#I have no idea if anyone reads these tags but I just realized at like midnight that I forgot to write up this post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vngelicc · 4 months

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e s p r e s s o

⋆ TAGS — boxer!jk, he’s a fanboy, pouty jkkkkkk, oc’s a idol, sugar daddy elements, fluffy, rom-com vibess, jk’s secretly a little sub who loves praise, praise kinks, making love, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, rough sex, pussy-eating, unprotected sex, creampies, very light dirty talk, oc’s a tease, jk just loves oc, some violence (nothing serious jk punches a guy), oc’s a pillow princess, mainly dom!jk, subby!oc who is a menace, jk is super protective and a good bf, he beats someone up for you, tit play

⋆ WORD COUNT — 14.6 k

Jeon Jungkook was many things—charismatic, “lover boy”, charming—but the biggest one of all: a pain in the ass (for Yoongi). Jungkook was the type of guy to do whatever he wanted WHEN he wanted.

The kid had a strong backbone, Yoongi will give him that but it was an absolute nightmare dealing with the press for someone like Jungkook. Yoongi can count on his fingers how many times Jungkook’s gotten into heat for his loud ass mouth. Sometimes not all publicity was necessary whether it was good or bad in Yoongi’s opinion (not that anyone’s ever asked).

“Where is he? That little shit–” Yoongi growls behind gritted teeth as he storms through the gym towards the private training room Jungkook usually practiced in.

He slams the door open and locks eyes with his target, “There you are–!”

Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns around in surprise, “Hyung?” He’s confused as fuck because he’s been behaving himself lately, sooo what did he do now? “Yoongi hyung—ow! What the hell was that for?”

“How many times did I tell your ass to keep your little flings under the radar? I told you: if you’re gonna be fooling around with people do it on the down low but no, you just gotta fucking let the world know huh?” Yoongi seethes, literally trembling with rage from where Jungkook stands.

Jungkook makes a confused noise, “But I didn’t–”

“Then, what. The. Fuck. Is this?” Yoongi slaps his phone in Jungkook’s face, on it there’s some tweet with an article linked to it.

Jungkook squints his eyes mumbling under his breath as he reads the tweet out loud, “..Idol l/n y/n caught in a dating scandal with infamous boxer Jeon Jungkook–what’s the big deal though, everyone usually ignores these types of things.”

Yoongi looks like he wants to scream, “Kid you realize you’re a celebrity right?” Nod. “Okay, and she’s a celebrity too right?” Nod. “So why in the FUCK wouldn’t this be a big deal? I mean, it’s not like we’re not talking about the nation’s ‘sweetheart’ here, the country’s fucking pride and joy.” He really needs a fucking smoke right now.

“Hyung it’s just a fucking rumor she probably doesn’t even care or know about it, I don’t see why you’re stressing out. Not like I know her either,” Jungkook carelessly says as he throws a few punches at the bag, “you’re gonna end up bald with how you’re stressing right now.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, in, out, in, out. “Because, idiot,” emphasis on the idiot, “this shit is getting out of control, you have any idea how many fucking news outlets are talking about this? For fucks sake the entire country is in shambles cause their ‘precious’ y/n is supposedly dating some lowlife boxer, no biggie really it’s not like I haven’t been getting threats either over this little stunt of yours.” He glares.

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh as he stops in his tracks, “Hyung I didn’t do anything, so fucking what if I posted a pic with my photocard, it’s MY photocard! Don’t her fans do that shit too, so why is it a problem that I do it too?”

“Because people think you’re dating now! They think you’re soft launching her or something!” Yoongi tugs at his hair, “You realize if people find out you fucked with her just to get in her bed they’re gonna lose it and not just on her but you mainly. You want a fucking witch hunt out for you? Because you know damn well they love her more than you.”

“Ouch.” Jungkook grumbles petulantly.

“No, ouch, use your fucking brain think about the damage you’ll take all because you wanted to fuck their little princess.” Yoongi glares.

Jungkook’s almost offended that Yoongi would think of him like that. Sure he had his fair share of groupies and models but Jungkook wasn’t a complete asshole about it! He had feelings too, he’s not sorry that he was fucking casually like any other normal person who was looking to unwind. It also isn’t his fault that they labeled him a playboy.

In the eyes of the public Jungkook was a menace as there were rumors of him knocking models up and cheating on the girls he’s ever gotten spotted with. Everyday he woke up and there was something new that came out whether it was him “dating” or his flings coming out to talk about their one night stands.

Needless to say he didn’t have the best public image.

“Okay let me stop you there, I’m not after her for sex or anything. If you really want to know, I'm actually interested in her. I wanna get to know her some more and take things further y’know?” He huffs and wipes the sweat off his brow with his shirt.

Yoongi scoffs, “Yeah right, I’ll believe it when I see it.” As he finishes his sentence the door opens and Namjoon pops in with Seokjin, the two team members hauling in some duffle bags in tow.

“What’s going on? The hell Yoongi look so red for?” Namjoon huffs as he drops the bag gracelessly, “Jungkook what did you do now?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, tutting him like a misbehaved child.

Jungkook’s mouth drops open, this traitor! He’s supposed to be on his side, not Yoongi’s. Seokjin interrupts with a loud cackle, “What didn’t he do?” Another traitor! Jungkook can’t believe this, his own hyungs against him.

“Long story short Romeo over here is in a dating scandal—not with just anybody though, fucking l/n y/n. Y’know, the poster child.” Yoongi spits harshly, shooting Jungkook another pissy look while he’s at it.

Namjoon’s mouth drops open in shock, Seokjin actually looks pretty terrified too which is funny because if only he could see the face he’s making right now.

“No way you’re insane for that, shit good luck with the press because they don’t play about their little popstar.” Namjoon manages to utter once the shock passes.

Jungkook glares, “I didn’t do anything! They’re mad I’m showing off my photocard, I bet you that they’re jealous because they don’t have this one.” He huffs and thrusts his phone out to show them his phone case.

“What exactly did you do?” Seokjin laughs.

“Nothing! I posted a mirror pic and I didn’t expect a bunch of crazies to over analyze shit and spot the photocard. Not like it’s MY fault people make up narratives and shit.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away safely in his pocket, “But you know what, just wait and see.”

“Wait and see what?” Namjoon snorts in amusement.

“Hyung doesn’t believe me but I’m serious about her, I’m gonna ask her out and from there maybe talk and get to know each other. One thing for sure she’s gonna be my girl unless she slaps me in the face and tells me to leave her alone or somethin,” Jungkook grins as he elbows his still pissed off manager.

Seokjin looks at him with a shit-eating grin, “Sure let me know how that ends up going for you.”

Jungkook purses his lips, “You’ll see..”

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⟡

They end up in Miami for a boxing match Jungkook has pending but his opponent ended up coming down with something so it got canceled. Now Jungkook has no clue what to do for an entire week and it doesn’t help that he’s jet lagged, hungry, and tired. Not a good combination.

“Did they say when the match will be back on?” Jungkook mumbles boredly from his spot on the lounge chair in his hotel. He’s slumped over scrolling down his phone looking at random shit on his feed.

“Hard to tell Kook, apparently the guy’s really sick and can barely get outta bed or somethin’. They said it was better to wait it out for a week and see what happens with him.” Yoongi sighs deeply, “Fuck, just our luck too.”

Jungkook nods in agreement, “What do we do now hyung? Do we go back or..?”

Yoongi takes a seat on the opposite side of him with a shrug, “Dunno, do whatever you want since the match is canceled. Me and Joon gotta stay back to talk with the event organizers and shit.”

He goes quiet for a few moments before sitting up, “Oh wait there’s an award show going on right now, they sent me an invite for you but I don’t know if you wanna go or not.”

“Award show?” Jungkook makes a face but what other shit does he have to do? It’s not like he’s got a match anymore anyways, maybe the after party will be cool or something. “I guess, why do they want me there?”

“Appearances for the press—you know, the usual.” Yoongi hums.

Jungkook’s lips are pursed as he looks around deep in thought. DOES he wanna go? It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve asked him to make an appearance but Jungkook doesn’t really like these types of things. Red carpets and interviews are so tedious and time consuming.

Wait—

“Hyung!” He suddenly gasps, “Holy shit—pass me my suit.” He says as he bolts away into the bathroom.

Yoongi looks at him in confusion, “What..kid what the hell are you on?” He snorts, “Don’t tell me you’re excited to go to this thing.” Nonetheless he still takes out Jungkook’s suit for him and lays it on the bed.

“No you don’t understand,” Jungkook cuts off as he splashes his face with water, “y/n is probably gonna be there!”

“y/n—Jungkook really?” Yoongi groans, “I thought you were playing around last time, I didn’t think you were actually serious about it.”

Jungkook holds back his whine, “Hyung you always think I’m playing around, why isn’t anyone taking me seriously about her! I swear I have good intentions.”

“I dunno, maybe cause you have a habit of sleeping with anything that walks and looks pretty to you. Or maybe the fact that you’ve done this before. Should I remind you of that one model from Cancun?” Jungkook pouts, “Or the bartender chick from LA?” His pout deepens, “Or the girl from Paris?”

“Okay I get it!” Jungkook grumbles, “But this time I’m serious hyung, more than I ever been about someone—especially her.” He says with a sigh while changing out of his clothes and into the suit Yoongi laid out for him.

Yoongi sighs deeply, “Look all I’m saying is to be careful how you go about this, it’s a lot at stake right now not just because of you being involved with her but the fact that the public has their opinions about you already as it is.”

Jungkook appreciates the sentiment but he doesn’t need anyone to approve or disagree about his feelings. The public didn’t deserve any explanations over what Jungkook chooses to do with his life, he’s here to fight and that’s it. Not to be anyone’s marionette or dress-up doll.

“I know hyung, thanks.” He smiles back and slips his blazer on, “I’ll text you later on and tell you what happens.” Yoongi doesn’t reply verbally rather with a low grunt, “See ya.” Jungkook says with a final grin and heads out of the room down to the main lobby and into a car Yoongi had waiting for him.

On the way to the venue he checks out the award show on Instagram, he sees a lot of people he recognizes and a few new faces. His eyes scan over the page eagerly in hopes of seeing you on there. Are you performing tonight? Were you already there on the red carpet? Oh he bets you look absolutely divine tonight (you always do).

“Yes!” He says a bit too loudly startling his driver in the process as he sheepishly apologizes.

Jungnkook finally comes across a post about you and he reads over the caption with an excited hum, biting his lip when he sees that you are performing after all. He’s getting a mean adrenaline rush right now like the ones he usually gets before his matches. Just thinking about how he’s gonna get to meet you tonight is getting him all worked up. He wonders if you’ll even give him the time of day.

Only one way to find out.

“Jeon over here!”

“Jeon, look here!”

“Jeon, is it true you and y/n are dating?” Jungkook makes a point to ignore this and act like he didn’t hear it even though he’s screaming on the inside.

The red carpet’s full of singers and models, the fans are screaming and reporters keep getting in his damn way as he tries to make his way through the crowd. Of course he stops for a picture or two with a fan, poses for the paparazzi too but he’s not concerned with them right now. He knows he must look a little lost with the way he keeps looking around like he’s trying to find something (yeah, you).

Jungkook almost frowns like a child who didn’t get their way once he sees you’re not anywhere in sight. You probably already headed inside which sucks cause he really wanted to see you beforehand since it was probably arranged seating in there. At this rate he won’t be able to even say hi–

“Oh shit, my bad.” Jungkook says when he bumps into someone behind him. He turns around to apologize properly when his heart fucking stops. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod—it’s you.

You look up at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, face scrunched up cutely (your lips pouty) in confusion as you tilt your head up (UP!) to look at him, “Um, you’re stepping on my dress.” Even your voice is so prettyyy.

“Sorry my fault,” Jungkook steps back and kneels down to fix the rumpled state he left it in, vaguely aware of the fast flashing (the paparazzi must be eating this up), “lemme make it up to you though.” He says once he comes back up.

You tilt your head, “And how would you do that?”

“I’ll buy you a new dress.” Jungkook’s dead serious too, if you asked him to buy you a whole house he’d do it in a heartbeat. Take everything at this point—have it.

“And who said I want you to buy me things?” You muse softly.

Jungkook chuckles softly and leans down to talk in your ear because the crowd’s getting louder and it’s hard to talk to you, “Don’t be like that, if you let me take you out I’ll show you all the things I can buy you.” He murmurs low, voice husky.

You tilt your head to look at him, eyes dropping down to his lips and then back up as a coy smile plays at your soft lips, “You’re funny.” You pat his cheek with a soft manicured hand and walk away.

His heart nearly skips a damn beat when you do that. Oh he swears he can still feel your soft hand sliding over his cheek when you walked away from him like the little tease you were. He doesn’t know how long he stands there until he gets moving, a stupid grin on his face the entire time as he replays the moment over and over again in his head.

Jungkook’s not gonna lie, this little cat and mouse game that just started has him eager for more. He’s so getting your number by the end of the night, call him delusional but he swears you’re digging him too with the way you checked him out just now.

He spends the entire night throwing a few sneaky glances your way, hell when you got on stage to perform he nearly folded then and there. Everything about it—sultry gaze, soft husky voice, and sensual body rolls—was perfect. Jungkook don’t even care that people are watching him ogle you in 4K, he doesn't bother to hide the fact that he likes what he’s seeing right now.

To make things worse you pass by his seat and shoot him a dazzling little smile, waving your fingers coyly at him which makes the people go wild. Oh he’s in love. Jungkook makes a point in looking for you afterwards at the afterparty. You’re changed out of your outfit from earlier, now in a pretty babydoll and your little Prada loafers.

When he makes eye contact you shoot him a smile, “Thought I’d wear something you can’t step on again.”

Jungkook snorted softly, “I already told you, I dunno why you’re being stubborn, quit playing and let me take you out already.” He says smoothly and wraps his arm around your waist, surprised that you don’t push him off or anything.

You look him up and down with a soft hum, “Mmmm I’m kinda in the mood for some paella.”

“Then let’s go.” Jungkook’s ready, he will literally drop everything to get you some paella.

“Not from here though, I hear it’s way better in Spain.” You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down so he’s eye level with you, “So unless you’re willing to take me to Spain, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jungkook licks his lips, “Fuck it, let’s go.” He starts leading you away, peeping the way you look surprised, “What?” He laughs.

“You’re serious, right now?” Once you recover from the initial shock you smile at him with a quiet giggle, “You’re crazy.”

Oh he just adores that cute eye-smile of yours, “Let’s get you some paella yeah?”

It’s a nine hour flight you both impulsively leave on with no bags, didn’t even tell your managers, and only your phones and wallets. No one questions when Jeon Jungkook walks through first class hand in hand with you trailing close by, you’re even wearing his blazer over your shoulders because you complained about how chilly it was.

Jungkook’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s sitting with you in the first class cabin. You don’t seem to mind how touchy he is so he keeps an arm over your shoulder so you’re pressed close to his side. He nearly screams when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off into a peaceful slumber.

You left Miami around one in the morning and got to Madrid at nine with Jungkook booking you two a room at the infamous Four Seasons hotel. You knock out with him for a few more hours until you’re complaining about your paella.

“Hurry up, I'm starving and you promised me my paella.” You grumble and poke at his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m awake.” Jungkook murmurs calmly as he rolls out of the bed to make himself presentable.

Jungkook feels like he’s in a dream right now, god this better not be because the sight of you looking so happy in front of him while eating your beloved paella is one for the books. Your little brunch date turns into a shopping date because you complain you don’t wanna be wearing clothes from yesterday since the two of you decided to stay in Spain for the weekend.

He has a goofy smile on his face as he swipes, taps, and inserts his black card at different stores you drag him to. He lets you spend his money how you want to, relishing in the way the BVLGARI store worker’s eyes nearly bulge out of their head when Jungkook pays for a forty-eight thousand wrist watch, all for you.

“Doesn’t it look pretty?” You grin softly while holding your wrist out to him.

Jungkook gently takes your hand in his and admires the watch, “Perfect, really suits you.” He grins softly as he thanks the employees and heads out with you to another store to see what you find.

By the time Sunday comes Jungkook’s spent well over one-hundred grand on you but does he care? No, not really because he did say he’d show you all the things he’d buy you. Jungkook doesn’t wanna go back to Miami but Yoongi’s bitching at him to go back because apparently his opponent got better and the match was back on and set for Tuesday the earliest.

“Let me make you mine already.” He finds himself mumbling low in your ear as he tugs you into a loose hug, not caring that you two were standing in the middle of the airport about to board different flights back (of course he pays for your first class ticket home).

You look up at him with coy eyes and a soft little smile on your glossy lips, god he just wants to kiss the fuck out of you but he doesn’t because you haven’t give him the okay for anything past non-sexual intimacy which he’s fine with because he does wanna take time to get to know you.

His breath hitches when your finger comes up to trace over his lips gently, “Cute.” You don’t say anything else and walk away after the intercom announces your flight. You leave him standing there in the middle of the airport, dreamier than ever but sadly it’s cut short by his phone ringing.

“Where the hell are you?” Yoongi growls.

“Calm down hyung, I’m boarding in a few minutes.” Jungkook sighs as he rolls his eyes, “I got so much shit to tell you.” He smirks to himself and begins walking.

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⟡

Sometime into the next week when Jungkook lands back in Korea he asks for your number through Instagram. He’s kinda surprised you gave it to him instead of dodging him like before, nonetheless he’s happy and giddy about it. He quite literally looks like a schoolgirl kicking her feet in bed texting her crush, that’s how he feels like right now.

You’re a quick texter which he likes and you don’t seem to mind him spamming so that’s even better. Jungkook spends his week giggling over dumb shit (it’s not) you say which has Seokjin making fun of him for it, which speaking of them they still couldn’t believe Jungkook pulled you.

“No way let me see.” Seokjin had demanded, “You’re lying, she would never, she looks like she has standards.” Jungkook can’t tell if he’s jealous or something, maybe he’s a secret stan too who knows.

Jungkook long established he was down bad for you ages ago but this just took the cake, a whole new level of simping. It starts when Jungkook decides to post a training video of him boxing/training, he goes viral and trends for a week because in the background he’s playing one of your songs. He’s got a shit ton of people calling him a “girly pop” or “cunty boxer” but most tell him he knows what’s up.

He doesn’t know but by him doing that it opens a new door to your developing relationship because you start asking him to do things for you. It starts with you telling him to change his profile picture with a pic from your latest comeback (he gets made fun of by your fans but he doesn’t care).

Then you make him tweet: “stream y/n for clear skin” while promoting your music video through him (again he’s a laughing stock). The nail in the coffin is when you prettily request him to wear a shirt from your merch collection after one of his boxing matches.

“Oh my god.” Yoongi says with his mouth dropped open in shock as Jungkook steps out of the backroom wearing a baby pink t-shirt with your face all over it, the cameras flash like crazy and reporters yell out a slew of different questions.

Jungkook runs around carefree in his little pink shirt posing for the cameras and grinning like an idiot because he knows you’re probably at home watching this. Yoongi asks him why he does these things and Jungkook just shrugs, he likes the praise you give him for doing everything you ask him to. He knows it’s light-hearted fun and you’d never do anything to humiliate him intentionally, if you’re happy then that’s all that matters.

jk: did u see me tonight?

y/n <3: yess lol can’t believe you actually did itttt

you looked super cute too, you should wear more shirts with my face on them.

jk: mayyybeeee you can come to one of my matches? don’t u think i earned it?

y/n <3: when is it?

Jungkook damn nearly yells out in excitement, he’s literally shaking as he types out a fast response like you’re about to change your mind or something. He sends you the time and day for it, promising front row seats so you’ll have a good view as he kicks this guy’s ass. You have him cheesing when you say this is going to be your first boxing match too, he’s so excited now.

“Calm down kid you’re gonna give me a headache with all that tapping.” Yoongi grunts as he slaps his hand against Jungkook’s knee, “I don’t know why you’re nervous, she already told you she’s here.”

“Because hyung! This is a big deal to me, she’s here at one of my matches and she’s gonna get a front row view of the fight. Now I have to win this, I have to make it worth her time.” Jungkook grumbles with a pout.

Somewhere off to the side he hears Namjoon snort at him, “She’s really got you wrapped around her finger don’t she?” He says while hauling in a cooler with water bottles.

Jungkook doesn’t even refute that statement, he barely bothers to acknowledge him because he’s reading over the texts you’re sending him. “Hyung she said yes to coming to the after party!” He grins cheerfully.

“Good now get your head out of your ass and focus on what I’m about to say. You have less than five minutes before you’re up in that ring and I need your head in the game.” Yoongi says sternly as he plucks Jungkook’s phone out of his hand, “You remember what I said about pacing yourself?”

Jungkook sits there listening as Yoongi goes into trainer mode, he knows his hyung means no harm and just wants him to win this so Jungkook can’t really be mad at him. He must have zoned out because Yoongi brings him back with a sharp smack to his arm, “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles as he stands up, “let’s do this.”

“Get out there and make me proud.”

The entire atmosphere outside has Jungkook’s adrenaline kicking in already. He hears the crowd chanting his name, the loud booming music, and the chatter from the on-goers. He mentally psyches himself, lightly bouncing on his feet as he closes his eyes and mumbles a small prayer. Once he hears his name echo loudly and the screams he steps out with his gloves in the air.

This is what he lives for—the crowds, the music, and the atmosphere. He looks around the arena with a grin as they chant his name over and over again, stopping here and there to pose with fans. Jungkook’s not entirely focused on them though, his eyes wander through the front row looking for you and when his gaze finally lands on you he can’t help the big smile he sports.

You look so pretty with your MIUMIU glasses over your head. You’ve got on a plain baby white tee under your black leather jacket, some low rise jeans and your loafers. Right now you’re the center of attention in your section with people taking pics of you from every direction and some asking for an autograph. You even brought your little friend (Jeon Soyeon?) along.

As he passes by Jungkook shoots you a wink to which you wave back with a flirty little smile. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes skim over his bare chest and the desire begins fueling him with more determination to win. Sure he likes winning because who doesn’t? But now he has more reason to win, he has to impress his future girl.

Jungkook gets pulled up on stage with his heart drumming against his ribcage, he’s so ready for this. The ref calls out both of them and soon enough after slipping his mouth guard and gloves on he rises to his feet and stalks forward slowly with a glint in his eye.

“I want a clean fight okay,” the ref says to both as Jungkook nods, “alright, to your corners.” He sends them both away, the announcer saying some shit Jungkook doesn’t really concern himself with.

Jungkook makes eye contact with you one last time, the two of you mutually nodding before the sound of a bell has Jungkook immediately shifting his focus. He’s light on his feet and takes his time watching with diligent eyes as his opponent circles around him, waiting to get the hit on him but Jungkook’s faster.

The guy swings but Jungkook easily dodges, another swing and Jungkook manages to catch him off guard with a sucker punch to the jaw sending the guy reeling backwards. Jungkook feels like he had enough time to warm-up, he doesn’t play around anymore and launches himself towards his opponent with determination.

Punch after punch and round after round ends with Jungkook delivering one final blow, easily sealing this poor guy’s fate as the guy just lets go and falls to the ground. The referee jumps in, counting down from ten as Jungkook watches with anticipation and adrenaline, ready to go again if this guy gets up. He sees Yoongi sitting with clenched fists and a hopeful look in his eye, and then he sees you.

You’re looking at Jungkook with worry, eyebrows furrowed and doe eyes filled with concern. He manages a bloody smile despite the fucking world of pain he’s in right now (he’s not looking forward to the ice bath after this). He swears the world around him blurs until he finally hears the bell and the announcer’s voice echoing through the arena.

“Knockout!”

Jungkook sags in relief as he hears cheers and yells all around. The paparazzi flash him with their cameras as the crowd loses it, Jungkook turns in time to see Yoongi crawling into the ring and bringing him in for a tight hug, “You fuckin’ did it kid,” he laughs in disbelief as he has Jungkook spit his bloody mouthguard out.

“Fuck hyung, water.” Jungkook rasps out as Yoongi yells for Namjoon to come over.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, “Look at me kid, you okay?” He pats his cheek as Jungkook nods tiredly given that the adrenaline rush was now gone, leaving him bruised and exhausted.

Namjoon comes over with water as Jungkook takes sips, spitting it out into a bucket Yoongi holds out for him to rinse his mouth out. The referee comes over to announce Jungkook as the winner as he stands there barely holding on from pain. He makes eye contact with you again, smiling through the exhaustion despite feeling pretty shitty right now. He slowly makes his way over as you simultaneously rise from your chair to meet him halfway.

“So, what do you think?” Jungkook smirks as he crouches down and hops out of the ring.

You pout cutely with a frown, “You’re hurt.” You softly murmur as your delicate hand comes up to cup his face, “I’m happy for you though, you did really amazing.” You smile.

Jungkook feels his heart swell with happiness hearing that, he goes to wrap his arm around your shoulder but stops in pain. He forgot about this part as a low groan slips from his lips, “Shit he got me pretty good.”

“Don’t overexert yourself,” you help him wrap an arm around you, “gotta be careful, you took some pretty hard hits in there.”

Jungkook laughs tiredly as he lays his head on top of yours while you walk together to the back, “Shoulda seen the other guy.” He says low, ignoring the pointed glare you shoot at him, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just messing with you.”

You grumble something under your breath but he doesn’t catch it, he’s riding off on the high from winning and being so close to you. He likes this and wouldn’t mind having you in his life more after this as he’s long made peace with the idea of you being in his future. All he can think about at this moment is you, you, you.

“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know that's that me, espresso,”

Jungkook’s laughing and talking with his friends, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms pressed against his chest as he nurses a whiskey in his other hand. You play with one of his necklaces and tune out his conversation which he doesn’t notice until he turns to you and sees how sad you look, “What’s wrong?”

You look up at him and shake your head, “Just thinking.”

“About?” He gently prods, shifting his entire attention to you.

“You didn’t look so good earlier..how do you do it? I mean, I get you trained for this but I dunno, kinda scared me seeing you all beat up.” You softly murmur, “It’s just a thought of mine, I don’t mean to offend you or anything.”

Jungkook softens at that, he thinks it’s adorable you’re worrying about him like that. Almost feels like.. “Let’s dance?” He asks when a favorite song of his comes on, “C’mon, it’ll take your mind off things.” He grins.

You smile at him softly and follow him to the dancefloor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you by the hips with gentle hands. He hums along to the song playing in the background with his dark eyes trained on yours. You look so beautiful under the dark lights and he can’t help but lean in.

“You’re super pretty y’know that?” Jungkook softly hums as he presses his forehead against yours.

You softly laugh, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Mmm did I mention I really like your lips?” His lip curls in a smirk, “Love how soft and plump they look, ‘specially when you wear lip gloss..” He slowly trails off as his lips hover over your own, “Can I kiss you?”

The way your eyes light up, crinkling with joy as you eagerly nod. Jungkook presses his lips to yours in a gentle manner, it’s sweet and slow, just like how he likes it. Your arms tighten around his neck and you tug him further down until he's towering over your figure, blocking you from everyone’s view.

Feels like everything’s complete now and Jungkook’s never felt happier than ever.

He slowly pulls off from the kiss as he stares down at you suddenly feeling shy, “Can I, um, maybe drive you home? Just to make sure you get home safe ‘n stuff. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just thought I’d ask.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gently reply.

A slow smile spreads over his lips and he nods, “Let’s go then.” He guides you out of the party and into his sleek black car that’s parked out in the front.

The car ride’s quiet and peaceful, he has the windows rolled down as the fresh breeze brushes over the two of you. Jungkook wishes the car ride lasted a little longer but it’s late (two in the morning actually) and he knows you’re tired. He makes a mental note to take you out on a drive next time you guys meet up.

“We’re here baby.” He murmurs softly, gently waking you from your sleep.

“Hm?” You sleepily blink and look around, “Damn, I’m more tired than I thought.” You smile tiredly while stretching your arms out.

Jungkook chuckles, “Don’t worry I got you.” He steps out and rounds the car, opening your door for you and helping you out, “Want me to carry you?” He teases.

You shoot him a sleepy pout and shake your head, “I’m good, maybe next time though.” You breathily chuckle.

“There’s a next time?” He teases.

You toss him a knowing look, stopping in front of the building door, “Good night, or morning I dunno I’m tired.” You spin around and lean over to smooch his cheek gently, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You softly murmur.

Jungkook’s completely entranced by you as he nods slowly, “Night.”

“Morning.” You teasingly correct him as you make your way inside.

Jungkook doesn’t leave until he sees you hop into the elevator, and even then you still wave at him before disappearing inside. Once you’re gone Jungkook lets out a deep sigh as he leans back on his car, what a night.

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆

A few weeks pass and it’s nothing but bliss for Jungkook. Seeing that he has no matches lined up or anything he decides to hang out with you nearly everyday whether it be you and him going out for ice cream dates or Jungkook just taking you out for evening drives out of the city.

He’s on cloud nine right now—he’s got the girl of his dreams, his payout from the last match was pretty big, and everything’s going right for him. Sure you haven’t sat down to actually clarify what you two are but Jungkook knows you feel the same way about him. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing with the way things are right now, the you’re mine and I’m yours is left unsaid but it’s there.

You’ve both been hard launching each other on your socials for the past few weeks anyways. By now people knew there was something up with you and him, given that Jungkook wasn’t exactly discreet when he posted on his stories with you in them. Jungkook knows you’ve been doing the same thing too so by now the media kinda labeled the relationship.

Will he say anything? Probably not. Does he care? Nope. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, he just wanted to be able to date you in peace.

Sometime in the week though you send him a message asking him if he wants to come with you as your plus one to some award show taking place in Hong Kong. He says yes of course duh, why the hell would he say otherwise?

He posts a pic with you in the private plane before calling it quits and ignoring his mentions/comments for the rest of the day. Today’s your big day and while you’re not performing he wants to put his entire focus into being there for you.

“How do I look?” He hears you say as he’s getting ready.

You’re dressed to the nines styled in vintage Chanel and Jungkook had a suit tailored to match your aesthetic for the evening. He knows you both are gonna look so good tonight, no doubt you’ll blow anyone away with your unwavering beauty too. “You look amazing.” He says as he stands behind you.

Your eyes flick up in amusement, “That’s all?”

Jungkook lays his chin over your shoulder and grins softly, “Breathtaking, beautiful, ethereal, stunning—” You cut him off with an embarrassed laugh as you swat at his hands.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” You turn around and play with the buttons to his shirt, “You look really good too.”

“That’s all?” He grins back.

“Don’t push it, you make the compliments here.” You smirk and lay a sweet kiss over his lips, to which he happily and eagerly reciprocates.

He might have gotten a little carried away with it because he’s pushing you against the sink counter and kissing you stupid like he’s been doing these days. A soft muffled groan leaves him as he circles his hands over your hips and uses his grip to pull you into him until your lower pelvis is pressing against his own, dangerously close to his friend down there.

“Jungkook–” You sigh, “We’re gonna be late.” You say in-between his eager kisses.

“Don’t care, let me kiss you stupid.” Jungkook replies as he closes the distance between you two again, moving his lips passionately against yours.

You let out a sweet little moan as your fingers card through his hair, he doesn’t even care if you mess it up either. Looks are superficial and at the end of the day regardless of how people see him they’ll never know him or you and Jungkook’s okay with that.

Suddenly the sound of a knock interrupts the two of you and you pull away with a breathless sigh, “Yeah?” You call out.

“The car’s here and traffic’s looking pretty bad so it might be good if we leave right now. We got thirty minutes to get there since the red carpet’s already started.” Your manager says through the door.

You look at Jungkook with a soft smile as you lean up to smooch his lips, “We’ll meet you down there.”

No one expects you to come out hand in hand with Jungkook and he relishes in their shocked faces/reactions. He likes the thrill and can’t help but pull you closer by the waist with his arm tucked tightly around you. They yell and beg for pictures as you walk on by with him, ignoring their weird comments or stupid questions with no meaning.

“You wanna head inside baby?” He leans down to whisper in your ear after a few rounds of interviews and photos with the paps.

“Yeah I’m getting bored.” You hide your shoulder in his shoulder and follow as he guides you towards the venue with a hand splayed protectively over the small of your back.

He can tell you’re nervous about tonight with the way you sit with your hand tightly wrapped in his. You’re currently nominated for two major categories with one of them being album of the year. He’d be shitting himself too if he was going up against other talented singers. You’re gonna win though, you have to and if you don’t he’ll fight them to recount the votes.

“Easy baby,” he whispers low, “you got this okay?”

“I know but what if I lose?” You purse your lips, “I did really well this year so I’m hoping maybe that I do win.” Jungkook doesn’t like how sad and worried you look right now.

“If you don’t win I’ll buy the fucking thing.” Jungkook snorts, “No one had the highest record sales and streams like you did baby, you basically have this in the bag and everyone knows it.”

You huff out a laugh and look at him in disbelief, “Jungkook you can buy me all the things you want but you’re not buying me an award. Don’t be ludicrous.”

He shrugs carelessly, “I won’t if they just give it to you.” He says seriously as he leans over to kiss your cheek, “I believe in you no matter what.” You look at him with a precious smile and turn your attention back to the show.

Performance after performance passes until soon they’re announcing the winner for album of the year. You didn’t win the other category but Jungkook knows for sure you’ll win the next one. He can feel you nervously bouncing your knee and gripping his hand extra tight while the presenter takes their sweet time opening the envelope.

“And the award goes to,” pause, “y/n!” The crowd erupts into loud screams and cheers, hell Jungkook yells out as he looks at you with glee and helps you stand up.

“You won baby!” Jungkook hugs you tightly as he sways side to side, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

You happily laugh and bury your face in his neck, “I was so scared, oh my god.” You accept his hand as he helps you step up on stage so you could get your award. He stands back filled with pride as he watches you stride with confidence towards the main stage, walking past all these other people he could care less about.

After the show Jungkook’s surprised you choose to go back to the hotel instead of the afterparty some other singer invites you guys to. He doesn’t protest because he’s been dying to get away from all these people all night (you reprimanded him for suggesting that you guys leave right after you get your win). He walks hand in hand with you, smug as fuck because his girl bagged album of the year, just like he knew you would.

“Smile,” Jungkook holds his phone up, the flash going off as he hears you complain about not being ready, “you look fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snorts and shows you the picture he took.

You shoot him a pouty frown and take his phone, “Delete it I look bad,” you huff, “you better take a better one.”

“Whatever you say princess.” Jungkook takes a series of photos for your Instagram and his, you look so pretty in each one he takes, it’s disgusting how much he’s obsessing over them, “Damn you look sexy.”

“I always do, thank you very much.” You huff and sit back in your seat, enjoying the rest of the ride back.

Jungkook’s immediately on you when the two of you get to the hotel. He’s been wanting to pick up where you two left off earlier before your manager interrupted. If it was up to him you two wouldn’t have even gone to the damn show, he’s been dying to get you out of the dress the minute he saw you in it.

“Jungkook wait–mmph,” you’re cut off as he slips his lips over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face as he swallows your lips in a passionate-hungry kiss.

“Can’t,” Jungkook whispers, “been waiting all night baby.” He reaches behind you to push the door open, kicking it open all the way as he tugs you close and walks you backwards into the room.

“Moment I laid eyes on you I was gone, knew I had to have you.” Jungkook whispers as he leans down to bury his face in your shoulder and neck leaving a flurry of hot kisses all over, “Wanted to rip this shit off you.” He growls softly.

You whined in protest, body falling backwards when the back of your knees hit the lush bed, “Not my dress–”

“I’ll buy another—hundreds baby, don’t you know who your man is?” Jungkook smirks as he climbs over you, “Can I take it off you baby?” He knows he’s being a bit too eager right now, so naturally he wants to make sure you’re both on the same page.

“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I want you to take it off,” you trail off looking at him with those siren eyes, “make me yours.” You say as you let the strap of the dress slip off your shoulder invitingly.

Jungkook swallows hard, hands itching and trembling with excitement as he reaches up to pull the other strap, “You already are.” He muses.

“All the way,” you intertwine your hand with his with a precious little smile on your face, “want everyone to know who my man is.”

Fuck. Jungkook bites down on his lip and nods, “You want them to see my marks, want everyone to know who’s fucking you good?” He purrs and leans down to hover over you, lips against lips.

You nod with a cute ‘mmhm’, “I want it all, you promised you’d give it to me.” You softly pout, “Or was that a lie?”

“Fuck no, take it baby, ‘s all yours.” Jungkook hurriedly unbuttons his dress shirt, hastily throwing his belt off and peeling his slacks off, “Gonna give you exactly what you need till you can’t take it.” He says as he reaches for the zipper to the dress.

He all but rips the thing off of you and tosses it to the corner of the room (mind you it’s worth over twenty thousand). It’s the first time seeing you like this under him and he wants to make it special for you, a night you’ll never forget.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful baby.” He comments as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses along your chest and tummy,slowly slipping down the bed as he inches towards your panty covered pussy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, been thinking about all the ways I could have you,” he whispers and lays a kiss over your damp folds, “I didn’t know if I wanted to lay you on my bed or bend you over the car—you make it so hard to control myself, you have no idea.”

He sees the little tremor that passes over you when he says this. Your eyes are filled with want and need but like the stubborn little thing you are, you don’t say anything. Jungkook can’t have that either, he wants—no needs—to hear your sweet little voice beg for him.

“What’s the matter baby? You need something?” Jungkook softly croons as he peppers soft kisses against your inner thighs.

You bite on your lip and nod, “Need you.”

“But you already have me?” He grins, he can see the frustration bubbling up on your face.

“Here,” you softly breathe and reach down to tug your panties upwards, the material digs into your cunt giving him a perfect outline of it, “won’t you give it to me?” Your voice pulls him in like a siren singing to a sailor, he’s so entranced by it he almost feels like he’s gonna drool right now.

Jungkook wastes no time in yanking the damp materials down your thighs, not bothering to slide them completely off as he lifts your legs up. They’re pressed together with your soft pussy lips pressed together for him, tempting him with a glob of shiny slick running down your soft asscheeks.

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls as he leans in to smother his face with your cunt, tongue slipping through your drenched dewy folds to lap up the globs of slick.

You kick your feet in the air with a tiny whine, hips wiggling in an attempt to get him on your clit. He laps at you messily, circling the tip of his tongue over your throbbing bud that’s squished between your folds. The moan you let out sends shivers down his spine and he’s eager to hear more.

“So fucking good,” he pants, “jus’ like I imagined pretty baby.” He slurs out, pussy drunk already.

He can feel you reaching down to tug your panties all the way off but he can’t be bothered with stopping, not when your cunt’s gushing for him. Jungkook licks with vigor, swiping over and over against your tender clit. Your cunt opens up beautifully with a low squelch and your thighs begin trembling under his strong hold.

It gets harder with each passing second to contain himself, his cock feels like it’s literally about to burst. He pulls away from you and lets your shaky legs fall back as he tears your panties off completely.

“Gonna fuck you so good baby,” he climbs over you and reaches down to pull his heavy cock out, “can’t wait anymore.”

Your legs easily fall apart for him and make room as he shuffles closer between them. Jungkook sees the way your eyes go dark when they land below between his legs where his cock hangs heavy, swollen at the tip with beady trails of precum oozing from the head. You lick your lips and reach down to grip him in your soft hand, tentatively squeezing and stroking as if you were feeling him up.

“Like it baby? Gonna have my fat cock fill this little pussy up?” Jungkook has a sleazy grin splayed over his lips as he watches you, “Hm?”

“Yeah, ‘m not gonna let you cum anywhere but inside,” you deviously smile back like the nasty little minx you are, “till it’s dripping.”

He groans at the thought of that and kicks his hips forward, “Lemme in baby,” he slurs out, “slip it right in for me, there you go.” He purrs when he feels the head slide over your messy pussy, smearing your slick and his precum all over your cunt before you’re guiding him towards your winking sopping hole.

You bite down on your lip when the tip catches against your rim, it pops inside feeling you inch for inch slowly—cockhead spreading you open until he’s fully seated in your tight cunt. He can’t help but bite his lip with the way you’re squeezing him so tight—so snug and warm.

“So nice ‘n warm for me,” he hoarsely says as he rubs his hands along your sides, gently squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer until your pelvis is smacked tight against his own.

You let out the most sinful fucking moan ever when his cock slides deeper. Back arching and toes curling—he just loves how beautiful you look spread out under him with your pretty pussy snug against his cock. You release a stuttered moan as you reach for his hands and squeeze tightly.

“Hurts a little,” you say through gritted teeth, “why the fuck are you so fucking big?”

Jungkook nearly laughs at that because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that many curse words leave your mouth before. “You want me to pull out?”

“No don’t you dare,” you glare, “took me a minute to get this thing in and you want me to do it all over again?”

Jungkook looks back down with a low whistle, “Little pussy looks like it’s struggling to keep me all in baby, you sure you can handle it?” He teases as he reaches down to flick his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your hips jump and you whine out for him, “Stop playing around Jungkook,” you turn to hide your face in the soft sheets, “you know I can.” You mumble softly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

Jungkook bites down on his lip and rolls his hips slowly, “I know, you were made for this dick.” He smirks and lazily flicks his thumb pairing it with his slow but deep thrusts.

Your moans come out soft and breathy, everytime he backstrokes there’s a light sheen of slick covering his cock from the base near his pelvis. Your cunt makes these adorable little squelching noises as he pushes back in, balls lightly pressing against your taint when he buries himself back in. Occasionally he stops for a few seconds before he resumes his lazy pace.

He never imagined it’d feel this good with you, something about the way your little pussy refuses to let go for even a moment—squeezing him so tight it’s almost impossible to move. His own noises come out soft and husky, he can’t help the moans and soft sighs he lets out from the hot pleasure coiling in his stomach.

“Baby,” he gasps as he leans forward to hover over you with hands on either side of you, “this good?” He asks as he steadily increases the pace in his thrusts, hips smacking wetly against your ass and balls swinging now.

You nod eagerly, “More than good—mm, jus’ like that,” you sound blissed out, gaze half-lidded and dreamy as you stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Like that?” He groans, “Or like this?” Suddenly Jungkook snaps his hips up, a loud smack filling the room alongside a warbled cry of his name, “Oh you like that, don’t you? Baby likes it rough?” He purrs.

The slide’s fucking nasty with a mix of precum and your slick, he feels it slide down your taint where his balls slap repeatedly. The noise is filthy and sends pleasant tremors down his spine, “Oh, fuck,” he groans softly, “doing so good for me.”

Jungkook begins moving earnestly now, slamming his cock in and out of your bruised and battered cunt. Slick spills everywhere—the sheets, your inner thighs, his pelvis—it’s like music to his fucking ears right now. He can’t resist and leans down to smother your lips with his, swallowing every little cry and moan you let out.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you hold on tightly, he reaches down to wrap a leg around his waist as he manages to slide in deeper with the tip brushing over your g-spot. You let out a loud cry into his mouth and bury your fingers in his hair, your thigh starts trembling again only this time more intense than before.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He pulls away with a moan, “C’mon, be a good girl and make it messy.” He purrs against your lips while watching your expressions closely.

You stare into his eyes with unshed tears as more whimpers and whines escape, “So close,” you manage to wrap another shaky leg around him, “please, please, ‘m so close.” You whine out as your legs cross behind him on his back.

Jungkook doesn’t wanna disappoint or hold out any longer as he manages to stick a hand down between you to roll your clit between his fingers, “Cum for me, give it to me baby.” He growls softly as he plows into your tender and sore cunt.

The squelching gets louder and your moans turn into weak whimpers as you lie there and take it. His cock stirs at the sight of you nearing your end, he decides to give you a little extra push as he meanly pinches your clit. This causes you to cry out and go stiff under him, body shaking like a leaf as you gush around his cock.

“Jungkook,” you gasp repeatedly as your eyes flutter shut, face pinched in pleasure and overstimulation, “so good.” You slur out.

Jungkook lets your tender clit go and focuses on his own pleasure now that he’s got your orgasm out of the way. He grunts quietly and buries his face against your soft tits, mouthing at your sore stiff nipples. You squeeze around him tighter and tighter until the coil in his stomach snaps and he lets out a long moan of your name.

“Fuck..” Jungkook whispers breathlessly as he presses your pelvises close together, burying his cock balls deep till every last drop’s inside your battered pussy.

You moan quietly and let your legs fall from his hips, limbs feeling like jelly as you lay there panting softly. Jungkook rests his forehead against your tit and sighs deeply, “Are you okay love?” He asks softly.

“Yeah, jus’ really tired.” You whisper hoarsely and close your eyes, “Fuck, no offense but I feel really gross right now. Start a bath for me, pretty please?” You softly ask with a lip jutted out in a pout.

Jungkook of course can’t say no, “Course,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and lifts himself off of you, “I’ll be back.”

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆

Your company’s the first to make a statement confirming what everybody already knew, and then Yoongi followed shortly after. If Jungkook had thought it was bad before, people went ape shit now that it’s been officially confirmed by you two.

Before, they put all the heat on Jungkook because it was easier to blame him for it given the public’s opinion about him. It was easier to blame him because why not? He was some low-life boxer in their eyes. But then the attention shifted and people started targeting their hate towards you which pissed Jungkook off to no end.

Why the fuck was everyone so invested in what you did and didn’t do? Why was it that they felt entitled to dictate who you date and don’t date? Jungkook really needed these people to get jobs or mind their business because clearly they had no life outside of hating on a stranger for finding their own happiness.

He saw those vicious comments people left all over your posts and he fucking hated that he couldn’t do shit to stop them from coming back, pissed him off even more because his girlfriend didn’t deserve this. You deserved the world and more, not this shit.

So, Jungkook did the next best thing he could think of. He started taking names and screenshotting profiles before turning them over to a attorney he hired, if he couldn’t beat these stupid fuckers himself he’d let them have it with his private team. He made headlines after people started noticing that he was suing the people opening their big ass mouths.

“Baby, it’s okay really.” You softly complain, “You don’t have to waste your time with these weird people, I’m sure they’ll get over themselves if we ignore them.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry baby but I can’t sit there and watch these fuckers call you degrading names and demand shit like they know you—seriously who the fuck do these people think they are?” He growls under his breath as he paces back and forth, “And that’s not even the gist of it, these idiots are lucky I don’t catch them out in public because I’ll beat the fuck out of them.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you curl up on the sofa with a sad smile, “I know, but you can’t go around beating up millions of people for leaving a hate comment. It’s normal, this happens all the time I learned to live with it.” You’re trying to sound sure of yourself but he doesn’t buy it.

“Baby look at me.” He comes over and kneels down in front of you, “This shit is not normal nor is it ever okay, fuck them for making you feel like this. I hate seeing you look so dejected reading all those hateful comments,” he takes your hands in his and kisses them, “just lemme take care of it. Please?”

You look conflicted like you’re not sure if you should say yes but with a little more coaxing you finally sigh, “Fineee, just don’t do anything crazy. I don’t need my boyfriend in jail, thank you very much.”

Jungkook cracks a smile and buries his face in your lap with a happy sigh, “I promise baby, if I go to jail, who else is gonna cook you fried rice at three in the morning? Who else is gonna give you their black card?” He teases.

“Yeah, yeah now come here.” You open your arms for him, “You know I only need you and that’s all.”

Jungkook kisses that soft pout off your face as he nods, “I know you do baby, didn’t think otherwise.” He grins and lays his head on your chest with closed eyes.

The two of you sit there in silence together with the TV playing low in the background. Jungkook for the most part behaves himself despite being so close to your soft tits that are poorly hidden under your camisole. He can literally dip his head in there and get a sneak peek, maybe even a mouthful of titties—

“Jungkook, really?” You sigh, “You’re such a pervert.”

“You like it,” Jungkook winks as he mouths at your tit through your little camisole, “can I?” He knows you can’t resist and judging by the way your thighs press together, “Pretty pleaseee baby?” He gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster, all a man wants is some titty loving, that’s all.

You don’t even finish saying yes before he’s diving in and tugging your camisole down so that your tits spill out and into his face. His eyes light up and he immediately wraps his lips around a nipple, suckling gently as he laves his tongue over the stiff bud in his mouth. You quietly sigh and sink into the sofa with him following as he rolls his tongue over your nipple and flicks it repeatedly.

“You’re such a baby you know that?” You murmur, “But you’re my handsome bun,” the nickname has him perking up, “my strong, big, handsome bun.” You coo softly while stroking his hair slowly.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the warm feeling, his sucking slows down until he’s barely moving his tongue anymore and simply suckling on your teat. “You like hearing how strong you are don’t you baby—love knowing you can easily beat someone’s ass for me?”

He nods pathetically with a low groan, “Of course you do,” you softly coo, “it’s why I picked you, knew you’d be able to take care of me the way I deserve.” You scratch his scalp lightly, moaning softly when he makes another noise, “Treat me so good like the princess I am.”

That he does. Jungkook is in heaven right now, he feels like he can just pass out right here and now with a titty in his mouth. He can’t help but shudder as he slips into a dream-like state, “Go ahead baby, just rest yeah? I got you.” You softly say while cradling his head and going lax under him, “Take what you need.”

And he does. He ends up falling asleep, one of the best fucking naps ever with your tit still in his mouth even when he wakes up. He so needs to do this another time, shit’s relaxing and a good stress reliever. Jungkook doesn’t think you’ll have any complaints either.

It’s a busy week for Jungkook because he has a match coming up in a few weeks and Yoongi has him completely locking in at the gym for training. You don’t mind it and being the best girlfriend you are you come as support during his sessions. You also confirmed his suspicions that Seokjin was a secret stan because his hyung fanboys out when he meets you.

“Hyung stop it.” Jungkook glares, “Leave her alone before I punch you.”

Seokjin scoffs, “No way, I get to meet my idol and you wanna ruin it for me? Where’s my respect, you brat.” This guy—needless to say Jungkook’s shooting daggers at his hyung the entire time he’s there.

The real challenge comes during the press conference/weigh-in Jungkook goes to like he always does. It starts off normal, the guy doesn’t trash talk and Jungkook’s not one for it either unless the fighter’s cocky then yeah he’ll put them in their place but this guy’s alright which he appreciates. It’s the fucking reporters that get Jungkook heated sometimes.

“Jeon, how do you feel about this upcoming match? Any thoughts on your opponent?” One asks with his recorder held out.

“I’m excited like always, I know potential when I see it so I’m hoping to have a great match with my opponent. He looks like he can give me a run for my money.” He laughs softly into the mic.

Another reporter asks something but it’s directed at his opponent so Jungkook just nods off listening to the two. Out of the corner of his eye he sees someone laughing when he looks at him, and at first he doesn’t pay attention and just keeps his focus on the reporters. But then this guy comes to the front and Jungkook just knows he’s about to hear the stupidest shit in his life.

“Jeon, so how are you and your girl doing? Heard the news and wanted to congratulate you.” He says with this sleazy grin.

It rubs him the wrong way but Jungkook keeps his temper in check as he forces himself to politely answer, “Good, thank you.” He curtly replies.

He hears Yoongi clear his throat next to him with a fierce glare, “Let’s try and keep this about the match, he's not here to answer questions about his life, this isn’t a personal interview.”

You’d think that after being called out like that he’d stop there and move on but no, this guy’s a piece of work. “I mean I was just askin’ cause I was kinda surprised with the news since you know, she been ran through by the entire industry.” This gets Jungkook to react as he pushes his chair back, causing it to fly backwards as he slowly stalks forward.

“New guy every month—say, you the new boy of the month Jeon?” He smirks.

Jungkook doesn’t even think before he lunges at him, he hears Yoongi call his name as Namjoon springs into action to get Jungkook back but it’s too late.

Jungkook’s fist connects with the side of this man’s jaw and sends him flying to the ground as Jungkook lifts his (now) bloody fist up to strike him again with a sick sound. He’s so far gone right now he doesn’t even feel when Namjoon yanks him off the guy.

“Jungkook! Calm the fuck down and get off him!” Namjoon yells through the chaos as reporters scramble to get shots and videos of this.

“No, get off me hyung! Let me fuckin’ go where is this little shit? If you’re such a fuckin’ man come say it to my face one more fucking time, I dare you! Say it!” He yells as he struggles against Namjoon’s strong hold.

It takes three guys to get Jungkook away from the reporter, Yoongi deals with the rest but Jungkook’s so fucking mad he can’t even sit right now. He’s pacing back and forth in the little backroom they got him in as Namjoon watches with concern in his eyes. He hasn’t tried to calm him down because even he knows the danger of trying to talk to him while he’s this mad.

The door slams open and Yoongi steps in, “Jungkook what the fuck was that?! That guy went to the hospital, do you even realize the mess you caused? He’s gonna press charges–”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Jungkook interrupts, stunning Yoongi into silence, “He fucking disrespected my girlfriend thinking that shit was funny. I could really give two fucks if he wants to press charges or not!” Namjoon watches the two in silence, but he’s ready to jump in if Jungkook turns on Yoongi or something.

Yoongi, who usually has something smart to say for everything, for once doesn’t have shit to say. He just stands there watching Jungkook kick the chair over and pace around the room furiously. “Kid, look, I get you. I would do the same too if I was in your place but this shit isn’t worth it. You can’t be letting them get to you like this, that’s what they want.”

“Well he fucking got what he wanted.” Jungkook scoffs with a humorless laugh.

“Just go home, I’ll deal with the press.” Yoongi sighs as he rubs his temples, “Please, for once just do what I say.”

The news is bad, there’s a shit ton of articles coming out within the next hour about how Jungkook attacked the reporter and left him a bloody puddle on the ground. It’s all over the place and there’s a shit ton of people commenting about it on online forums and comment sections. One side praises him for defending you, and then the other criticizes his inability to keep himself under control but Jungkook doesn’t care.

The REAL cherry on top is when you post your response to the news—you use that video of Latto saying “thank you to my man” along with a cute selfie of you cuddled up in bed with Jungkook. Even you made it clear as day you didn’t give a fuck about that guy either.

Your fans who had previously had negative reactions to your dating news were coming around too in favor of Jungkook. They said shit like “free JK he did nothing wrong” and voiced their support for him. Some were even harassing the reporter who had dared to say those things about you, demanding that he lose credibility as a reporter amongst other things.

Jungkook thinks it’s going to be okay because that guy totally fucking deserved it (and more).

The weeks fly by and the day of his big match comes—the biggest one yet because bets are high and on top of that Jungkook has a winning streak to keep up if he wants them to give him the title of “undefeated”. Following the conference nothing really happened, the guy turned out to have some shady shit on him so he decided not to press any charges in the end. God bless Yoongi for digging shit up.

With that being dealt with Jungkook could finally put his entire focus on the match. He had heard the entire arena sold out and some of the richest people on earth were attending. This was a huge deal and he had everything to lose. Jungkook was confident in his win but this guy was also the deal too, which only means Jungkook has to keep his guard up.

“You ready kid? This is about to be the biggest fight of your career.” Yoongi says as he comes to sit in front of Jungkook, “You’re gonna have to kick it up a notch this match, the guy’s good but he isn’t better than you.”

He nods at that because Jungkook’s confident in his fighting abilities, “I know hyung, I have a really good feeling about tonight.” He smiles, “Don’t worry about it, I got this under control.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you.” Yoongi grins back as he pats his back, “Now get out there and make me proud.”

The arena buzzes with life when Jungkook enters the room, he’s hit with flashing lights in every direction as people scream and chant his name. He’s getting worked up again as the adrenaline slowly kicks in. Jungkook makes his way up to the ring, passing over your section where you’re sitting with Namjoon and Seokjin.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, blocking out the crowd and music as he tries to focus. He can do this, he can do this. He will win, for you.

The guy packs a good punch and each round gets progressively harder and harder to fight him off. During one of the breaks in-between the rounds, he slumps into his corner as Yoongi immediately springs over to help him with his mouth guard.

“He’s tiring you out Kook, he’s gonna wait until you’re low on energy to give it his all.” Yoongi warns, “You need to match his pace instead of wasting your energy so early.”

Jungkook pants tiredly as he shakes his head, “Hyung he’s gonna knock me out.” He says deliriously, filled with pain and adrenaline.

“No he isn’t, because you’re not going to let him, you hear me? You’re going to get back out there and show that punk what you’re made of.” Yoongi sternly replies, “Do it for the pretty girl waiting for your win.”

Jungkook’s eyes snap over to where you sit, you look really scared and on top of that worried. He sees the way your knee bounces and how you pick at your fingernails. This isn’t what he wants to see.. This isn’t what he wants at all.

“Okay.” Jungkook grunts with renewed energy, “Fuck, okay.”

Yoongi pats his back gently and steps away from the ring, “Remember: match his pace.”

Jungkook rises to his feet and gets ready for the next round. He only has a few more before a winner has to be announced or the match is tied. Only one of them will walk out a champion, and it’s going to be him.

He takes Yoongi’s advice and matches this guy��s pace, he observes his every move and studies the combos he throws out. The guy’s a corner tech type so Jungkook avoids the edges and keeps him in the middle. He also notices that he goes for uppercuts and rear hooks.

As Jungkook prepares to strike he loses his footing and the guy takes the chance to hook him across the face. It sends Jungkook to the ground as he falls with a groan of pain. “Fuck.” He whispers.

He’s not sure how much longer he can keep up, can he even get up? His vision is beginning to blur a little and his hearing’s a little hazy too. He barely even makes out the referee counting down to a knockout.

Through the blurriness he sees Yoongi run over to the side of the net, “Get up, kid! Fuck, c’mon Jungkook get up!” He desperately says.

Jungkook wants to, but everything hurts so much and he’s so tired right now. He weakly tries to get up, barely managing to hold up on all fours as he pants heavily with blood dripping down onto the mat below. He lifts his head up slowly and suddenly the world stops.

You’re standing there with tears in your eyes, your mouth’s moving rapidly (most likely pleading with him to get up). Jungkook doesn’t like that, he swore he’d never let you feel that way again after you attended his first match and saw how bad it was. Fuck.

“Four…three..”

Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.

Jungkook grits his teeth and stumbles forward, barely managing to catch himself on the nets as he looks back at his opponent with renewed strength. The countdown stops and the match continues, he is going to win this if that’s the last thing he does.

He lunges forward and the guy doesn’t expect it coming as Jungkook manages to get him cornered before he lets loose. He rains a slew of punches, too fast for the guy to keep up who doesn’t expect him to suddenly be this fast.

Jungkook feels like he blacks out during all this, landing hit after hit until he’s finished with one last uppercut and then everything stops. He feels a pair of hands pull him back as the referee begins the countdown. Jungkook stands there heaving as he watches tiredly.

“..Two..one..” The bell suddenly rings and the crowd cheers.

He did it. Holy shit, he did it!

Both Yoongi and Namjoon rush into the ring together, bringing him into their arms as they jump with joy. “You fucking did it!” Namjoon smiles happily.

“Where’s…where’s y/n?” Jungkook blearily asks as he looks around.

“She’s right there,” Yoongi points out, “she’s still here Kook.”

He pulls away from the hug and trudges over to the net, holding it up and holding his arm out for you, “C’mere baby.” He calls out.

You immediately stumble over and climb into the ring with him, sinking right into his arms when he tugs you close. “I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again! You hear me? I don’t ever wanna see you like that.” You whimper and cup his face, “Oh Jungkook..”

He smiles softly and leans down to kiss you passionately in front of everyone. You easily melt into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. When he pulls back he looks around with a stupid grin on his face, “Fucking won but everything hurts.”

You frown cutely and ignore the reporters that begin to swarm the two of you. Jungkook keeps you tucked into his side as he answers their questions, “Feels really good I can’t lie, even if I feel like shit right now though. But I’m just glad I won, I've been wanting to dedicate this win to my beautiful girl.” He smiles down at you and kisses the top of your head.

They start throwing more questions at him after that. They’re all kind of the same regarding their relationship because they’re just dying to know all about his relationship to you. They even try to ask you some questions but luckily Yoongi intervenes when it begins to get out of control.

“Alright back up, give Jungkook some space.” Yoongi says as he pushes some reporters away, “You ready to go Kook?”

“Yeah, get me the fuck outta here.” Jungkook groans as he follows after his hyungs with you close by.

Yoongi and the others help Jungkook get into an ice bath as soon as they get into the back room. You work on cleaning the blood off his face and icing his wounds, “Does it hurt? Well, more than usual?” You softly ask.

“No babe I’m fine.” Jungkook replied calmly as he closed his eyes, “The ice feels really good, I’m sore all over.”

You hum, “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will.” He hums back and sinks into the ice with a relaxed sigh.

The cold sensation on his body is working wonders on his sore muscles. It feels like he’s living the dream right now. He doesn’t think he wants to even party after this, sure a big win calls for a celebratory dinner or something but right now cuddling and going to sleep sounds way better.

Yeah, way better.

“I thought you were too sore to do anything, what happened to that?” You laugh softly while looking down at him.

Jungkook’s pout deepens, “I can still move my hips, see?” He says and demonstrates with a little thrust up, “Pleaseeee! For me baby? I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts or something.”

You look at him in disbelief, “You literally just got beat up what do you mean please? Look at you! Why the heck is sex even on your mind right now?”

“Because, you looked so sexy on that billboard on our way back here.” He huffs casually leaving out the part where he raged because everyone can see you and no doubt millions have.

Not that he’s petty but he’s petty, he wanted to tear that shit down and keep it for himself. “That’s not the point,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow, “I can still move and it’s not like my cock got beat up too.”

“You are so nasty.” You laugh softly and sit back on his lap, “If I ride you will that make you happy, hm?”

It’s comical the way his hair bounces when he nods vigorously, “Yes.” He says without hesitation, “It’s like a reward.” He grins toothily.

You roll your eyes at him with a sigh, “You’re so spoiled,” you mumble while reaching down to help him pull his boxers down.

“Wait!” Jungkook looks up at you with pouty eyes, “Can you..?” He tugs at the loose shirt you’re wearing.

Immediately you know what he wants and you nod, “My baby deserves it doesn’t he?” You softly say while tossing the garment somewhere else, “Did so good out there,” you purr and lean over him.

His eyes sparkle as he nods, “I did,” he whispers and licks his lips, “means I get a reward right?”

“Yes you do.” You gently coax him closer as you lean down to press your soft tit to his lips, “Take it, ‘s all yours.” He latches on without wasting another second.

Your lips part as a soft breathy moan escapes, your soft hand reaches down to fish his hard cock out of his boxers. He shudders when you start stroking him, it’s slow and sensual as you gather bits of precum with your thumb and slowly work your way down around the shaft.

His balls sit heavy and they ache with need to empty themselves in you. Jungkook has to fight the urge to buck his hips as he accidentally grazes his teeth against your bud.

You yelp softly and he pulls away apologetically, “Easy, not so hard.” You softly chastise.

“Sorry.” Jungkook murmurs and presses a kiss on your tit before moving to the opposite one.

“Just sit back and relax baby,” you murmur, “I got you.”

You position the head at your weeping pussy, slapping it repeatedly in small taps until the tip catches on your hole. Jungkook holds his breath as you begin to slide down on his sensitive cock until you're bottoming out with your ass meeting his thighs.

“Good?” You softly whisper.

Jungkook nods and goes back to suckling on your nipple in peace. You rock yourself in his lap steadily like you’re scared you’re gonna hurt him but Jungkook encourages you with a little buck. This makes you sink down in his lap with a lewd moan, his cock shifting deeper inside.

“Use me,” Jungkook quietly pipes up, “I can take it.” His breath hot and heavy over your pebbled nipple.

“You sure? What if I hurt you?” You murmur.

“I’ll be fine baby, I’ll let you know if something hurts. Please?” He opens his mouth to take your nipple back in.

You shiver and bite your lip still a bit worried but you end up giving in. You slowly pick up the pace, switching from grinding to bouncing. There’s a low smack here and there but it’s nothing too crazy because you’re going as gentle as you can.

Jungkook’s lips tighten around your nipple with every grind and bounce. Your pussy tugs at his cock with the right amount of pressure sending shivers down his spine. He moans softly and moves one hand up to grip your bouncing tit.

“Fuck you look good like this,” he breathes out in pleasure.

You groan softly as he squeezes your tit in his strong hand, massaging the soft mound of flesh afterwards. He pulls away to push both tits together and buries his face between them with a happy sigh, “Never wanna leave, I could die a happy man like this sweetheart.”

“You’re just a perv.” You chuckle with a moan.

“For you.” Jungkook grins and then lays back, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.” He notices that your bouncing has slowed down.

You glare cutely at him and sit up, “I don’t like doing the work in case you haven’t noticed.” You mumble while grinding back and forth over his cock, “You’re lucky I love you enough to do this.”

His eyes widen when he hears the words “love” and “you” in one sentence. It makes his sappy little heart beat with joy and pride hearing those words leave your lips, he can’t help but buck his hips upward eagerly.

“Jungkook..!” You gasp throwing your head back.

“Say it again baby,” he huffs as he uses his strong grip to haul you up and plop you back down on his lap, “I wanna hear it–” He cuts off with a breathy moan.

“I love you.” The words make him groan louder as he slaps his hips upward.

“Fuck I love you too,” he moans, “so, so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.” He whispers and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

You bite your lip hard and throw your head back with a whine, “ ‘m coming.” You whimper.

“Oh you like hearing that don’t you, knowing damn well that you got me wrapped around your fingers.” Jungkook huffs with exertion as he fucks into you harder.

“Y-Yes, love it so much knowing you’re mine,” you mewl softly and grind on him, “fuck, fuck..!” Your pussy clamps down and suddenly you’re coming all over him in slow waves of harsh pleasure.

Jungkook pulls you down for a passionate kiss as he holds you down against his pelvis. A few more rolls has him coming too, cock throbbing and twitching. He lays there panting heavily with hazy eyes while you whine about him being careful.

“Don’t put pressure on your side,” you grumble, “I told you we shouldn’t have fooled around.”

“I’m fine, see? Nothing’s wrong.” Jungkook laughs and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, “Now tell me you love me again. Wanna hear it from your pretty lips.” He mumbles and traces over your bottom lip.

“I love you.” You fondly sigh.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“You’re so annoying! I’m going to shower.” You huff and stomp off with cum leaking down your inner thighs.

Jungkook lays there with a soft grin as he watches you go, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too though.” Forever.

And ever.

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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whytheylosttheirminds · 5 months

Text

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally.

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was.

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :)

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here.

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission.

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could.

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill.

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously.

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window.

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt.

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter.

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

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seiwas · 9 months

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grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems.

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends.

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season.

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer.

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head.

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything.

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you.

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers.

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose.

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you.

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath.

He continues to stare, unmoving.

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward.

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first.

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store.

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils.

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?”

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking.

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.”

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion.

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper.

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best.

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.”

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch.

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves.

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.”

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be.

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.”

You most certainly were not expecting that, either.

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.”

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little.

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again.

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye.

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.”

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet.

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils.

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.”

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season.

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly.

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.”

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out.

He furrows his brows, confused.

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this.

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.”

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso fluff #jjk x you #jjk fluff #choso x y/n #jjk xyou #shotorus.writes #jjk #choso #im also still too lazy to do the banner #ill add it tomorrow #if this doesn't work out i'll still write the longer fic someday!! just wont be a priority!!#but i have lots of themes i kinda wanna touch on alr

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buttercupblu · 1 month

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Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Session 2 of 10|Previous Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.1k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone would be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone was brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely couldn't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise was needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lacked yourself—otherwise, they wouldn't last a second with Gojo.

It'd be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also didn't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else could take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there it goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she couldn't handle him but because she was your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually cared about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she didn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else.

Burdening her was completely out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'? You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really had to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she could was her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you're quick to blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or were Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth was killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach put the final nail in the coffin as she reminded you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you needed help would be silly because technically it was true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break long ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It was better than nothing because if you couldn't function, Gojo couldn't be cared for.

And when you really think about it, who better to fill in for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock since you started at the ward, She's had your back, sticking with you through tough times at work when staff constantly dipped in and out of the facility like a rotating door after being unable to handle the job.

A real day one.

Next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patiently in check.

It'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest."

She's too kind and right in more ways than one.

"Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend, you think?"

Your eyes roll—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

You don't know whether to joke back or wave her off, softly smiling at her concern instead before nodding. You vow to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges. Almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks on the interstate, hogging the road, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheerful nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers, lulling you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of the melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the foamy bubbles, when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from surprise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike swept into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body said nothing was. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out heading straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean floors due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you were used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you needed to. The truth is painfully clear.

It's disrespectful even to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong, and your heart feels as if it'll burst from your chest any moment now just thinking about it. Crushing guilt wrapped you in its clutches, but it was nothing compared to the pain you might've caused.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, heart beating into your ears making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet with each step until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth becoming suddenly dry mouth when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you as attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a hammer.

Someone as kind as her, so full of light, love, and joy, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil was still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he tugs and pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and you can feel the tense stares. The unspoken judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen?

You don’t know if the murmurs are real or only in your head, but the effect is all the same, making you wish you could completely vanish. You stand like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

Gojo brims with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. As if he's daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face making you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, something...uncertain lurks behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knew he had done something wrong.

Words escape you, as if anything even needs to or could be said. But fear and guilt soon turn to anger and threatens to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust.

You are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself.

Your fists clench as you hold back tears.

What was done was done. And someone needed to pay.

But you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at the results of what happened the last time you decided to punish Gojo. All of your actions, even now, rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

You push down the knot growing in your stomach and turn away to follow the medics.

Your friend needed you more than you needed revenge.

And Gojo didn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it meant risking your job or even your life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbered thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained makes you nervous—you don't want anyone else to get hurt and Gojo knows that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm.

But it's an obviously losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

He sees no one else in the room, eyes locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it'll never be enough. Not even the goddamn military. Gojo...is the strongest, after all.

"Stop this."

Your cry freezes the room, plunging everything into a tense silence.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

You take a deep, shaky breath, silently apologizing to Yuko.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic.

But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes in surprise, amazement even, then smiles.

The submission in your voice sounded better than he could ever imagine. Like sweet music feeding his already inflated ego.

The guards exchange uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, and it's evident that restraining him forever is not possible.

And you know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this was your doing. Your mess to clean up.

You squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling to the guards to let him go. They hesitate, then reluctantly agree and step back, leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

You close your eyes and breathe, hating the idea of looking at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. And everyone else in the ward.

Gojo's satisfied grin says it all.

Let's get this over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head off if he wanted to.

Still Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, surprisingly, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And there was no need to ask why. The entire ward shot daggers at you any time someone walked by now.

She reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then patted your back as if to say, "lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding the half-pill out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering, he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting.

You took a deep breath and placed them both on your tongues, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity to feel you and closed his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed without needing the water you had set aside, a confusing mix of emotions churning as it spread through the rest of your body.

He made good on his promise and swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing look. And damn him, he's probably still thinking about it.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo. A stereotypical hint lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers. And laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around the face him, furious. Debating on whether to slap him, kick him, or knock his teeth out. Or be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water. A move you know would do no good but show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny. You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend."

His laugh fades, smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches.

...the hell is this??

You squint at him.

The words were muttered, reluctant, but there they were, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races when you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue rather than waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Now you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that. Stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he truly meant them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns, along with that smile that twists your stomach into knots.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it was, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind other than frustration.

Damn it, you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your little kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." He finishes with a wink.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory. A fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands, the jarring evidence of him not as invincible as he seems. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," and he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. But it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers into the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and feel sick even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward, lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water but the rustling fabric as he pulls the shirt over his head and pants to the ground sends heat to your cheeks.

He certainly isn't lacking in physique, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. So cute trying to hide away your thoughts.

You toss in his loofah, "Well...go on. Your water's ready." But Gojo can only grin, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Still managing to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the swirling conflict in your easy heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he just refuses to turn off. Everything was always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. He picks up a handful and actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away.

His pale eyes flutter, settling on you in a curious way.

He leans, arms flexing over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with this ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him managing to still be so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society, tf did you think??", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with bubbles.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster. Still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

But then again, this was your job...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption, no matter how twisted they seem.

Loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before gently washing his back.

He sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of his marked skin between the foam and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to the dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won. Evidence of his past before corruption. Everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

This is another first for you, this level of care. Gojo usually just hops into the shower and takes care of himself as you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably gets stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs and making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his lower region, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery so he can handle this himself.

You ignore his comment, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. You're humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

You want to scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

The water feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" his velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, down his sides, rhythm almost hypnotic and making the man's head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, to try to regain your slipping control, but you're in a losing battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

ANd God, he has to bite his lip at your touch that feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again. You've been hit not once, but twice in a day—a new personal record.

Instinctively, you reach up to shield yourself, the loofah slipping from your hand, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream prepares to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand and places a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." He swipes a lone droplet hanging from your eyelash. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, nerves on fire as you're forced into this close proximity for the second time today. Inches away from his face that softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better but he never felt threatened in the first place.

Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach. His finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

"Now," his eyes flicker to your bottom lip, "You're so very good at your job, Nurse." He smoothly pulls it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to my strength, let alone deal with me yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel.

"You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of it, any of this.

You hesitate, unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will fare against me then, hmm?"

Gojo knows he's a prodigy, yet he still manages to surprise himself sometimes, eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter. He almost feels a prick from the daggers you throw with your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that, Nurse," and he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

Gojo slightly tilts his head.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing.

Instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, salacious, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark. Wondering what his idea of "fun" was like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, instead you burn between your legs.

Fuck, you've got to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. Gruffing, you lower to your knees and begin drying the floor of his messes, hoping to distract you from your questionable sanity.

Rustling fabric fills the chamber as he dries off, and when you figure it's safe, you look up to a nude Gojo. Still dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Ah, let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

Standing on your tiptoes to reach it, a sliver of your midriff peeked out, but what captured his attention most was the way the sun rays washed your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of them between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your sentiment was...odd.

This was the first time anyone had cared to do something so simple for Gojo. And the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict and Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

"Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?"

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward now, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off and who could blame her?

You were the anomaly he chose to show mercy to and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova." She cleared her throat and did a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way the stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you scramble to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall taking deep breaths, completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, Yuko, flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's all just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurer in the shadows awaiting your every move.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, deep-diving the web for information on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

The man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible. Conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own sanity. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax, sleeping eluding you and mind wandering to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to seem him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr.

to keep it reader-friendly, yk?

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n.

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭.

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou

#bluuharem #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #Satoru Psyche

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delulujuls · 6 months

Text

loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

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ozzgin · 10 months

Note

Girl I love Daitou but I'm ngl I need more of Yazuya😭 if you can, can you write headcanons about him please? I'd appreciate it thank you <3

Yandere!Yakuza x Reader Headcanons

Ultimate dating guide and palate cleanser featuring the gangster boys (Kazuya and Daitou). For those that have been left hanging for proper romance.

Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Tags: @swagbucksjester @lucienbarkbark @moonieper @nu-vino @vee-love @tamaki-simp @pinkazelma

[Yakuza Masterlist]

Kazuya

Kazuya was raised in a brothel, surrounded by women, so he is much more knowledgeable than the average man when it comes to feminine matters. Similar to someone who grew up having sisters, you can talk to him about anything and everything and not only will he be empathetic towards your problems, but he might offer tips and tricks you didn’t even know about. Not too shocking when he’s already heard multiple variations of whatever is bothering you.

The downside to his upbringing is that intercourse has always felt terribly transactional to him. He has a hard time associating it with intimate relationships. He will flirt a lot with you, but despite all the sexual innuendos, he won’t actually do anything until later in the relationship. He struggles with the irrational worry that sex will somehow taint the quality of your bond, making it feel cheap. Dating you has helped him realize that such things can be done out of love as well.

He is extremely affectionate and well mannered when dealing with you. Which may sometimes cause you to forget there’s a reason him and Daitou are good friends. While he isn’t as ill-tempered as his younger self, it doesn’t take much to anger him still. It’s a rare occurrence for you to witness it, but when he has it out for someone, he nearly matches Daitou in ruthlessness. He's very prideful and protective and will not hesitate to crush whoever challenges him or messes with you.

If you have a group of (girl)friends, you can confidently bring him with you with the only risk being that he’ll steal your spotlight. He can charismatically slide his way into any kind of conversation and you can hardly believe that this is the same man cracking gross jokes over his latest murder to his fellow criminal buddies. You might consider him a social chameleon, having no trouble adapting to any environment.

Smokes like a chimney and you have to slap the cigarette out of his hand sometimes because he’ll just light one up anywhere (including your bedroom).

Now this one is for the ones that are into it: God forbid you accidentally call him Daddy because he’ll ride that high until the end of time. He loves the idea and will tease about it with every opportunity. “Terrible weather today. Should Daddy drive you to work instead?”, or “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” for when you’re out in public.

Daitou

One neat detail about being with Daitou is that you get to see a lot of things you took for granted in a new light. Whatever you assumed was a common experience for everyone, like having a picnic or going to the amusement park, is utterly foreign to him. He was raised by the Yakuza and barely interacted with anyone before meeting Kazuya; civilian past times were never presented to him. So you get to witness his shocked and delighted expression as he tries all these things with you.

Thankfully you don’t have to worry about teaching him the…intimate aspects of a relationship. Kazuya has that covered. And Daitou seems to be a rather fast learner, because he’s incredibly gentle and careful with you. Part of it is due to his own fear of messing it up. He’s only ever been good at breaking and killing people. Despite that, he loves you so much. He has to be the best boyfriend for your sake. Surely these hands of his can do more than just damage.

He might actually be a little too eager to learn the ropes. More than once you’ve walked in on him reading a graphic manga and nearly choked, mumbling an apology for interrupting his…activity. He’ll look at you with a confused expression, completely unbothered and wondering why you’re so embarrassed. He was flipping through the pages for ideas, given he’s never had any kind of experience himself. Ah. That explains the random kinky gestures he’s started doing without shame or doubt. You’ll have to do some tweaking in the near future.

This may come as a surprise, but Daitou is exceptionally good at household chores like cleaning and cooking. Registering with the Yakuza involves a mandatory apprenticeship of several years where you do menial tasks for your higher ups. Additionally, the time he served in jail has left him with a lot of discipline and organization. Somewhere between adorable and comical is how you’d describe the sight of him kneeling on the floor and carefully folding the kitchen towels while waiting for the stew to simmer.

Daitou isn’t exactly what you’d traditionally call jealous. His only frame of reference is Boss, thus he will treat you with the same kind of loyalty and dedication. You wouldn’t expect a mere nobody to walk up to the Head of the Family, so anyone approaching you will, similarly, be violently kept away until their intentions are clear. You are his most prized possession, after all. He’d do anything for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #yandere original character #yandere oc #male yandere x reader

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earth4angels · 3 months

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

modern!jacaerys x f!reader

── semi angst? jacaerys is super in love, gets teased about it! one sided?? has an open ending, open for interpretation, not edited.

summary: over the course of an year, he watches her from afar, admiring the small details, falling in love with a stranger that does not know he exists. and as the final year of school almost at its end, he questions whether he wasted time or if it’s the perfect time to recover lost time.

a/n: short drabble and very rushed bc i just needed to post this before my idea died, and it’s a little sad with some fluff sorry jace nation, listen to beautiful stranger by laufey

jace tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @ilovequeen978 @melsunshine

The wind blew through his face hard enough for his long trences of hair to fall into his mouth and his eyes. He sighed irritably, his hands pushing his hair back while he took the strands that ended in his mouth away.

He checked his watch, biting his lip when he realized he was running late to school - his mother would surely kill him if she found out. He always rejected their personal driver to take him to school as he did not like bragging about his status so he relied on public transportation to blend in with his classmates.

He never whined about it either, he loved the scenery, but most especially he loved to watch you.

You were beautiful, your hair always styled in bows, clips, your ears were always covered by your headphones blocking the noise of the outside as he would always see you reading. He studied every single detail of yours, the slight crinkle of your eyes when you read something interesting, the way you constantly licked your lips as your eyes darted through the pages of your book. He saw you always with pens as you highlighted or wrote in your journal pieces he would figure grabbed your attention.

Jacaerys admired you from afar, and often found himself dreaming about you when the day ended.

“I don’t know why you haven’t talked to her. You’re Jacaerys Velaryon, heir of your family’s business after your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan nudged him as the said heir only shook his head, his curls bouncing, he looked away to the window to watch you cross the street, your long hair blowing delicately against the wind.

“It’s not like it matters, school ends in two weeks. We will all graduate, and I will be moving miles away to attend law school. It wouldn’t work,” Jace muttered, his hands rubbing against each other, a nervous tic of his.

Cregan groaned childishly, “You depress me Velaryon. The gods made you with such looks you could pull anyone and you’re wasting it on a complete stranger? Someone you haven’t even made moves on for an entire year?!”

Jace glared at him before muttering again, “A year and a half… actually.”

“Seven hells mate. You have gone absolutely mad,” Cregan shook his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his idiotic lovesick best friend who hung his head.

Jacaerys did want to speak to you, maybe he could’ve asked what book you read or make a random question about what train stop took him to the academy. He didn’t know, but maybe he just could’ve just said something to get you to look at him. Time was clicking and he didn’t know how much longer he should wait.

He saw you enter the train again, this time a fluffy hat sat on your head, your cheeks a rosy pink from the wind outside, in your hands held a book. He smiled knowing you were going to spend another ride with your nose deep in the pages. You were so delicate with every move you made, and he felt like you lit the entire room with your presence.

He already knew your routine for how much he had seen you, but this time it was different. You turned your head looking around finding him sitting by the window, your eyes met his fiery brown ones. It was then he felt like he was going to faint, his heart beating rapidly - you smiled.

You smiled and he felt like the world vanished, leaving him breathless. It was only you, a ray of light caressing your shoulders illuminating you like a goddess. It was his chance… this was the chance he could’ve said anything. Yet he did something so idiotic that he went home that day slamming his head into the pillow cursing himself for being so stupid.

He looked away, his cheeks turning red. He did not smile or said anything but rather fixated on the blurs of the streets that passed by.

As the last week of school came, and his friends teased him about a crush on the beautiful stranger he was infuriated with - he found himself sitting the train ride again.

The familiar stop came, and he listened to the doors slide open, his hands shaking from the nervousness. The seat next to him suddenly became occupied, he did not look thinking it was a stranger that sat next to him.

A soft chuckle was heard and it made his heart flutter crazily, he peeked beside him slowly finding the beautiful stranger next to him.

You smiled at him, for you were waiting for him to speak first.

You did notice him a lot, and you knew about him, the famous Jacaerys Velaryon, first born son of the famous businesswoman Rhaenyra Targaryen.

You saw him in every train ride, but you also saw him on campus, laughing with his friends, often throwing a football as he played during lunch breaks. He was popular, maybe for his name or his money, but he walked around campus with such grace - his aura leaving many boys with envy and girls wanting him.

Your smile never left your lips as he stared at you in disbelief that you actually sat next to him.

From up close, you were much more beautiful, your scent overwhelming him as you smelled like he thought you would, a mix of floral and vanilla, you smelled like home.

Graduation was two days away. And he was set to leave the week after to start summer camp.

Perhaps, it was too late to start anything but his chance came to finally hear your voice, to at least know your name, the girl, the beautiful stranger that made his dreams sweet and made him smile when he sat to think of you.

Jace finally smiled back, and his soft voice made your insides warm, “Hello.”

#𓇼 nattie's works #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #hotd jacaerys #hotd imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #modern!au #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #jacaerys x you

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chuulyssa · 5 months

Text

🇸 🇵 🇦 🇳 🇰 !

BSD MEN REACTING TO YOU SPANKING THEM.

↷ A/N ─ as usual please leave likes and reblogs to show support :D i love spoiling you guys !! now please tell me to go study i need some motivation :(

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ spanking, mentions of smut

MATURE THEMES, 16+, MENTIONS OF AND IMPLIED SMUT

*spanks*

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

momentarily surprised but quickly recovers

smiles and turns to you

it's like you just gave him a treat :D you can almost see his tail wagging as if he's a dog (he hates dogs btw grrr)

he believes that you spanking his ass gives HIM permission to do the same to YOU :( how mean of him

so he catches you off guard by spanking your ass

and you two end up chasing each other down to take turns spanking each other. whoever loses does the dishes tonight

"You've been very good today; you even completed your punishment for provoking me," he says, engulfing you in a cuddle after you returned from doing the dishes.

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

chokes on air this time (yes chuuya chokes in every single scenario of mine but he's the one choking you at night so its ok !! :D)

he's surprised because wtf?? he's the one supposed to be doing that conventionally????

defo spanks you back but tries to be as soft as possible because he's a gentleman

i think this is already an hc but he's an ass guy so once you've spanked him don't think he's gonna leave u at all

i did say his spanks are gonna be as soft as he can make them be but i never said how many 🤪😇

"Count," he hisses. It's midnight, and you're at his mercy. After his long and hard day at work, he needs something to relieve his stress.

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

stops your hand mid-air because duh he already knew about what you were gonna do

twists and turns and ends up holding your ass and squeezing it

all the while you're like wtf is wrong with you

his eyes make it look like he's enjoying it sm :( such a kitty cat

im still mad they didn't give us a whole separate scene for his ass :< anyone who's read the manga, any pics you wanna share? 👁

"You need to buy me extra candy for putting up with your stupidity," he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek.

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

his reflexes immediately act and you see rashomon from the back of his coat

but then he realizes its you...

and he FLUSHES. YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN BLUSH

well now you have :D his poor virgin ass

not a virgin anymore once he started dating you u horny ass mf /lh

he has literally no idea how to reply to that

he just shrugs cluelessly

"I guess I should return the favour?" he tries to sound confident but ends up delivering the lightest, most gentle spank. He doesn't want to hurt you. He loves you.

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

DISGUSTED™

one, because he's another virgin (virgin slander less gaurr 💪🏻 even tho im one myself; its the self burn guys !!)

and two, for the last time STOP. MESSING. WITH. HIS. RELIGIOUS. SELF.

you're SATAN in his eyes, trying to distract him and make him sin (as if he isn't a murderer and a terrorist cough cough)

if we're being delusional enough he'll leave the room with a faint pink on his cheeks 🤡

definitely returns the favour at night 🤭🤭 (only if you're married tho!!)

"My sole undivided attention is all yours now," he hits your ass again. "Anything to say? Hm? Why not? You were all for giggling at my face today. What's wrong now?"

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

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miabebe · 3 months

Text

Reverse Trope Series - Too Many Beds (Teaser)

You shared 25 years of your life with Seunghceol, what was another 4 nights right?

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x reader

Word Count - 488 for the teaser ( The full fic is around 11k, give or take? It was supposed to be below 2K, I fucked up)

Genre - Enemies to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots and I love making them pine hehe

Warnings - none for the teaser, maybe an reference to Seungcheol's dick

Estimated posting date - 6th July, 5pm KST (I don't have a taglist but I am happy to tag if anyone wants? Just drop comment or send an ask/message :)

Edit - It's out! Read here :)

“Absolutely not.”

“No way in hell.”

Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m not sharing a room with him.”

“I don’t wish to even breathe in her vicinity.”

“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”

“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.”

“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you sweetheart.”

“That was a fact darling.”

“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her confused eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So the two of you are dating?”

Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back.

“No!”

“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday that date her-”

“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”

“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. How about I give you something to better to choke on-”

“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that puny thing-”

“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.”

You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.

“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.”

And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking aback all three of its inhabitants. From the corner of your eye you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder.

Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.

Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out.

Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in one hand each, leading the way to your despair of the night.

#svthub #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol fluff #scoups fluff #seungcheol imagines #seventeen imagines #seungcheol fic #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen #reverse trope #one bed #too many beds

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spiderbeam · 5 months

Text

the case of the red umbrella

description: working at your local coffee shop in port townsend is usually uneventful… until you meet a pretty boy in the midst of a thunderstorm

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i love charles rowland with all my heart so yeah <3 it’s a pretty basic imagine because i didn’t really have any fleshed out ideas! so if you have rqs let me know :)

Today is a quiet day. The humming of the coffee machine accompanies the distant sound of rain as you clean the countertop with a rag. The rain hasn’t stopped since midday— and you’re starting to wonder how you’ll walk back home when you didn’t pack an umbrella. You close your eyes, and the sound of droplets against the pavement and the roof feels louder. You’re dreading the moment you’ll have to clock out.

You hum a song you heard that morning on the radio, ducking under the counter to check —once again— if Marina accidentally left an umbrella there that you could borrow. You wiggle your hand between cardboard boxes, scrunching your nose and praying for even a broken one.

“Huh. This place is definitely a lot less creepy than the butcher shop.”

You bump your head against the counter. You let out a groan, holding the banged up area with your rag-less hand. By the time you stand up, you’re looking back at a tall, lanky boy with curly hair and a lopsided smile.

He tilts his head at you with a bemused expression. “You should be careful with that,” he mentions, before turning to look around the warmly-lit shop.

You scoff a small laugh. “Yeah— sorry. You just scared me a little there.” The boy freezes in his place, snapping his head in your direction. His eyes grow wide. “I didn’t hear the bell when you came in.”

“The— The bell?” he repeats, no longer looking as smug as he did a moment before.

“My bad, honestly. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in with this type of weather.” You shrug your shoulders, shaking your head as you reach for a cup. “Right, anyways— what can I get you?”

You uncap your sharpie. You wait a second, two, three, before looking back up at him. He’s staring at you with a dumbfounded look. His backpack actually starts to slip from his shoulder.

You tilt your head, and after a beat, he clears his throat. He looks up at the board behind you. “Um. Yeah. Of course.” He squints, and as he’s reading what he can order, you take a moment to actually look at him. He’s pretty, you realize now that he’s standing closer to the counter. He has a sharp jawline, pretty bow lips, and an earring in his left ear that suits him so.

“Actually, it’s been a while since I’ve had coffee,” he says, and his brown eyes meet your own. You startle, cheeks growing hot. You wonder whether he caught you checking him out. From the mirth dancing in his gaze and the cocky twitch of his lips, you’re certain he did. He chuckles. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

You arch a brow. “Are you sure about that? Marina’s big on her no refunds policy.”

“You seem like someone who has good taste.” He shrugs his shoulders loosely, and his awkward demeanor from the start is gone in the blink of an eye. He tilts his head, lips curving up. “I’ll trust you.”

You look up at him. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” you tease. “Can I get a name for the order?”

His lips part like he wants to say something else. Instead, he simply answers with, “Charles.”

“Charles,” you repeat with a barely-concealed smile. “I didn’t think anyone was being named Charles since the seventies.”

He snorts, a wide grin brightening up his face. “You have no idea.” His eyes flick down to your name tag. “But, then again, you’re one to talk…” he tilts his head. “…Agatha.”

This time, you’re the one who laughs. “That’s a nice try— except I’m not Agatha.”

“Really?” he leans over the counter. ”Because the name on your pin says otherwise.”

“It’s because it’s not my name tag.” You roll your eyes with a smile as you turn to the coffee machine and start preparing him his drink. “I lost mine ages ago, and I don’t actually feel like paying for another one out of pocket.”

“So, you’ve left poor, innocent Agatha without one.”

“Please, she had it coming,” you respond, and he laughs. You’re not about to explain to him that Agatha retired before you even started working here.

The coffee machine stops humming, and you reach for the cup before finally closing it with a lid.

“So if not Agatha,” Charles starts, “what should I call you?”

You slide his coffee cup across the counter. You tell him your name, and he repeats it with a smile. He’s about to bring his coffee up to his lips, before stopping.

“Oh— apologies,” he sets it down on the table, reaching around for his backpack. “How— How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house,” you say.

He raises a brow. “What for?”

“Keeping me company on a day like this.” You gesture outside, where the rain only seems to have gotten worse.

“Yeah— dreadful weather, huh?” he says, hopping onto the counter with little regard for the fact that you only just cleaned it. Surprisingly enough, you don’t find yourself caring all-that much.

“Tell me about it.” You exhale, casting a glance out the window. “If it gets any worse, I might just end up camping here.”

Charles hums in agreement, toying with his coffee cup, but not yet drinking it. “Have you been working here for long?”

“Since high school, yeah.” You lean your back against the counter, folding your arms over your chest. “What about you?”

He furrows his brow. “What about me?”

“Well, for one, I know all my regulars— and this is the first time I’m seeing you around. How long have you been in Port Townsend?

“Ah, not long.” He scratches the back of his neck. “A friend of mine has been renting a room next door.”

“She’s renting one of Jenny’s rooms?” you muse. “Huh. So you’re visiting her?”

“Yeah. You could say that.” You cock your head slightly, giving Charles a look. He raises his brows. “What?”

“Your coffee’s gonna get cold, Charles,” you tease.

He almost looks flustered at that. “Right! Coffee, yeah.” He brings the cup to his lips, and swallows most of it in one big gulp. His face twists into a poorly-stifled grimace. His voice is hoarse when he adds, “So good.”

He tries to smile at you, but you’re frowning. Charles decides he doesn’t like to see you frowning.

“You hate it,” you say, lightly kicking your leg. The one time a customer —a cute one, at that— asks you to choose for them, and you royally fuck it. “Fuck, I knew I should’ve gone with a black coffee or something.”

“What?” Charles says, voice still somewhat scratchy from the drink. He hops off the counter, now standing next to you. There’s a smile on his face that looks apologetic. “No, no! It’s brills, really— perfect.”

You shake your head, trying not to show how much it bothers you. You try to chuckle. “Come on, Charles. Your face is getting all scrunched up— like you just ate a mouthful of dirt.”

He winces, embarrassed. “Yeah, to be honest I’m not actually big on coffee.”

He’s sparing your feelings. You’re not sure yet whether you find it endearing from him or embarrassing for you. Maybe a little of both. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, surprised to see that he’s already looking down at you. His shoulder is a breath away from yours— you could lean your head on it if you wanted to.

“And yet here you are. Inside a coffee shop, on a Tuesday afternoon, while the sky falls outside.”

“Accusing me of something?” Charles clicks his tongue, and the warm lighting of the shop catches and reflects on his earring. “There are other things to enjoy here.”

“Such as?”

“The company.” His eyes meet yours when he says that, and you find a strange warmth spreading inside your chest.

You can’t help the way your lips curve upward. “Does that line usually work for you?”

“I don’t know.” He leans his back against the counter, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Does it?”

You laugh at that, shaking your head. He’s grinning. “Only ‘cause you’re pretty.”

He grins wider at that. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Come on, Charles. Do you really think I give free coffees out to anyone?”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“Yeah, how so?”

“Because maybe I’ll come by more often.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like coffee.”

Charles shrugs. “Yeah. But there’s a gorgeous barista that works there. Agatha, I think.”

You’re laughing now, louder than before. Your cheeks feel hot as it dies out. You’re still smiling when you catch Charles licking his bottom lip, glancing down at yours. Your heart stammers, but you find yourself leaning closer.

Your mouths are inches away from each other when thunder strikes, and you both flinch away.

“You should get home soon,” Charles says, rounding the counter. “I don’t think it’s gonna get much better.”

“Yeah— you’re probably right.” You hope he can’t see you blushing underneath the dim light. “See you soon then?”

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s something about his beaming smile that makes you believe him. “See you soon.”

The afternoon drags on after that. Rain pours outside, paired with the occasional lighting strike.

And as you’re closing, turning off the lights and placing chairs atop tables, you find that there’s something that wasn’t there before.

An old, red umbrella, leaning against the door.

a/n: reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

#charles rowland x reader #dead boy detectives imagines #dead boy detective agency #charles rowland imagine #charles rowland x you #the sandman x reader #dead boy detectives x reader #dani writes dead boy detectives #—charlesrowland!#one shot 🌨

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

Text

i never thought you’d happen to me - 2

part one / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 6.7k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.

You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.

You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.

Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.

You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.

It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.

Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.

How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.

Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time, he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?

The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.

"Yeah?"

"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."

"Okay," you breathe.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.

----

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling.

It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another.

As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him.

You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear.

You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier.

Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head.

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel.

A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.

You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.

You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely.

“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone.

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.

He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away.

He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.

You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw.

“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.

“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.”

“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.

“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”

“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once.

“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished.

Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.

There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in.

And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him.

That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail.

The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.

“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”

Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.

You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did.

“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.

“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”

You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.

Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.

The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.

He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..

He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.

He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.

His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen.

He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.

He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back.

“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.

“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.

He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.

Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.

It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry.

Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away.

Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.

Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.

“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.

Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you.

You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.

When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.

“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair.

He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm.

When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.

“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.

You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you.

You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.

He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.

Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.

He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.

He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.

"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.

"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."

"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.

It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.

He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.

He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.

"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.

He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.

"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.

"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.

You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.

Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.

---

You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.

He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.

Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.

"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.

"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.

You're honestly dumbfounded.

You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.

"No? Then why do you act like you do?"

"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.

He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."

You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.

"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.

"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.

"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.

"That was me admitting that I care about you."

You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"

"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.

"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.

"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."

"Not yet," you counter.

Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.

His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.

"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.

"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.

Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."

You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question.

He nods.

"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.

You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips.

You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.

"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.

His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours.

It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.

You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.

Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.

The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.

The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.

"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.

"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.

"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.

Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.

Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.

"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."

"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.

"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"

"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.

"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."

Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.

When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.

"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.

"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.

"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."

"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"

You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.

"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.

"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.

"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"

She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."

"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.

"I love you more."

"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.

"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.

"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.

"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."

"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."

"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."

You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.

Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.

You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.

You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.

The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.

He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.

"What now?" you whisper.

"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.

You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.

"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"

"Mhm,"

You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.

"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.

His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.

You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.

You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"

Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.

“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”

“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.

“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned.

Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.

He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.

“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”

You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.

An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be.

Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.

“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him.

He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”

“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.

You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.

“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.

“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.

His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another.

His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.

The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.

“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling.

His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.

“Steve?” he answers in question.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”

“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.

There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.

“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.

“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears.

“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”

“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.

“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.

“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”

“Uhhh,”

“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him.

“Really?”

“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.

“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.

His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.

“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.

As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door.

“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall.

“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.

You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.

As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand.

“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff.

“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.

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