just begun, leaving Jimin in anticipation of the implicit narratives that lay beneath the polished facade. Jimin decided to keep the newfound information to himself for the time being. Despite the revelations in the boardroom, Jimin doesn't want to immediately share with Y/N the significant role of her ex, Jungkook. Understanding the personal connections, Jimin decided to allow Y/N the space to process the changes without the immediate weight of this revelation.

As for Jungkook, he's satisfied with his pristine accomplishment. The year's worth of drudgery has finally blossomed, and he can't feel as satisfactory as he is now. Yet, there's more anticipation boiling in the pit of his stomach that there is still something else he's been yearning for, is here. Somehow, that sensation leads him to a scent. A familiar scent.

Little did he know, his ex-lover stepped into the main cubicle, the epicentre of daily activities, just a foot apart from the boardroom, to hand in a few reports. The only reason you made your way up to the 53rd floor was to hand in the monthly reports of your department. This was a monthly routine for all heads of departments, and you're not an exemption.

Jungkook convinced himself he was being delusional and shook the weird thoughts out of his brain. He coughed and continued his speech, "Good evening to all the staff and faculty involved in this deal. I would like to express my sincere appreciation for your hard work and dedication. As a token of gratitude, I've arranged a little gift for each of you. Keep an eye on your emails; you'll find details on how to redeem it there. Thank you once again for your outstanding efforts. Oh yes, don't worry, beloved staff. While I may be strict during work, there's nothing to worry about outside of that. Have a great day."

As the office continues to empty, Jungkook, the unannounced new CEO, decided to call it a day and head home . As he entered the same lift, he once again got reminded of a specific scent when he took a whiff of it. A detailed aroma of someone, something he had known for years. You took this lift down to your floor just 10 minutes ago. By this time, your perfume scent would've faded but, Jungkook found himself captivated by the familiar fragrance that still clung to the air.

The proximity of their paths remained unknown to both, setting the stage for an unexpected encounter that held the potential to redefine the narratives of their intertwined histories.

5. p.m.

Fuckboy 😘🙄😧

Let's go back home together

Wait for me in the lobby 😘

You couldn't help but giggle at the chat message from Jimin, especially with his enthusiastic use of the '😘' emoji.

"Hey Minie, how did it go? Is everything alright? Are YOU alright? What's the decision? SPILL NOW!" The rapid-fire delivery of your thoughts left Jimin in stitches, and unable to contain his laughter, he dropped to the floor.

"Whoa, dude calm the fuck down, can you? Everything went well. Oh yeah, great news: I didn't lose my job. Um... the entire news will be informed in a few days. Man, I don't even know anything. Don't fucking ask me! Also, when the fuck were you this concerned about me? It's hilarious, Y/N. And I think that you've actually got a crush on me." He replied. "Sorry man, I kinda think I'm falling for you too." You said with a flirtatious tone. Despite the uncertainties, Jimin held onto the hope that this connection, filled with genuine moments and laughter, could be the anchor that steered them through whatever twists lay ahead.

There was a reason why Jimin didn't want to tell you anything. He prioritises your feelings and past relationships; he doesn't want to ruin your undying sanity. He wants you to act maturely when the story of the new CEO unfolds. He doesn't want to ever be involved with his friend's issues and wants to protect their peace. In his actions, he sought to shield you from unnecessary stress and maintain the tranquillity within your circle of connections.

As Jungkook neared his car, he noticed Jimin, the CEO's second assistant, and the mysterious woman getting into a vehicle together. The quiet evening amplified the sense of mystery as the car doors clicked shut. The soft glow from the car's interior painted a silhouette of intrigue. Jungkook, unsure about the woman's identity, felt a twinge of curiosity. Despite the intrigue of the moment, Jungkook chose not to dwell on the bizarre encounter.

While you and Jimin enjoyed a satisfactory bowl of cold noodles at home to end the day. In the quiet solitude of his car, the contrast between the routine of the road and the mystery of the evening played out on Jungkook's features. A simple drive through the illuminated city became a backdrop for the swirling reflections within. Curiosity warred with caution, leaving him at a crossroads. The road ahead blurred with the glow of streetlights, mirroring the anticipation that hung in the air. Jungkook's feelings, like the city's rhythm outside, hinted at a story yet to develop in the tranquil corners of the night.

Although he felt satisfied with the day, there was a lingering void in Jungkook's heart. The achievements and triumphs didn't fill an emotional gap. Despite the city lights passing by, a subtle ache remained beneath his content exterior, yearning for something more.

10p.m.

While nestled in the comfort of your bed, your very own cocoon, with a journal in your hands, you penned down the details of your day and reflected on it wisely. The soft glow of your bedside lamp painted a tranquil setting as you poured your reflections onto the pages. Today caught you off guard with unexpected waves of emotion and flashbacks. No, you didn't want to be reminded of your ex. You didn't foresee navigating through today with a heavy soul. Everything about today reminded you about Jungkook, someone who you loved. You've never been as unhappy or heartbroken as you are today. In fact, you were never reminded of him ever since 6 years ago. It's just that for the past 2 days, you've been getting a lot of reminders of him, his presence with multiple indications.

Call yourself crazy... you swore to yourself you could smell him today. You felt his presence. When you went to the 53rd floor to hand in the reports, a distinctive scent of someone you used to know wafted through the atmosphere. Despite its subtlety, the lingering aroma clung to the surroundings, a nostalgic echo that left you wondering if the past had briefly brushed against the present. But then again, anyone else could have owned the same perfume. Maybe you are just overthinking.

"Hey crush, can I enter?" Jimin chuckles while making his way to you.

"Hmm, sure, min." you hum as he sits beside you. "So... what's this rare occurrence about? Don't you fuck yourself at this hour, Mr Perfect Sculptured Body?" you giggle.

"Nah, already did that. Just came to check on you today. You must be so tired...did you sleep well last night?" he asked with concern.

"Woke up a hangover, that's all. How was your day, Minnie? You must be extremely exhausted as well. Why don't you sleep early today? It will help you for tomorrow's journey... I heard you've still got some things to do tomorrow. Heard it from the gossip gang." you state.

"Yeah, I should. Take care, Y/N, goodnight. You only heard that from the gossip gang, right?" he asked you cautiously as he earned a hum from you.

At least he was relieved that you weren't aware of anything else circulating in the boardroom. While not everyone knew about your ex's presence, the fear of potential leaks regarding the boardroom matters, especially Mr. Jeon's unexpected appearance, still lingered in the air.

"Goodnight."

"Night."

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"Hyung-ah, are you proud of me? I'm officially the CEO of JKH MedTech. That bastard definitely poured and sucked my whole energy today...he wanted a billion! Thank god I managed to negotiate! Anyway, I really don't know if I'm hallucinating or being delusional because I felt her presence today, her scent. My brain's kind of fucked now." Jungkook explained his day to his elder brother, Seokjin.

"Yeah, Kookie, I'm very proud of you...we all are. Jungkook-ah, listen to me, that perfume scent isn't just for her... she isn't the only one wearing it. It could be anyone using it. Please calm down, kook... I don't need you to be in this state. You are officially the CEO of JKH MedTech, soon to be JJK MedTech. You need to be focused and keep your priorities straight. I hope you understood my message." He says, earning a hum from his younger brother.

"Alright, Hyung. I feel like a complete idiot, don't I? Anyhow, I need you to come to my office tomorrow to transfer rights. I trust you completely to handle JJK MedTech. You've been the vice president for far too long; it's about time you take the reins as CEO." Jungkook explains to his elder brother that he can't retain the CEO position for 2 whole establishments. Therefore, Seokjin has been appointed to operate the main centre while Jungkook directs the newly bought/merged JKH MedTech.

As the night falls, Jungkook returns to the solace of his home, seeking comfort in the familiar. The soft glow of city lights casts an ethereal atmosphere. As he opens his sketchbook, the pages unfold an illustrated description of your relationship. His sketches capture joyous moments, frustration, and the undeniable chemistry that defines your connection. The inked lines on paper convey a tale of two souls entangled, steering the highs and lows of love.

Making his way to the window, Jungkook reflects on the city lights below. In the quiet moments, he confronts the ghost of arguments past, accepting the lessons learned and the maturation that emerged from the friction between you.

Morning arrives, bringing a fresh start for both Jungkook and you. Jungkook wakes up to the gentle sunlight filtering through his curtain. Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, you are already outfitted and glad to embark on a fresh day. The rhythmic buzz of the city's morning rush escorts you as you steer through congested streets and busy intersections. The scent of street vendors' offerings mingles with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from nearby cafes, defining the city's morning rhythm.

As Jungkook prepares for his last day as a CEO at JJK MedTech, he prepares important documents to finalize the rights over JKH MedTech. Despite feeling saddened by the prospect of leaving the company – his own empire that he mightily built – Jungkook willingly embraces this decision, recognizing the necessity of this new chapter in his professional journey. He believes his role at JKH MedTech will be crucial in producing high-quality service and medical innovations.

"Kookie, you wanted to see me?" says the vice-president, Seokjin also known as his older brother.

"Yes, Hyung, I wanted to say a few things to you privately. How do I start? Your leadership has been a guiding force, shaping the company's success and also my own growth. Your wisdom, dedication, and genuine care for the team have left a memorable mark. I want to personally thank you for being more than a mentor and a brother. Your support has been unwavering, and I am grateful for the opportunities and insights you've shared. The trust you've placed in me has been a driving force in my journey here. I am no good when it comes to these types of talks but I hope you felt the sincerity conveyed." he says to his brother who is tearing up at his warm words.

"Thank you, Kookie. I appreciate your words. I adore you." says Seokjin while yanking his younger brother into a brotherly hug as Jungkook chuckles amusingly at his older brother's immature behaviour.

"Should we announce this news to the faculty now? Oh yeah, we have a farewell party at 5 tonight as well. Make sure to come with Jennie." Jungkook states.

While waiting for time to pass, Jungkook spends his hours wisely wrapping his desk items and cleaning the office. He silently chuckles at the picture of him and his brother at an amusement park that has always been placed on his desk. Little Jungkook was enthusiastic about roller coasters. Meanwhile, his elder brother was always screaming and hated roller coasters.

"What a stupid guy...he and Hobi Hyung are the same," he mumbled.

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NEWS-PRESS 📰

MR. JEON, CEO OF JJK MEDTECH ANNOUNCED AS JKH MEDTECH NEW CEO.

JJK MEDTECH & JKH MEDTECH TO MERGE?

JKH MEDTECH BOUGHT OVER JJK MEDTECH BAGGING A 900 MILLION DOLLAR DEAL.

$900 MILLION SPENT TO TAKE OVER JKH MEDTECH

IS JKH MEDTECH SOON TO BE KNOWN AS JJK MEDTECH 2?

MR JEON LEAVES JJK MEDTECH EMPIRE AS CEO AS MR KIM TAKES OVER.

MR JEON: NEW CEO OF JKH MEDTECH.

WHAT IS THE FUTURE OF JKH MEDTECH AND JJK MEDTECH?

STOCKS RISE AS MR JEON RISES AS JKH MEDTECH'S NEW CEO.

"Are these headlines good enough, Mr Jeon?" asks the editor

"Good enough to me. Remember to release the covers and copies tomorrow." Jungkook states

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"Ladies and gentlemen,

Today, as I stand before you with a charming mix of reflection and anticipation, I bid farewell to an extraordinary chapter of my journey. It's been a delight to share laughter, challenges, and triumphs with this exceptional community.

But before I dive into my farewell, let me extend my heartiest congratulations to someone who is not just a colleague but also my brother, Seokjin. With his charisma, wisdom, and a dash of undeniable charm, he's stepping into the CEO role with finesse. I have full confidence that under his leadership, our company is set to reach new heights. To my incredible colleagues and friends, thank you for being the heartbeat of this organization. Your passion and dedication have made this journey truly special. The camaraderie we've built is something I'll carry with me always.

As I venture into the next chapter, the excitement is palpable, and the gratitude is immense. The friendships formed here are not easily forgotten, and for that, I am truly thankful. To our clients, partners, and stakeholders, your trust and collaboration have been the driving force behind our collective success. In the spirit of gratitude, I extend my deepest appreciation to this remarkable team. Each of you has added a unique spark to this journey, and I am genuinely thankful for the shared moments.

So, as I say my farewells, let's carry the spirit of companionship and excellence forward. May your paths be paved with success and fulfilment.

Cheers, and let the good times roll!" Jungkook says with a charming smile.

He feels sad to leave the empire he has built on his by blood, sweat and tears for the past 6 years. Yet, within the corridors he departs, the indelible imprint of his journey remains – a lasting legacy in the company he nurtured into an empire.

"It's been a pleasure working with you, Mr Jeon. Till our paths align again," says Mrs Jung, his senior staff. "I hope you achieve the same success with JKH. I'm sure the faculty there will be delighted to have you as their boss. You are definitely a great person, inside and out. Don't be too harsh on yourself, okay? If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."

"Thank you, Hyunie. Your dedication to building this empire will always be etched in my memory. It's been an incredible journey, and your efforts have played a key role in our success." he says, earning a hug from his elder staff.

Amid the farewell, Jungkook finds himself surrounded by familiar faces, each representing a unique contribution to the success of the company. There are moments of laughter, heartfelt embraces, and even a few impromptu speeches from colleagues expressing their gratitude for Jungkook's leadership.

As the night progresses, the atmosphere shifts between nostalgia and anticipation. Jungkook navigates through the crowd, taking the opportunity to personally thank key team members, share a few more stories, and create lasting memories on this unforgettable night of transition. The air is filled with a combination of celebration, reflection, and the undeniable excitement of what's to come.

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As the new day sets, you prepare to bid your boss goodbye and welcome your new one. As a symbol of appreciation for your boss, Mr Daehyun, the faculty and upper management decided to hold a farewell party for him. Same as Jungkook's case. It's a bittersweet feeling for you, especially. Daehyun has always treated you as his child, guided you when you first joined the company and stood up for you during hard times. You feel sad, particularly today, not only because this company has lost a piece of it but also because you are uncertain about future organizations and the new CEO's way of dealing with issues.

Nevertheless, you divert your overthinking mind to something to look forward to, the party. You are enthusiastic about the party as it hasn't been quite a while since the organisation arranged an event involving good food and liquors.

You chose a stylish yet relaxed getup that struck the right balance between professionalism and comfort. You wore a chic, ankle-length jumpsuit in a muted shade of burgundy, giving off an effortlessly sophisticated vibe. The jumpsuit featured a cinched waist, providing a flattering silhouette. You also paired the jumpsuit with fashionable ankle boots in a matching colour, adding a touch of trendiness to the outfit. You swept your hair into a loose, low bun, adding an element of laid-back elegance. A light coat of makeup accentuates your features, allowing natural beauty to shine through your face. In fact, you aren't that big of a makeup fan...that's why you always opt for simplicity.

"Wow, Y/N, you look... stunning," Jimin says as he is stunned at your look, simple yet elegant.

"Well, you aren't that bad either, you know? That black blazer looks very good on you," you say as you fix his tie that was placed crookedly.

"Do spare me a dance tonight, amour," he says as he brings your left hand to kiss it.

Hearing Jimin's words, a wave of warmth washed over you, a bittersweet reminder of times past. It was a peculiar sensation—comforting yet tinged with a hint of nostalgia. Jimin, with his knack for saying just the right thing, had unintentionally evoked memories of Jungkook.

It was how the words were delivered, perhaps—a certain sincerity, a depth you hadn't realized you associated so closely with your ex. These memories... long tucked away, surfaced softly, painting your thoughts with shades of what used to be. It was a gentle reminder of the connection you once shared with Jungkook.

"Sure, Minnie."

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"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a moment. As we gather here today, I find myself reflecting on the incredible journey we've embarked on together. It's not every day that one gets to address such a talented and dedicated group of individuals at their own farewell party. From my very first day at this company, I knew I was part of something special. Your commitment, creativity, and passion have not only propelled our projects to new heights but have also made me a better leader and, more importantly, a better person.

I want to extend a special thanks to our heads of departments, including the remarkable Y/N. Your leadership, expertise, and unwavering support have been the backbone of our success. It is your vision and dedication that have steered this company through challenges and towards our achievements. Each of you has played a pivotal role in shaping the culture and future of our organization, and for that, I am eternally grateful. As I step down from my role, I do so with a heavy heart but also with immense pride. Pride in what we've achieved together and excitement for what the future holds for each and every one of you under new leadership. Change brings new challenges but also new opportunities, and I have no doubt that this team, guided by the strong leadership of our department heads, will continue to excel and innovate in ways we can only imagine.

To everyone, thank you for your support, your hard work, and the countless memories we've created. It's been an honour to lead such an exceptional team, and I leave knowing that the legacy we've built together is in capable hands. Remember, the end of one chapter marks the beginning of another. Let's embrace this transition with optimism and continue to support each other as we move forward. To conclude, I'm not just saying goodbye; I'm saying thank you. Thank you for the laughter, the late nights, the successes, and even the setbacks, for they have all contributed to the extraordinary tapestry of our time together. As I embark on this new chapter of my life, I carry with me the lessons learned and the friendships forged here. I look forward to seeing all the incredible places you will go and the remarkable things you will do.

Here's to new beginnings, to the future, and to all of you, especially our heads of departments who have shown such remarkable leadership and commitment. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Cheers!" says Mr Daehyun

"Cheers! We will miss you, Dae," you say

As the party progresses, you and your best friend, Daisy, stick to each other, finding comfort in each other's presence. You both catch up regarding personal life and management gossip. You hum at her yapping for the past hour, constantly spilling information and 'tea'. You love her so much. She's the sincerest friend you ever had- you treasure her. Partly also because she's straight-up frank and has an unfiltered sass.

"This new boss... I've no clue about his name. He never mentions his name! All what I know is that his name is Mr. Jeon... nothing else. It's fucking weird! But he's definitely drop-dead gorgeous his body... oh my goodness!"

"Mr Jeon?" you say, partly shocked. Your voice carries a mix of surprise and disbelief, echoing slightly in the crowded room as you address the familiar name. Internally, you battle with a rush of memories and emotions, the name 'Mr Jeon' acts as a stimulus that brings your past vividly to the forefront of your mind. The logical part of you attempts to downplay the significance, reminding yourself that 'Jeon' is not an uncommon surname. It could be a coincidence, another person entirely unrelated to your past. Yet, the small, hopeful, or perhaps apprehensive part of you can't help but wonder if fate has decided to weave your paths together once more.

You don't know anything about him. You've blocked him everywhere for the past 6 years. You've got no clue about him... at all. You don't know what he's up to, you don't know what he works as, you don't know if he has managed to chase his dream, you don't know.

"Care to join me on the dance floor?" says Jimin as he shakes you out of your thoughts

"Yes... of course, Min."

As the evening unfolds into a lively affair, Jimin extends his hand towards you, a silent invitation to join him on the dance floor. With a mixture of excitement and slight nervousness, you accept, placing your hand in his. The music, a gentle yet upbeat melody, sets a perfect backdrop for this moment. You find yourself caught up in the joy of the moment, your steps syncing with his as if you've done this a thousand times before. Around you, the party continues, but in this bubble of space on the dance floor, it's just you and Jimin sharing laughs and steps, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten.

"Thanks for the dance, Minie, I loved it."

"No worries, Y/N, enjoy this night to your fullest, okay? The future's never certain. I'm always here for you if you need anything."

In Jimin's words, he's subtly hinting about your ex, whose presence is soon to be inevitable.

Actually...Mr Daehyun invited Jungkook to the party to introduce himself and get a golden opportunity to observe and engage with the team in a less formal setting, allowing him to estimate the dynamics and morale of the workforce he would soon direct. But Jungkook kindly declined his offer as he wanted the company to enjoy their last day with their old boss instead of seizing the limelight instantly.

"Yeah, Minnie, I appreciate it."

While you were enjoying the party, Jungkook, on the other hand, was preparing for his upcoming arrival at JKH tomorrow. He meticulously reviewed the resumes of the upper management, containing directors and heads of departments – a list that prominently featured your name.

.

.

As you and Daisy make your way into the lobby, the air crackles with suspense. The receptionist informs you both about the day's crucial agenda, highlighting a morning brief and an introduction session by the new CEO, Mr. Jeon. The mere mention of the new CEO sends a wave of curiosity and speculation through the employees gathered in the lobby.

"I wonder what is the new boss up to today..."

"Same, don't know shit about him though fuck man, I would salivate at the sight of his body."

"Shut the fuck up, seriously! This is not the moment for your fangirling, especially when it's about your boss!" you say, earning a chuckle from Daisy.

As you make your way up to the 52nd floor, you're instantly informed of a meeting with the CEO at his office along with the upper management. This action was unexpected, to say the least. What is his plans? What does he want? Not that you are afraid of questions, you've always aced them - it's just the anxiousness building in the pit your stomach. You hope you're able to produce a good first impression.

While waiting for the meeting, you run a few tests in the lab alongside your more senior Pharmacovigilance Specialists to check the effectiveness of the latest drug and compile information on the volunteer's medical reports- to check their history before they can proceed with the new tests. The hum of the lab equipment accompanied your concentration as you delved into the intricate world of medical research.

As Jungkook gracefully entered the office, he responded to each greeting with a generous smile, exuding an air of professionalism that effortlessly commanded attention. His presence created an atmosphere tinged with both intrigue and respect. The unspoken acknowledgment of the attention he was given only added to the riddle surrounding the new leader at JKH Tech.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon. I'm Jimin, your second assistant. I will be helping you today since the first assistant is on medical leave. Please let me know if you require any help or inquiries. As for today, we have no plans, only the briefing with the upper management as you requested." says Jimin with a welcoming smile

"Morning, Jimin. Thanks for the help. Um... could you help me in the office? I need to flip through the faculty profile and projects before I continue with the meeting. Please send an email to everyone stating that there will be a welcome dinner at 6 later. Formal attire."

"Sure, Sir."

As Jimin and Jungkook delved into discussions about ongoing projects and faculty profiles, the air in the room crackled with a blend of professionalism and the anticipation of getting to know each other. Jimin, fluent and well-versed in the daintiness of the projects, presented detailed information with a hint of pride in his contributions.

Jungkook listened attentively, absorbing the information and forming impressions of Jimin's expertise. The subtle undercurrents of their professional relationship were still in the early stages, with each project update serving as a stepping stone for a potential connection.

"I must say, you've got a brilliant way of explaining things, Jimin. The projects seem good so far. Could you tell me about any success stories within the team? Are there instances where someone played a pivotal role in achieving a milestone?"

"Sure, though there are quite a few of them, I'll share the recent one. Our most significant breakthrough was with Miss Y/N, the head of immunology/microbiology. Y/N played a pivotal role in a groundbreaking project where we explored innovative approaches to enhance the body's immune response. Her sharp insights and strategic thinking paved the way for the development of a novel immunomodulatory drug currently in the advanced stages of clinical trials. This experimental medicine, tentatively named Immunovita-K, holds great promise in revolutionizing the field. Immunovita-K aims to modulate the immune system with precision, offering targeted responses to various pathogens. The potential applications extend from bolstering vaccine responses to exploring novel therapies for autoimmune disorders and infectious diseases." says Jimin with a proud face

As Jungkook spoke, his eyes lingered on the project details, but the mention of Y/N added a layer of sentiment to his words. "Miss Y/N's contributions are truly commendable," he repeated, a touch of pride evident in his voice. "Immunovita-K seems to hold immense potential, and the dedication of our head of department is evident in the success of this project."

A flicker of nostalgia passed through Jungkook's gaze, memories of shared moments playing like a muted film in the background of his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he continued, "It's clear that Y/N's expertise has played a pivotal role in steering our team towards success. I'm eager to see how Immunovita-K unfolds in the upcoming stages of the clinical trials."

"Her dedication to Immunovita-K has been exceptional, and the team is thrilled to have her leadership. If you'd like me to discuss any specific aspects or details with her, please let me know."

For Y/N, who continued her work in the lab, the boardroom discussions remained distant, yet the threads connecting her to the unfolding events tightened with each passing beat.

Your lab work comes to a halt as you are reminded of a meeting from your phone alarm, clearly stating a new event in your schedule. In that brief moment of transition, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the impending encounter. What is even making you this nervous? You've never experienced anything like this before.

"Hey, let's go, it's time."

"Let's go, Daisy. Let's see if the boss is really as hot as you described him to be," you chuckle.

You're grateful to have Daisy and Jimin with you, actually. They stand by your side as colleagues and as pillars of support in your journey.

"Oh boy, you'll see."

"Daisy, I think you really need to shut the fuck up, especially during a meeting, okay? Y/N, how do you even bear with her? Fucking loud-mouth!" Jimin says frustratingly, earning a glare from Daisy.

"Both of you, behave!"

"Ok, mom." X2

.

.

As the anticipation builds in the meeting room on the 47th floor, you find yourself scuffling with an unexpected tide of anxiety, a feeling you can't quite identify. Fidgeting with your phone, you reflect on the notes for basic introductions, trying to ground yourself in the familiarity of prepared information.

The atmosphere intensifies as the upper heads start to increase. But it's the arrival of the new CEO that catches you off guard. When Jungkook enters the room, your eyes widen in an unpretentious shock. His presence which was once a distant memory, now stands before you in this moment. The realization hits, sending a jolt through your system, and for a moment, time seems to pause as you process the unexpected reunion.

No, you are not afraid of him.

Navigating this emotive turbulence is an unknown territory for you. It's not anger or sadness that shakes your core, but rather an overwhelming surprise. Crossing paths with someone you once held as a lover has stirred a disruption of emotions within you. You never entertained the thought that you would have to grapple with such sentiments. It's a collision of past and present, a meeting with a version of your history that you thought was neatly tucked away.

Jimin's reassuring smile became a beacon of support. His silent message, a simple "it's okay," resonated across the room, providing you with a comforting assurance that you aren't alone.

Jungkook, on the other hand, remains composed, his stoic expression giving away little. His eyes briefly meet yours, a subtle acknowledgement that seems to carry a weight of unspoken history. Unfazed by the surprise in the room, he takes his seat with an aura of authority.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. I trust this early gathering has piqued your curiosity. Let me assure you, this is not a harbinger of impending trouble. As your new leader, I find it imperative to acquaint myself with the esteemed members of our upper echelons. Effective communication within our ranks is paramount. I invite each of you to present yourselves and provide insights into your respective departments. The floor is yours."

Intrigued, you can't help but secretly check him out as he settles in. His more robust and defined physique doesn't escape your eyes. A brief moment of eye contact adds more tension to the room, and you find yourself momentarily captivated by the mysterious aura he exudes.

As introductions unfold, Jungkook's conduct remains cold and businesslike. Yet, beneath that icy exterior, there's a real undercurrent of something more, a subtle shift in the atmosphere. When it's your turn to present, you maintain professionalism, describing your department and highlighting your innovative breakthrough research. This includes your recent development of a novel immunomodulatory drug.

Though Jungkook's expression remains stoic and cold, a burst of pride blooms through his chest, acknowledging his once-lover achievements secretly. If he could, he would've been clapping at your introduction. But he doesn't.

As the meeting progresses, you can't shake the sense of a shared history flowing in the air. Every interaction and exchange carries the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The once-familiar face now wears the mask of a stranger, and the clash between the past and the present adds an extra layer of complexity to the professional setting.

Jungkook's cold and distant approach doesn't go unnoticed, leaving you to grapple with a mix of confusion, curiosity, and a subtle undercurrent of unresolved feelings. The meeting becomes a battleground of emotions, each word and gesture a silent echo of a shared history that neither of you is ready to confront.

"Thank you all for your insightful introductions. I am truly impressed by the display of leadership and the remarkable breakthroughs within your respective departments. It's my pleasure to announce that we have a welcome party scheduled for tonight at 7, generously sponsored by me. Attendance is mandatory, and I look forward to further interactions and collaborations among the faculty. You are all dismissed." he says, ending the once-was, nerve-wracking meeting.

As the meeting wraps up, the air in the room crackles with unspoken tension, and you find yourself eager to escape the confined space. The reunion with Jungkook, unexpected and emotionally charged, leaves you yearning for a moment of solitude to process the whirlwind of emotions that now defines your professional landscape.

As you step out of the meeting room, your eyes intrinsically meet Jungkook's. At that moment, a whirlwind of unspoken emotions seems to pass between you two. The air crackles with tension as the weight of the past collides with the present, leaving you both suspended in a moment that holds more than words can convey.

.

.

"You knew?" you asked Jimin

"Y/N, I didn't know who he was until I recognized his face from your old pictures. I did not want to ruin your mood, and neither did I want to interfere between both of you. You both are old enough to be mature, to talk and to deal with things. I know it hurts. I know you both shared history, but you've got to deal with it now. He is your boss. You are going to see him very often, and by that, I mean for five fucking days per week! You can't just give up like that, you know?"

He acknowledges the complexity of the situation, emphasizing that he doesn't want to shatter your peace by revealing Jungkook's identity right away. His words underscore the reality of the professional dynamic you now share with your ex-lover, urging you to confront the inevitable and find a way to navigate this new chapter in your life.

"How, Jimin, how?" you sob,

Deep beneath your heart, the currents of conflicting emotions swirled. The unexpected encounter with Jungkook, now your boss, sent ripples across the surface of your composed exterior. Unresolved feelings, memories, and the stark reality of having to navigate a professional relationship with your past lover created a turbulent undercurrent within you.

You gasp.

"He already knew about me, didn't he? Was that why he wasn't surprised at the sight of me? For fucks sake!"

"Hey peeps soo-"

"What happened, Y/N? You good?"

"Yeah, I am. Don't worry!"

"She's fine, Daisy." Jimin chimed in, shooting you a reassuring glance.

You kept your emotions in check, not revealing the details of your past with Jungkook. Daisy, unaware of the complexities, carried on with her usual enthusiasm, avoiding any probing questions.

"Yow bitch, you ready? Let's get wasted tonight!!"

"My goodness, Daisy!"

"Let's get wasted tonight, people!" you chuckle

You've reflected. You've thought about this situation multiple times today and decided to let things go with the flow. It might be rough to see your ex's face daily for 5 days in a row but you've told yourself you'd get used to it. It's been six years, and both of you have matured. The old memories resurface in the present, and there's no way to push them back.

Yeah, he totally broke your heart. You've broken his heart too.

You were manipulated, he was... everything was. The only thing you didn't know was the truth.

He found out, eventually.

"Alright, let's capture this moment," you say with a smile, bringing Jimin and Daisy into a friendly embrace. The camera captures the trio, frozen in a snapshot of companionship. Jimin flashes his signature grin, and Daisy, always the lively one, throws a peace sign.

As the shutter clicks, you feel a mix of emotions. The impending encounter with Jungkook lingers in your mind, but for now, you choose to focus on the present, cherishing the bonds you share with your friends. The photograph becomes a tangible memento, a reminder of a day filled with laughter, shared stories, and the warmth of companionship.

You decide to make a bold yet elegant statement for the formal party hosted by Jungkook. Choosing a floor-length gown, the dress hugs your curves in all the right places, showcasing your silhouette. The rich, midnight blue fabric is adorned with subtle sequins that catch the light, adding a touch of glamour to the ensemble.

The gown features a daring thigh-high slit, revealing a glimpse of your toned leg with every step. The back is open, adorned with delicate crisscross straps that add an alluring detail. The neckline is a modest V-shape, offering a sophisticated balance to the sultry elements of the dress.

Completing the look with a pair of strappy heels that accentuate the length of your legs, you opt for minimal accessories to let the dress take centre stage. A sleek updo and a hint of smoky eyeshadow add a touch of allure to your overall appearance.

As you enter the party, heads turn, and whispers of admiration follow you. The dress, with its combination of elegance and sensuality, ensures you stand out in the crowd, making a lasting impression on the attendees, including the mysterious CEO himself, Jungkook.

He was allured by your aura. Your thigh-high slit, open back, and V-shape neckline left him momentarily breathless. Jungkook, usually composed, felt a subtle warmth as he observed your confident entrance, appreciating the sophisticated yet attractive choice that seemed to enhance your natural magnetism.

As you entered the venue, your eyes instinctively scanned the room, landing on Jungkook, who was already present. Clad in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and sculpted physique, the crisp lines accentuated every contour. The jacket was left slightly unbuttoned, offering a glimpse of his chiselled chest and well-defined abs.

"Managed to get the CEO's eyes on you, huh?"

"Daisy, it's nothing. I don't even find him attractive."

"Ok, liar!!"

"Shut up bitch, let's go find some fancy booze here," you say, earning an enthusiastic "lesgooo" from your best friend.

You were lying, actually. His magnetic aura captured your attention. He's changed but still is the same in so many ways.

"Omg, this champagne is so good! What brand is this man? I need to get this," Daisy says, half-drunk.

"Ask the bartender, asshole."

"Ouch, that hurt. Could you be kind to me for a day, at least?" Daisy says with a pout

"Screw y-"

Jungkook raised his glass, the gentle clinking sound echoing through the room, signalling the attention of the attendees, including you. The ambient chatter gradually subsided as all eyes turned toward the newly appointed CEO. The room fell into a hushed anticipation, awaiting Jungkook's words.

"Good evening, everyone. I want to express my sincere gratitude for joining us tonight to celebrate not only the success of our organization but also the incredible individuals who contribute to its growth. As we embark on this new chapter, I am thrilled to lead a team of exceptional talents."

Jungkook's speech was a blend of confidence, capturing the essence of the moment. His eyes scanned the room, occasionally locking with yours, perhaps a subtle acknowledgement of the intertwined past.

"To the future and the limitless possibilities it holds. Cheers!" Jungkook concluded, raising his glass higher, and the room erupted into applause, toasting to the endeavours that lay ahead.

As Jungkook gracefully moved through the crowd, engaging in conversations with each employee, you couldn't help but observe his interactions. His charm seemed effortless, a blend of charisma and authority that captivated those around him. You maintained a watchful eye, observing the way he navigated through the room, occasionally catching glimpses of familiar smiles and nods.

"OH MY GOODNESS, HOTTIE BOSS INCOMINGG"

As you looked behind, you noticed Jungkook making his way to your group of friends, one of the last few left. Jungkook's gaze met yours as he neared, and there was a subtle acknowledgement that passed between you. You braced yourself for the encounter.

You've got to admit he's quite a charm... you've been observing his actions and behaviour since ever and least to say, you're impressed with his social skills.

"Hello, gorgeous ladies! May I introduce myself a little?" he said, earning a chuckle from your friends.

He extended a hand for a handshake, greeting each of your friends.

"I'm Jungkook, what's your name?"

"Daisy. Research Department!"

"Lovely!"

"Serena Woo. Clinical research associate."

"Nice!"

And when he reached you, he smiled, "Y/N, it's been a while."

You felt a shiver down your spine as he uttered your name. A mixture of nostalgia and apprehension clouded the air. Jungkook continued, "I hope you're enjoying the party. It's good to see you again."

You managed a polite smile, "Likewise. Congratulations on becoming the CEO."

He nodded, "Thank you. It's been a journey. We should catch up sometime."

The conversation lingered, an undercurrent of unspoken history swirling beneath the surface.

Jungkook shifted his attention to your friends, smoothly blending into the ongoing conversations. As he engaged with each person, you couldn't help but watch the charisma he effortlessly exuded. Memories flashed before your eyes, of a time when his charm was directed solely at you.

Despite the festive atmosphere, an unspoken tension lingered. You grappled with conflicting emotions—curiosity, awkwardness, and a hint of longing. Jungkook's presence stirred a complex mix of feelings, and you wondered how this unexpected reunion would reshape the dynamics of your professional life.

Daisy, with a playful glint in her eye, decided to try her luck with Jungkook.

Daisy: "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber. What do you say, Mr. Jeon?"

Jungkook, maintaining his composure, responded with a small smile: "Well, that's a unique one. I appreciate the creativity."

You caught between amusement and mild discomfort, couldn't help but chuckle at Daisy's bold attempt. The interaction added a light-hearted touch to the evening, momentarily diffusing the underlying tension.

As your laughter reached his ears, Jungkook couldn't help but notice a subtle shift in the atmosphere. A genuine smile played on his lips, and to your surprise, a pair of dimples made a fleeting appearance on his cheeks. It was a subtle detail. In that instant, you couldn't help but feel a peculiar sense of intimacy, as if his dimples whispered a silent acknowledgement of the shared history between you.

"Hey, y'all! How's it going? Hello, Jungkook, glad to see you here!" Jimin chimes in

"Good Minnie, just chugging on fancy booze." you chuckle as you lean into Jimin's embrace.

Jimin laughs along with you, enjoying the light banter. "Well, if it's fancy booze, count me in!" he playfully declares, raising his glass in a toast.

Jungkook, with his characteristic stoicism, joins the conversation. "It's a lively atmosphere tonight. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves."

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. "Yeah, Jungkook, you've thrown quite the party. It's nice to see everyone in a more relaxed setting."

Jungkook's gaze momentarily lingers on you, his expression unreadable. "Glad you think so. I wanted everyone to unwind a bit."

You're shocked, to be honest. You never expected Jungkook to act the way he is right now. After what happened between you two, you swore you'd never talk to him again. Yet, fate reunites you in a tricky situation where even seeing him is inevitable. Expecting a cold and detached encounter, you contemplate whether age has genuinely brought about maturity or if his professionalism is merely a shield for the shared history between you two.

"You cool?"

"Yeah, I guess so. He's different. Totally different now. He's so mature now... I never saw this side of him. We had a fucking disastrous relationship... obviously, I wasn't there to see him grow and develop to be a successful man." you say

"You've got this babe. I got your back."

"Oh yeah, Jiminah, could you not tell Daisy anything about us? I just don't want to make things awkward, you know?"

As the party nears its end, you all decided to call it a night.

"Goodnight, everyone. It was a pleasure meeting you all," Jungkook says with a polite nod.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jeon," your friends chime in.

As Jungkook turns to leave, he looks directly at you, his gaze lingering for a moment. "Goodnight, Y/N. Take care," he adds, his tone carrying a subtle weight, leaving you with a mix of emotions and unspoken thoughts.

As you, Jimin and Daisy make your way out, Jimin whispers, "That was something, huh?"

You nod, the encounter with Jungkook still fresh in your mind. "Yeah, unexpected."

Daisy interjects, "Well, it's just the beginning of many encounters with the new CEO. Get used to it, Y/N! He's so fucking hot man, take it allllllllllll-" She laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

.

.

In the quiet solitude of your room, you found yourself grappling with an indescribable feeling. It was as if the encounter with Jungkook had reignited a spark within you that you thought had long been extinguished. Instead of the anticipated anger or sadness, there was an unexpected warmth spreading through your chest.

You pondered over this sensation, questioning why the presence of your ex-lover, now the CEO, had this peculiar effect on you. It was as if the past, present, and future were colliding in a way you couldn't articulate. The once-familiar emotions that you had locked away seemed to be resurfacing, bringing with them a mix of nostalgia and an unspoken yearning.

The memory of his built frame, those broad shoulders and defined muscles, played on a loop in your mind. The subtle tension in his jawline, the way his suit clung to him, highlighting the contours of his body – it was impossible to dismiss the striking change from the boy you once knew to the commanding man he had become.

Despite the mixed emotions and the undeniable history between you two, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the physical presence that still resonated between you. The encounter had stirred not only memories but also a heightened awareness of the person Jungkook had evolved into – a man whose formidable presence demanded attention, leaving an imprint that you couldn't easily shake off.

As you lay in the quiet darkness, you wondered if this was a mere reaction to the unexpected reunion or if there was something more profound at play. The spark, however indescribable, left you with a sense of anticipation, a feeling that hinted at the possibility of uncharted territories in the days to come.

"Yow, bad bitch, what are you thinking about?"

"Jimin, I-"

"Jimin, I feel... something I haven't felt in so long."

and, suddenly, her spark reignited.

a/n: Oh my goodness! It's finally out!! Thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this to come out, I appreciate it. I wanted y'all to have the best version <3 I didn't find/stick with the characters I had in my mind a year ago and I felt we needed a much more mature version of the MCs and I'm happy to say that I'm very pleased with this outcome! Love yall!

please like and share to support! + comment to be added to the taglist

[billlydear]

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART THREE | FINAL PART) | PART ONE | PART TWO

word count: 9492 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: mentions of injuries (healed/healing), trauma, discussions of billy's past, angst with a fluffy ending, cows !

A/N: oh my gosh ! the end ! it feels like i've been working on this forever and thinking about it even longer, and as a new-ish writer on the billy scene, i just want to thank you all for how sweet you've been, in response to this fic and many others. your support is so important to me, and i'm so glad that many of you enjoyed this fic. i hope that you like the ending, too, please tell me what you think!

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

You wake up beside Billy Hargrove differently than you’d fallen asleep beside him. Where his face had been previously tucked snug to your neck, his breath fanning out over your collarbones, his cheek is smushed to your chest now. His arm is slung over your stomach, one of his legs thrown over your own as his torso lays slumped up against yours. His cheek chubs up where it’s resting on your breast, and- god, his eyelashes are beautiful. The eyes behind them are just as gorgeous, but for now you’re glad they’re shut. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful, and you’d stay still for an eternity beneath him if it meant he’d be able to stay in that drowsy state of serenity. 

His curls are mussed with sleep, bent out of shape and frizzy where they’d typically be slicked. There’s still bruises littered over his face but they’ve already begun healing, shifting in color to be lighter and less jarring. 

Your fingers come up without you noticing to brush over one of his curls. It’s soft to the touch, and you give it an experimental squeeze, watching as it bounces back. You notice that it’s tangled slightly with another strand, and brush your pinky between them to separate the tangle.

It must tug lightly on Billy’s scalp, because he heaves an unconscious sigh. You wait for him to frown, to wake and snap at you for touching his precious hair, but he never does. Instead he settles again, eyes still firmly shut.

You can’t help it; you reach for his scalp. Your nails scrape gently, ever-so-slightly over his skin, brushing over hundreds of individual strands of hair rooted there and curled together. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he moves. He hums, deep, soft, and low in his throat, the sound vibrating in his chest that’s pressed to your side. It sends a shiver up your spine, but it’s quickly quelled with the warmth that comes from his face as he presses it even further into your chest. Now his cheek is practically invisible, buried in your breast and angling his nose to one side. He tightens his arm around your waist, hoisting himself up and over you even further than he’d been before. He reminds you of a cat, purring and leaning into soft touches.

He seems to like it, so you don’t stop. You rove your fingers through every inch of his scalp, scratching and stroking and smoothing through his curls until they’re a mass of individual strands instead of grouped twists. It’s ridiculously soft, and you wonder how you’ve been able to refrain from touching his hair before now.

There’s nothing you’d rather do than stay here for eternity. Holding him, brushing through his hair, loving him. But your bladder has other wishes. 

Wrestling yourself out from under him is difficult, but he accepts a pillow in exchange for your torso. He burrows his face into it just the same, and you can’t help but brush over his curls one last time as you stand over him, tucking the blankets up and around his shoulders.

When he’s securely tucked into your covers and snoozing away, you pad out of your bedroom, thankful that your parents work early shifts.

You seem to have woken up at a perfect time to make a breakfast larger than you normally do. It takes double the time to prepare a meal for the two of you, and you’re thankful that you think to group the eggs together in a pan to cut that extra time down. You’re setting plates at the table, stuffed with eggs, toast, and fresh fruit when Billy emerges from the hallway, staring cautiously at you where he stands.

His hair is haphazardly smoothed, but there’s no fixing the frizz that your fingers had worked out of it. Your clothes look good on him, even if the sweatpants are stretched over his upper calves instead of at his ankles from how he’d shifted in his sleep. Your shirt is riding up at his stomach and you politely avoid looking at his toned torso, even if you really want to.

“Breakfast,” You hum, pointing your spatula at the table, “Orange juice or milk?”

“Uh-” He flounders, blinking rapidly, “Water, please. Or- I can get it.”

He makes to step towards the kitchen but you whirl your spatula around to face him, intent on pampering the boy, “No, just go sit down. I can do it.”

He looks properly chided, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ducks to hide it from you.

You set an ice cold glass of water at his place and notice that he’s waited to begin eating until you sat down. You give him the go-ahead, digging into a chunk of egg with your fork.

“Sleep good?” You glance up at him, a questioning glance shot through your lashes. He nods, silent and careful, and you realize that he seems to have closed himself off since last night, and you think that maybe leaving the bed before he woke wasn’t the best idea, even if it was just to make breakfast. You try remedying it by knocking your foot against his under the table, and he nearly chokes on his water. You leave your foot pressed flush to his own, a constant reminder of your touch on his skin.

“Does your stomach still hurt?” You try again, gulping down OJ. 

“A bit,” His morning voice is raspy and you know you’re going to fawn over it later, even if you’re trying hard not to take advantage of his vulnerability.

“It’s mostly a cut up here,” He reaches a hand under his (your) shirt, rubbing at a patch below his left pec. You can see his fingers move under the shirt, and you remember the wound that’s there from last night.

“That probably means your ribs aren’t broken,” You conclude, relief washing over you at the fact that his bruises are just that.

“Nah, not broken,” He shakes his head, stuffing fruit into his mouth and ignoring the way juice drips down his chin, “I know what a broken rib feels like.”

You still, looking up suspiciously at him with your head ducked to your plate. His shoulders slump, “Just some kid from school. He had rings on, and he hit hard.”

“Oh,” You supply lamely, “I’m glad they healed.”

You eat in silence for a few bites, but he doesn’t shy away from your touch beneath the table, and you’re thankful for that. He even shifts his foot to press more against yours, his sock slightly itchy against your skin. Right after he leans into your touch, he speaks.

“My dad doesn’t usually… do this. This was bad, he tries not to leave marks. I think-” He hesitates, and you nudge his foot with your own again, encouraging him, “I think he’d be even more angry if I missed school than whatever he was mad about in the first place. So he has to keep things inconspicuous. And if anyone sees anything I just have to make excuses.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, not out of pity, but sympathy, “I… I really don’t know how you do it. You’re strong, Billy, y’know that?”

He scoffs into his honeydew.

“I mean it,” You press on, “You just… take it. You let him do that to you because if you fight back other people might get hurt, and that takes strength. Even if it feels weak to get beat on, just know you’re saving your stepsister and her mom, and… I’m proud of you.”

He stills for a moment, jaw stiffening in the middle of a chewing motion. He swallows dry, but whatever it is goes down fine, and he clears his throat without meeting your eye.

“He used to hit my mom,” Billy admits, voice now hoarse from emotion rather than sleep. He scrunches his eyes shut momentarily, “I.. I couldn’t stop him. I was too young. And she left. So I guess I just… got bigger. Just in case.”

You recall seeing a set of weights in his living room. You had presumed they were his, but hadn’t bothered to ask among discussions of mitosis. Now, though, you realize he’s bulked himself up to combat his dad’s abuse, even if he uses it to protect others rather than himself.

It spreads a thin layer of mist over your eyes, the thought of preteen Billy experimenting with handheld five-pounders in hopes of blocking a punch. What hits you even harder is his current image, a toned teen who still doesn’t have the heart to hit back.

You can’t figure out how to respond. If you say you’re proud of him again, he might shut down. If you sound like you’re pitying him, he’ll be angry. So instead you reach over the table, your fork clattering to the wood as you take his free hand.

He’s startled by the sudden movement paired with the noise, but he makes up for his momentary flinch by ghosting his thumb softly over the back of your hand. His fingers don’t curl against yours, so it’s not a mutual gesture, you’re just holding his hand. Slowly, surely, his fingers move inch by inch, slipping between your own and settling against your skin.

You wonder if it’s the first time anyone’s ever held his hand.

“Thanks,” He breathes, his breath a huff of cantaloupe scent. He sniffles, hard, aggressively, and you know he doesn’t want you to acknowledge the tear that streaks fast down his cheek. 

You let him wipe it away without saying anything, even though you want to tell him it’s okay. You hope that the way you squeeze his hand tells him that, though, because it’s true. It’s okay for him to cry, and you’re glad that, even if he tries hiding it around you, he feels safe enough to let the tears fall in the first place.

The rest of your breakfast is filled with mindless chatter, a few gossip strands weaving their way through an otherwise pleasant conversation. He learns that Amanda Weaver has been telling everyone he gave her a promise ring, but you’d seen her fish the plain silver band off of her keychain. 

“I don’t even know her,” He snorts, “And promise rings are dumb.”

Your nose wrinkles, “I don’t think so. They’re cute.”

“They’re pointless,” He insists, shoveling egg into his mouth, “Having a ring to chuck in the garbage is gonna hurt a whole lot more when they leave.”

“If.” You murmur.

“Hm?” He glances up at you, mouth full.

“If they leave.” You correct him quietly, “Some people stay.”

He’s frozen. Baby blues unblinking, he stares at you like a deer in headlights. You hold his gaze with your own steady one, waiting until his brain wraps around what you’re really trying to tell him: I’ll stay.

He’s quiet, for a long time. He keeps his eyes on his eggs, roving over every crease and hill in their structure. Then he mumbles so soft you can barely hear it, “Right.”

There’s a thousand things you want to say. A thousand promises you want to make, a thousand reassuring words you want to mumble against his skin so that they’re absorbed. But the not-so-nice blare of your kitchen timer kindly reminds you it’s time to get to school, and you settle for none at all.

“Shit,” You mumble, shoveling your last bite of melon into your mouth and standing, “I’ll get my-!” 

You glance back at him when you feel a tug, and he’s sitting in place, hand still entwined with yours. He’s cautious, frozen, and you melt into a smile, squeezing his hand.

“My bag.” You clarify, “Are we taking the bus, or walking to your place?”

“Let’s walk,” He decides, his hand never letting up in its grip on yours. It’s bold, it’s forward, it’s healing.

“Okay,” You grin, keeping your fingers tightly curled around Billy’s and tugging him up through the shared embrace, “Let’s go! I’ve gotta be on time today, we’re taking a quiz in first period.”

“We don’t have to go in, we can just get my car.” He lets you drag him to the living room, “The only thing I keep in my bag are cigarettes, anyways. I can bum a few.”

“Billy,” You scold, “Where do your papers go?”

“In the trash.”

“Nice,” You scoff, wincing as you step outside and the harsh sunlight hits your eyes. You fumble with your house keys, slipping them into the lock to close up the house, “I’m gonna buy you a binder. And you’re gonna put your school stuff in it, nice and neat, and you’re gonna carry a pencil, and you’re gonna bring water, and you’re gonna-”

“And you’re gonna fall,” He yanks on your hand, pulling you tight to his side as he points at a rock you’d been headed for, “Pay attention, clumsy.”

“Oh.” You flounder, his toned arm against your cheek as you struggle to right yourself, “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” He flashes you a grin you’ve seen before, primarily aimed at his basketball teammates or a girl he’s chatting up. It’s confident, shit-eating, and it sends a wave of butterflies through your stomach.

The walk to his house isn’t terribly long. It’s a trek, for sure, but you’re there in under a half-hour, laughing all the while. Billy’s hand is still firmly gripping yours, and he’s funny, you remember, when he’s not crying.

“Dad’s not home,” He clocks the car missing from the driveway, “I can get mine and go.”

“Get your bag,” You order, face stern and brows scrunched, “And don’t throw away any of your school papers today!”

“No promises, babe,” He teases, his own key in his pocket as he jams it into the door. You’re thankful that he turns away to step inside so that he doesn’t see your eyes widen at the nickname, but you hope your hand doesn’t begin to sweat, or he’ll notice.

“Maxine?” He calls, shouting through the house. There’s no reply, and her sneakers aren’t by the front door, so you presume she’s not home.

“Probably skated,” Billy shrugs, “My bag’s in my room.”

He doesn’t have to drag you there, you know the way. You send a withering glare towards the room at the end of the hall, where you know Billy’s dad sleeps, as if it’ll cast a curse over the doorway and land him seven years of bad luck. You see the fireplace poker on your way, set neatly back in its place. There’s blood on it.

He changes quick, and you occupy yourself with the collection of tapes by his closet. He’d yanked your shirt right off of his head like you weren’t standing there, but when you’d turned with burning cheeks to give him some privacy, he hadn’t said anything.

Billy’s persistence on holding your hand is sweet, but surprising. The last thing you’d have expected from him was a clingy puppy-boy, but his head turns to track you whenever your hand nearly slips out of his own, and he wrestles with his bag one-handed instead of dropping the embrace. You’re just glad he’s finally holding onto something good in his life instead of pushing it away.

You think it’s a massive inconvenience that he can’t drive while holding your hand. He tries, at first, resting them on the center console, but when he changes lanes and almost overshoots it, you pry your hand out of his own.

“Two hands,” You laugh bashfully, “It’s okay, we- uh, later… later we can…”

“Later,” He turns his head to grin at you, a brilliant display as he slaps his now-free hand onto the wheel,  “Later’s good.”

Unfortunately, later gets pushed back a lot. When Billy pulls into the parking lot, the bell rings. He knows you’re going to be late for your quiz, so he doesn’t try to keep you, smiling softly, “Just go. See you in bio.”

Then between classes, you catch a glimpse of him in the hall. Your stomach starts acting up again, butterflies coming in droves, mind reeling with the thought of him grabbing your hand in public. He almost does, eyes widening as he catches sight of you, broad shoulders muscling everyone out of the way. But before he can reach you, a similarly-toned man steps up beside him, a basketball jersey slung over his frame.

He talks, and talks, and talks and talks and talks, all waving arms and loud jeering. Billy tries holding your gaze over his shoulder, nodding mindlessly along to whatever the boy is saying, but the warning bell rings and you send him a soft, defeated smile.

‘Later,’ You mouth, and his eyes dim when he nods.

Your efforts are futile at lunch, too. He has the class period before with a few of his friends, loud and brash, not your style. It means that you occupy your normal seat, a corner of a bench that the group to your left isn’t using, and tug out a book to entertain yourself. You feel his gaze burning against the side of your head, but if you get caught staring at him, his friends will turn it into some wild story about how you’re infatuated with him, and you’re not the type of person that makes that observation a compliment, at least, not to Billy’s friends. You almost hope he stops looking at you, too, because if they catch him staring, you don’t know how they’ll torment you.

It almost kills him to wait until you’re seated together in biology to reach for your hand. You’d never seen him arrive to class earlier than today, he’s even there before you are. He doesn’t bother to hide his staring, icy eyes tracking you from the second you walk through the door to the second you sit beside him.

You’re thankful that you’re officially seated together now, and you’re thinking that maybe you don’t hate group projects as much as you thought you did.

“Hey,” He murmurs, sliding his hand across the back of yours under the desk.

“Hey,” You hum, flipping your hand over to meet his palm-to-palm.

Everything seems right with the world again.

There’s a certain security you get from Billy’s touch, even if he probably gets more from yours. Having someone to hold grounds you, and you hope it does the same for him. It’s strange, feeling such a strong connection to someone you’d only started talking to days before, but you suppose that’s what happens when you remove all of the formalities of friendship. Your first sleepover just happened to be in an effort to keep him alive, not to eat junk food and watch movies.

You try to pay attention to the teacher, you really do. But she’s nowhere near as interesting as the soft scratching of Billy’s pencil on your paper, and you can’t help but watch as he writes.

You need a ride home?

You reach for your own pencil, scrawling your answer and sliding the paper to him in response

I can take the bus. You should take Max, she skated this morning.

He nearly breaks his pencil writing: She’s got tutoring after school today, she skates home anyways.

Okay, You decide, and you see him smile out of the corner of his eye as you write the word, Thanks, Billy.

He squeezes your hand, and he doesn’t need to write ‘You’re welcome’ for you to know it’s what he’s saying.

Biology typically drones on. You try to stay on top of your schoolwork, of course, but that doesn’t mean you enjoy it. The class is suddenly a lot less dreary with Billy beside you, and it becomes a game of stifling giggles. He steps on the toe of your shoe beneath the table, you tug at one of his curls. He crowds your space with his shoulder and nudges you to the edge of your seat, you let go of his hand to pinch at his thigh. He has to stifle a groan at that one, and to do so he thumps his head forwards on his desk, using the cool plastic against his forehead to quell his rugged laughter.

The thunk of his head against the desk alerts your teacher, and you sit up straight, eyes on your paper that’s covered in doodles as you try not to laugh. She scoffs, seeing Billy slumped over the desk, and probably assumes he’s fallen asleep. When she turns away, you elbow him, dipping your head down to where his rests on the desk to whisper in his ear.

“Cut it out,” You hiss, kicking his foot beneath the desk, “She almost saw!”

“Oh no,” He gushes, turning his head so that a sliver of his face shows, glinting with a shit-eating grin, “Do you think we’ll get in trouble?”

“It’s not funny!” You insist, keeping your voice as hushed as possible, “I’ve never been in trouble before, and if I get sent to the principal’s office, I’ll-”

“Y/L/N! Hargrove!” You stiffen at the voice of your teacher, your eyes widening where Billy’s only sparkle with excitement, “You two seem distracted. Anything on your minds?”

“Not mitosis.” Billy quips, straightening up from the desk and leaning back in his chair. He earns a few laughs from his scattered friends, and the teacher’s face hardens. Your stomach drops.

“You think you’re funny? You’re one missed homework assignment from failing this class. And now you’re dragging Y/N into this, too? Both of you, head to the front office. This ends here.”

There are tears burning at your eyes. You’re not the best student in the world. Hell, you’re not even in the top ten. But you’re not a bad one either, at best you slip through the cracks. You’ve never had disciplinary action taken against you, and gathering your things amongst the tense silence of your peers feels like a death sentence. 

Billy barely remembers to get his own bag, and he pointedly leaves his papers scattered over his desk. You scoop them up in your own handful, and he waits diligently by your side as you pick up your things. When you’re finally packed up he snatches your hand from where it’s hanging at your side, marching the both of you to the door.

He offers the teacher a very quaint, very polite middle finger as he drags you out of the door, and that’s what does it. The second the door shuts behind you, you burst into tears.

He looks up, alarmed at the sob you let out. The classroom you’d just exited has a row of windows that your back is facing, and he’s worried that if you turn slightly, your classmates will see you cry. As much as you’d told him it was okay to cry this morning, he��s sure you wouldn’t want your peers witnessing the meltdown you’re having. He acts fast, using your intertwined hands and yanking you into the nearest bathroom.

Your sobs echo off of the tile, and he pulls you haphazardly into his chest. Your head rests there pitifully, shoulders slumped as you cry.

“Jesus, okay,” He pants, peering under the few stalls in the back to make sure you’re alone, “What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know!” You do know, but it feels embarrassing to say it out loud, “I just- I’ve never been in trouble before, and it’s going on my-” You break to quell another sob, tamping it down in your chest, “Permanent record, and-!”

“Okay, calm down.” Billy scoffs, and you’re surprised to find that it’s not a derogatory one, but a fond one, “It’s fine. All we were doing was talking, it’s not like we were smoking weed in the bathroom.”

Your head shoots up and you recognize your surroundings. You glare at him suspiciously, “You don’t have any weed on you, right?”

“No!” He laughs incredulously, “I do not have any weed on me. Now,” He takes your shoulders in his broad hands, and your fingers go cold now that his aren’t intertwined with them anymore.

“You and I are gonna calm down,” He tells you, voice slow and steady. You’re the only one that needs to calm down, but you appreciate his cooperation.

“Then we’re gonna leave this bathroom, and do you know where we’re gonna go?”

“The front office,” You recite, but he breaks into a grin, shaking his head so that his curls fly.

“But that’s where she told us-”

“She can suck my dick.” Billy scoffs, “She made you cry. Forget her.”

“Billy, I can’t just forget her,” You insist, eyes wide and teary, “She’s our teacher!”

“Today’s Friday,” He reminds you, “She’s not our teacher again until Monday.”

“Fine. Where are we really going?” You look at him skeptically, raising your hand to wipe your nose against its back.

“Okay, first, ew.” Billy wrinkles his nose, yanking your hand away from your face and wiping it with a paper towel that he jerks out of the machine. He wipes your nose next, but he does it aggressively, smearing the paper towel against your face and pushing your head back until you’re laughing, trying to swat him away. The sound makes him smile, and it doesn’t fade as he continues talking.

“We’re gonna go see a movie,” He decides, hiking the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. Your face darkens slightly, goofy grin dimming.

“We can’t.” You protest softly, “She told us to go to the front office. You said it yourself, Billy, we were just talking. But if we ditch, we’ll be in more trouble, real trouble.”

“I’m always in trouble,” He huffs, “And you’re never in trouble. You really think this’ll be a breaking point for either of us?”

“What’s gonna happen when we don’t show up to the office?”

“They’ll give us detention.”

“We have to go, then!” Your eyes go wide, and you start for the door. He lunges for your hand, grabbing it just before you can push your way out, and this time he doesn’t drop it when he pulls you back inside.

“Detention means we’ll get to sit together for two hours and mess around.”

“No we can’t,” You scoff, “They monitor you. So we can’t just mess around.”

“Hey.” He snaps, begging your attention with those icy blue eyes of his, “Have you ever been in detention before?”

“No.” You admit quietly.

“Right. I have. They don’t care. They don’t want to be there, and they know we don’t either. They’re not gonna punish us any further, ‘cause then they’d just have to sit there with us for longer. Trust me, this will be fun.”

“Fun,” You groan, slumping forwards into his chest rather than covering your face with your hands. It’s a bold move, but a well-received one, and you feel his firm chest shake as he chuckles.

“Yes, fun.” He promises, “But if you really wanna walk up to that office and get lectured…”

“Billy,” You bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your head up so that your chin rests against his chest, “I.. I do. I’m sorry, I know you want to have fun, and- and you can go to the movies if you want! But I don’t want detention on my record. Even if it won’t do anything, I just- it sounds bad.”

“Okay.” He says, after a moment of tense silence. His grin fades, but he doesn’t scoff or push you away. He sighs dramatically, “You’re changing me, y’know. Normally I’d be halfway home by now, but you’ve got me hauling myself in to see the principal, this is bullshit.”

“I told you you could go to the movies!” You gush, laughing weakly at his dramatic display. He brings one of his large hands up to your face, smearing his rough thumb beneath your eyes and wiping away the sticky tear tracks there.

“No,” He sighs again, huffing and puffing, “I’m the one that got you in trouble, I’m not gonna ditch you. We’ll just suffer together.”

His words strike something in you. He’s chosen to change himself, to face consequences for his actions when he’d normally flee. You’re proud of him, so insanely proud that you decide to change yourself as well, and when he leads you towards the office by your intertwined hands, you turn sharply and drag him the other way.

“Wha- Woah.” His eyes widen as you yank him down the hallway, your feet slapping against the shitty linoleum flooring. You beeline for the door, bursting into the daylight with your adrenaline-pumped chest heaving. You come to a stop just outside the building, looking back at him with a thrill glowing in your eyes.

“What movie are we seeing?” You pant, and his grin reappears.

“You’re trouble.” He declares in a laugh, “Let’s go.”

Billy drives fast. This time it doesn’t seem like recklessness, though, but fun. The windows are rolled down, and wind whips through the car and ruffles your hair. His own blonde curls are flying, in his face and over his shoulders against the seat.

“Slow down!” You shriek, laughing through your words, “We’re gonna crash!”

“What are we gonna crash into,” He gestures to the empty road in front of you, all farmland and dust as the same laughter bleeds into his own voice, “A haybale? You want me to slow down so you can admire the scenery?”

There is no scenery. There’s fields, half-dead grass rolling on for miles and miles and passing by so fast that it looks like the sand on a beach. The sky is your ocean, blue and foamy white where clouds streak across it. You pass isolated barns, groves of trees, and-

“Cows!”

“What?”

“Cows! There’s cows up there,” You gush, pointing aggressively at the pasture, “Stop!”

“I can’t-! Uh, okay,” Billy rushes to step on the brakes, wheels screeching against the poorly-paved asphalt as he skids to a stop.

You’re surprised he doesn’t burn through his tires with how fast he stops. You’re out of the car before he can even turn to look at you, seatbelt long unbuckled in favor of dashing for the cows. They’re grazing aimlessly in their pasture, only a weak white fence standing between you and them.

“Hey- Hey!” Billy shouts, rushing to get himself out of the car. He’s panting slightly when he finally stands beside you, regarding you with an indignant look, “What the fuck was that about?”

“Cows,” You croon, sticking your hands over the fence and reaching for the animals, “Come pet the cows with me, Billy!”

One of them seems very interested in any potential snacks your hand might be hiding. Its large, wet nose bumps against your skin and you laugh, long and loud and free, letting the animal explore your scent and petting along its face when it finally realizes you have nothing yummy to offer it.

There’s damp bits of grass stuck to your arm from where its mouth nuzzles against you,, and its tongue is purple when it comes out to swipe along your skin. You shriek, the sound morphing into an elated giggle.

“Oh,” Billy’s nose wrinkles and he takes a step back, “Gross.”

“It’s not gross!” You insist, pulling your arm away to wipe the grass on your jeans, “That’s just what cows do. You’ve never pulled over to pet some?”

“No,” He scoffs, “That’s the most ‘country’ shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah,” You nod gleefully, and he thinks maybe you’ve misinterpreted the scathing tone of his voice, “Come on, Billy, come pet the cows!”

“No thanks,” He shakes his head, “I’m gonna go smoke in the car. Jus’ come back when you’re done.”

You let him head back to the car only for long enough to get a few more scratches in under the chin of a cow to your right. Then you beeline for the passenger’s side, and Billy looks surprised at your arrival.

“Done?”

“No,” You shake your head, reaching for your backpack, “I’m just getting my strawberries.”

“Uh,” Billy watches, apprehensive as you pull a plastic bag of the fruit from your backpack, “You’re not gonna feed those to the cows, are you?”

“Duh,” You nod, pulling the bag open and nearly ripping the seam, “Cows love strawberries, I feed ‘em all the time.”

“You what?” Billy looks at you like you’ve told him you’re made of the red fruit you’re holding, “You’re gonna stick your fingers next to those animal’s faces with food in your hands and you don’t think they’re gonna bite you?”

“No, Billy, cows don’t bite! Not like that,” You insist, hair flying as you shake your head. “I’m not gonna put my fingers in their faces, I’m gonna hold the strawberries on my palm. Then they can’t bite me. Come on, I’ll show you!”

“I’m not feeding cows,” Billy insists, but he moves to get out of the car anyway. When he’s standing at full height he rips the cigarette out from between his lips, blowing smoke into the road, “But I’m not gonna let you run off on your own and get mauled by some hunk of beef.”

“You’re totally gonna feed the cows,” You grin, eyes narrowed at him as you turn on your heel and head back to the fence, “You’ll see!”

You’re already jamming your hand under a cow’s mouth, a strawberry staining your palm red and sticky, when Billy saunters up to the fence. He watches warily as you let the cow nose at your fingers, then it sticks its tongue out to sweep the fruit off of your skin.

You giggle at the ticklish feeling, but Billy’s mouth falls open in horror.

“Oh,” He groans, nose scrunched and grimace strong, “That’s so fucking gross. Its tongue is purple.”

“It’s cool!” You insist, offering the cow a hearty rub between the ears as it munches on your strawberry, hand slimy with spit, “Is there much farmland in California?”

“A bit,” Billy shrugs, blissfully unaware of the curious cow sneaking up behind him as he’s turned towards you, leaning sideways on the fence. “It’s kind of a mix. We didn’t live anywhere near farmland, but sometimes we went to visit Susan’s-!”

Before he can tell you what random relative lived far out in the California farmlands, there’s a cow tongue in his ear.

He jolts away from the fence with a squawk, nearly toppling over as one hand comes up to cover his ear. You’re roaring with laughter even as you help steady him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his waist while he stumbles to a stop a few feet away from the fence.

“He was looking for strawberries,” You giggle, pulling your sleeve over your hand to wipe cow spit off of his cheek, “I think that was your official welcome to Indiana, Billy.”

“Laugh all you want,” He groans, smearing his own hand over his face to rid his skin of any residual slime you’d missed, “But if we ever make it to an ocean and you wipe out, I’m laughing at you.”

“Deal,” You grin sideways at him, another strawberry in hand.

Of course, Billy does end up feeding the cows. It takes another round of hand-holding, though, where you place the strawberry in his palm and flatten yours beneath it. 

“Just be patient,” You murmur, feeling Billy’s hand tense as the cow noses at his fingers, “He just wants to say hi.”

“We’ve been acquainted,” Billy drawls, grimacing once more as the cow licks the strawberry off of his palm, “He tried eating the thoughts out of my head.”

“What thoughts?” You tease, but before you can gauge the situation and figure out whether you need to start running or not, Billy flips his hand over his shoulder to where you’re standing pressed to his back, and smears his sticky palm across your face.

“Oh,” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut and nose scrunched. You stagger backwards, nearly colliding with his car,  “Gross!”

“Oh, really?” Billy roars with laughter, grabbing you around the waist and leaning his chin over your shoulder as he presses your back to his chest, “I thought it was an Indiana welcome! I thought it was cool!”

“Not when you do it!” You can’t help but laugh, trying desperately to hold the cracked pieces of your disgusted facade together, “You’re not as cute as a cow!”

You’re lying, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“And to think,” He scoffs, loosening his hold on you but not letting go completely, “I was gonna buy your movie ticket for you.”

You’d almost forgotten your movie adventure. You’d been so wrapped up in having fun with Billy, soaring down the streets with music blaring from the speakers that you’d completely ignored the way he’d driven miles away from any nearby movie theater.

“Hey, yeah,” You stiffen in his grip, turning your head to knock your forehead with his. You try not to pay attention to how close you two are, keeping your focus on his stunning blue eyes, “Why are we out here? The theater’s back that way.” You jerk your thumb behind you in the direction you’d came, and his face settles into a smirk once more.

“We’re not going to that shitty theater,” He boasts, “We’re going to a drive-in. It’s a few miles into the next town over.”

It makes sense, you suppose. He has a cool car, and what better place to show it off?

“I’ve never been to a drive-in,” You gush, excitement brewing in your belly, “What are the showtimes?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, finally letting you go to saunter back to his car and lower himself into the driver’s seat. You follow to the passenger’s side, tucking the empty plastic bag back in your backpack.

“We’ll catch something.” He reasons, hands finally back on the wheel as you shut your door and buckle your seatbelt, “People around here have nothing better to do, I bet there’s movies playing every hour.”

He gets started on the road once more, and you decide to let him drive uninterrupted. Although it hurts you to watch unpet cows whizz by the windows, you know you’ll be back too late if you keep stopping. When his tires crunch against gravel, then smooth over dirt, the unlit neon sign of the drive-in looms overhead. He leans out of the window at the counter, ordering a large popcorn and two sodas along with your tickets in that rough drawl of his.

He’s a bit rough when he stops on the asphalt, but that’s just how he drives. He’s used to driving recklessly, it’s not a habit easily broken. You hope you can help him live better, sending him a soft, sweet smile as he passes you your soda.

“This view good?” He glances over at you, hand already buried in the popcorn.

You nod emphatically, “Mhm! What movie?”

“No clue,” He lets out a huff of a laugh, “Does it really matter?”

“No,” You shrug, “‘Guess not.”

“It’s almost five,” Billy glances at his watch, “Are your parents gonna freak if you’re not home by dark?”

“They’re having dinner with friends tonight,” You recall relievedly, “They’ll probably be out way later than us. And they’ll just leave dinner in the fridge, they won’t know I’m gone.”

“Nice,” Billy nods, absentmindedly gnawing on a solid popcorn kernel, “My dad never goes out with friends. He doesn’t really have any, I don’t think. Susan does, work friends, but she’s probably not eager to show off her husband.”

He speaks about his dad with a bitter tone in his voice, words coming out brittle like they’ll snap if he tries putting any feeling into them. You hum in understanding; if your husband was like Neil Hargrove, you wouldn’t bring him around your friends either.

“You have friends,” You hum, “Don’t you ever eat out with them?”

“Uh,” He turns his head to stare expectantly at you, “Hello? Remember how I drove you a town over to see a movie, and I let you stop us halfway to stage a petting zoo?”

“I don’t mean me,” You gush, “Like, your other friends! The guys on the basketball team, or whoever you usually hang out with. That little crowd. You don’t go out with them?”

“Not really,” Billy shrugs, “They’re not my friends. Not like- um,” He drops his gaze to his lap, picking at the bucket of popcorn, “Not like you are.”

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, then you wet your throat to speak again, “They seem… no offense, shallow. Like- like they only talk about superficial stuff together. I’ve heard some of your conversations, I think.”

“Oh, so you’re updated on the riveting world of Hawkins High’s popularity pageant?” He scoffs, reaching for a cigarette, “Shit’s so stupid.”

“You say that from the top of the food chain,” You point out tentatively, “You don’t like it there?”

“It’s better than nothing.” He slows his attempts to self-medicate, hand frozen where he’s striking his lighter, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m not getting pushed into lockers. But, it’s like-” His fingers tighten slightly around the cig, jaw tight, “I got there because of what I have, not who I am. And not even that, I got there because of what it looks like I have. They think I’m some kind of rich kid ‘cause I have a nice car, but we’re lucky we don’t live in the trailer park. They think I’m mowing my way through the cheerleading team because they’ve seen us talking before. Sure, maybe I’ve flirted with a few, but-” His face darkens in frustration, nose scrunching slightly, “On the weekends, my dad makes me do shit around the house. And on the weekdays, I’m looking after my sister.” 

You don’t point out his slip-up, how in a fit of passion he’s dropped the ‘step-’. It’s nice to hear.

“I have no time to sleep around,” He chuckles darkly, disdainfully, “Not often. But because people like me, or- or like what they think of me, they just assume I’m selling myself out for it.”

“It’s bullshit,” He concludes, huffily so, “It’s all bullshit. And it’s not gonna last past high school.”

A tense silence falls over the car after he’s finished speaking. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised anymore, not after two days of emotional curveballs from the man, but you think it might be the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

He looks nervous, fiddling with the keys in his ignition. Before he can regret opening up, you reach out to take his hand, pulling it away from the keys and linking yours into it on his thigh.

“I’m glad I’m your friend, Billy.” You confess, equal parts honest and tender. You want the words to soak into his veins, flow through his bloodstream and bloom sweet blossoms inside that light up his dark world.

“Me too,” He breathes, eyes glued to your intertwined hands as he tightens his fingers into the grip. As if on cue, the movie screen lights up, and it’s just barely dark enough outside to see the film.

“Here we go,” You settle in your seat, keeping your hand securely in his own, “Popcorn?”

Billy uses his free hand to pass the bucket over, and you can feel the heat concealed by the thick paper bucket hovering just above your hands. You munch on the buttery snack, a kernel already lodged in your teeth.

To Billy’s slight disinterest, it’s an old romance movie. He should have known, all that ever plays at these movie marathon nights are romances and beach flicks. He has a fleeting thought that he’d rather be watching women in bikinis, but it seems like something he shouldn’t think while holding your hand, so he pushes it away and tries to focus on the grainy, black-and-white footage. 

The transatlantic accents and over-dressed main characters only hold his attention for a few minutes. But he’s family to Neil Hargrove, and he knows how to tune out a boring speech. He focuses more on the warmth that your hand pushes against his, sweet and soft and soothing like the blanket he used to get tucked in under at his grandma’s house. His grandma who knitted that blanket herself, just for him, and who slipped him strawberry sweets anytime his dad got too drunk to notice. And the way you hold his hand feels just like his mother used to, with her thumb stacked on his so that she could stroke it like you’re doing now. He’s only held his dad’s hand a few times, and he’s not able to remember much. He just remembers his mom had always dropped Neil’s hand in a big dramatic fashion, claiming that it was like holding a dead fish.

There’s nothing morbid about holding your hand, though. You’re not stiff and cold like his father, your fingers curve around his and mold to his skin. You not only reciprocate, you initiate, squeezing at a funny line or brushing over the back of his hand.

You’re all the best parts of the people he’s loved, and none of the bad parts of the ones he couldn’t. If he was any sleazier, he’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven.

You let out a particularly sweet laugh at a scene and the sound takes him back to only a few nights ago, sitting on his bed and feeling safe. He’d actually forgotten about his father until the man had stormed his bedroom, and he marvels at how you’d managed to suck the terrible thoughts from his head. 

Your study session puts mitosis in his mind. Then biology, and he wonders if there’s ever been two organisms more compatible with each other. Personally, he thinks your biology is pretty basic: you were made for him, and he was made for you. 

He’s broken out of his scientific reverie when your head falls to his shoulder. You throw a quick glance up at him through your lashes, silently begging for permission for something you’ve already done. His heart thuds in his chest as he watches you with curious eyes, and a slow nod of his head is all you need to settle against his side. You’re at an awkward angle, side arched over the center console to get your head to his shoulder. That makes it better, Billy thinks, that you had to work for it. It means you really mean it, that you’re not just doing it because it’s convenient. You’re loving him because you want to.

“Shitty movie,” Billy grumbles, his voice hoarse from its prolonged silence.

“Good popcorn,” You hum, reaching for another piece. Billy leans down to snatch it out of your hand with his teeth, and chews it with a growing grin as you chuckle. 

“You’re a monster,” You tease, and a word that his brain usually whispers at him past midnight, loathing in his thoughts and venom in his veins, becomes nothing more than a nickname.

He thinks he wants to be your monster if it makes you laugh like that, all teasing teeth and careful manhandling.

You’re almost afraid you’ve insulted him with the title until he leans his head against yours, neck bent at an angle. His ear is pressed to the crown of your head, and just in case he can hear your thoughts, you think extra hard: I love you.

You last longer than Billy had, but you lose interest in the film, too. It’s not that it’s boring, it’s just not particularly interesting, and your brain is moving too slow for you to concentrate on careful dialogue. Apparently, the excitement of the day has caught up with you. Your eyes are starting to droop, and you think Billy might be able to feel your lashes flutter against his bicep. If he can, he doesn’t say anything, he just stays curled around you in his seat.

Slowly, second by second, minute by minute, you fall asleep. You drift away from the world and all that remains is Billy’s arm against your cheek, his hand holding yours. You don’t know if you’re fully sleeping or not, all you know is that Billy is the one constant between your life and your dreams.

Billy feels your breathing even out, the soft puffs of air that hit his arm soft and consistent. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but he lifts his head to peer at your face, seeing that you are, in fact, asleep.

He has the strongest urge in the world to kiss your forehead. He doesn’t, half because he’s scared you’ll wake up and think he’s a creep, and half because he’s not sure he’s capable of loving back. He’s taking it slow, and he’ll stick with leaning his head on you. 

He does that until the movie’s almost over, and the romantic climax is shining on the screen.

The woman has fallen asleep on the man’s shoulder. They’re not in a car, they’re on a park bench, but her nose is nudged up against his bicep, too, and their hands are intertwined.

The man reaches up to her cheek, and so does Billy.

His hand is warm and slightly rough against the soft skin of your cheek, but it’s his warm breath against your face that wakes you. Your lashes flutter open, and the only thing you can see are Billy’s pretty blue eyes. You’re almost startled, almost caught off-guard, and then you notice the dark flecks of insecurity in them, ridged between peaks of blue like ocean waves. 

He can’t speak. He’s paralyzed, eyes unblinking against your own, unable to ask, to tell, to beg. All he can do is stare, and hope that his hand isn’t shaking against your cheek.

He licks his lips, and you know what he’s trying to muster up the courage to do.

“Billy,” You breathe, soft and careful, “Are you sure?”

He manages to hum questioningly, but it’s a choked sound from somewhere deep in his throat.

“You’re speeding again,” You let out a breathy chuckle, but you raise your hand to hold his to your face, “Is this because you want me or because you think you’ll never get the chance to have me again?”

“I want you,” Billy murmurs, and the man on screen echoes his sentiments.

The woman on screen leans in, and so do you.

The kiss you share is unlike anything Billy’s ever felt. What he’s used to is prodding tongues, nipping teeth, below-the-belt grabbing, but this is new. This is the soft, dewy sweetness of lips barely touching, and the watermelon balm spread over your mouth. It’s tender in the way that you hold his hand to your cheek, and only made more so by the fact that you’re still holding hands between the seats. It’s less of an active kiss and more of an embrace, lips holding each other in place and noses bumping.

Billy’s never felt safer letting his eyes drift shut. At night there’s always the possibility that his dad will unlock the door in the middle of the night and take out insomnia-fueled rage on him. In his car he’ll get arrested for loitering. Now there’s nothing but you, and that’s all he ever wants there to be.

There’s muted claps from the other cars around you as the movie ends, and you choose to attribute the closing scene of fireworks to your kiss and not the leads’. When you draw away it’s with soft, content sighs, awestruck and breathless.

“I want you too, Billy.” You vow, more than happy to let him know he’s loved, “I’m glad we didn’t go to the front office.”

“Me too,” Billy breathes, leaning in to brush his lips against yours one last time, just holding them there as his fluttering eyes stare into yours.

The sound of revving engines breaks you out of your trance, and Billy pulls away from your face to look over your head. He’s still got his hand on your cheek, and you’re cradled to his chest as he watches everyone around you disperse.

“Let’s head home,” You murmur into his collarbones, kissing the skin there chastely, “You can stay the night at my house again, if you want.”

“I should get home,” He admits reluctantly, “My dad is probably still freaked about last night.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go back,” You hum, tracing the outline of a bandage through his shirt against his stomach.

“Me too,” He sighs, and finally lets your face go when the overhead lights to the lot flick on, “But we’ll get out soon.”

“Oh? Where are we going?” You settle back in your seat, turning to face him with curious eyes.

“California,” He smiles, and his genuine one is a breathtaking sight, “And anywhere you want to stop along the way.”

“That sounds perfect,” You sigh happily, head leaning comfortably back against the headrest. A yawn breaks through your lips and scrunches up your face, and Billy has to fight himself so that he doesn’t pull over and kiss the lines near your mouth.

The silence in his car is peaceful now, serene. There’s nothing left unsaid anymore, nothing hidden in your eyes and nothing withheld in your touches. You drift off to sleep wishing you were still holding Billy’s hand, and when you wake up, you are.

“Hey,” He whispers, squeezing your hand where his is interlocked with it, “Hey, wake up. You’re home now, we’ve gotta get you inside.”

“Hm? Oh,” You hum, bleary eyes taking in the outline of your house against the harsh beams of Billy’s headlights. “Thanks, Billy.”

“Uh-huh,” He nods, offering you a hand after you undo your seatbelt, “C’mon, if you can stand, I’ll carry you up to bed.”

You;re more than happy to let him sweep you off of your feet. He can feel your smile as you bury it in his neck, and he doesn’t even worry about shutting his car off and locking it before he pushes open your front door. Sure enough there’s tinfoil covered dinner on the counter alongside a note from your parents, and Billy marvels at how well they take care of you even when they’re not home. 

“To the right,” You instruct him, realizing he’s only ever gotten into your room from the window outside, “And it’s the second door down.”

“Got it,” He murmurs, chin bumping your cheek.

Your bed is still unmade from that morning, and he yearns to slip beneath the covers again. He’s jealous when he tucks you in, and you’re glad you wore comfy clothing to school so that you can burrow under your blankets and not worry about changing.

“Goodnight,” Billy leans down, an inch away from your face, “Can I…?”

You lean up to do it for him, pushing your lips against his once more.

He melts into it, and the way that your nails scratch the hair at the base of his scalp only makes it worse.

“Goodnight,” You mumble, words wonky and misspoken against his lips, “I had fun today, Billy. I’m glad we’re friends, and I’m glad we’re more.”

“Me too,” He agrees, and the sentiments he’s agreeing to feel foreign to him. Five days ago he’d have been the least likely person on earth to have a friend, and now he’s got a partner to boot. In every sense of the word, he loves you, even if he won’t say those three words yet.

“Please be safe,” You cup his cheek, stroking over his slightly bruised cheekbone with tenderness he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to, “And if he hurts you again, stay with me instead.”

“I will,” Billy promises, dotting a dewy kiss to the side of your mouth as you settle into sleep, content with his safety.

He tells himself he’s just puttering around, throwing a stray sock into the laundry hamper and straightening a book he’d nearly knocked off of your nightstand on the way in. But really he’s waiting to make sure you’re really asleep, ring already slipped off of his finger and growing sweaty in his palm.

Once he’s sure you won’t wake, he peels back the covers on your bed, taking your hand in his. It’s got a familiar weight to it, a fact that he mentally celebrates, and his fingers shake as he slides the metal band onto your finger.

Having a ring to chuck in the garbage is gonna hurt a whole lot more when they leave, he reminds himself. Then, ‘If’.

“If they leave.” Your soft voice rings in his ears, and as he treks back to his car, revving the engine in the silvery light of the moon, there’s a feeling he’s never felt before rising in his chest. Hope: “Some people stay.”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

[priestessofuniverse]

PICK A CARD READING OF THE DAY

What's the advice from the mother of the universe for your current situation ? ✨️

So for this reading, I'm using the Kali oracle deck to look for guidance regarding whatver situation the 3 piles are facing .

Select an image from below and go to the pile number for that image .

LETS GOOOO

Pile 1

Everyone who chose pile 1 . You've got Vishwamata card .

She says , you are far stronger than you realise . The universe recognizes your inner potential and is simply waiting for you to acknowledge it. Do not despair over your situation because everything here is temporary . It will soon be solved . Be strong and move forward knowing that you're guided and protected by the universe . You are being encouraged to develop more self confidence and being asked to be more committed towards your desires or dreams . Do not give in to fear or failure. Proceed step by step . Even though your current situations aren't to your liking , this is only a phase that will benefit you to transform and grow stronger spiritually. 💪 The universe wants you to stop victimizing yourself and focus on healing your traumas instead . You can do it . Don't worry . The universe is cheering for you ✨️ 💛 💖

Pile 2

Everyone who chose pile 2 , you've got Maa Shodashi .

She's here to let you know , the universe is urging to cleanse yourself . A deep cleanse from all past traumas , hurt and pain is required. After experiences of being judged , betrayed or hurt , now you're being supported by the divine to heal and grow and flourish. Now is your time to shine. You are capable to attracting all your desires . You are capable of manifesting your wildest dreams. Honor your heart and it shall lead you to enlightenment. Both materially and spiritually . Your heart understands the inner working of the divine more than your mind does , so even if the mind recoils yet the heart wants ? GO FOR IT . Even in challenges and difficulties , don't lose hope and do NOT lose your faith . Keep a firm belief that the universe has its blessings on you . You're worthy of it all . (I just saw 12.12 - The 12:12 angel number is an indication that you are at a point in your life where you are ready to step out of your comfort zone and enter into those goals you've been putting off. If you've been contemplating trying something new, this is your sign to move forward!) GO BESTIE . YOU CAN DO IT. universe is cheering for you . ✨️ 💛 💖

Pile 3

You guys have got the Dharma of Kali .

Maa is here to say , Every challenge and every opportunity in your life is designed by the divine for optimal growth . The intelligence of the divine is within your heart . So when you trust in the divine and walk in alignment to your souls integrity , everything else naturally will fall into place . The journey might be tough but the outcome is going to be worth it. So keep your head high and walk with the divine . Call your power back from useless sources and push forward with your heart . Go and conquer the battlefield . Do not fret if you are forced to break a few societal rules in the process. Conventional was never meant to be your cup of tea anyway. This fight is yours to win. The divine is with you ✨️ 💛 ❤️

I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THE READING. Lemme know in the reply section of how it resonated .

🙏🙏🙏