#LITERALLY a fluff piece you have been warned | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spaghettiposts · 4 months

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5 times you slept in places you shouldn’t have + the 1 time Wanda dragged you with her

Wanda Maximoff x Spider!reader

Summary: You’ve always had trouble sleeping, and Wanda’s always been there to see it.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor readers not doing so well in the sleep department.

Word count: 10.7k (I am so sorry)

A/n: I’ve always wanted to try this troupe I’m very excited with how this turned out. Took me literal months (started in march) anyways!! Reblogs or no more Wanda 🫵 /j happy reading!!

The couch

Sleeping had never been your thing, but you could sleep through it all when it was. You were never a heavy sleeper, in fact, a light sleeper. Just the slightest of noises were enough to have your body ringing and if you refused to comply your very friendly spider-sense would have no problem in senselessly jolting you awake till you’d arrive half stumbling into a nearby crime scene.

Your spider senses only worsened to the point where sleeping was becoming harder to do and at some point you stopped trying altogether. Night after night you’d stare aimlessly at the ceiling above you, just, waiting for the prickling sensation to eat at your flesh until you couldn’t handle the needles seeping through your skin. The lack of sleep and the cruel anticipation were eating at you, and you were starting to grow desperate.

Over dinner you complained about it to Steve one Friday night when all the Avengers took time off for some one-on-one time (despite not being an official member you graciously accepted the invitation), he noticed your sluggish behavior and recommended you avoid living near the danger until you could learn to control your powers better. His reasoning being; “If you’re not near a crime scene, your senses won’t have anything to wake you for, that way you’ll receive the proper rest you require”.

The strangest part out of all of it was; his advice worked. At the compound, you slept like a baby, in your apartment in New York? Not so much. You were very appreciative of the man, and he was even kind enough to offer you a room which you accepted immediately.

One person who had been initially excited about your move-in was Wanda. You were lucky enough to consider Wanda one of your closest friends aside from Peter. She was absolutely brilliant and you both got along well. Similar to an unfinished puzzle piece she was the last puzzle you didn’t even know you were missing. She needed company, and you were glad to provide it.

You didn’t visit often, but with this newfound arrangement, you would be. Wanda didn’t know if the idea of spending more time with you or potentially sleeping one room away from you excited her more. Either way, the thought of you being a door down had her cheeks flushing and Natasha’s lips curling into a knowing smirk.

So yes, Wanda was excited about your temporary stay.

That was until she realized how annoying of a sleeper you could be. No, you didn’t snore, nor drool in your sleep.

Your problem wasn’t any of those. And honestly, Wanda wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for a late-night last-minute grocery run. Earlier that morning she had promised the team she’d cook her famous paprikash for tomorrow and had miscalculated exactly how many ingredients were in stock.

As Wanda stepped out of the elevator, she shifted her weight to better handle the bags, struggling only slightly before releasing them onto the counter with a sigh of relief. With a flick of her wrist, the lights turned on, and to her surprise; you were there too. Not in the kitchen but sprawled out on the couch where soft snores were leaving your lips.

‘Huh’

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, chuckling to herself. You looked like a starfish and your attire was… well, certainly something. You were completely knocked out beneath your Spider-Man suit and–– were those sweatpants? She guessed you must have been swinging through the city on patrol again. As for how sweatpants ended up on you, a mystery.

You still had your mask on, and before Wanda could give it much thought she was already walking in your direction, step by step, until she was kneeling beside the couch. Carefully, her fingers reached out, slowly lifting the edges of your mask. Just as she was about to peel it out, you stirred beneath her touch, causing her to still.

“Wanda?” You whispered hoarsely, elbows lifting to get a better look at your surroundings but Wanda was quick to push you back down.

“Relax, you fell asleep in your suit again.” Wanda shushed you, and you hummed, not really fighting it, settling back into the couch to give her more control. She gently pried off the rest of the mask before placing it on the coffee table.

Leaning down she ran her hand towards your hair, pushing away strands from your eye and you grumbled sleepily.

The witch chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before straightening herself up again. “There, you can sleep now.”

“You’re the best.” You mumbled as she walked away, taking a deep breath, and burying your face back into the cushions.

From the kitchen Wanda smiled fondly, a blush tinting her cheeks as she unpacked the groceries; moving quietly to not wake you. You’re all she thinks about as she organizes things, glancing in your direction every so often.

And you find yourself doing the same, seeing her in your dreams, and sleeping with an even bigger smile than before.

—

2. Tony’s desk

The compound is surprisingly quiet the next day, considering Tony was paying a visit Wanda would’ve assumed exactly the opposite in his company. But there were no out-of-the-ordinary noises, just the occasional banging of his hammer and welding machine.

Overall it was pretty peaceful and the weather was just beautiful, a perfect blend of sunny but not insufferably so, a sight that would go well with some lunch. Naturally, you’re the first person that comes to mind that Wanda thinks to ask.

Yet, a problem arises when Wanda can’t seem to find you anywhere. You’re not in your usual spots, including the bean bag chair in the movie room, or the outside bench next to the pond.

Noticing Wanda’s dejected demeanor, Natasha has enough of it after all the aimless pacing. The assassin suggests that you might be downstairs in Tony’s lab, and Wanda’s eyes light up the next second. A brilliant suggestion indeed, after all, he was your mentor.

Unsurprisingly, Wanda finds you exactly where Nat said you’d be. Hunched over, asleep on one of Tony’s desks, snoring ever so softly. Next to you were your web shooters—or pieces of them.

The sight would’ve normally made Wanda smile if it weren’t for your uncomfortable position. Any more time spent like that and you’d surely be retired before 40 with chronic back pain. Previously, you had told Wanda not to worry about it, mumbling on about how you spiders could sleep anywhere.

Wanda didn’t believe it for one second, knowing you immediately had to pop a few pills to relieve the pain in your spine. As much as you were a superhero, you weren’t immortal, humanity never left you—something Wanda had to remind you of whenever you pushed yourself to a certain extent.

Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, Wanda removed the gears from underneath your arms, carefully placing them aside, mindful not to ruin the process you had sorted out.

Placing the items aside, you sigh on the table, stirring softly, but you remain blissfully unaware. A gentle smile curls on Wanda’s lips as she watches you, her soft palm coming to stroke your back.

That was enough to jolt you awake, snapping up with wide eyes, and grabbing the nearest screwdriver to threaten whoever was there. Your posture was contrary to intimidating, and Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, lifting her hands in mock surrender.

“Please have mercy.” She teased with a playful grin, using her finger to push back the ‘weapon’.

You blinked confusingly, glancing down at the item in your hand before chuckling. “Consider yourself lucky it wasn’t Thor’s hammer I picked up.” You quipped, placing the tool down and stretching your arms above your head.

And Wanda sighed, watching you struggle to get that knot out. Standing up from her chair she came to your aid, massaging at your shoulders and back. You sighed in relief, leaning back into her touch as she worked her magic.

She really did have magical fingers.

“You really have to stop resting in places that’ll give you backaches.” Wanda chides, hands sliding underneath your shirt for better access, sending a shiver down both of you.

“If I stop then how will I get more of those delightful massages from you?” You murmured with closed eyes, completely drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s warm hands on you. “It’s what I love most about you.”

Wanda tensed, flattening her palms on your back, before continuing with trembling fingers to not raise suspicion. “Is that all?” She retorted, voice low.

You posed a thoughtful expression, letting out a hum as you leaned back. “Also for the delectable cooking, so, two reasons.” You teased, holding up two fingers. Wanda scoffed, slapping the back of your head and removing herself the same second. You giggled mischievously, trying to get her to come back.

Swiveling your chair around, you reached out for her and effectively trapped her between your legs, and Wanda rolled her eyes, ignoring how the position made her feel things.

“So I’m just a housewife to you then?” She prodded, tilting her head in a way she knew would have you stumbling.

You shook your head, gently uncrossing her arms and taking her hands between yours.

“You’re more than that to me Wanda…” Standing up you brushed the strands of hair away from her eyes, leaning in close enough to feel Wanda’s breath hitch and you smirked; whispering.

“You're my housekeeper.”

Approximately 0.5 seconds was what it took for Wanda to gasp and shove you back towards your desk, and you let out a hearty laugh.

“See if I ever cook for you again.”

Her voice means to come out stern but you completely ignore it, thinking how adorable she looks with arms crossed and an almost annoyed pout on her face. It’s your arms that wrap around her that make her break, bringing her into a hug and making her cheeks flush again.

“I’m simply teasing witchy, you know I love you, all of you.” The words slide out easily from your lips as you lean down to press a tender kiss to her head and Wanda looks surprised, but then you quickly redirect your attention to the basket with a cheesy grin and Wanda stumbled. “Now how about we go enjoy that picnic then?”

Your steps are quick as you grab the basket, ignoring her piercing gaze.

And with how unaffectedly you move, Wanda wonders if you could possibly love her differently in the first place.

—

3. In a tangle of webs + Peter

Some nights were harder than others for a mind reader. It wasn’t an uncommon fate for any Avenger either, everyone had their own issues and Wanda had just been so lucky to view all of them. If she had the choice she’d never choose to see them but if Wanda had learned something from all her years; nightmares were loud.

Loud enough to startle people from their subconscious, and loud enough to provoke detailed images of their clouded lives into replaying scenes in her mind. A horror Wanda didn’t yet have the strength to ignore.

It didn’t help that most nights, they had them.

Empty walls stared back at Wanda’s dimmed green eyes. Her hands firmly wrapped around her head—in a fashion of both comfort and control, trying to ease the pulsing, luring her into a state of ease just to slip into someone’s mind again. She wanted to stop the feeling and visions but couldn’t.

After twenty more minutes of hopeless starring, the memories grew weaker.

Still, her mind remained trapped in what she had managed to see. Deciding that sleep wasn’t going to help Wanda groggily stood forward, trudging down the stairs to grab a glass of water in the common room, maybe some chamomile tea.

Part of her heart sought company, and if given the courage she’d knock on your door and ask for it. But this time, for once the universe seemed to be on her side when her eyes landed on you.

—with Peter. Laying in a tangle of limbs, and webs. Not exactly the conscious company she was hoping for…

Despite your clustered position on the floor you both seemed at peace. You were both fast asleep and for just a second her heart clenched with envy before simmering into a soft sense of affection. How was it that you could be so cute without even trying?

Slow droplets poured from the facet and into her cup as she took in the sight, forgetting why she was even there in the first place. But then her eyes wandered over to the calendar, right, Friday.

She felt silly not noticing sooner. Had she really been so caught up in her head that she didn’t notice what day it was?

The unfinished Lego Razor Crest propped on the table should have given it away.

Fridays were ‘Fundays’.

Wanda thought it was stupid, which was probably why she wasn’t invited to the events. Not that she minded, considering all you ever did was build legos with Peter and occasionally talk about girls—and why would Wanda want to hear that purposely?

She knew she had no right to feel jealous, it wasn’t wrong for you to think about other girls. But did you have to be so damn obvious about it? Your mind was a fortress when it came to penetrating your thoughts, it so rarely happened, but when it did she caught glimpses of the girl who was (annoyingly) always on your mind.

The girl with green eyes.

Too focused on figuring out who that girl was again, Wanda lost track of how much water she really needed when the cup began to overfill.

“Shit.” Wanda hissed, turning off the tap before the water could spill further. “Gross…” she grumbled, scrunching her nose as she dabbled at the wet spot on her sweater.

That was enough water for the night.

Briefly, before she leaves, Wanda considers waking you up again. Maybe coax you into a proper bed this time around, but before she can make up her mind Peter’s bursting awake, looking panicked. His widened eyes meet Wanda’s equally alarmed ones and he sucks in a breath.

“Oh, sorry… I thought…burglar.” He stammers, scratching the back of his head, albeit confused. “What time is it?”

Glancing towards the oven, Wanda squints. “Late, it’s 3 AM.” She replies and Peter grunts, mumbling about how it’s way past his bedtime.

Amid his movements to stand up, your head slips from his grasp, colliding with the foot of the table with a heavy thud and he stumbles back. Wanda gasps, shooting Peter a glare, (who doesn’t really register it in his state of distortion) before she rushes to aid you.

“What the fuck…” You mumble groggily, hissing at the stinging coming from the back of your head, slowly lifting yourself up to find a concerned Wanda helping you sit. “Wanda?” Now you were really confused but nevertheless allowed her to move you.

The room was cold, chills rushing through your body in the absence of warmth, but the soft touch of warm hands felt incredible against your skin. Not being able to help yourself you leaned into her touch, noticing the way Wanda’s breath hitched.

God, she was so cute.

Wanda swallows dryly and you think you might’ve said that out loud, judging by the way her fingers tremble and she’s turning away a blushing mess. But you don’t dwell on it as she continues to rub the back of your head to ease the pain.

“Are you okay dorogoy?” She coos and you nod wryly, her face contorting into one of mellows but neither of you says anything. Instead, you will your eyes to focus on her own, gazing into the depths of the forests that haunt your heart, and you have no clue why.

Sighing, she redirects her attention, eyes flickering between the both of you who are lost in thought. Part of her feels it’s from exhaustion but there’s something else written on your face that has her curiosity peaking.

“Why aren’t you in bed? Both of you, it’s late.” She chides gently, and you flinch.

“We got caught up with…” Peter starts to explain, motioning towards the Lego set and his demeanor avoidant. “that.”

Wanda notices his shaken tone and frowns. It’s clear she doesn’t fully believe him and she opens her mouth to indulge him further but you squeeze her hand, pursing your lips to ask her to drop it. Her brows furrow in silent question, eyes glinting with whirlwinds of misunderstanding and hurt, but you’re too tired to answer any.

Instead, you give her a reassuring smile.

Peter had a rough time yesterday, that’s all, little witch, You whisper into her mind, seeing Wanda’s eyes turn a shade of red before returning back to you, accepting the response with a hesitant nod.

“You really should get to bed Y/n…” Wanda tells you, rising to her feet and offering you her hand in the process. “You too Peter.”

Peter nodded in agreement almost instantly, not wanting to stay any longer in his state of lethargy. Wanda makes a mental note to speak to Tony about decreasing his work hours.

However, in contrast to Peter’s compliance, you deny her suggestion with a shake of your head.

“S’too far.” You mutter under your breath, tugging webs to the corners of each room to create a hammock so naturally as if you had done it a thousand times. Which you probably have.

For a moment Wanda looked amazed, marveling at your abilities to manipulate and create whatever you needed with just webbed fluids. But then you were snoring soundly on the makeshift bed—hammock—oblivious to the concerns you had stirred up and Wanda realized that wasn’t the point.

When she turned to Peter for help, the younger boy scratched the back of his head nervously, shrugging his shoulders and giving an apologetic look.

Seeing as there was nothing else she could do, nor did she wish to wake you again for the second time tonight, a sigh escaped Wanda’s lips. Red tendrils wrapped around a blanket, pulling it closer until it encompassed your body completely. She felt the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, but with Peter in the room, she held back to avoid any awkwardness

Your lips curled into a soft smile, and Wanda returned it before turning on her heels to guide the other spider into bed.

At least this one listens. The thought came bitterly, causing Wanda to grimace.

“I honestly don’t understand why she keeps doing this when she has a perfectly good mattress.” Wanda sighs deeply, her voice laced with exhaustion as she walks up the steps.

Peter blinks, giving another helpless shrug, gripping onto the rail for dear life. “I think it’s just a spider thing, sleep is anywhere you make it.”

“But you sleep in your bed every night.” She points out, shivering at the sudden temperature.

The air is turning colder and Wanda wonders if the singular blanket she gave you would be enough. She’s tugging at her sleeves when Peter interrupts her thoughts.

“That is true…” A yawn cut through the younger boy's speech as he approached his door, looking dangerously close to passing out. “But I don't have problems with sleeping alone.”

Wanda furrows her brows as the words register. Alone? You can’t sleep because you feel alone? But before she could pry further Peter was leaning against the wooden frame, fast asleep. And Wanda didn’t have it in her to ask anymore.

Once she had successfully tucked in Peter, she closed the door gently, never once did you leave her mind. Leaning against the door, Wanda tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind caught in thought but one remained a constant.

Spiders really can sleep anywhere.

—

4. Staircases

Tired was an understatement, Wanda was spent. Completely and utterly exasperated by your behavior. There was an outstanding record for the amounts of migraines you’ve given her this month, knocking Pietro off the scoreboard by two.

She was starting to feel annoyed and rightfully so as she stared at the crowd with a sour expression on her face. For the fourth time in a month, you were nowhere to be found and it was your party.

Before Christmas, it was a tradition in the compound to throw a Gala in honor of the friendly neighborhood spiders who had worked overtime to keep New Yorkers safe for the holidays and throughout the year.

More so an excuse for Tony to itch that insatiable party nerve of his before the big Christmas one.

Of course, this gala was no exception to a roaring crowd. The dance floor was packed with sweaty people grinding on one another and Wanda swears she could see even Bruce getting into the groove of it. At the bar, only Natasha remained with a couple of straying men. So where were you?

A completely plastered Tony walked past the witch, stumbling as he did so and fiddling with his pants. Immediately Wanda grasped on his suit before he could get too far, enticing a yelp when she tugged the man to a secluded corner.

“Tony, where's Y/n?” Wanda asked through gritted teeth. She didn’t know why—call it intuition—but for some reason, she felt your disappearance had something to do with him.

Tony scrunched his face, glancing over her shoulder with urgency and shouting back louder. “Where’s the restroom? That’s what I’m trying to figure out Maximoff, I’m pissing myself here!”

“Y/n, Tony, Y/n.” Wanda says exasperatedly.

Tony's mouth forms an ‘oh’ as the realization dawns on him before he’s giggling like a schoolgirl which only heightens Wanda’s worries.

“Ah, Y/n, funny story actually—”

It was not a funny story, and hearing the end of it had Wanda feeling even more upset and aggravated at the man.

She didn’t know whether to be more angry at the fact you “consented” to that stupid dare in the first place or Tony coming up with the bright idea to launch you midair while intoxicated in his death trap tin suit.

Which is how Wanda found you, through Tony’s utter stupidity and your sleepiness. Much to her relief, you weren’t dangling from a ledge or on top of the Empire State Building; instead, cozied up on the staircase with a beer bottle in hand threatening to fall off at any given moment. Tony’s red helmet sat snuggly on your head, leaning against the wall.

Wanda huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes and approaching swiftly to wake you. Her hand collided with the back of your neck, sparing you absolutely no mercy as you sputtered awake.

“Ouch,” You groaned, blinking dazedly beneath the helmet as all your senses came back to you, along with a searing headache.

You grimaced at the sight of the bottle in your hand, setting it aside as if it could burn you with one single touch.

That explains the headache.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” Came that voice you knew all too well. You swore you could feel the hairs on your body standing as you slowly turned to see, shivering at the goosebumps, and being met with the sight of a very displeased Wanda.

Her arms folded against her chest, head tilted at just the right angle to make you scared shitless. Still, the slight furrow to her brows and teary glimmer in her eyes had you thinking she wasn’t entirely angry, just, upset—sad.

And maybe if your mind wasn’t so foggy, you would’ve taken it into account, and taken her into your arms.

“Wanda…?” You murmured, attempting to feign innocence as if she wasn’t glaring daggers into your skull. “Oh! Wanda!” You exclaimed, mustering a very nervous chuckle.

As if the helmet could sense your distress it decided that opening would be the best option and smiled sheepishly. Wanda raised an unimpressed brow, green darkened eyes digging into your soul and you sighed in defeat. Not exactly the happy welcome you expected.

Worth a shot.

“Don’t ‘Oh Wanda’ me! Seriously? Sleeping at a Gala!?” She hissed, and you stiffened, feeling the need to back up. “And on the stairs of all places, do you know how much of a hazard that is?”

You scoffed disbelievingly, feeling the need to defend yourself. “Come on Wanda, we both know Tony’s parties—“ You cut off your speech, putting your fingers up in quotation marks to quote her. “Sorry, ‘Galas’ are anything but formal.”

Then you’re pointing at the rousing crowd above you who you can hear yelling through muffled walls ‘Chug! Chug! Chug!’ and give Wanda a pointed look, who then rolls her eyes again.

“That’s not the point Y/n. It’s your party.”

It’s Wanda’s diminished expression that has you sobering up instantly. Her tightened eyes stared back at your own, and you hated the guilt tugging at your chest. In the worst of states, you wouldn’t want her looking at you like that, not when you’ve seen her look at you better. It was selfish, but was it? To wish to see her smile again? You didn’t know, but it was worth more than whatever goddamn party—gala they threw at you.

With a new mindset in mind, believing you’d have more fun with Wanda than without, you dusted yourself off, properly taking the helmet off this time. You carried it under one arm and offered the other. Wanda looked at you quizzically at the sudden change but you didn’t let that faze you, taking the initiative to wrap your arm around her own.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you just wanted to, so you did, leaning over to plant a short kiss on her cheek and Wanda lost all train of thought then and there.

“You’re right, I’m sorry–I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair and Wanda gives you a look of sympathy.

She squeezes your arm with her other hand, shaking her head. Her tone is soft as she rubs a comforting hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you Y/n…we all have our rough patches. Just, let me be there for you. You don’t have to hide away.”

You suck your teeth, the urge to disagree coming in strongly but you resign, feeling embarrassed under her gaze and your confidence ends short-lived.

Pursing your lips, your eyes drift downwards to your arms, not really sure what to do next. Noticing your struggle, Wanda takes pity on you and decides to drop the subject for another day, softly tugging on your forearm as she speaks.

“Let’s dance?”

“Yes please.” You groan, barely finishing your sentence before Wanda leads you up the stairs and you almost stumble. Grumbling to yourself as you straighten up, you level Wanda a look in caution. “Just be warned, I can’t really tell the difference between my left and right foot right now.”

“It’s okay, you were never much of a good dancer anyway.” She hums teasingly, failing miserably at hiding her smirk.

You let out a gasp, feigning mock offense as you raise a hand to your heart, wounded. “Geez Maximoff, you know, typically you’re supposed to woo your dancing partner, not crush their hopes and spirits.”

The witch scoffs, rolling her eyes. Once you’re off the stairs and stable enough, she makes no point in waiting for you or giving you any answer as she walks through the bustling crowd and you quickly rush to catch up with her.

“Wow! And now you’re ignoring me!” You yell over the noise, a pout adorned on your lips. “And leaving me?! Wanda I must say, I’m not quite enjoying these new colors on you. What happened to manners–?”

You’re cut off abruptly by a sudden tug to your arm by Wanda, who’s pulling you to the side and you grin. She has two cups of what you assume is tropical punch in her hand and hands one to you. Lowering your nose, you smell the drink to check if it’s spiked. Wanda gives you an unimpressed look, and you think she looks hot when she’s annoyed with you.

Suddenly she’s slapping your shoulder with a burning pink tint on her cheeks, completely exasperated as she replies “My god, do you have an off switch?”

You shine a toothy smile, leaning against the wall for support as you bring the cup to your lips, a familiar mischievous glint in your eyes that has Wanda regretting saying anything.

You cautiously lean into the space, whispering for only her to hear, “No, but I do have a couple of ideas on how to keep me quiet.”

To say it comes out more suggestive than you intended was an understatement. But Wanda doesn’t let that deter her, doubling down.

“Oh really?” Her head tilts, quirking an amused brow and you clear your throat to regain yourself.

The air becomes a little thicker than before and no amount of alcohol can save you from the blood pounding in your ears. The space between you has become thinner to the point where you can feel her breath on your lips and you pretend the close proximity holds no effect on you but your trembling fingers say otherwise.

“Mhm, two words,” You murmur affectedly, and Wanda swallows. Your mind is clouded by all that is her so you speak slowly, feeling your throat dry. “Duck Tape.”

“One of these days, I’m gonna throw you out of the building.” Wanda huffs as you snicker, crossing her arms as she tries to fix her hair.

Unable to help it, you tentatively reach your hand out, waiting for Wanda to pull away. When she makes no move, you carefully brush the strands away from her face, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver down her spine.

Pulling away, you meet her hazy gaze and you swallow wryly, trembling. Giving her a lopsided grin as you stumble back, equally as affected. You really have to stop doing that.

“Jokes on you, I’ve already done that tonight.” Comes your attempt to clear the air, resulting in another cross expression from the witch and you smile sheepishly.

“Y/n.”

Sucking your lips into your mouth, you nod. You raise a finger as you take one last sip from your cup, placing it on the table as you grab her hand again. “Right, sorry, dancing.”

Dragging her towards the dance floor, you spared one last look. This time finding pure adoration shining through her features as she stared at you almost…lovingly before she rolled her eyes. A look you preferred to see instead. Even if it had your brain short-circuiting.

A look that thankfully carried on when she found you half crashed into the Christmas tree after Tony had asked you to put up decorations, almost fast asleep.

“You’re an idiot.” Wanda sighed with a slight curl to her lips and you took that as a silent victory. She shook her head as she carried you down the hallway with her magic.

“Yeah, I know…” You mumbled, still grinning which was quickly wiped as she let go of the magic carrying you. “Hey!”

Wanda squeaks as you reach out to grab her, running away the next second and you quickly follow with the promise that you’ll catch her, laughter echoing through the corridors as you chase each other.

—

5. Pillow Forts

Construction wasn’t exactly your forte unless it involved miniature bricks with instruction manuals. Aside from that, it was very obvious that Peter was the more resourceful spider as Steve liked to put it. You knew the man meant well when he said it and your ego completely shattered but despite the mental bruise, you never made a move to practice.

It wasn’t like stopping trains or stringing a boat back together required much engineering when you had webs stickier than epoxy.

And now, veins popping, sunk to your knees, you deeply regretted that decision. You wanted to strangle Peter, you envied his master builder abilities. The jumble of pillows on the floor mocking you with a stare that you could only describe as insulting if pillows could…stare.

It was pathetic really, no, extremely pathetic and sad. Who has trouble building a pillow fort?! What was supposed to be a simple project, was the newfound bane of your existence. No matter how you positioned them, they tumbled. Limiting yourself to building by web fluid was becoming a choice to regret too. It made sense, every superhero grows dependent on their powers, it’s only natural, but this time you were determined to build something without your abilities.

Glancing over at the clock, it read a little past nine—bordering on lines of ten- you bit the inside of your cheek, figuring you probably had a couple of minutes before Wanda’s arrival.

Huffing, you returned your attention to the pillows and took them in your arms once more. This time with determination in your eyes and the thought of who you were building this for, remnant in your head and heart.

As you stood back to admire your finished work, you surprised yourself. It wasn’t perfect and some pillows were more crooked than others but it was comfortable. Just as you had envisioned—from Pinterest boards.

It almost looked just as good as the ones Wanda had built for you after long missions and you wished you had spent less time staring at her and more time focusing on how she was arranging the blankets.

But the fortress only became better when you clicked on the tiny remote, turning on the fairy lights that hugged the curves of the pillows, bringing it all together in a bright vibrant glow and you smiled to yourself as the lights glimmered, imagining how happy Wanda would be.

Your eyes returned to the clock and immediately widened next. “Shit!” You gasped, rushing upstairs to pick out the main attraction, silently scolding yourself for forgetting in the first place; Sitcoms.

You grumbled to yourself as you dug through the drawer at the multitudes of never-ending options. Wanda had always preferred to watch sitcoms on a VHS tape, although the compound had access to all streaming services she claimed it didn’t feel the same. Truth be told, you didn’t understand why they were in your room in the first place but you assumed it had to do with the fact that Wanda always left them, tucked neatly in her nightstand before she curled underneath the covers with you.

You paused.

Her nightstand?

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked across the room, realizing that there were a lot of things she left behind. Ranging from articles of clothing to a spare toothbrush in your bedroom and since when did you get decorative pillows? And why were there so many?

You shrugged the thought off, assuming she was just really forgetful, besides it wasn’t like you were usually sleeping here anyway. You continued to dig through the classics until your eyes landed on the familiar I Love Lucy cover.

Bingo

Smiling to yourself, you walked downstairs with the tape pocketed. Now you just had to be patient and wait a few until Wanda arrived from the hanger—

“Y/n?” Your heart startles and you're clutching your chest, turning to scold whoever scared you before the words die in your throat as you take in her appearance.

You suck in a deep breath because you feel as if all the air in your lungs has been taken.

She was breathtaking without even trying. Wet strands of hair clung to her face as she stared at you incredulously, eyes flickering between you and the fortress. Clad in nothing but a loose graphic t-shirt (that you briefly recognized as your own), and shorts that were making you dizzy.

You cursed yourself mentally, shaking yourself out of any inappropriate thoughts. She’s your best friend for God's sake!

“Surprise?” That is what you say with a weak smile and a much higher pitch than intended. Keep it subtle. Things weren’t going entirely as planned, however, you could improvise.

Wanda stares back amused, an unfamiliar glint in her eyes pooling, taking a step closer until her hand is dragging against your forearm. “Dorogoy, what’s all this?”

“I built it for us, I figured maybe you’d like to unwind…I know you had it pretty hard today and you’ve looked stressed all week.” You mumbled meekly, shifting against her touch. Pull it together man.

“Really?” She picked up her head, looking at you adoringly–that you missed from the bundle of nerves wracking at your mind, mistaking the look for one of contempt.

But you pushed forward, believing it was a nice gesture. And even though all the logical parts of your brain tell you not to, you slowly untangle yourself from the witch anyway, missing the hurt that crosses her expression.

You didn’t know why you were so nervous today.

“Yeah, I picked out your favorite too.” You say half breathlessly, reaching for the tape in your pocket to show her. “Snacks and sitcoms, and more if you need anything. I’ve just gotta set up the TV before this and all since you came back a little earlier than I expected.”

During your rant, you walked towards the television to find the player. Fiddling with it to distract yourself from the rising goosebumps picking at your body, but Wanda didn’t need to know that. With your back turned you failed to notice the scene unfolding behind you. Her eyes were slightly watered and she lingered by your side. Part of her, hesitant to reach out so instead she let them fall to her side, fiddling with her sleeves in a manner of comfort.

Rummaging through the cabinets you exclaimed as you found it, turning forward with the device held to your chest, completely oblivious of the inner turmoil you’ve caused inside the other girl.

“Maybe even grab some popcorn unless you’d prefer chips? Seriously Wanda, whatever you want, I just want you to feel better—”

“Y/n?” She cuts in.

“Yeah?”

“Hug me, please?” She whispers, her voice cracking with desperation, her eyes unable to meet yours, ashamed of the vulnerability, and waves of regret crawl over you for letting go of her in the first place. “I’m sorry, I just really missed you and things went pretty badly- I just–”

It’s you who cuts her off next, pulling her into your embrace, feeling her tremble against you. Wanda chokes back a sob, and tears blur your vision as you hold her tightly.

You whisper words of comfort, murmuring, ‘I know, it’s okay, I know.’, while cradling her head against your chest. Despite being only slightly taller than her, you fit together perfectly, and you rest your head atop her chin. She exhales softly, her breath hitching with each shudder as she inhales your scent. Her arms move from your chest to return the embrace, burrowing herself into your chest and clinging to you as if you’d vanish again.

After a few moments, Wanda’s breathing begins to even, but she shows no signs of releasing you anytime soon. You gently squeeze her waist, hoping to draw her attention. Pressing a kiss to her hair, murmuring softly as you ask:

“Is…Is there anything else you need?”

Sighing, Wanda shakes her head, nuzzling further into you. “Just you, I don’t need anything else.”

“Okay.” You mumble into her hair, your fingers tracing gentle patterns across her back. For a moment, you stand there, bodies swaying softly as you hold each other. Selfishly allowing yourself to soak in the feeling of having her so close to you. “But if you even dare to grab my Cool Ranch Doritos just know I told you—”

Wanda groans, and you stifle your laughter when her hand playfully smacks your shoulder. You can almost feel her eyes rolling.

“Shut up, I don’t even like those.”

“Yeah right! I can still see the crumbs on your chin from last time!” You laugh in disbelief and Wanda pulls back gaping, completely affronted.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many! It was a party-sized bag—that I was planning on saving by the way, and you finished it!”

“Oh my god, just get in the fort before I change my mind and leave.”

It doesn’t take a lot of convincing to get you in the fort when soft hands lace into your own, dragging you inside. You’re more than willing to follow her anywhere.

She’s quick to push you into the pile of pillows, laughing when you squeal from the sudden impact. Shuffling underneath your arm and making herself comfortable against you, she turns to look up at you with a smile and you quickly turn into a flustered mess. With how she’s looking at you, you can’t help but feel that she’s doing it on purpose.

Using her magic Wanda’s able to connect the TV from your position, not once disconnecting your bodies. She smiles in success when it works, sinking further into the comforting atmosphere as the show plays softly in the background.

As the lights glimmer between your bodies, Wanda finds herself more captivated by you than the show itself. How could she not? After you’ve devoted so much of your time just to make her smile. A pang of gratitude hits Wanda’s heart, mingling with a feeling she knows all too well—a feeling she had tried to pass off as something smaller than love. But the more she spent with you, the more she realized it was pointless to deny.

Part of her hoped you’d choose to stay, to stay with her, because she isn’t sure how she’d be without you.

Wanda knew she was letting it get into her head—but then you look at her, tenderly, as if she was the only girl in the world and fantasies resurfaced along with uncontrollable feelings that felt stronger than herself. Fantasies of one day being together, like this forever. Not just one singular moment but for the rest of your lives.

The feeling of your body vibrating with laughter quickly snaps her out of her senses and she turns to look at the screen where a joke plays out. And god is that feeling one of her favorites. What drives her crazy is how you don’t seem to even notice how affected you make her. The way your hands would gradually grow bolder, slowly slipping past the hem of her shirt and grazing the skin underneath, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake. And how, whether consciously or not, you’d tighten your grip around her, pulling her in closer in a possessively deliberate way that had her biting her lip.

Was it really selfish to want more?

The thought swirled in Wanda’s mind heavily, but unbeknownst to her, it was in yours too.

Wanda yearned for more than fleeting touches that led to nowhere. She craved more than unspoken vows you carried in silence, being too afraid to say anything, mortified by the thought of ruining what you had—unknowingly missing how you could have better.

Wanda Maximoff wanted to be yours.

The thought awoke her with a slight jolt and it had taken her a second to comprehend that she was asleep, the TV long since turned off then. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recalled her vivid imaginations, realizing what had been originally just a second of resting her eyes had resulted in a 3-hour nap.

But with the thoughts still fresh in her mind, Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care. She was on a mission.

“Y/n?” Her voice calls out slightly hoarse, breaking the silence. But the silence remains unbroken and Wanda frowns, removing her head from your shoulder to look at you.

You’re sound asleep next to her, a faint trail of drool lining your lips. Bags are evident below your eyelids, and Wanda lets out a small ‘oh’. You had fallen asleep too.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Wanda shook her head softly, an amused smile playing on her lips as she admired you. Deciding that confessions could wait for another time, she leaned back and tugged a blanket forward, encasing you both again into that warm atmosphere.

Recalling words you had said before: “A little back pain is worth the sleep”. She couldn’t help but agree more when it was next to you.

—

Together

There were two things you loved more than being Spider-Man in the world.

Lightsabers, and maybe potentially Wanda.

The latter being much more intimate than the first but you get the jist. The point was, that you liked Wanda. You were sure of it, with everything in your mind, body, and soul.

So, why were you avoiding her?

Cowardice.

Weeks had passed since that night. You still vividly remember the feeling of waking up to Wanda’s sleeping form, resting comfortably on top of you. After all, it was the best sleep you’ve had in a while.

The sight had initially startled you, but what scared you most was the normalcy of it all. The domesticity, how bright Wanda’s eyes shone in the daylight, looking at you as if you were a treasure from the depths of Atlantis. How eager she was to make you breakfast and how her touch never left yours throughout the process.

Miles away in New York, you could still feel her.

“Chocolate or blueberry?” Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side to look at you.

The familiar scent of pancakes wafted through the air and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before the team came to steal them all.

Your hold remained firm on her waist as you hugged her from behind, swaying softly to the tunes of nothing. Not wanting the moment to end just yet, you remained silent, allowing yourself to bask in the peace. But Wanda had other plans, quickly squeezing at your arm to grab your attention and you rolled your eyes, amused by her impatience.

Posing a thoughtful expression, you eyed the batter before turning to the basket of blueberries. They looked fresh, not too ripe to be sour, and not too soft to be soggy.

“Hmmm, how good are the blueberries?”

Wanda shrugged absentmindedly, whisking at the batter as she leaned back into you, stealing whatever warmth she could. “Pretty good, I grew them myself.”

The mental image of Wanda in her gardening gear made you smile a little more than expected, and you hid into her shoulder, inhaling her scent. Absolutely hooked.

“Did you?” You reply, watching as Wanda nods her head shyly and you chuckle. Unintentionally dragging your lips across her cheek as you press delicate kisses to her skin, murmuring softly in her ear, “What a talented little witch.”

Wanda laughs, blushing as she attempts to shrug you away, not really understanding why you’re being so touchy but not opposed to it either. “Stop it.”

Your lips tug into a lazy grin as you laugh with her, avoiding her attacks and keeping your grip firm. “It’s true Wands…you’re great at everything really. Never once have you failed to amaze me—“

“Here, try this.” That is all she says before shoving multiple berries into your mouth, distracting you before you can pay too much attention to her flustered state.

You gasp at the sudden impact but graciously accept the blueberries into your mouth, playfully glaring at her as you chew. Her nose scrunches adorably, turning in your arms to watch you eat them, her face lighting up and offering you some more.

Though, when you lift your hand to take them, she swats it away. Cupping your cheeks in her hands, softly stroking at your face with her thumbs, you rolled your eyes. Complying with rosy cheeks as she fed them to you.

As you held her, the world outside seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, wrapped in a safe haven you’ve created. This moment was everything—a fragile glimpse into a future you desperately wanted but were too afraid to reach for.

Although neither of you seemed too keen on parting, Wanda’s hands were preoccupied with the feel of your skin underneath her own, repeating senseless patterns. That is until the oven goes off with a loud bang and you both break away bashfully.

Before you can make a move, Wanda lets out a deep breath. Hands gently smoothing over your shirt, her touch lingering with tender care. She pats your chest softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

“Blueberries it is.”

You run a hand over your face as the memory washes over you, letting out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t affect you this much, and you didn’t want to read into it because that would require acceptance.

The risk of ruining something you held so dearly hurts you more than the silence you keep. Heroes aren’t supposed to be afraid, and yet it’s all you felt in your heart at the thought of losing her. But your heart ached for more, just even the slightest glimpse into what could be. And when you closed your eyes, you could almost see it. An alluring figure stringing you along, captivating you with their lush green eyes, promising you that they’d be yours forever.

But those were dreams, not real life.

A real-life you wanted with Wanda.

You slowly sink into your thoughts, your mind both your stronghold and a labyrinth of sorrow. As you wipe the tears that blur your vision, you gaze down at the streets of New York. Despite the hour, the city remained wide awake. Citizens walked with pure radiance of confidence, towering buildings seeming so distant and away from where you sat. Did they know? Did anyone know that one of their beloved Spider-mans was capable of turning a mess so easily?

The weight of it all feels suffocating and no amount of air can prevent the tightness that clogs at your throat, heavy breaths leaving your body as you recount your errors. You were raised to believe that love was this grand, amazing thing. But now you want to scoff at everyone who fed into your hopelessness, fed into those lies. If love was so wonderful, then how come it hurt so much?

But then, without warning your senses are ringing, and your eyes widen as a figure lands in your space with a slight stumble. The clouds of smoke that surround them make it hard for you to tell who it is and you raise your hand, ready to attack.

And then, recognition dawns on you as the smoke settles. Your body easily relaxes and loosens the grip on your strayed mask next to you. With a trembling exhale, you lower your hand to take a moment to breathe, drawing in a deep calming breath and your lungs silently thank you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony greets, exiting his suit with a lopsided smile. One that doesn’t quite meet his eyes but you know better than to pry.

“Tony?” You furrow your brows, wanting to ask why he’s here but the bag in his hands tells you all you need to know. “Another late-night donut run?”

“Pepper thinks I should lay off the suits for a while.” He explains with a sigh, grunting as he sits down next to you, rattling the bag in his hands for emphasis. “And donuts are the only thing that both keep me busy and fulfilled. Win-win don’t you think?”

“Depends on what type of donuts you picked.” You mused with a hum.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Long John.” He retorts with a smirk, reaching into his bag to place a donut in your hands. Patting your shoulder as he did so. “Here, for your troubles.”

You cocked your head curiously, examining the sweet with a soft smile. “A maple bar, sweet.”

Thanking him, you took slow soft bites, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth as you looked towards the city in thought. You felt Tony’s stare and tried your best to ignore it, not wanting pity.

“In my entire years of living, not once have I ever seen someone looking so sad while holding a donut.” He commented, taking a bite of his own donut and you release a sigh. “It’s really depressing to look at.”

He spoke between bites, causing you to grimace. Backing away, you studied your mentor incredulously, analyzing his facial features in the hope it’d give you a clue as to why exactly he was here. Finding nothing, but an unusual softness to his features, you raised a wary brow.

“Did you come all this way just to patronize me, Stark?” You sneered with a glare. Feeling like the donut was really just bait to lure you into a conversation.

Which you had admittedly been postponing from both Steve and him, using the city as an excuse to step away from your problems. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with you again.

And here he was, the tightness behind his eyes diminishing as he stared at you, carefully, with laces of soft affection instead. You weren’t sure if you liked this look.

“A little birdie—or should I say spider, told me about your troubles with our resident Maximoff and I figured it’s time you got advice from the love doctor.” His hand came to his chest, motioning to himself and you scoffed in disbelief before turning into one of disgust. “And listen, I love Pietro, but I really don’t think—“

“Pietro?! Ew, god, no.” You say hurriedly, eager to dispel those rumors. Your distaste quickly turns into irritation as you realize with an offended gasp. “Is Peter seriously going around and spreading this?! Tony what the fuck.”

“Right, witchy then.” He sucks his teeth, waving a finger your way and you shove at his shoulders with embarrassment. Not letting that deter him, he scratches his chin, posing a thoughtful expression as he begins, “Love is scary, isn’t it? You’re scared. Scared of messing things up, scared of hurting her, losing her—“

“This is really inspiring Tony.”

“Pipe down Pipsqueak I’m not finished,” He huffed, clearing his throat before returning to his speech. “The point in all this is that you’re afraid. And that’s okay, so long as you don’t let those fears hold you back. Hell I’m still scared Pepper will leave me for someone more sensible, someone who won’t constantly be putting her in danger.”

His admission doesn’t come easy, and you notice the frown and crease in his eyebrows as he says so. Releasing another breath, you think about his words, and how fear could hold someone back. Reflecting on the past days, all you notice is clear examples of how it’s done this, stopping you from chasing what you really want. Still, you shake your head, voice cracking as you admit:

“I just don't want her to get hurt, or get hurt.“

Tony blinks, looking at you with an emotion you don’t know. But in his eyes, he sees himself, speaking gently, “You’ll never know if you don’t try, Y/n.”

“Think about it.” Comes the last thing he’s to say as he stands up with a grunt. Hands dusting himself off and bending over to grab his bag, pointing to you with a reassuring grin.

The words swirl around your head like a roundabout, leading to only one conclusion and you know what you have to do. Face those fears, even if the words get stuck in your throat. Before Tony can get too far, you stand up, stammering on your words as you thank him.

Tony nods inside his suit, propelling himself as he speaks. “Anytime, stay in school, and help Peter with his history homework will you?”

You shake your head, chuckling softly and Tony ruffles your hair, flying off with a booming “Ciao!” Leaving you alone to collect yourself, bidding him goodbye.

Placing the last bit of the donut in your mouth, you slip on your mask. Launching yourself through the city to reach your destination, flying past buildings and deep into the wooded suburbs where you’d find the compound.

There wasn’t a world in which you could successfully avoid Wanda, not forever at least. It was torture for yourself too these past few days, and you’d be dammed if you did it again.

As you reached the vicinity, fear washed over you again, your heart beating rapidly the closer you approached. Tony’s words rang in your mind and you huffed, ignoring whatever your senses were telling you and letting your emotions speak louder.

Rest could wait until later, for now, you had a witch to confront—confess to.

You decided to take the easier route, being her window as you had down many nights prior. As you swung towards the wall, you found yourself stuck. Hanging from the rooftop, hand frozen midair as you stared at your reflection, was this really a good idea? In the middle of the night?

It was a tranquil, beautiful night, with fresh air flowing through the trees, and the only source of light being the soft glow of the moon. Your eyes softly traced through the beauty of nature, losing yourself in the picturesque landscape. Perfect conditions for an Avenger to catch some sleep in and you quickly found yourself double thinking by her window. Anxiety crawls through you—what if she was asleep already and didn’t wanna see you? Surely you shouldn’t interfere with Wanda’s beauty sleep. Or should you—?

“Did you really come all this way to see me just to hang outside of my window like a creep?” Your heart startled at the sudden voice and you didn’t even notice when Wanda had opened the window but there she was, a crooked smile on her lips with a curious tilt to her head.

The moonlight only enhanced Wanda's beauty further, and you knew you were staring. But you couldn’t tear your gaze away, mesmerized, counting every freckle you could spot; dreaming of one day kissing each speck you could find.

You wondered if women like Wanda inspired philosophers to write the most beautiful sayings because you’re certain if you had the intelligence you’d do the same. It’s only when Wanda cleared her throat, a small blush tinting her cheeks, that you turned away.

You sighed to try and collect yourself, letting your previous anxieties disappear. “Well, you know how much I love hanging out with you.” You joked, grinning at the groan Wanda let out as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“Dork.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged.

“Most definitely.” She says before moving closer, touching the ridges of your mask, and your heart races when she pulls it down just the slightest. You lean eagerly against her palm without a second thought, savoring her touch. It feels as if time freezes, and you realize how intensely you’ve missed Wanda these past days.

You think Wanda feels the same with how she looks at you, hand tracing the small scar etched into your chin with a frown. Her hand shutters a bright red and you lean into it like second nature, knowing what she seeks; to feel you. Something that came often after missions back home, a reminder that you were still here, but as you opened your eyes to stare back into her own, it felt different. Dangerously close to intimate and emotions build against your throat, constricting you because you can’t handle how close you are. How close you could be to changing things. Your defenses fly up again and you’re inching away despite not being able to get far with Wanda keeping you still–so you rack your brain, trying to find something to say to ease the tension—deflect, maybe a joke?

But any witty retort you had is quickly forgotten as Wanda hesitantly leans closer, testing the waters, and freezing you on the spot. You’re sure Wanda can hear your heart racing, but she doesn’t seem to care. It’s only when you make no motion of moving that she brings your mouths together. And you think you’ve just taken a glimpse into heaven.

It's just as sweet as you imagined and more. Her lips are soft and sweet and welcoming, easily enveloping you in all that is her, something you fall into hopelessly yet again. You want to ask why she chose now to do this, but you don’t want to part. The position is less than ideal, and sure your neck is straining but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Wanda’s the first to pull away, equally taken by surprise by her actions, a deep flush taking her the next second with a small shy smile and you feel yourself swoon.

You hesitate as you try to speak again, find the proper words to say but Wanda stops you, taking off your mask properly and lifting herself off the frame, walking back into her room. She throws your mask aimlessly away behind her desk but you’re not paying too much attention to it.

“Why don’t you come inside for once? Catch some real sleep, on a real bed.” She suggests invitingly, throwing you a playful look over her shoulder. You let out a breathless chuckle, flipping yourself over to enter her window, and closing it behind you in one smooth motion.

Wanda doesn’t say much else as you help her un-tuck the sheets, shooting you an appreciative glance and you pause, realizing it is her from your dreams. She’s the girl. The girl you can’t escape at night. It baffles you how you didn’t see her sooner. And suddenly you understand.

You understand why you’re always thinking of her, why even in your sleep you don’t wish to leave. It’s not just some crush you’ve been harboring, no, it’s something more intimate. And you want to say it’s love, but you want to say it better. Not when you’re both so absorbed in the moment, so you wait, because for Wanda Maximoff you’d wait for any length.

“I do sleep.” You spoke softly, ignoring how nervous her stare was making you and the stare made you believe that she already knew. You sucked in a breath, knowing if you didn’t say it now you wouldn’t say it ever, “I’d just sleep better with you.”

Wanda’s eyes widened in surprise before softening in a way that made your resolve crumble and you looked away with a clumsy smile. It feels like a silly confession to make, but unbeknownst to you, it’s enough confirmation for Wanda.

Shuffling into the sheets, you turn to meet Wanda only for her to advance on you the next second into a much more tender kiss than before. It’s soft and a reassurance that she feels the same way, her lips tasting of strawberries and love. You melt into the kiss once again, placing your hand on her wrist that holds your face in place, deepening it to convey.

“I’ll keep you to that,” Wanda murmurs between kisses, placing one last peck on your lips before curling in closer to your body, hiding in the crook of your neck. You chuckle and wrap your arms around her.

Her presence enveloped you instantaneously, reducing every muscle in your body into mush; a wave of relief washed over you, almost in disbelief that this was real. It was almost overwhelming, how easily you found peace in her arms. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill as you realized that this simple moment was all you had ever wanted–a night of rest with the girl you cared for most, free from all the world's problems and whatever else dared to ruin you.

As if she could sense something was wrong, the witch shuffled closer, her lips tenderly grazing against the skin of your neck and you tensed as she pressed. Her lips lingered against your skin, repeating the process over and over until you relaxed as if to say I know, it’s okay. When her legs intertwined with yours, you didn’t resist, understanding that she needed you just as much as you needed her. Instead, you held her tighter as if she could slip away if you didn’t.

Truly believing that this was where you were supposed to be.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x y/n #wanda my beloved #5 + 1 things #marvel #wlw post #spider!reader #spaghetti cooks

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celestie0 · 6 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach.

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her.

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?”

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.”

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long.

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore.

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights.

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you.

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give.

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes.

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong.

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.”

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth.

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck.

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field.

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed.

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too.

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!”

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before.

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck.

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.”

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.”

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess.

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that.

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair.

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.”

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.”

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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onlyswan · 1 year

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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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onlymingyus · 4 months

Text

Shut Up

pairing; wen junhui x f reader (ft. xu minghao)

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff

summary; You think you know about the world around you, but one day you find out you don't know anything. When you start to fall about it's your boss Wen Junhui who picks up the pieces and keeps you safe.

content warnings; a lot of dark themes including: sexual assault, murder, guns, knives, beating, fighting, selling of guns, selling/using drugs, alcohol/eating, crying and dealing with trauma, mild dubcon. mob boss!junhui, second in command!minghao, security!mingyu, assistant!reader.

smut warnings; hard mean dom!junhui, sub!reader, dom!minhao. unprotected/protected sex, creampie, threesome, multiple sex scenes, rough sex, impact play, degrading, pet names, degrading names, dumbfication/objectfication to a degree, hand job, fingering, oral (m&f receiving & giving), crying/dacryphilia, innocence kink (no explicitly said), breast play, body worship. I am very certain I have left something out.

w/c; 35.9k and some change | read the 900 bonus on my patreon

a/n; this fic is for my @onlyhuis. thank you for not only editing this for me but supporting me every single word along the way. i hope you enjoy this one so so much my little huihui. with that said -- this fic is VERY dark and could be a lot for some of you to read. please be sure to read the warnings before reading so that you are prepared for what you are reading.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“I literally don’t give a fuck. Get his ass out of my sight.”

Your brows raise as you look down at the tablet in your arms when the sound of your boss's voice rings through the bar. Someone had pissed him off and you were just happy it wasn’t you this time. Wen Junhui was an important man to a lot of people and for a lot of reasons, most of those reasons you chose to ignore and just do your job.

There were a lot of things in your job that you had to ignore in order to keep it. Things like money appearing in large quantities with little to no explanation and meeting someone only to never see them again after they opened their mouth just a little too much.

Glancing towards Jun’s office, you watch as one such man is being pulled out by Xu Minghao, Jun’s second in command. You meet the desperate man’s eyes only briefly before dropping yours, but it’s enough to give him hope as he pulls against Minghao’s arms, trying to move back towards the bar where you were standing.

“Hey! Hey, lady, pretty lady! I'm in here all the time. You ‘member me right?”

Scoffing, Minghao shakes his head, nodding towards security at the front door for help. You watch under lowered lashes as Kim Mingyu takes one of the man’s arms, helping Minghao drag him towards the exit as he continues to ask you for help.

“I had the fuckin’ money! This is bullshit!”

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding when Minghao walked back through the door, letting Mingyu shut it behind them. Wiping his hands off on the front of his shirt, the man lifts his eyebrows at you as you try to look busy with your previous task.

“You’ve been told not to look at trash when I’m taking it out. You don’t remember things very well to be so pretty, Y/N.”

Sighing, you finally meet Minghao’s eyes as he leans against the bar in front of you. You knew what you had been told; it was just that it was easier said than done to ignore something kicking and screaming as they were being dragged out of a building.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone to the back when I heard Mr. Wen ye–express his displeasure.”

You watch as a smirk pulls at one side of Minghao’s lips when you correct how you talk about your boss and his best friend. He had a soft spot for you and he knew you were doing your best.

“‘Least you know what you should've done.”

“Hao!”

Looking back towards Jun’s office when his name is called, Minghao purses his lips and pats the bar with his hand before giving you one more lingering look. You watch him until he disappears into your boss’s office and the door is left cracked so that only a low conversation can be heard.

You spent most of your days and nights at Moonlight Lounge. Since you had been introduced to Jun and taken on the unique position of his personal assistant, your life had changed dramatically. You were in charge of managing most of his personal accounts—but never his business accounts—and you were the one who kept his schedule to the minute.

“Y/N!”

Hearing your name being yelled by Jun wasn’t an unusual occurrence but he didn’t sound pleased, though that wasn’t a new fact either. You weren’t friends with your boss and you weren’t sure if you ever would be.

Holding the tablet closer to your chest, you glance towards Mingyu, who grimaces at how your name was said before turning away as you turn towards the office door. Everyone knew that one moment could make or break how your day was going to go at the lounge, and you had caused more of a disturbance by looking at the man as he had been dragged out.

Knocking on the door, you slip inside, feeling two sets of eyes on you as Minghao sits against a sidebar console on the right of Jun’s desk and Jun himself sits behind the large desk with a frown on his face. Lifting your eyes you try to skirt around Jun’s eyes but the man leans his head to catch your gaze before sighing and pushing his tongue into his cheek.

“Sit down. Jesus Christ…”

He was in a mood and there was nothing you could do to change it. Slipping into the leather chair, you clear your throat and rest your tablet on your lap, straightening your spine so that you feel taller and less small under Jun’s gaze. Lifting his hand, he pushes his glasses up his nose before reaching for the tumbler of whiskey in front of him, taking a sip and sitting it down hard.

“Tonight we have some important guests coming to the lounge. I want to make sure we have some of the girls prepared to serve them but I want you to steer clear of that section.”

Furrowing your brows, you give him a confused look when he doesn’t yell at you for what happened but instead goes to your task for the night. Glancing towards Minghao, you slide the pen from your tablet and stutter for a moment before opening the notepad to take notes.

“I–wh–oh…sure. Do I know who the guests are? So that I can tell them? And so that I can make sure there are adequate refreshments for their visit.”

Jun narrows his eyes at you before letting them move along your frame appraisingly as you switch into assistant mode and out of scared little kitten mode. You were stunning and when you wanted to be, you could be fierce. You had shown it on more than one occasion but Jun still had an urge to keep a close eye on you, like he did anything else that belonged to him.

“They are…” Smirking, Jun looks over to Minghao, lifting his hands in a question before sighing. “Competition and nothing more, darling. Don’t give them top shelf; we don’t serve that to those who don’t deserve it.”

Swallowing hard at the pet name, you make some limited notes as Jun watches you carefully. It wasn’t the first time he had called you darling or some other variation of a pet name, but it still made you nervous every single time. Rolling his eyes, Minghao crosses his arms and leans his head back as he watches Jun stare at you. He knew exactly what he was doing, even if you didn’t.

“I think that handles everything. Make sure they are happy, but not too happy. I want them to be jealous of what they can’t achieve. You get what I’m saying?”

Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, making Jun tilt his head as he watches intently. You mutter to yourself, writing down a few of the waitress's names along with your suggestions for how the guests should be handled before looking up to meet Jun’s eyes and feeling your cheeks burn at how he is looking at you.

“Uh, yeah, I mean, yes, sir, Mr. Wen. I’ll take care of everything.”

Gesturing towards the door, Jun smirks as you pop up out of your seat quickly, ready to leave. He knew he was intense and he knew you were crumbling under him. He wanted you under him in more ways than one, but he had patience and an inkling of respect about him.

“Good girl. I’ll see you tonight then.”

Counting the bottles of alcohol as they are loaded onto the tray, you shake your head, reaching for one as one of the waitresses passes by you.

“I told you, Mr. Wen said, ‘no top shelf’.”

Stopping, the girl gives you a nervous look as she glances from you towards the VIP section that she had been tasked with by you. You could hear the loud laughter of the men over the music coming from the lounge, even from where you stood at the bar.

“I know, it’s just—they asked for it. They kinda scare me, Y/N. Can’t I just give them that bottle?”

Looking at the bottle of expensive vodka in your hand, you narrow your eyes at where you knew the men were before rolling your eyes at the girl’s words. It wasn’t her fault. Most of the clientele at the Moonlight Lounge could be rough around the edges but it seemed this particular group was even worse.

You could hear Jun’s voice echoing in your head as you put the bottle behind the bar and took the tray from the younger girl, making her whisper a small thank you in return. You knew you were going against what you had been told to do, the rules, and your better judgment… but it was better you than some helpless waitress.

Luckily, you had dressed for the night. Donning a tight black turtleneck sleeveless dress that ended at your thighs, your thigh high boots finished off your outfit, making you look classy enough to pass as management. Swallowing hard, you put on your best face as you approach the curved booth, seeing a group of three unfamiliar men. You could tell they at least felt important and had some money to their name from the amount on the table, the baggies of white powder, and gold on their fingers.

“Your drinks, gentlemen.”

Putting the tray down on the table, you can feel as the man to your right leans out to examine you from head to toe. There was no mistaking what he was looking at or how he was looking at you like a piece of meat as the other two laughed before reaching for the various bottles of booze in front of them.

“Hey, hey…nah, sweetheart. We ordered Beluga vodka, not this rubbing alcohol shit.”

Stepping back from the table, you try to stay out of reach of the man’s grasp, causing all three of the men to scoff at your reaction.

“Mm, I’m aware of your order... Mr. —?”

“You can just call me Sir, baby, and you can get your pretty little ass back to that bar and get me my fucking vodka if you are so goddamn aware of it.”

Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you can feel the frustration rising in you as you try to keep your composure. You didn’t want to insult the guests, but you also didn’t enjoy being talked to the way you were. Meeting the eye of the man who referred to himself as "Sir," you lift your brow and decide to stand your ground, shaking your head.

“I won’t be doing that. These are the drinks you are allowed to have by Mr. Wen and you will enjoy them or you won't, Sir. Have a good night.”

Turning on your heels, you feel good about how you ended the conversation. You can feel the pressure of the conflict lifting off you as you round the corner and enter the hallway, getting away from the constant bass of the music and the smell of the alcohol. You don’t see the pissed off look on the man’s face as you disrespect him and you don’t hear as he says he won’t let you get off that easy.

The rest of the night goes by like every other without incident. You find yourself yawning as you walk through the parking lot towards your car, your hand in your purse, when hands push you forward hard. The feeling of the breath being knocked out of your lungs is the first thing that you feel as your chest meets the side of your car, the next is lips against your cheek as you hear the sound of the man’s voice, Sir.

“Pretty little bitch... you have fun disrespecting me tonight?”

Pushing back against him, you find that you can’t move with how tightly his fingers dig into your arms as his body pushes into yours from behind. Tears well up in your eyes from anger and fear as you try to look around the dark parking lot for anyone, but you were almost always the last person to leave the bar every night.

“Please…stop.”

You feel the man’s lips pull up in a smirk as he pulls your arms behind you so he can hold them with one hand, freeing up one of his hands. With his free hand, he tugs at your dress, pulling it towards your hip, even as you stomp your feet back at his boots, making him laugh. That is when you hear the other two men, who had been with him inside, laugh.

“What’s your name? Nah, you know what? I don’t give a fuck. Just another little whore that works for Wen.” Hearing your boss’s name, you let out a loud scream, causing the man to push you against your car over your hood as his fingers trailed along your inner thigh upwards. “He likes to throw out the trash. We can show you where when we are done. Have you ever seen?”

The next sound you hear is a loud pop, followed by two others. You can only scream when the man collapses on top of you, something warm and wet soaking through the back of your dress as you struggle under him. The weight of his body is pulled from you and a hand is placed over your eyes as you start to flail your arms to fight.

“Y/N! Stop, it’s me. Shh…darling. Stop…I’ll move my hand, but keep your eyes closed for me?”

Jun’s voice and his arm moving around your waist to pull you back around against him like an anchor help calm you down. You hold his wrist tightly to your stomach, feeling his hand move from over your eyes as you keep them shut tightly out of fear of what you would see if you did open them. The smell of copper fills your nose.

You feel hands tug your dress back down around your thighs when Jun finally pries his arm from your grasp and then a warm coat placed around your shoulders. When he tries to step away, leaving you standing there with your eyes closed, you start to panic, prompting him to shush you, his fingers running over your cheek as he leans you against your car.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving you. Keep those eyes closed.”

Nodding, you hold tightly to the leather and fur jacket around your arms as you listen to the hushed voices of Jun, Minghao, and Mingyu. You hear the sounds of something heavy being dragged along the pavement and then the slamming of a trunk causes you to jump.

Jun watches you as Mingyu grunts, lifting the last of the trash off the ground and into one of the trunks. He had gotten lucky that you had screamed and that he had known you hadn’t listened to him earlier. He knew you had gone to their table but he never thought something this drastic would happen.

“Motherfuckers…”

Nodding along with Minghao’s words, Jun runs his fingers through his hair before letting out a long sigh. He knew there were people who would come looking for those who had done this to you and there were those who had seen you talking to them at the table tonight.

“What do you wanna do about Y/N?”

Pursing his lips, Jun watches as you visibly tremble a few feet away from them. You weren’t safe anymore and he couldn’t just let you go back to your apartment and hope for the best.

“I’ll handle it.”

Furrowing his brows, Minghao lifts his hands in confusion before moving towards Mingyu to close the last trunk as Jun moves back to you. You can feel his hands ghost over your arms before they finally rest on your biceps and he takes a breath, tilting his head and looking at your furrowed brow.

“You can open your eyes now, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you find you're afraid to. What would you see? Would there be blood everywhere? Bodies? Whimpering, you open one eye only to see Jun in front of you before you open both eyes and glance around you.

Tears stream down your cheeks when you notice the dark spots on the pavement, because you know what they are. You know what is running down your back through your dress and it makes your stomach tighten. Lifting his hand, Jun runs his fingers over your cheek and shakes his head.

“You can’t go home. It’s not safe… you understand that, right?”

Shrugging, you try to speak but all you can do is let out a sob. Jun’s thumb continues to stroke your cheek as he watches you intently, almost studying you.

“I’m going to take you to my penthouse. You can stay with me for a while. I’ll keep you safe.”

It doesn’t dawn on you where you are or what that means until you are standing in Jun’s living room, looking out of the large window to the city below. You can feel the weight of everything around you, just like you can feel the dried blood on your back, causing your dress to stick to your skin.

Furrowing his brows, Jun watches you as he keeps his voice low with his cellphone resting between his shoulder and his ear. You had been quiet since he had put you in his car and told you that you couldn’t go back to your apartment. He had told you at least three times why you couldn’t, but maybe now it was sinking in for you.

“No, just grab some of her clothes and put them in a bag. I’ll buy new shit if I need to, but for now, I think she’d want her own things.”

Rolling his eyes at Minghao’s response, Jun leans against his sofa, glancing down at his nails at some dried blood caked under them, making him grimace.

“Hao, just do it, alright? I don’t wanna fuckin’ argue with you right now. Drop it off in the morning.”

Hanging up the phone, Jun lifts his eyes back to you as he sighs. He knew you were scared and confused, but that was the world that he was living in and it was the world that you started living in the moment you took your job. He couldn’t help but want to protect you from it still, just like he had shielded your eyes at the lounge.

“Y/N, I am having Minghao pick up some of your personal items so that perhaps it will feel a bit more comfortable here.”

Scoffing, you pull the borrowed jacket around you tighter, hearing your boss get closer to you. In truth, you were frightened of him just as much as you were thankful to him for saving you. You weren’t sure how his large penthouse could ever feel comfortable for you.

Pushing his tongue into his cheek out of annoyance at your reaction, Jun moves to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the window. Lifting his hands to your arms, Jun feels your body stiffen under his touch before he sighs, leaning forward to speak next to your ear.

“I will never hurt you, darling. I took care of those who did, remember?”

Watching you nod, Jun feels your shoulders relax some so that he can slide his jacket down your arms, making you whine at the feeling of what was left. Your dress felt stiff and ruined, making you shift uncomfortably.

“I know, Mr. Wen. I-I..I’m grateful. Could I just... I want to go home. I want to go take a shower and go to bed.”

Jun frowns as he watches you struggle with your words. He knew there was blood on your skin and it made him furious. Leaning back to look over your frame, he shakes his head at your words and at his own assessment of your condition, noting the trail of blood running down the back of your thigh.

“I’ve explained it to you multiple times. You aren’t safe there, but here you are.” Meeting your eyes in the reflection of the window, Jun lifts his brows as you frown at him. “You can shower here and I’ll find you something to wear. You’ll sleep just fine here with me, where you are safe. Do I make myself clear?”

When you don’t answer right away, Jun rolls his eyes, turning you towards him so that he can look you in the eyes instead of just at your reflection. The look in his eyes is a mixture of intense and concerned, making you flustered and confused as you find yourself nodding in agreement.

“Good girl. Come on.”

Taking your hand into his, Jun takes the time to point out various rooms before leading you into a large bedroom.

“You are welcome to anything in the kitchen and nothing is off limits to you. I just ask that you follow my rules while you are here.” Sighing, Jun gestures towards the ensuite as he continues to speak to you, dropping your hand. “You can use my shower.”

Moving towards the dresser across from the end of the bed, he mutters under his breath to himself, too low for you to understand, as you watch him in disbelief.

“Uh…Mr. Wen?”

Humming out a response, Jun furrows his brows, taking out one of his black cotton shirts and turning back towards you. He could see the confusion in your eyes, but he wasn’t sure what there was to be confused about. He had explained everything.

“What? Also, let’s cut the formality, shall we? Just call me Jun. I’m going to get annoyed with the ‘Mr. Wen’ bullshit.”

The idea of calling your boss by his first name makes your head spin, but you find yourself even more taken aback as he kneels in front of you to unzip your boots. Glancing up at you, Jun lifts his hand as if to say ‘go on’ before helping you lift your leg, slipping your foot out of your shoe.

“I—um…okay. I could do that… But I was just going to say, isn't there a guest bathroom that I can use the shower in?”

Lifting his brow as if you had just slapped him, Jun meets your eyes, removing your other boot and tossing it over his shoulder. You watch him stand as he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief at your obviously stupid question.

“Of course I do, kitten. Clearly, I have guest rooms, but I don’t want you to use those showers. I brought you to mine. It’s called keeping an eye on you. I’ve explained this.”

You could hear the annoyance in his breath at having to repeat himself. You were frustrated at having to hear him say it again and again, but it wasn’t making any sense. You were in some sort of twilight zone and you needed to wake up. Maybe that was all this was—a dream. You hadn’t been attacked. No one had been shot and your boss wasn’t lacing his fingers with yours, leading you into his bathroom.

Jun watches you as he leans into his large shower to turn on the water. You were standing with your eyes closed, almost as if you could make something appear or disappear in front of you, but as soon as the water turned on, you jumped, and he tightened his grip on your hand. You were right back to acting like that scared little kitten from his office earlier in the day. He could see your eyes darting around to avoid him and the moment his hand was away from yours, you were wandering away from him towards the counter, making him groan out of frustration.

“Do I need to do everything?”

Your eyes snap to Jun when he questions you and starts to move towards you once again. You can feel panic rise in your chest at the idea of what he might do even if you know he isn’t trying to hurt you. All you can think about in your head is the hand of the man from the lounge on your thigh tugging your dress up.

“No! I–I can! I can do it!”

Jun furrows his brows when you yell at him. He could see the fear in your eyes when you looked at him even though he had promised not to hurt you, but he couldn’t really fault you. Of course you would be scared of someone being that close after what happened. Taking a step back he puts up his hands to show you he’s not going to do something you don’t want.

“Okay, I’ll be right outside the room then. I’m not trying to upset you, Y/N. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it. I’m… fuck—I’m trying to help you.”

You watch as Jun gives you one last look, a sad almost wounded look in his eyes as he watches your hands shake when you reach out to hold onto the counter in front of you for stability. You could tell he was struggling to leave you alone and the moment, but he was doing it for you.

Reaching the door Jun groans under this breath, lifting his hand to run it through his hair as he leans against the wall just outside of the bathroom. He remembered the desperation locked in your gaze and the confusion. As much as you wanted to play a tough act and go home, he could picture you wandering some dark, dingy apartment in your blood stained dress for hours. You needed someone to take care of you.

Closing your eyes for a moment once you are alone in the bathroom, you feel your legs tremble as the weight of the day seems to close in around you. The quartz of the counter under your fingertips feels like fragile glass and the silence feels like a roaring wave and you realize that this is what it would be like to be at home alone. You didn’t have a roommate, there was no family waiting for you. You would just be sitting on your bed completely alone stuck in a never ending silence as the world collapsed around you.

Tears stream down your face as you reach for the end of your dress trying to pull on it in an attempt to try to undress yourself but it’s all too much. Opening your eyes, you search the door for Jun letting out a soft sob of his name just wanting him to come back realizing you can’t do this without him. It didn’t make sense but he was a buoy keeping you from drifting off into the middle of the sea.

Hearing his name whispered between your sobs, Jun furrows his brows looking around the door frame to meet your eyes. The sight of you almost breaks his heart and makes him move to you taking your face into his hand as he rests his other against the counter. Sighing, Jun shakes his head studying your pretty face as you shake your head prompting him to help you.

“Y/N, you need to take your clothes off.” You lean into Jun’s touch as his thumb strums against your cheekbone. He waits for you to nod before he steps away and leans against the counter, glancing down trying to give you back some privacy. He was going to stay where you needed him, but he was going to let you try to do this yourself.

Sniffing back your tears you move your eyes from Jun and towards the mirror in front of you as you once again try to work up the courage to pull up your dress. When your eyes meet yourself in the steamed up mirror, they fall to a smear of dried blood on the side of your neck right above the top of your turtleneck.

Jun furrows his brows, listening to the sounds of your breath quickening to the point of panic, his hands tighten at his side before he mutters, ‘fuck, and looks up to see you still dressed, rubbing your hand at the blood on your neck. Moving to you, he takes your hand, with one hand wrapping the other around your waist, to pull you back against him, shushing you.

“Leave it. That’s what the water is for, baby. I was going to just—well, stand here and make sure you were okay but if you can’t even undress yourself—”

Fingers slide from your waist to your thigh, carefully bunching your dress up your thigh, making you put your hand over Jun’s. Lifting his brows, he meets your eyes in the mirror, waiting for you to move your trembling hand giving him permission to continue. Jun takes a step back and slides your dress up your body. You feel shame and something else wash over you as Jun hums softly, helping you work the dress over your head before dropping it onto the counter.

Luckily and unluckily for Jun, his eyes were moving over your back and to the dried blood that had transferred onto your body through your dress. While he was enjoying the view of your body on display in front of him, the idea of it being tainted by some piece of trash’s blood was enough to keep him from getting aroused. He needed to get you clean.

This was not a situation you ever thought you would find yourself in—in your underwear, in your boss’s bathroom as he undressed you—but as Jun ran his hands along your arms soothingly, you found yourself somehow relaxing. Even under his intense gaze, there was a calm in the storm.

“These next, okay, Y/N?”

Swallowing hard, you nod and lift your hands, resting them over the cups of your bra as you feel the garment give way as Jun’s fingers undo the clasp. The straps fall down your shoulders and you lower your eyes, moving one hand and then the other before covering your breasts once again.

Shaking his head at how you try to keep your modesty, Jun takes a breath, pushing his fingers into top of your panties at your hips and pushing them down before letting gravity do the rest. What was the point of your need for modesty now? You were stunning and if it weren’t for the blood spoiling his view, Jun would have let you know then.

“Go ahead, darling... I’ll be right here.”

Leaning back against the counter, Jun lifts his brow at you as you shift sideways, trying to keep yourself covered, sliding into the glass shower and pulling the door closed behind you. The steam gave you some privacy, but it still allowed you to see where Jun was, which for some reason, made you feel at ease.

Glancing back down at his nails, Jun takes a deep breath, hearing the water hitting your body before it hits the shower floor. It was a welcomed sound and one that he hoped to enjoy for himself once you were safely tucked away in his bed.

Running his thumbnail under his index nail to clean out the blood he had seen earlier, Jun glances towards the shower, watching you lean your head back as the water rains down over you. He could see the dark red washing down the drain at your feet and he hoped that you would be able to get it all off without him.

“Y/N…Let the water hit your back for a bit.”

You furrow your brows at Jun’s voice, looking over your shoulder at him meeting his eyes through the glass. You knew that was where your dress had been sticking to you the most. Nodding, you step to your right, letting the water hit your back before you glance down at your feet.

Jun is quick to open the door when you let out a loud gasp, your hand reaching for the door as you see the blood going down the drain. Tears mix with the water running down your face as Jun pulls you against him, stepping under the shower with you.

Your eyes drop back down to the drain where your feet rest between Jun’s. You see blood mixing with water running over his feet and yours before you lean your head back against his shoulder, feeling his wet shirt against your neck.

“You’re getting your clothes wet, Jun.” Sniffing between sobs, you look back down seeing less blood going down the drain but it was still enough to make you tremble in his arms. “And the blood… it’s on your feet.”

Jun shakes his head, stepping away from you, keeping one hand on your arm as he uses the other to run it over your lower back, rubbing away the blood before glancing up at your face.

“You’re worried about my clothes getting wet?”

Smiling into his words, Jun sighs and furrows his brows carefully, swiping at some blood on your ass before moving to your thighs as he keeps talking, feeling you looking back at him as he focuses.

“The blood isn’t yours or mine, that’s what is important. And it’s going down the drain where it belongs.” Pursing his lips, Jun meets your eyes briefly before wanting to once again distract you, protect you from looking at any more blood going down the drain. “What did I tell you when I hired you?”

Shaking your head, you look at Jun, confused at why he would even be asking you something like that when you are so upset. Lifting your hand you swipe at tears and water on your face scoffing until he speaks again.

“Tell me, Y/N.”

His voice is stern but there is a layer of kindness to it that you were starting to get used to tonight. It was comforting and made you want to recall the conversation for him.

“You—uh, you said that I was too sweet for the job. You said it would break me.”

Nodding, Jun tilts his head, turning you to face him and glancing down the length of your body. At first, you feel incredibly exposed and self conscious, but after a moment, you realize he doesn’t even seem to be looking at your body but instead for blood. Finally, his eyes lift to meet yours and he licks water from his lips, taking a step back from you.

“Now I have to put you back together...”

Running a towel over his wet hair, Jun leans against the door frame, looking at you curled up on his bed. You seemed to be finally resting after he had left you to get dressed in the t-shirt he had pulled from his dresser so he could take his own shower. In truth, he had worried you might try to wander off in the penthouse or even out of it, but he was happy to see you on his bed. Your bare legs were pulled up slightly as the comforter rested at your knees.

Before, Jun had been more focused on making sure you were okay. He had been able to keep himself from letting his eyes look over your body in anything other than concern, but now as you lay in his bed in his clothes, it was harder to do that.

Swallowing hard, Jun glances down at his bare chest, running the towel in his hand over some drops of water that had fallen from his hair before tossing the towel into the hamper and moving into the bedroom. He was already dressed in sweatpants, but he didn’t feel the need to put on anything else, knowing he was just going to lay down on the bed near you. Jun was tired, but he had a feeling it would be a restless night.

Your eyes follow Jun as he moves around his bed, lifting his hand to run his fingers through the wet strands. You can’t help but let your eyes move over his torso and arms. While you were having one of the worst days in your life, the man in front of you was treating you with the most care you had ever experienced on that worst day, and he looked like he was chiseled from stone.

Pushing your head down so that your lips are under your arm, you shift slightly when Jun lays down beside you. Staying quiet, your brows furrow as he groans under his breath, feeling the weight of the day in his back. He hadn’t looked over at you yet, but you find yourself furrowing your brows in concern as his eyes close tightly and he arches his back to stretch it.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice is soft, and Jun’s brows relax the moment it reaches his ears. He had thought you were asleep. His bed was big enough that he wasn’t that close to you and he knew he wasn’t being so loud that he would have woken you up, unless you were an incredibly light sleeper—clearly you hadn’t been asleep as he thought. Glancing over to you as he rests back on the bed, Jun lets his eyes move over your face as you hide half of it behind your arm. You were too pretty to hide like that but it wasn’t the time to make you do anything different.

“‘Course. Your turn to worry about me now?”

You can’t help but smile at Jun’s words before rolling your eyes, knowing he’s teasing you. You can see the small smile pulling at his lips as he turns on his side to face you; his arm is almost long enough that his fingers are able to brush your arm, but he doesn’t.

“I was just asking. You sounded like you were in pain. I–” Moving your arm so you can speak more clearly, you watch as Jun’s brows furrow once again when your arm ends up against his fingers. “I’m just… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t want your apology and he didn’t need it. Sighing, Jun adjusts his head on his arm, testing the waters as he rests the back of his index finger against your arm and runs his thumb along the side of it gently as he talks, feeling goosebumps spread under his touch.

“Shit happens when you live like we do, Y/N. I told you that. I knew who those pricks were and what they were capable of. I didn’t want them around you for a reason.”

Your eyes shift to where Jun’s fingers rest against your arm as you listen to him speak. You know that you can move or ask him to stop, but you find yourself not wanting either of those things. There is comfort in his touch. It’s the same comfort that you felt from the moment he put his hands over your eyes to shield you from what he had done to save you.

“I know. I shouldn’t have gone against that… It’s just—if it hadn’t been me, it would have been one of the others. I think I know that now. None of the girls were comfortable.”

Taking in a deep breath, Jun nods, drawing a small circle with his thumb near your wrist before wrapping his fingers around it, lightly letting your arm rest in his palm.

“If we want to point fingers, there are plenty to point in all directions. I shouldn’t have allowed them into the bar. I knew what they were… I know who they work for.”

Your fingers tremble as you lift your eyes to meet Jun’s. With how he is holding your wrist in his, you are able to drop your hand and rest it on the inside of his forearm, the tips of your fingers brushing over his skin. You watch him for a moment, watching the way his lips fall open to the sensation before Jun licks his lips and glances at yours as you speak.

“I don’t blame you. I—well honestly, before... when we were in your car, I probably wanted to.”

A smile pulls at Jun’s lips when you confess your thoughts to him. Your touch was so light, yet it made his skin feel like it was on fire. It was such an innocent thing and it had him trying so hard to keep himself in check.

“Yeah? What changed?”

Furrowing your brows, you analyze Jun’s smile. You had seen many of his smiles in the few months that you had been working for him but this one was different. If anyone had asked you to describe your boss before tonight, you would have called him stern, cold, indifferent, and even cruel. Watching Jun now, the way his brows furrow and then relax with worry as you stay quiet for longer than he would like, you know it would be different. The man you were getting to know now was guarded, caring, and warm.

“You did.”

The sound of voices pulls you from your sleep. Glancing around the unfamiliar room, you start panicking at first, reaching for where Jun had been, only to find the smooth satin sheet under your fingers. It’s only the sound of his voice and that of his laughter that brings your heart rate back down, making you realize he hadn’t left you; he was just in another room.

Furrowing your brows, you try to listen carefully to what Jun is saying and who else is talking when it dawns on you that the other voice belongs to Minghao. The next thing that hits you is the smell of food and the sound of your stomach growling. It had been far too long since you had eaten and you were starting to feel it.

Sitting up, you glance around for something to put on your lower half, only for a smile to pull at your lips when you notice a familiar bag next to the end of the bed. Jun had told you that Minghao was going to bring you things from your place and it had seemed that both had kept their promise. Sliding from the bed, you glance towards the door before pulling the bag up and onto the floor, opening it to see what had been packed for you.

Jun glances back down the hall for the umpteenth time, making Minghao roll his eyes with a smirk on his face. He had seen Jun watch you at the bar, but it was never this bad. Sure, Minghao understood the gravity of what had happened, but it wasn’t like there was danger lingering in the doorway to the bedroom at all times. You were simply sleeping in after a difficult day.

“She’s fine. Stop being such a fuckin—”

Pointing the kitchen knife in the direction of his best friend, Jun stops Minghao before he starts. He knew he would never actually hurt him; however, that didn’t make Jun any less threatening with a sharp object in his hands. Lifting his hands from his thighs, Minghao leans back on the kitchen bar stool, his eyes falling to the vegetables that Jun had been cutting up to go into the omelette he was making for you.

“Fine… so sensitive in the morning. You’ve never cooked for me.”

Scoffing, Jun adds the chives to his bowl as he meets Minghao’s eyes, whisking them in with the eggs.

"Well, I don’t like you so...”

You couldn’t help the smile that was pulling at your lips as you watched the two men bantering in the kitchen. You didn’t want to interrupt them, but after you had gotten dressed in some of the jeans and a long sleeved shirt, you followed their voices and the smell of the food. Now you were leaning against the tall cabinets, biting at your thumbnail, trying to stay quiet until Minghao noticed you and his brows raised in interest.

Jun wasn’t the only one that found you attractive; maybe he was just a bit more forward with it, but Minghao couldn’t help but let his eyes move over you in the simple outfit. Taking a breath, the man drops his eyes when Jun notices him staring over his shoulder, making him curious at what could be so interesting that Minghao’s face had lit up. One glance in your direction told him everything he needed to know.

“Hey, morning. I’m making you some food. Come here… Do uh—you like eggs? I don’t actually know.”

Still smiling, you feel your cheeks burn at their attention as Minghao peeks back up to watch you moving closer, your bare feet on the tile as you glance into the pan, watching the omelette cook.

“It smells so good. I do like eggs. I should be cooking for you, though.”

Scoffing, Jun turns his body so there is no way you could take the pan from him after hearing you laugh softly. His eyes follow you as you move around the island to take a seat next to Minghao, who presses his lips together before looking over at you. Jun furrows his brows at the man’s reaction. It was like he was attracted to you, but that was ridiculous, right?

“Morning, Minghao. Thank you for bringing me stuff from my house.”

Smirking softly, Minghao nods, his eyes moving along your face as his fingers slowly tap against his arm.

“No problem. I didn’t have a choice anyway, but it wasn’t the worst thing this asshole has ever made me do.”

Jun rolls his eyes as he tilts the pan towards a plate, letting the omelette slide out onto it. He knew that while Minghao was teasing him, he also wasn’t lying. There had been plenty that he had asked of him, and asking him to pack up a few things from your house was one of the easiest things he had ever done.

Sliding the plate across the island, Jun watches as you smile up at him, taking it with a small thank you before you pick up the fork and glance at both of the men with a laugh. Neither of them had food in front of them and Jun was already cleaning up where he had been cooking.

“Wait? You aren’t going to eat too?”

Leaning back in his chair, Minghao shakes his head. He extends his arm to rest it on the back of your chair out of habit as he looks towards Jun, who sighs softly, using his forearm to turn on the sink.

“We already did. You slept in, Y/N. Don’t worry about us; eat up. You want something to drink?”

Cutting into the omelette, you sigh, glancing towards Minghao as he asks you about a drink. Why are both of them taking care of you now? The look in his eyes was so similar to Jun’s when he took the time to dry you off after your shower before pulling his shirt down over your body.

“Um… yes?”

Nodding as he slides out of his chair, Minghao moves around Jun as if he belongs in the penthouse, opening the fridge to take out a pitcher of juice. You watch as the men exchange a few words in passing, with Jun passing a glass to Minghao before the glass is then slid over to you. Taking your first bite of food, you let out a breath through your nose in disbelief at how both of them are acting compared to how you remember watching Minghao drag a man out of Jun’s office the day before.

“What? You don’t like orange juice? Everyone likes orange juice, doll.”

After a couple of days of being in Jun’s penthouse, you were starting to go stir crazy. You were feeling more like yourself and it was getting harder and harder to act normal around Jun while sleeping next to him every night. While Jun had his office in his penthouse and all of the comforts of his home around him, you were a visitor with a bag and wandering eyes.

Jun had gone to great lengths to try to keep you entertained. He had given you access to his credit cards and a laptop, which you refused to use. You had access to his entire penthouse, including a pool, and yet you were sitting on the reading sofa in his office. Glancing up from his desk over his glasses as you sigh for what he could only assume was the twentieth time in the last hour, his resolve breaks.

“Y/N… are you struggling to breathe, darling?”

Looking up from your phone, you pout at Jun as he uses his index finger to pull his glasses down his nose, getting a better look at you from the distance from the desk to the sofa. You could feel your mouth go dry at how he was looking at you. There was a sense of danger in his gaze. You could tell he was annoyed with you, but so were you. Worst of all, you were bored, and you were starting to get homesick.

“Maybe. It’s stuffy in this penthouse. I want to go out.”

Scoffing, Jun pushes his glasses back up his nose, looking back at his computer screen. You have already tried this a few times today. He knew you wanted to leave, but you were forgetting how much danger you were in. The trauma was starting to be masked by impatience. Meanwhile, he was often reminded of just how real the danger was.

“I bet you do. Go for a swim, then you’ll be outside, darling.”

Leaning your head back, you groan like a petulant child being told no. Smirking to himself at your reaction, Jun clicks through the pictures of the burned cars from his personal garage located at the bar. You hear him sigh, his brow lifting as he rolls his neck. That aura of danger is very present as anger washes over him.

“Motherfucker…”

Furrowing your brows, you sit up as if you are going to move towards him when Jun looks at you, making you change your mind.

“I–what’s wrong?”

Jun simply shakes his head and lifts his hand, pushing his lips hard with his thumb as he tries to think about how to phrase what he wants to tell you. He didn’t want you to be as terrified as you were when he first brought you home and he didn’t want you to be watching over your shoulder every second for the rest of your life. He knew he would have to take care of this problem but that wasn’t something you needed every detail of. No, that was something he could metaphorically shield your eyes from.

“Just… There was some property damage at the bar. Nothing for you to worry about. Nothing that I can’t handle from here.”

You could see there was more on Jun’s mind, but something about that look in his eye made you not want to push the subject much more.

“Okay… “

Furrowing your brows, you sit back on the sofa, watching Jun run his fingers through his hair before he pulls most of it back out of the way. Tilting your head as the minutes pass, you let your eyes move over his face and down to his hands as he works.

Jun glances towards you every few minutes, a smirk pulling up at one side of his lips each time he finds you looking at him, only for you to look away when you get caught. That was becoming a frequent occurrence, and one that he was starting to enjoy. It wasn’t just here that it happened, but also as the two of you lay in bed at night or early in the morning. He would wake up to find your eyes on him before you would close your eyes, pretending to still be asleep.

You were bored; Jun knew that… He also knew you kept thinking about what was going on outside of the penthouse. You were thinking about the bar, your house, friends and family perhaps. You needed a distraction. He could do that. Maybe he had just been holding back too much.

Biting his bottom lip, Jun hears you take a deep breath before he looks over at you to watch you once again look away quickly. You were painfully obvious and so fucking adorable. Reaching over with his left hand, Jun turns off his monitor as he tilts his head, watching you try to look busy scrolling through your phone.

“Kitten?”

Your cheeks burn at the pet name, and your eyes meet Jun’s as you glance at him over your phone. He had called you that name before and many others, but this time the name felt different and it made your thighs press together out of instinct.

Seeing you shift at his voice, Jun runs his tongue along his teeth. He knew you were listening to him and he had an effect on you. That’s all he needed to know. Lifting his right hand, palm up, he bends his index finger back twice, summoning you to him.

Just watching Jun’s finger move, the look on his face is enough to make your skin feel like it’s on fire. You curse at yourself under your breath for the reaction you have before glancing away. You know you shouldn't be acting like you are over your boss, but a sigh falls from his lips along with your name and you are on your feet, moving towards his desk.

Sliding his chair back slightly, Jun follows you with his eyes the entire way until you are standing in front of him. Leaning his head back, he smirks at you, really looking at you for the first time since you stepped into his penthouse. He had been respectful so far, but now you could feel him undressing you with his eyes and you felt exposed and aroused.

Leaning your hand against the desk at your right, you take a deep breath, waiting for Jun to speak. You had a good idea where this was headed, but you weren’t going to make a complete idiot out of yourself by throwing yourself at him. It was bad enough that you were pressing your thighs together in your jeans as you shifted your legs almost uncomfortably as you stood there waiting.

Jun was enjoying making you wait. You looked like a dog waiting for a treat. He had your treat, watching you do the stay command like such a good girl until he said the word. Shifting his legs apart, Jun lets out a breath as he lets his eyes finally move back up to your eyes.

“I’ll ask this first. Do you want this? I won’t make you do anything, but I don’t plan on going easy on you, darling.”

Blinking a few times, you feel your mouth go dry at Jun’s words. You hadn’t been wrong and you had never been so aroused in your entire life. You knew what had happened to you at the bar—the feeling of the man’s hand on your skin—but now, as your eyes move over Jun’s hand, remembering it on your skin as he took care of you afterwards, you find yourself wanting him to cover up that bad feeling with something good. You just didn’t want to give in so easily. Licking your lips, you tilt your head as Jun does the same.

“This? This… what? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Wen.”

Jun sucks his bottom lip between his teeth at your words, feeling his palm itch. You were being a brat and he knew it. You knew exactly what he meant—especially with your “Mr. Wen” bullshit. He could hear the purr in your voice and it was making his pants tight. Lifting his hand, Jun scratches his eyebrow, an unamused laugh slipping from between his lips as you shift to stand on one foot, your other allowing your toes to run along your ankle.

“Mmm, baby.” You can’t help the small smile that plays at your lips when you hear the frustration in Jun’s voice, his eyes moving over your legs and up your body as he speaks. “If you think you can tease me and get away with it, you are going to learn you are sorely mistaken. I’ll ask again, more clearly, and I won’t ask again. Do you want me to fuck you, or not?”

Jun watches as the confidence that you had been building to tease him quickly fades at his question. All that brain power that you had thinking up ways to get him riled up was now being used to picture getting your pussy filled by him. It was cute watching how quickly he could make you crumble. Such a smart girl goes dumb and just nods. Pointing at his lips, Jun signals for you to use your words. By clearing your throat, you try to sound louder than you actually are.

“I–I want you to.”

Nodding along with your words, Jun reaches out to slide his fingers along your hip, pulling you towards him and causing you to stumble, but he is quick to help you settle on his lap.

“Then that’s all you had to say. Isn’t that easier? Brats don’t get things they want, but good girls do. Remember that. I don’t like when my palm itches, kitten.”

Swallowing hard, you glance down to Jun’s hand as he runs it along your thigh. You can’t remember a time when you had fallen so hard in lust with another man. Resting your hand on his chest, you meet Jun’s eyes once again as he leans his head back to watch you closely, his thumb brushing your inner thigh going further up your leg.

“I… um—” Watching your legs spread as you struggle to think straight, Jun smirks, moving his hand to the button keeping your jeans clasped. “I don’t know what that means. What will you do to me if your palm itches?”

Jun grins, his brows lifting at your question. He wasn’t sure if you were still being bratty or seriously asking that question. Pushing his thumb against the clasp of your jeans, he uses his other fingers to work the metal button from its secure hold so that it gives way letting your jeans undo for him.

“Means I’d have to punish you, baby. Don’t make me do that. Understand?”

Lifting his free hand, Jun holds your chin so that you meet his eyes, his other hand sliding along your stomach under your shirt. You sucked in a breath, feeling his thumbnail circle your belly button, Jun’s lips pulled up in a smirk as his words seemed to dawn on your face and you nodded.

“Good girl. Stand up; let me get you out of these clothes. You don’t need them anymore.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you feel your hands tremble as you slide off Jun’s lap to stand between his legs. You didn’t want to be as easy as you were being with him or as quick as you were to listen to him, but his tone of voice had your mouth drooling and your panties sticking to your folds.

Jun tugs at your jeans, pulling them down your legs, letting his eyes move with them. He had seen almost every inch of your body already, but this was completely different. He was able to really drink you in this time. He could allow himself to actually look at you and you were the most stunning thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

Sucking in a breath, Jun’s eyes focus on the wet spot on the center front of your panties as you lift your legs for him, letting him remove your jeans all together. God, you were already so wet for him. He couldn’t wait to see just how wet you were.

Jun wanted to take his time with you but there would be plenty of time for that. He was impatient and his cock was straining against his pants as his hands tugged your panties down your legs. You listen to the groan that slips past his lips and your thighs push together in reaction. The sound was almost sinful as he saw how your folds were glistening in the light.

Glancing up at you, Jun pushes his hands up your stomach, letting you help him pull your shirt up and over your head. His eyes fall to your breasts, his mouth watering, brow lifting. He had wondered if you were wearing anything under your shirt earlier, but respect for you had stopped him from looking too close—now he knew his answer.

“Now you?”

Smirking at your question, Jun shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. He had no plans on getting as naked as you were. He enjoyed seeing you completely naked in front of him. You whine his name, and Jun gives you a faux pout of concern, lifting his hand to tug open the buttons of his shirt.

“You’ll take what I give you and thank me for it.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you try to process what Jun has said to you. No man has ever spoken to you like that and you enjoy it. You find yourself trying to fight the goosebumps that spread over your skin at the idea of him walking this fine line of meanness and caring. Your eyes follow his fingers to the end of his shirt as he tugs it loose from his pants, shifting in his chair. You had seen Jun’s body before, at least his torso and you had appreciated it, but this was different. You wanted to run your hands over every line and ridge of his muscles, but you find yourself standing as still as you can as he keeps his eyes on you, using one hand to undo his belt and pants slowly.

Lifting his hips, Jun pushes his pants and briefs down, letting them fall to his ankles as your mouth falls open in surprise. You had let your eyes wander to his sweatpants more than once. You had curiously looked at his bulge and wondered just how big he might be, but seeing his cock hard and resting back against his abdomen—your heart was racing.

Seeing the expression on your face, Jun couldn’t help feeling his ego expand. He knew he was big, perhaps bigger than some would expect and better than that, and he knew how to use what he had been given. Smirking, he leans his head back, reaching down to wrap his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from tip to base, knowing you were watching him closely.

“Kitten… Your mouth is watering. Tell me—do you want to sit on it or do you want to suck on it?”

Feeling your cheeks burning, you look from Jun’s hands to his eyes and back, stuttering over your words, not sure what to say. He was being so forward and that wasn’t something you were used to.

“Wha—I… I don’t—”

Laughing under his breath, Jun groans, pushing his thumb against his slit and arching his hips upwards towards the feeling as pre-cum drips down his thumb into his palm. Letting go of his cock, Jun lifts his hand and purses his lips once again, bending his finger back towards him to make you come to him. You watch the pre-cum slide over his skin towards his wrist, making your knees feel weak.

“It’s okay, darling. I know you don’t have any thoughts in your pretty head but getting fucked. Get on your knees and let me use that mouth to get my cock wet. Gotta make sure it’s wet enough to squeeze it into your little cunt, don’t we?”

Your head was spinning as Jun’s hand wrapped around your wrist and you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. In the past, you had cussed out guys for much less and turned down tinder dates when they asked to see your pussy, referring to it as your ‘cunt’. Yet, here you were on your knees, wanting Jun to fuck yours.

Kicking one of his legs out of his pants, Jun moves his hand from your wrist to your face as you move between his legs, looking up at him for direction. It was both the most adorable thing and the sexiest thing he had seen in his life. You looked just like that puppy waiting for a treat. Your lips slightly parted, your head tilted back, and your hands on his knees. He felt like he could cum on the spot just looking at you, but he had better control than that, and he had plans for you.

Guiding you forward, Jun uses his other hand to hold his cock, angling it so that his tip rests against your lips. You open your mouth as Jun bites at his bottom lip, a groan caught in his throat when his tip glides along your warm, wet tongue. Nails scratch at your jaw, fingers sliding down while Jun lifts his hips, just slightly pushing his cock even further into your mouth until you close your eyes and tighten your hand on his thigh.

You hadn’t taken all of his cock in your mouth—not even close. You could almost feel him in your throat as Jun held your head still for a moment. Letting go of your head, he lets you move on your own as he leans his head back, groaning your name under his breath.

Jun knew he wasn’t going to be able to let you keep your mouth on him for long. He had plans for you and they didn’t involve him cumming prematurely down your throat, no matter how good you were with your mouth. That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it for a few minutes. It didn’t mean he couldn’t relish in the feeling of you gagging around him as you forced yourself down further on his cock. You weren’t a quitter… Jun could appreciate that.

“Fuuuckk—”

The word is drawn out on a groan as Jun looks down at you on your knees, feeling you finally pull back for air. He meets your eyes and he knows you are going to go back for more, but his hand catches your throat loosely and you stop in your tracks. The action scares you at first. You gasp, your eyes widening, but Jun purses his lips and shakes his head at your panicked whimper as he runs his thumb along your pulse point.

“You think I’d ever fucking hurt you? Princess…no. I’d wear your ass out and then kiss it better, but I’d never actually hurt you in a way you wouldn’t like.”

Using a bit of pressure to urge you to stand, Jun lifts you by your throat as you stand on your own. Looking up at you, he grins as you shiver in his grasp, leaning towards him, finally relaxing as he slides his hand towards your collarbone.

“Red, if you want me to stop; if anything hurts or scares you too much. Yellow, if you need to slow down or if you need a break. Green, if you are okay. If I ask you for your color, you don’t hesitate to tell me. Understand?”

Nodding, you lick your lips as Jun’s free hand slides over your hip before he guides you towards his desk.

“Good girl. Up you go.”

You give him a confused look until Jun stands, kicking his foot free of his pants as both his hands move to your waist, lifting you on to his desk. Stepping between your legs, Jun smirks down at you as you lean back slightly, trying to avoid pushing any of his paperwork or supplies out of your way.

“So timid and sweet after sucking my cock like a slut... what are you so worried about? Some pens and paper?”

Your cheeks burn when Jun degrades you. Leaning one hand against the desk, Jun reaches behind you to swipe most of the files and office supplies onto the floor with a loud clang. You can’t help but jump to the sound as he grins against your ear.

“Now you can lean back without worrying what you might hit. If the computer falls off, I’ll just buy another one. I have a feeling this will make breaking anything in my office worth it.”

Jun laughs when you whine his name and shake your head, trying to argue with him. Leaning back just enough to hover his face in front of yours, Jun watches your mouth fall open when he slides his fingers through your wet folds. His brows furrow at the feeling of your soft folds against his fingers and just how wet you were for him. It was one thing to see it, but it was another to feel it.

“Fuck, baby… You’re dripping on my fingers. You want my cock that bad?”

You can only moan and push your hips towards Jun’s fingers when you feel him push two against your entrance. You want to answer him and defend your dignity, but instead you only prove him right when you sob his name on another moan, feeling his fingers start to stretch you out.

Resting his forehead against yours, Jun smirks at hearing the sweet sounds slipping from between your lips. They were the sounds of his dreams and his daydreams. He could recall many days and nights spent with you in his head and him wondering how you would sound with his fingers stuffed in your pussy, and now he knew. You sounded angelic.

“That’s right… you got my cock all wet, kitten, but now I have to stretch out this tight little hole. Gotta make sure I don’t hurt you.”

Tears collect in your eyes as your nails scratch at the wood under you, feeling a third finger sliding into you. The stretch is intense but welcomed, just like the dirty words being whispered against your lips. Gasping for a breath, you roll your hips down over Jun’s fingers, tilting your head up to brush your lips against Jun’s, testing the waters. A bit of fear ripples through your body like waves in a pool when he doesn’t kiss you back at first. Instead, Jun groans—a sound similar to a growl in his throat—and his fingers push into you hard and deep before he bites at your lips, claiming your kiss for his own.

Jun had wanted to kiss you, but he had been worried. He had been afraid to scare you off with intimacy or perhaps to get too attached. All that faded away when your lips met his and he knew that he was fucked. You were his in every sense of the word as his lips pressed to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and your walls began to tighten around his fingers like a vice.

You reach up to cling to Jun’s jacket, scratching at the soft linen, wishing you could get to the skin as he smirks against your lips, feeling you cum around his fingers. Squeezing your quivering thighs around his body, you try to beg for mercy. Jun laughs into a whispered groan of “again” against your lips, feeling you clamp down on his fingers, another orgasm ripping through your body.

As your body relaxes, Jun carefully slides his fingers out of you, lifting his hand towards his mouth to suck his fingers clean. Your heart races not only from the intensity of your orgasms, but also from the sight of Jun licking your cum from his fingers as he groans in appreciation.

“Delicious… I knew you would be, kitten. Been wanting to do this since the day I hired you.”

Jun grins around his index finger as you press your lips together, obviously embarrassed by his words and how forward he is being with you. He was enjoying every drop of you on his fingers. He wanted to bury his face between your legs and pull an orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but the painful throb of his cock was telling him otherwise.

“Color?”

Swallowing hard, you nod as you take a breath. You knew Jun wanted a verbal answer, you just needed to find the words and your voice after two orgasms. Your mouth felt like cotton and he looked impatient. Licking your dry lips, you let out your breath slowly and finally manage to speak quietly, but it’s enough for Jun.

“Green, I’m okay.”

To Jun, you were more than okay. He could see the look in your eye and he knew you wanted his cock. He had felt how your pussy was sucking his fingers back in, and he had a feeling you’d do the same with his cock. Nodding, Jun lifts his brows, using his hand to angle the head of his cock against your folds so that he pushes against your clit. Hearing you whine, still sensitive, he smirks and tilts his head, knowing he needs to ask more questions, though he wants to just bury himself in you.

“Tell me, darling. When was the last time you had something inside you?”

Your breath quickens as you answer Jun’s question. You were almost afraid to answer him, afraid he wouldn’t like the answer or, worse, that he would like it too much. You were a busy woman and it was his fault.

“A while… probably, I don’t know, six months, maybe closer to seven.”

Jun nods, enjoying the idea of no one has been close to you for the past few months. If he had his way now, no one would be except him. Licking his lips, Jun meets your eyes, leaning his head to the side as you try to look past him, feeling under pressure under his gaze.

“Are you on birth control? Hm?”

He could tell you were surprised by the question. That wasn’t something guys usually ask you. Typically, they would just put on a condom or wait for you to tell them, but Jun was different. When you look taken aback, Jun grins and rolls his eyes, lifting his hand to brush it over your warm cheek as he uses his other to tease your clit again with his cock. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth as you lift your hips, almost instinctively searching for Jun’s cock at the feeling, but Jun just tsks, pushing your hips back down.

“Not so fast, baby. Answer the question. Yes or no? I want to fill you up… but I won’t tonight if you aren’t on —”

“I am! Please, just, oh my god. Stop teasing me?”

Hearing you beg was something special and Jun knew he could get used to the sound of it. He could feel how he was leaking against your folds just from the sound of it and now he wasn’t going to make you wait. Jun watches your face as he pushes into you, the way your mouth falls open as he stretches you slowly.

You knew he had taken time to make you cum on his fingers twice and yet you were clinging to Jun as he slowly eased his cock into you, making sure you could handle him. It wasn’t painful, but by the time he rested his hand against the swell of your ass, scratching his nails against your skin to the feeling of you clenching around him, you felt the fullest you had ever felt.

“Please. Please… Oh, fuck…”

Begging again... Jun groans, feeling his head spin and his stomach tighten at the sound of your voice. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to control himself, but with how you were begging, he wasn’t sure you wanted him to and he had said he wasn’t going to go easy on you. Sliding his hand back to your throat, Jun feels you swallow hard under his palm as his hips meet yours hard, thrusting into you so deeply that tears instantly fall from the corners of your eyes.

You had been with several men over the years, but none of them had ever made you feel like you were simultaneously floating and drowning at the same time. It was hard to catch your breath between the panic of having Jun’s hand on your throat and the pleasure of Jun’s cock hitting you perfectly with every single thrust.

When Jun’s hand tightens around your throat, your hand moves quickly to grab his forearm out of fear of what he is going to do to you. Jun smirks at your reaction before his expression softens. He could tell you were scared, but he needed to show you there was nothing to be scared of.

Watching you carefully, Jun watches your lips fall open in pleasure as your walls tighten around him, your orgasm taking you back over the edge before he squeezes your neck just tight enough that you can’t catch your breath. You feel yourself let go; your brain goes fuzzy, but as soon as you relax around Jun, his hand loosens around your neck and his lips press to your cheek.

“Breathe. A big, deep breath for me, beautiful. There you go. Tell me how fucking good that felt?”

You find it hard to think straight, much less speak, as Jun lifts your knee to his hip, burying his cock so deep that you feel like he is in your stomach. Groaning against your neck, Jun turns his head to press his lips against your soft skin before latching on to it, sucking a deep mark so that you will remember where he was as his climax rolls through him.

With every thrust, Jun pushes his cum back into you until he finally comes to a stop with his hips pressed against yours. Feeling your thighs trembling on either side of him, Jun smiles against your neck with a groan. He knew he needed to move, get you cleaned up, and get all of his cum out of you, but keeping his cock and his cum in you was too tempting. You were warm, tight, and wet. Jun could get used to being inside of you and he could get used to the idea of stuffing you full of his cum.

Leaning back to look down at you, Jun tilts his head as he studies you. He wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to be able to just look at you and read your mind, he wasn’t at the point yet. If he wanted to know something now, he’d have to ask and hope that you told him the truth or that he knew you at least well enough that if you lied to him, he’d know.

“Mm, wasn’t that better than going out, darling?”

Sighing, you can’t stop yourself before you roll your eyes, causing Jun to laugh at your reaction. That was better than lying to him. You were a brat, but he was going to have fun breaking you out of it. Running his finger over your cheek, Jun watches you bite your lip as you run your thigh along his hip to rest your foot over his ass to get comfortable under him.

“It was fun, but I’d still like to go out.”

Taking a breath, Jun narrows his eyes before looking to the side at his computer, which luckily hadn’t fallen off his desk while fucking you. He remembered the pictures of several of his ruined cars and what it could mean for you if you were found by the prick who wanted you. You didn’t understand, and you didn’t really know the situation. Maybe he could compromise with you.

“Tomorrow... for no more than an hour, but you go with Minghao. You aren’t going anywhere alone. Do I make myself clear, Y/N?”

Meeting your eyes, Jun waits for you to nod before he leans to press his lips to yours. A groan slips from his lips as he slowly slips his cock out of you. Your brows furrow at the feeling of being empty and the sticky feeling of cum between your legs.

Stretching his back, Jun glances between your thighs, only to smirk at the sight of his cum starting to drip out of you. He feels his cock already twitch as he feels aroused at the sight. Shaking his head, he runs his fingers through your sensitive folds, pushing two fingers into you and slowly meeting your eyes as your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Mm, what? I don’t want my cum to drip on the floor. You can handle one more, can’t you, honey?”

Glancing over at you, one hand on the wheel, the other resting his thumbnail against his lips, Minghao listens to your sigh as you look at your phone. When he got to the penthouse, he could tell things were different. The air felt different, you looked different, and Jun looked even cockier. But then Jun had grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard that Minghao was sure he had knocked you out, and he knew what was different.

“You fucked him?”

Minghao had been quiet, uncharacteristically so, since he had gotten to the penthouse. You enjoyed Minghao’s company, even before all the drama or before what had happened between you and Jun, so his acting so odd was making you feel unsettled. You were trying to distract yourself and enjoy the feeling of not being cooped up in the penthouse when Minghao’s words shocked you back to reality.

“I—wha—”

“It’s actually not a question. I don’t know why I asked it like that. I know you did. He’s even cockier than normal.”

You feel heat rising along your neck and face as Minghao rolls his neck, a hint of annoyance dripping off his tongue with each word. Why did he care? Was he jealous? Furrowing your brows, you shift in the seat of Mingyu’s G Wagon. You were embarrassed and looking for anything else to talk about.

“I—uh. Why aren’t we… Where is your Ferrari? Did you bring Mingyu’s car to be less conspicuous? ‘Cause I don’t think a G Wagon is much better.”

Rolling his eyes, Minghao leans his head back, glancing over at you with a smirk. He could tell you were flustered and deflecting. It wasn’t going to work.

“Cute, nice try, doll. Uh, I hate this tank. It’s big and unnecessary, just like Gyu. But my car…”

Sighing, Minghao furrows his brows, looking out at the road turning onto the highway that would lead him towards your apartment. He didn’t like that it was where you wanted to go, but it was your request, and Jun had told him, “anywhere she wants to go for an hour”.

“It’s seen better days. It was in the garage when all the others got fucked.”

Furrowing your brows, you give Minghao a confused look, making him give you one right back before his face changes. Jun hadn’t told you what had happened and he had said too much. Clearing his throat, Minghao shakes his head and the corners of his lips turn down as he shrugs, trying to think of how to fix his big mouth.

“Minghao… What happened? You were the one who would usually tell me shit. Don’t do this to me. Don’t I deserve to know?”

You watch as Minghao lets out a drawn out breath once again, leaning his head back against the leather headrest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel before he nods and curses under his breath. He knew this was stupid and that Jun would be pissed off at him, but you weren’t wrong. You deserved to know.

“There was a hit at the lounge. The garage where Jun keeps his cars?” Minghao’s eyes meet yours to make sure you know what he is talking about. When you nod, he continues looking back out at the road. “Someone set every fucking car in that fuckin’ garage on fire. We got lucky that we have a fire suppression system so it kicked in before it spread to the bar.”

Lifting your hands to your lips, you feel your stomach flip with anxiety. You knew Jun had told you about some property damage but the way he had said it, you thought perhaps there was some graffiti on the side of the building or broken windows. This was more than some simple property damage. They were trying to kill people or at least make a point.

Minghao nods, seeing your reaction out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into your building complex’s parking lot. His eyes scan the parking lot before he reaches over your lap to open the glove box, taking out a 9 mm. Meeting your eyes, he lifts his brow at your reaction as he slips the gun into the back of his jeans.

“I just told you what happened at the bar; you think I’m going anywhere without one? Besides, you think I went anywhere without one before? Come on, doll... Use your head. Your time is ticking; your boyfriend wants you home soon.”

Not waiting for your response, Minghao opens his door and slides out of the car, the door slamming hard and making you sigh loudly. You wanted to tell him that Jun wasn’t your boyfriend, but in truth, you weren’t even sure what he was. By the time you start to get out of the car, Minghao has your door open, his brows lifted at your delayed movement. Rolling your eyes, you slide off the seat and stand next to him, closer than you anticipated, as he meets your eyes, letting them fall to your lips once before looking up and away.

Your breath quickens, and your heart begins to race even from the small look shared by the two of you. You find yourself wondering if he had felt the small thing or if you were just too much in your head after everything that had happened between you and Jun in such a short amount of time. Taking your wrist in his hand, Minghao’s eyes scan the parking lot as he slides the keys into his leather jacket, pulling you alongside him towards the building.

“You are walking so fast, Minghao... Why are you mad at me?”

Rolling his eyes at your question, Minghao uses his shoulder to push the door open, letting you move past him before he follows you, taking your hand in his to keep you close to him. You furrow your brows at the feeling, but as he keeps looking behind the two of you until you reach your apartment door, you can only frown at him until he finally answers, letting you take out your keys.

“I’m… It’s not that. I’m not mad at you. I’m doing a fucking job, Y/N. Stop—”

Reaching up with your key, you put your hand on your door when Minghao tells you to stop, but you feel your door giveaway under your touch. Your question had distracted him just enough that he hadn’t noticed the way your door looked ajar. Grabbing your wrist, Minghao pulls you behind him as he uses the other to take out the gun, flipping the safety with his thumb before pushing the door open with his shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if necessary.

You feel your heart in your throat as you cling to Minghao’s leather jacket, your fingernails scratching at the leather out of nerves. He keeps his hand on you even as he kicks your door back in place behind the two of you, not wanting someone to come in behind him. You swallow hard, afraid to close your eyes but also too afraid to peek around Minghao’s arm, nervous that someone will be there and that you will see him use his gun.

“I’m gonna move my hand, Y/N. Stay behind me; you got it.”

Nodding against his back, you sniff back tears, glancing down at your floor and seeing your things scattered. It was obvious that someone had been in your apartment and they were either looking for something or they were mad you weren’t there.

Minghao curses under his breath at the state of your apartment. It had only been a few days since he had been there. You kept a clean, organized place, and now your couch was turned over, your entertainment center was on the floor, and the TV was shattered. He could see empty frames, the pictures taken, or at least you were ripped out of the pictures.

Taking each room slowly, Minghao’s anxiety calms down with each one until he finally realizes that no one is there. Turning to face you, he cups your face with one hand, wiping your tears with his thumb as he puts the safety back on his gun, putting it back into his jeans. Taking out his cellphone, Minghao puts it to his ear and you hear Jun’s voice muffled against his ear as you finally look around, letting out a sob.

Jun sits up, hearing the sound of your fear and sorrow. He was ready to stand up and walk out the door if necessary, but Minghao’s sigh made his brows furrow. Something was wrong, but Minghao didn’t seem distressed, just pissed.

“What the fuck is going on, Hao?”

Lifting your head so he can wipe the other side of your face as you cry, Minghao shushes you, moving you to sit on your bed among some of your clothes that had been pulled from your closet and drawers. He watches you carefully as you pick up one of your dresses, your fingers holding it up realizing it had been ripped to the point that it wasn’t something you could repair. They had destroyed anything they could get their hands on to make a point.

"Fuckers broke into her place. They ransacked it, took pictures, and ripped up her shit.”

Jun’s teeth grind together for multiple reasons. One, he hadn’t wanted you to go back to your apartment. He knew that if this was reversed and he was going after someone, that was the first place he would sit, waiting for the mark to come back. Two, he was furious that they had gone through your stuff and taken personal items. This was worse than his cars. He could replace those, but could he repair your sense of security?

“I—are you fucking stupid? Get her out of there. I’m gonna kill the son of a bitch. Bring her home, Minghao! Or I’ll come get her myself.”

Jaw clenched at Jun’s words, Minghao listens to the phone go silent as Jun hangs up on him. He knew he was upset with him, but he also didn’t blame him. He hadn’t wanted to bring you here in the first place, but Minghao hadn’t wanted to upset you by telling you no. Maybe you needed to get used to hearing it from him.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Scoffing, you gesture around you as Minghao talks about taking you home.

“I am at home!”

Shaking his head, Minghao grabs your arm, pulling you up with some force and making you whine before he leans to rest his forehead against yours, muttering an apology. He didn’t want to scare you, but he needed you to understand how serious this was.

“I’m taking you back to Jun. I’m taking you home. Don’t fucking argue with me.”

You swallow hard, your eyes meeting Minghao’s eyes so close. You nod and lick your lips, turning your arm in his grasp. You wrap your hand around his wrist to make him relax his grip on you. Feeling his body relax under your touch, you nod again, and Minghao tilts his head back to press his lips against your forehead before sighing.

“Good girl. We’ll keep you safe.”

Minghao rests his hand on the small of your back as he watches you kick your shoes off in the entryway of the penthouse. You glance up, hearing Jun’s voice along with another you didn’t recognize. Turning to look at Minghao, he leans his head to the side, gesturing for you to go on as he lets out a breath, hearing how annoyed Jun was.

“Of course it’s Park Bonhwa. Don’t ask stupid fucking questions, Wonwoo. I pay you to be smart and get shit done.”

Looking up at you and Minghao as you move into the living room, Jun narrows his eyes at Minghao before he meets your eyes and sits up, extending his hand for you. You look towards the dark haired man sitting across from Jun as he pushes his glasses up his nose, his eyes avoiding yours as if he knows not to look at you for too long.

Taking Jun’s hand, you take a breath, feeling his thumb press into your palm. You watch as his brows lift, his eyes studying you, moving over every inch of you that he can see as if looking for any signs of injury. It’s only when he is satisfied to see you in one piece, with no damage, that Jun gently tugs at your hand, guiding you to sit down next to him.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry about your place, darling. Use my card to buy what you need, okay?”

You sigh, leaning into Jun’s touch as his fingers move over your cheek as if he has forgotten who was in the room, or more like he doesn’t care. Minghao pushes his tongue against his cheek, moving to the armchair near where you and Jun are sitting. You turn to meet his eyes, pulling away from Jun only slightly to do so, causing the man holding your hand to purse his lips.

“I don’t sue people, Wonwoo. I get even. He’s always been pathetic, but this is a new level of low.”

Wonwoo leans back on the sofa, glancing over to meet Minghao’s eyes as Jun speaks. He didn’t disagree with anything that he had learned or that was being said, but it wasn’t as black or white as Jun was trying to make it out to be. Shaking his head, Wonwoo drums his fingers on his thighs, tilting his head, before he looks back over towards you and Jun.

“He has his fingers in a lot of pots. His casino looks reputable, so I can’t touch that, but... we know that the—” Wonwoo laughs into his words, repeating Jun’s back to him, “‘trash’, had weaknesses. They were at your bar for a reason, right, Minghao?”

Shifting beside you, Jun lifts his hand, stopping Wonwoo and Minghao before they start. There was too much business talk with you present—too much that you didn’t need to know. There were still plenty of things that Jun was trying to protect you from. Both men freeze at just Jun lifting his hand, waiting for him to turn and look at you, a smile on his lips as he brushes his fingers over your cheek.

“Go get my card off my desk and the laptop. I want you to go into the bedroom and shop.”

Narrowing your eyes, you shake your head. You knew what Jun was trying to do. You wanted to know what was going on. You didn’t want to shop and be sent away as things were whispered just out of earshot from you.

“I—no. I don’t want to. Just talk. Why can’t I stay? I wanna know what’s going on, Jun. They fucked up my apartment. They took pictures of me and my family. I deserve to know!”

Minghao glances down at his hands in his lap as you dare to raise your voice at Jun. He didn’t disagree with you, but he also didn’t disagree with Jun. He understood why Jun was keeping you in the dark for so much of this. Jun was trying to keep you pure and fragile. Minghao was just worried that if he kept you fragile for too long, you might shatter.

Clenching his jaw when you raise your voice, Jun tightens his hand on your face, his thumb pressing against your jaw as his fingers hold your cheek, keeping your eyes on his. He could feel you try to turn from him, but he wasn’t going to let you. He knew you were upset, and maybe another day he would allow it, but today wasn’t the day for it. Today wasn’t the day for you to get bold and have strong opinions.

“Shut up. Don’t raise your voice at me again, understand me? I adore you, Y/N, but I won’t take that shit. You have no goddamn idea what’s going on or what I’m doing for you. So do as I told you and I’ll explain things later.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach when Jun tells you to shut up. You have mixed feelings about the man sitting in front of you and what he is saying to you. On one hand, you are furious that he would talk to you like that, especially in front of other people and on the other hand, you find yourself feeling bad for yelling at him. He was right; you didn’t understand and you should be grateful, but how were you supposed to understand if he never told you?

Loosening his grip on your face, Jun watches as your eyes widen only for a few seconds before you nod and lift your hand to wrap it around his wrist. He wasn’t trying to be an asshole to you; he was trying to protect you, even if that meant protecting you from yourself. Leaning in to brush his lips over yours, Jun sighs softly before he pulls back and lets go of you completely.

Sitting for a moment longer, you let your eyes move past Jun to Minghao, who runs his fingers over his lips. Feeling your eyes on him, he glances up to meet yours before looking away quickly. It was clear who was in charge in the room and it wasn’t him or you.

Jun watches you do as he told you to, the door to his office opening, the sound of you moving around for a few minutes before you come back out with a laptop against your chest and his black card in your hand. You walk past the men, meeting Jun’s eyes as he gives you a wink and gestures towards the bedroom.

You knew he probably wanted you to close the door but you also knew that from the living room, unless he stood up and looked, there was no way for him to know. Sitting down on the bed with a loud exhale, you open the laptop and type in a clothing brand to the search bar as you strain your ears to listen to the conversation happening a couple of rooms away.

Running his index finger against his lips, Jun furrows his brows, not hearing the sound of the bedroom door closing. He knew you were probably trying to be sneaky, thinking he wouldn’t know, but he also didn’t have time to deal with every little detail today. At least you weren’t in the room so close that you could catch every word. Turning his attention to Minghao, Jun narrows his eyes as his best friend takes in a deep breath, already ready to be berated for what had happened.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Leaning his head back, Minghao lifts his hands off the arms of the chair with a scoff.

“That she wanted to get some more of her shit from her place and that I was with her so I could protect her. You aren’t the only one who gives a shit—”

Stopping short, Minghao glances back over to Jun, who is obviously biting at his cheek. Taking in a breath to calm himself down, Minghao sits up straighter, leaning over his legs as Wonwoo chews at his lips, feeling like he shouldn’t be there for this conversation.

“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’ll run everything by you, always, from now on. Alright?”

Jun waits a moment, letting Minghao sit in his fuckup, before he nods and looks back over to Wonwoo, who looked like he was trying to be anywhere other than where he was. He liked Jeon Wonwoo; he was a talented lawyer with less than pristine morals. He paid him well for those questionable morals and they were going to come in handy today.

“I’m going to check on Y/N and then I want to go to the bar. Wonwoo, I want you to come with me. I want Bonhwa on the phone or in my office this afternoon. I’m tired of this bullshit.”

Sitting up and lifting his right hand as if to stop Jun before he stands, Wonwoo shakes his head and laughs, obviously confused.

“What— wait? You want to meet with him? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Minghao knew that Jun didn’t like to be questioned. Minghao also knew that Wonwoo knew that so he wasn’t sure why the man would be asking that, but he watched Jun scoff, looking down at his hands as he ran his fingers over his rings.

“I didn’t ask you for your fucking opinion. I told you what I paid you for. Get on your damn phone and make it happen. I’ll be back out here in about…” Looking at his watch, Jun shrugs a smirk on his face already knowing what he had planned. “Fifteen minutes, and then we can go. Minghao, you can stay here and babysit properly this time.”

Starting to speak, Minghao stops when Jun walks around him, slapping his hand down on his shoulder hard before moving through the kitchen towards the open bedroom door. Shaking his head, Jun leans against the doorframe, wondering how long it will take for you to realize he is there as you pout at the laptop in front of you.

“Bought anything cute?”

You had been trying to listen for more conversation, but it had gone silent. You hadn’t expected Jun to speak again so close to you. Jumping, you look towards him, lifting your hand to your chest in surprise, as if protecting your heart. Smirking, Jun moves further into the room, shutting the door behind him and pointing at it as it clicks closed.

“You know how to do that, don’t you? Close doors behind you?”

Rolling your eyes, you look away from him as Jun teases you. Your attitude amuses Jun, a smirk lifting at his lips as you turn your attention back to the laptop, clicking to add a few things to your cart without looking at them too closely. Now you are spending his money out of spite? He could already feel his cock getting hard.

“Aw, Princess, are you that pissed at me? Making me have to correct how you talk to me, and now you are just spending money to spend it?”

Looking up at Jun as you press buy, you lift your brow, not even looking at the total. You watch as his smirk grows and his head shakes. You needed an attitude adjustment. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy watching you spend his money; quite the opposite. In fact, he knew he could probably get off on it, looking over his bank statement, knowing that you had bought yourself nice things with his money, but doing it just to make him mad?

“Close the laptop and slide it out of the way. You need a reminder of a few things, kitten.”

Using your middle finger, you push the laptop closed as Jun chuckles in amusement, his hands already undoing his belt. He could see how you were looking at him. He could tell you were a fan of make-up sex, but that wasn’t what he was giving you. This was a punishment, you’d figure that out in time.

“Lick your fingers.”

Furrowing your brows, you pause for a beat until Jun lifts his brows making you rethink not listening to him. He watches you lift your right hand carefully, running your tongue along the length of your fingers as he pulls his cock from his pants standing in front of you. Running his fingers over your hair, Jun tilts his head knowing your eyes were on his cock, your lips parting wondering if you were going to ask him to put it in your mouth. You didn’t deserve it.

“Hand on my cock, darling. You know what to do. Make me cum, maybe then I’ll know how sorry you are.”

Wrapping your hand around Jun’s cock, you start to stroke him, only to stop at the last sentence he says. You were apologetic about some things, but not all of them. Starting to defy Jun, you loosen your fingers when his hand wraps around yours keeping you in place.

“This little fucking attitude you have today… I’m really damn tired of it. I let you go out, gave you someone to go with you and you used him to go the one place you knew I didn’t want you to go. Use your hand, Y/N or I won’t give you a fucking thing.”

Your breath quickens, your thighs pushing together as Jun looks down at you. You could see the disappointment and lust in his eyes. It was a strange mix, but it was making you feel so many things. You wanted him to forgive you, for it all. You were mad that you had upset him and you wanted him to make you feel good too.

Using your hand, Jun strokes himself a few times before letting you take it back over. You circle his tip with your palm, earning yourself a groan from his throat, before you quicken your pace, wanting to get your prize.

“Fuck, much better. See how good you can be? When you wanna be good?”

Biting at your bottom lip, you whine, shifting on the bed, trying to get some relief from the ache between your legs. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten from just jerking Jun off, listening to his lewd groans, and feeling his eyes burn at your skin as he stares at you.

“Ah–yes! Hold it tighter, shit… stick your tongue out, baby.”

Doing as you are told, you look up at Jun, feeling his hand wrap around yours again, putting more pressure around the base of his cock when you feel warm cum hit your tongue, lips, and chin. Leaning his head back, he smiles as his cock starts to soften in your grip. Sliding your hand under his, Jun shivers, feeling your fingers move over his head, his cum coating your fingers before he takes a step back, pushing himself back into his pants.

Looking down at your hand, you bring it to your lips, licking it clean for a moment, until you realize that Jun isn’t moving over to you. You watch as he uses the mirror on the dresser to fix his hair and jacket before clearing his throat. Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Jun grins at your shocked expression.

“What? Horny? You can wait. I’ll be back in a few hours. Hao is going to stay with you. Be a good girl.”

Your eyes follow Jun out of the room, a smirk on his lips as he moves back into the living room to find Wonwoo’s eyes attempting to stare into the coffee table. Minghao simply glances up at his best friend, rolling his eyes and letting a scoff slip from between his lips.

“You’re disgusting.”

Shrugging, Jun rolls his shoulders, looking over to Wonwoo gesturing for the man to move.

“Did you call him?”

Nodding, Wonwoo gets to his feet quickly, his fingers moving to push his glasses back up his nose as he tries to keep his composure after hearing Jun’s loud groans.

“I…yeah I did. He’s gonna be there in an hour. Said he wants a sample of your product for his time. I told him I’d see what I could do.”

Rolling his eyes, Jun glances back to Minghao as he grabs his keys, lifting his hands in question. Standing up, Minghao nods, and lets out a breath, taking out his cellphone and pressing on Mingyu’s name before putting the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, boss is coming in. No, shut the fuck up. I’m not bringing the wagon back. Listen to me, you fuck! The new product is in, on my end, a gram, nah, two. Put it on his desk.”

Nodding at Jun, Minghao sighs into the phone as Mingyu continues, even as Jun and Wonwoo close the door behind them.

“The fucker that—”

Stopping when he sees you standing in the kitchen with a scowl on your face, Minghao clears his throat and furrows his brows, turning away from you.

“He’s got an appointment. Get your shit together and watch his back. He’s got the lawyer with him, so you know how fucking useless he is. I don’t give a shit if you like him.”

Running your tongue along your teeth, you cross your arms, moving to lean against the end of the kitchen island, watching Minghao closely. You hadn’t exclusively promised to be good when Jun had told you to and he had left you in a less than ideal situation. You watch as Minghao shakes his head, putting his phone back into his pocket, his fingers running through his longer black hair before he turns back to look at you, his eyes moving over you from head to toe, finally landing on your eyes.

“Why do you look so pissed? Didn’t you just get fucked?”

The urge to throw something at Minghao is strong, but you can’t find anything at arm's length. Instead, you just stomp your feet and move towards the couch, falling onto it with a whine. Following you with his eyes, Minghao tilts his head before following you to sit on the arm of the couch, looking you over curiously.

“Why the fuck are you being so dramatic?”

Staring up at him, you can still feel how wet you are from Jun’s teasing. Your eyes move over Minghao’s face, his neck, and the low cut of his t-shirt under his leather jacket. You dare to let them move further to his black jeans, the slight bulge that you had always looked away from out of respect, but now you were so horny you could die. Maybe he was right, you were being dramatic.

His brow raised, Minghao can almost feel your eyes moving over his body, but when they rest over his lap, he can’t help the smirk that pulls up at his lips. Maybe Jun hadn’t fucked you. Was that your problem? Had he left you all hot and bothered?

Minghao knew he should respect you and Jun, especially the latter when it came to boundaries. He knew that Jun would probably kick his ass if he touched you, but maybe he could have a little fun. It was too tempting when you were looking at him like a five course meal and rubbing your thighs together. How had he not noticed that before?

“Ah…aww, doll. Did he leave you untouched? What did he do? Let me guess... from the sounds that were coming from that room, I’m gonna assume he got his rocks off, but he didn’t let his little kitten cum.”

Your eyes widen at Minghao’s words as you sit up on the couch, sliding your legs up towards your stomach. Were you that transparent? Of course, you were. It wasn’t like you were being inconspicuous with how you were looking at Minghao and you were panting like a cat in heat.

Laughing under his breath, Minghao slides down to sit on the couch, sliding his legs apart just enough that he wonders if you would picture yourself on your knees between them. He wonders if you would let him fuck you if he asked. Were you that wound up? He had to keep himself in line. Walk it but never cross it.

“Shut up…”

Your voice is so quiet that Minghao can’t help but lean closer to hear you better. You take in a deep breath and his cologne almost makes you moan. Biting your bottom lip, you look down at your knees as Minghao lifts his eyes to look at your face, his fingers brushing over your cheek, amused to find your skin hot under his touch.

“Isn’t that what Jun told you to do earlier? Is that what he did? Shut you up with his dick? Is that all it takes? A little cock and you straighten up your act.”

Leaning back from Minghao’s touch, you listen to him laugh again, his finger extending so he can tap your nose. Crossing his leg over his knee, Minghao takes a deep breath before sliding his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. Now he was going to ignore you. Granted, he did have a few messages from Mingyu and Jun, but he could also see you shifting beside him. It was cute to watch you squirm.

“Oh my god, doll. Did he say you couldn’t fuck your fingers or something? Or is that an unspoken rule? You are killing me. Making me feel bad for you.”

Whining, you cross your arms and turn away from Minghao. No, Jun hadn’t said specifically that you couldn’t take care of yourself, but you had a strong feeling that it was an unspoken rule. He had told you to be good, but it was getting harder and harder to figure out how to walk that line and again, you hadn’t promised.

“I—he told me to be good.” Sighing into your words, you glance back over to Minghao as he smirks at his phone, answering a message from Jun. “You smell good, Minghao.”

Lifting his brow, Minghao glances at you from the corner of his eye, hitting send on his text before lowering his phone to his lap.

“That so, doll? You so horny you are gonna try to fuck the help?”

Minghao watches your lips tighten into a frown. You shake your head, your brows furrowing tightly. You apparently didn’t approve of what he had said.

“You aren’t the help. Why would you call yourself that? You are Jun’s best friend. You are his most trusted—whatever it is that you do at the bar. I just know that you are important to him. You are important to me. Don’t call yourself the fucking help.”

That hadn’t been the point of what he was trying to say, but your words make Minghao swallow hard. He had been trying to tease you more, but now his mouth felt dry. He was important to you. You thought he was important to Jun. He was trying not to let that go to his head.

Jun pushes his tongue into his cheek as he flicks his finger against the baggie held between his thumb and forefinger. Mingyu had done exactly what Minghao had told him to do. There had been two gram bags on his desk when he had walked in, but looking at them now, he knew he wasn’t giving some piece of shit, low-life both of them. His eyes lift to Wonwoo, who sits across from him in one of the leather chairs as he slips one of the baggies into his jacket before leaning back in his chair, lifting his hands out of impatience.

“I’m getting real fuckin’ tired of waiting, Wonwoo.”

He had started to complain, Wonwoo shifting in his chair, ready to take the heat, when a knock at his office door drew Jun’s attention towards it. Sliding his hand down to his lap, Jun reaches under his desk for the .45 hidden in a holster he had fitted to the underside of a drawer. He didn’t know what to expect after all the bullshit that had happened, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Come in.”

Mingyu pushes the door open and gestures for the man to go in. Lifting his brow towards Jun, Mingyu uses his facial expression to ask the question he wants answered without words. Jun simply gives the man a nod to let him know he is okay, but he watches as Mingyu narrows his eyes at the back of Park Bonhwa’s head, pulling the door shut, leaving it cracked as he stands outside of it.

Looking around the room, Park Bonhwa grins, taking it all in. He was mildly successful. He owned a casino and ran a nice little underground operation of his own. Granted, it wasn’t as “clean” as Jun’s, but that was why he had sent his men into the Moonlight Lounge in the first place. He wanted to know where Jun got his coke, where he got his guns, and how he kept his nose so fucking clean.

Meeting Jun’s eyes, Bonhwa lifts his brows before looking over to Wonwoo, chuckling under his breath. That was half of the answer to his questions. A good lawyer who could sweep shit under the rug. He knew who Jeon Wonwoo was and he knew what Jeon Wonwoo could do in a courtroom.

Sliding into the chair next to the lawyer, Bonhwa gestures towards the baggie in front of Jun as he sucks on his teeth. That was, hopefully, the answer to another question. The cocaine looked clean. It didn’t look like it was cut with anything, which meant Jun was making bank off of pure product.

“That mine? You being that stingy with it, Wen?”

Rolling his eyes, Jun picks up the bag between two fingers, tossing it towards the end of his desk, letting Bonhwa have to reach out to stop it from falling to the floor. Narrowing his eyes, Bonhwa scoffs, holding the bag up to the light before opening it and dipping a finger into the powder.

“That’s a gram that I’m giving you from the generosity of my heart when you deserve nothing. I should beat your ass into the ground, but I don’t like getting blood on my clothes. I hate blood on my shoes.”

Smirking at Jun’s gall, Bonhwa presses his pinky to his tongue, tasting the coke with a tilt of his head. He knew he could get more for this than he was getting for the meth he was running out of the casino, but meth was cheaper and it was hard to find something this pure without an in.

“Such a bitch when I’m the one holding the cards. You can’t touch me and you know it. You fucked me over. Three of my best guys, dead because of some little bitch. So now what do I gotta do?”

Wonwoo starts to speak, hearing the sound of the holster under Jun’s desk click, but Bonhwa tsks, moving his jacket to show Jun his own gun. Closing the baggie in his hand, the man slips it into his jacket and glances at Wonwoo with a smile before looking back at Jun.

“I’d have his brains on the wall before you got that gun from under your desk and even if you managed to shoot me, you think I don’t know where your whore is?” Bonhwa unholsters his gun, laying it in his lap, his thumb flicking the safety off as he leaves it pointed in the direction of Wonwoo. “I had them take her pictures from her apartment for a reason. Her face is in the hands of every single man on my payroll.”

Jun’s jaw tightens, his eyes on the gun in Bonhwa’s lap, as Wonwoo’s fingers tighten on the arm of the chair under him. Cursing under his breath, Jun moves his hand from under his desk, showing the man in front of him that he didn’t bring his gun with him so that he wouldn’t kill his lawyer.

“Your men touched something they shouldn’t have. Can you blame me for protecting something that belongs to me? You’d react the same way.”

Nodding, Bonhwa flicks the safety back in place but keeps his gun on his lap, looking back over to Jun.

“You took three from me. Three for one woman. Doesn’t seem fair now, does it? The way I see it, you owe me an eye for an eye.”

Jun narrows his eyes, watching Bonhwa smirk, a laugh slipping from his lips as he adjusts in his seat, lifting his hand to gesture towards him.

“Or something of equal value. Information perhaps, like where your product is shipped in from.”

Wonwoo meets Jun’s eyes and gives him a quick shake of his head to tell him to keep that information to himself. Jun starts to speak when Bonhwa’s hand moves quicker than his, the gun smacking Wonwoo across the side of the head with a deafening thud. Moving to his feet quickly, Jun hears the door open as Bonhwa laughs at being pulled up from his chair by Mingyu.

With his hand to his head, Wonwoo blinks as blood runs down his face, his glasses in his lap, listening to the sounds of fists hitting muscle. He groans at the pain radiating through his head and face as Bonhwa laughs through his own pain before Jun tells Mingyu to stop.

With his hand in Bonhwa’s shirt, Jun pulls him close, putting his own gun against his jaw as Mingyu pins him against the wall. He wants to pull the trigger, but he knows what problems that could bring him. There was enough happening right now, but if he killed Park Bonhwa, his entire organization would come down on him and he wasn’t prepared for something like that.

“I will give you nothing! Do you fucking understand?!”

Reaching into the man’s pocket, Jun takes the baggie out of it, throwing it on the ground as he pushes Bonhwa into Mingyu’s chest, taking a step back from them both.

“Not my information and not my woman. Get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you again, if I see any of your men, it’s on sight. That’s your last fucking warning, Park.”

Laughing still as he’s dragged out of the building, Bonhwa grunts when Mingyu pushes him against the side of the Cadillac. Pulling the gun from his side, when two men step out to help their boss, the large man points the weapon at them and gestures with his head towards the bleeding man.

“He got his warning; now I’ll give you yours. Stay the fuck away from the bar and from Mr. Wen, his employees, and associates. If you get near Miss Y/L/N again, I’ll stick my gun up your ass.”

Narrowing his eyes at Mingyu, one of the men starts to take a step forward when the other shakes his head, pointing towards Bonhwa, who groans in pain, holding his side.

“Sounds like he’s got some broken ribs. Take your daddy home and patch him up.”

Inside Jun’s office, Jun hands a bottle of whiskey to Wonwoo as he takes a knee in front of him, pushing his head up to look at the damage. He had already thrown the gun he had taken from Bonhwa on his desk with the intention of letting Wonwoo keep it. Clearly, the man needed to learn how to take care of himself.

Taking a sip of the alcohol, Wonwoo hisses as Jun pushes on his brow. Jun could feel the bone shift under his thumb so he knew there was a problem.

“Probably a fracture. I’ll have Mingyu take you to my guy. He’ll get you patched up… I’ll uh… fuck— I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo winces as he tries to open his eyes, feeling already too swollen to open fully. It wasn’t the first time he had been hit, but it was the first time he had been hit by a gun. He knew the path he was taking was dangerous, but the money was worth it.

“I’ll live. Make today worth my fucking time.”

Nodding, Jun helps Wonwoo to his feet, leaning his head back, and gestures for Mingyu to come in and help him. He watches as Mingyu slides his arm under the lawyer's, helping him walk in a straight line out of the office. Running his hand through his hair, Jun glances back at the gun on his desk and sighs. He would get it to Wonwoo another time. Right now, Jun just wanted to get back to you.

The couple of hours that Jun had been gone had been full of tension for you and Minghao. Between the teasing on his part and the fact that you couldn’t seem to get your mind off the idea of the teasing becoming a reality, you were worse off than you had been before Jun left. So by the time he walked into the living room, you were on your knees on the couch, happy to see him, only for your smile to fade at the annoyed look on his face.

Shaking his head, Jun takes off his jacket and tosses it onto the table before falling back on the couch on the other side of you as Minghao’s eyes fall to the table. Minghao had kept what he knew about the meeting with Park Bonhwa a secret from you. He had done exactly what Jun had wanted and babysat you. He had kept you distracted so that you wouldn’t ask questions, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t know the meeting had gone sour.

Turning towards Jun, you look him over and finally lift his hand into yours, pushing your thumb over the bruising skin. Things hadn’t gone well; one glance back at Minghao and how he was avoiding your eyes told you that he already knew. Why was everyone keeping things from you?

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Jun offers you a half smile, turning his hand in yours to run his fingers along your wrist before he pulls you towards him so that your body rests against his. He didn’t want to talk about Park Bonhwa anymore. He didn’t want to talk about the bar or what had happened. He didn’t want to think at all. He just wanted to let go.

Leaning towards the table, Minghao picks up the baggie that had fallen out of Jun’s pocket, holding it in his palm, before glancing over at his best friend. He knew that Jun would sometimes test the product, sometimes just for recreational purposes, but he hadn’t expected him to bring it with him today. Things must have gone very badly.

Seeing Minghao move, you look back at him and then to his hand at the baggie with white powder. You had seen bags like that at the bar. In particular, you had seen them on the table of the men who had tried to hurt you, but you didn’t know they had come from the bar. You were starting to realize that maybe you were being naive. There was a lot of money that came into the bar and it had to come from somewhere.

“What’s that?” You try to think of different drug names, tilting your head as you reach for the baggie, only for Minghao to keep it from your reach. “Meth?”

Scoffing, Jun looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve offended him. Leaning forward, he puts out his hand for Minghao to put the baggie into his hand. Once he has it, he holds it between his fingers and lifts his brow, looking at it in the light.

“Meth is for poor people, darling. People who sell that are weak and desperate. This is cocaine, sophisticated and pure. I like pure things.”

Minghao knew that Jun wasn’t really upset with you. He knew that Jun was talking more about Park Bonhwa and his business. You had no way to know who sold what when you didn’t even know the real ins and outs of Jun’s business.

Furrowing your brows, you look at the baggie in Jun’s hand before sitting back and trying to understand what he was telling you. You had never done drugs in your life. You drank some, but even that was social. You were starting to understand what Jun had meant by this world breaking you. It was a lot darker than you realized, but you wanted to understand it. You wanted to understand Jun.

Looking over at Minghao, Jun purses his lips, seeing how close he was sitting to you. He hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten back. He hadn’t assessed the situation, but clearly something had happened while he was gone. Lifting his brow, Jun tilts his head, leaning back, to give you a good once over as he watches your ears practically smoke at how hard you were thinking.

“Baby, don’t worry so much. This isn’t part of your job. Your job is to look pretty and keep up with me. Keep me on schedule. You don’t need to understand what’s behind the curtain.” Smirking, Jun watches you pout as he lifts his hand to push his thumb against your chin. “What I wanna know is if you had a good time with Hao while I was out.”

Shrugging, you glance over to Minghao as he takes a deep breath and looks away. He had been so confident before Jun had gotten home. You were having fun with him. He was teasing you and you were flirting with him; now he was acting like a scared puppy.

“Kinda… I like spending time with Minghao, but you are both mean to me.”

Jun smirks at your words, a curious look on his face as Minghao looks up, suddenly shifting a bit nervously at what you might be telling Jun. Lifting his hand to stop Minghao before he starts, Jun runs the fingers of his other hand along your thigh as he nods for you to continue.

“Tell me what you mean. How are we both mean to you?”

Deciding to just bite the bullet, you sigh, feeling Minghao’s hand slide against your leg, trying to grab your wrist in an effort to ask for mercy. The look in Jun’s eye tells you that maybe he doesn’t need that mercy.

“Well, you left me wanting after I helped you. I think that was very mean.”

Jun grins, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he shrugs. Taking a breath, he drops his lip as he lets out the breath with a sigh.

“You need a punishment. You need to be reminded that if you have a smart mouth, you don’t get what you want, kitten. But tell me, how was Hao mean to you?”

Glancing over your shoulder at Minghao, Jun smirks at him as he gives him a pleading look, asking for forgiveness before you even speak. Jun wasn’t stupid; he could feel the tension in the room.

“He teased me. He knew I was suffering and that I’m needy but he just teased me the entire time that you were gone. Made me want to break rules and... you know.”

His brows lifting, Jun can’t help the amusement on his face. He wasn’t mad at Minghao for teasing you. He probably would have given him permission to do it if he had asked to, but what was most amusing was that you avoided saying what you wanted. Leaning towards you, Jun grabs your chin gently, brushing his thumb across your lips as Minghao swallows hard, watching carefully.

“I don’t know; tell me. What did he make you want? What rules did you want to break?”

You can feel yourself getting wet all over again. Your thighs push together as you whimper, leaning into Jun’s touch but also feeling the desire to reach back for Minghao, knowing he was so close.

“I—well. He made me want him. You said I belong to you, but I want him too. I wanted to sit on his cock while you were gone and stop feeling so empty since you didn’t give me anything. You were so mean.”

Running his thumb down your lip, Jun chuckles at your confession and how Minghao groans in frustration, afraid of how he will react. Glancing over your shoulder at the other man, Jun meets his eyes and lifts his brow in question, causing Minghao to open and close his mouth a few times before his shoulders sink in defeat.

“Fuck… Yeah, she’s not lying. I teased her. I knew what I was doin’. I’m sorry, alright? I can get the fuck out.”

Starting to stand up, Minghao furrows his brows when Jun leans over you to grab his wrist, pulling him back down.

“I didn’t tell you to fucking leave. Sit your ass down. My kitten wants your cock, Hao.” Smirking to himself, Jun glances at you to see your reaction before he looks back at Minghao. “I upset her. She said I was mean to her. We can’t have that. I need to make it up to her. So I think I should let her have what she wants, don’t you?”

Minghao lets out a breath, trying to wrap his head around what Jun had just said to him as he feels you settle back into the couch. Your cheeks were on fire. You hadn’t expected Jun to actually act on what you had said, and so quickly, but here you were sitting between the two of them.

Shaking his head, Jun watches you and Minghao, a laugh slipping from between his lips as he moves his hand from Minghao to your jaw, turning your face towards him.

“If this happens, there are rules. I don’t share easily. I think you both know that.”

Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, drawing Jun’s eyes down to your lips as he smirks. He could see Minghao shifting behind you. If the man didn’t want to participate, all he needed to do was get up and leave, but he had a feeling he would stay right where he was until he was told otherwise.

“Hao will wear a condom and he won’t cum in your mouth or on you. Don’t even ask for it. Understand?”

You whine out a small yes, and Jun coos at you, tightening his grip on your chin ever so slightly at how innocent you appear. He knew you weren’t innocent, but you were pure to him, and he planned on keeping you that way. Looking past you to Minghao, Jun lifts his brow, meeting the other man’s eyes before Minghao nods in understanding.

“Good, as long as we all understand who’s house this is and who Y/N belongs to, we can go play. I think it will be a fun night. I could use some fucking fun after today.”

Letting go of your face, Jun swipes the baggie from the couch and puts out his other hand for yours. Looking up at him, you look a little apprehensive until you meet Jun’s eyes and he nods. You knew you could trust him. It was a strange feeling. You didn’t even really understand why you trusted him. You didn’t understand why you wanted to or why you felt the way you did about him. All that mattered was that you did and that made it easy to take his hand and stand up.

Minghao closes his eyes for a moment, running his hand over his mouth, before watching you with Jun. He wanted this. He wanted it more than anything. He had wanted you since the day you had interviewed with Jun, but then he saw the look in Jun’s eyes and it was confirmed by Jun’s words. Then Minghao knew—or thought he knew—you were off limits. Now he was looking at your outstretched hand as you beckoned him to join you and Jun. It was too good to be true, but he wasn’t going to give up the chance, even if it was a one time thing.

Giving the guest room a quick appraising look, Jun drops your hand before sitting at the top of the bed. You stand at the door with Minghao, hand in hand, as the two of you watch him curiously as he opens the nightstand, taking out a strip of condoms and laying them on top of the nightstand next to the baggie.

Furrowing his brows, Jun scoffs at seeing you and Minghao standing like statues in the doorway. Rolling his eyes, he leans his neck from side to side with a groan as he gestures for you to come to him.

“You both act like you haven’t done this before. Come here, baby. You need to loosen up.”

Pouting, you kneel on the bed in front of Jun as he pouts at you, furrowing his brow and teasing you with faux concern at the tense look on your face. His fingers trail over your cheek down to your jaw before his fingers reach your throat, making you swallow hard. Leaning forward, Jun’s lips brush over yours, a smile pulling up at his lips when he hears how your breath hitches from just a simple kiss.

“Are you that touch starved? Did I rile you up that much before I left?”

Nodding to the words spoken on your lips, you whine Jun’s name, reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist, trying to pull him closer as you push your lips against his. Jun laughs on your lips before pulling back with a sigh, leaning to glance at Minghao in the doorway.

“And Hao didn’t touch you at all. What an asshole.”

Tsking at his best friend, Jun smirks, watching Minghao scoff and roll his eyes. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch you. He knew what Jun was doing, and now his cock was straining against his jeans at the sight of you on your knees on a bed. Lifting his hand, Minghao sighs, running his hand through his hair as Jun claims your lips once again before pulling back, causing you to whimper at the loss of his kiss.

“Minghao, come here and touch her. It’s what you both want. I’m giving you both a gift tonight. Don’t waste it or my time.”

Swallowing hard, Minghao nods, taking a few steps to kneel on the bed behind you as you glance back at him. Just the heat of your eyes on him has him cursing under his breath and his hands running along your sides, pushing your shirt up your back.

"I—fuck, you are so pretty, doll.”

Smiling at Minghao’s words, you lean back into his chest and his touch so you can feel his breath against your ear. Groaning, Minghao meets Jun’s eyes, getting a nod before he tilts his head and presses his lips to your neck right under your ear, earning himself a soft, happy moan from your lips.

This wasn’t the first time Jun had shared a girl with Minghao before, but this time was different. You were more important. You were different. Watching Minghao’s lips move over your skin sends Jun’s thoughts racing. Some were very good, and others were possessive and bordering on obsessive. Jun knew that if it were anyone else, he would have killed them for even wanting you, but it was Minghao so that made it something he could handle.

As Minghao slides his hands along your stomach, Jun makes a soft sound drawing Minghao’s attention to him. Leaning back, Minghao moves his hands, seeming to understand without words, exactly what Jun wants. You whine breathlessly, not wanting either of them to stop, until you feel both sets of hands undressing you. Both sets of hands are similar, yet you can tell that Minghao’s have more calluses as they scratch at your skin just a bit more roughly. Jun’s fingers are more familiar, but you can feel the possession behind the way he grips at your body, pulling you a bit closer to him as Minghao’s fingers undo your pants, his lips pressed against your bare back.

“My beautiful little kitten is getting spoiled tonight. You like having two men touch you, baby?”

You meet Jun’s eyes, nodding to watch him smirk at you. His thumbs and forefingers roll your nipples between them as Minghao lifts at your hips so he can tug your pants down your legs, a soft groan escaping his throat at the sight of your ass. Jun chuckles at both you and Minghao’s reactions, his eyes falling to his hands as he nods in appreciation of the view in front of him.

“Then you can listen closely tonight, can’t you? Be a good little slut for Daddy.”

Fingers slide around your hip, pulling you back against Minghao. You can’t help but let out a moan, your brows furrowing to the feeling of his bulge, still trapped behind his jeans pushed up against your ass. Jun lifts his brows as he waits for you to answer him. His fingers squeeze your nipples as your back arches against Minghao’s chest and you nod frantically, whining out “yes”.

“That’s all you had to say, Y/N.”

Minghao grins against the back of your neck, speaking between kisses. He was feeling more like himself and bolder with each passing minute. He could feel you wiggle your hips back against his cock and just knowing how badly you wanted him made his ego soar. He knew he could follow Jun’s rules, and he’d do what he had to do to get his cock inside of you.

Jun grins watching you with Minghao, the way your skin erupts with chill bumps at his words and how you nod again, agreeing with him. You were being a very good girl for them both. Sitting back, he lets Minghao get the rest of your clothes off until you are sitting bare in front of them, your cheeks warm as your eyes move from either man, both still fully clothed. Jun just chuckles under his breath as you start to cross your arms to gain some of your modesty back before he lifts his hand, pulling your arm down as he shakes his head.

“Why would you hide how fucking perfect you are?”

Whining, you look him over as if that should answer his question, but one look at his face tells you that he wants words.

“You and Minghao are still dressed. It’s not fair…”

Moving his hand to your chin, Jun leans to press his lips against yours softly, making you relax. He could feel you pouting against your lips, wanting to get your way. Using his free hand, Jun moves your hand to his shirt, the button resting over his chest, feeling you smile against his lips as he lets you undress him for the first time. The way your hands shake as you undo the buttons makes Jun chuckle against your lips until your head drops so you can see what you are doing. The eagerness is evident in the way your breath hitches and you move closer to him, tugging at his shirt to pull it open.

“Careful, kitten. Don’t scratch me.” You whine his name, trying to get Jun to stop teasing you as he smiles, running his fingers over your hair. “Do you want Hao to get undressed too?”

Nodding, you glance back to Minghao, who smiles at you, lifting his hand to run the back of his index finger over your cheek as your fingers rest on Jun’s pants.

“You are spoiled. I never thought I’d see Wen Junhui spoil a girl so rotten.”

His brows raised, Jun tilts his head at Minghao as you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. Tugging down his zipper, you lift your eyes to meet Jun’s eyes, finding him watching you carefully.

“Is that true? Do I spoil you?”

Jun lifts his hips, letting you help him pull his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers as he waits for you to answer him. Glancing back at Minghao, you start to chastise him for getting you in trouble with his words until you see him significantly less clothed than he was a few minutes earlier. Your eyes move over his toned torso and down to where his thumbs rest in the top of his boxers, a smirk on his face while he waits for you to answer Jun.

You stumble over your words, finding your mind going blank, only thoughts of Jun and Minghao filling it back up until Jun turns your face back towards him. You feel his fingers press against your jaw as he coos at you, finding the blank expression on your face cute and desperate.

“Answer me, darling.”

Shaking your head, you try to scoot closer to Jun, sliding over his thigh so that your wet folds meet his skin. Jun hisses into a groan at the feeling, his hands moving to your waist to hold you tight, not letting you get any relief.

“Maybe Hao is right.”

With a surprised breath, you find yourself on your back, your wrists pinned to the bed as Jun hovers over you, his knee pressed between your thighs. Arching your back, you rub your lips together as you shake your head, trying to argue. You want to prove that both of them are wrong, but as soon as you can’t feel Jun’s thigh close enough that you can rub yourself on his skin, you manage to do the opposite. A whimpered cry slips from your lips and Jun grins, his thumbs sliding along your wrists to keep you calm.

“My spoiled little princess is already crying before she’s had any cock.” Glancing over his shoulder towards Minghao, Jun lifts his brows and tilts his head towards the nightstand. “Just wait until you hear her while she’s stuffed full of one.”

Groaning under his breath, Minghao slides on the bed towards the nightstand to swipe the strip of condoms from it. Tearing one off, he tosses the rest to the side as his breath quickens at Jun’s words. He could hear your moaned sobs as Jun teased you, and the idea of hearing you be even louder as he fucked you was driving him crazy.

You close your hands into fists, trying to plead with Jun to touch you as you wait for Minghao to put on the condom. You knew Jun didn’t need or want one, so he could so easily slip out of his boxers and bury his cock into your aching pussy... But he only nods to your begging, feeling his cock twitching hard as he practices patience.

“Shh..shh… kitten. Are you that empty? Do you need it that badly?”

Fingers slide through your wet folds and a moan echoes off the walls at the same time as a groan is suppressed behind clenched teeth. Jun knew you’d be wet. He had felt you on his thigh, but feeling just how wet you were after all the teasing as he pushed two of his fingers into you—that was enough to make his cock leak in his boxers.

“Fuck… I don’t think I even need to stretch you. You are so damn wet. Are you that excited about having us both?”

Turning your head, you feel your check burn at Jun’s question, but slender fingers turn your face back towards him. Minghao lifts his brow and you hear Jun laugh as the other man’s thumb pulls at your bottom lip. Your eyes move from either man until you finally meet Jun’s eyes as tears run from the corners of your eyes. You clench around his fingers as he slides a third finger into you, his teeth catching his bottom lip and biting down lightly, waiting for you to answer him.

“Y–yeah. Ah! Jun… please? Please, please… Can I cum?” Licking your lips, you search Jun’s eyes for your answer, but when he doesn’t answer right away, you push him further. “Daddy… please?”

Minghao smirks when you call Jun Daddy. He listens to the way his breath changes, a groan bordering on a growl rising in his friend’s chest as Jun puts his thumb against your clit and his forehead against yours. You were good at getting what you wanted. Minghao wasn’t sure if you even meant it or if you were just using the name to get what you wanted, but either way, it was hot, and you were getting exactly what you were asking for.

With your mouth falling open and Minghao’s hand falling to your throat, you find it hard to make any sound when you cum. Nothing over a gasped breath of a moan makes it out of your lips as your cum seeps around Jun’s fingers. Closing your eyes and feeling your head spin almost as if you are going to pass out from the intensity of your orgasm, you scratch at Minghao’s arm, feeling his fingers lightly tighten around your throat. He wasn’t like Jun when it came to putting his hand on your throat. If it had been Jun’s hand there, you knew it would have felt like danger in the most sinfully erotic way; but Minghao’s hand felt like a necklace, keeping you grounded to the bed as you soared.

Jun groans, sliding his fingers from your tight walls, feeling your body start to relax under him. He knew you wanted more and that you needed more. Glancing over to Minghao, Jun smirks, seeing his friend’s lips parted as he takes in deep breaths, obviously trying to keep himself in check until he is told he could do more.

You lean your head back against the pillows, reaching out for Jun’s arm when you feel him sit up on the bed. Your eyes follow him when he lifts his hips to push his boxers down and he swipes the baggie from the nightstand.

“I’m feeling generous.” Jun’s eyes meet yours, his smirk pulling back up at his lips as you tilt your head, curious to hear his words. “I’m going to let Minghao fuck you first, baby. Let him see what he’s been missing out on.”

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, Minghao runs his fingers through his hair when you look over at him. You were stunning. He could see where the tears had run along your temples from where you had cried in pleasure from your first orgasm. He could feel his cock almost aching from how hard it was at the idea of being inside of you and being the reason you’d cry again.

“Does that make you happy, kitten?”

Jun watches you and Minghao carefully before turning his attention to the baggie in his hand. Opening it, he turns on the bed, running his fingers along your leg to pull your knee up so that your thigh is exposed and your legs are spread. Not only could he have his way with you in this position but he also knew that Minghao’s eyes were on your pussy now.

He could almost see the man’s mouth watering at the sight of your wet folds. You whine out his name before nodding, your fingers reaching for Jun’s wrist once again, only for him to shake his head and pull away so he can keep doing what he has his mind set on.

“Good girl. I like making you happy. I guess I do spoil you.” Meeting your eyes, Jun bites his bottom lip and lifts his brows as if to make sure you are paying attention to him before he continues. “Keep your leg just like this. Keep being my good girl.”

Running his fingers along your other thigh, Minghao furrows his brows, watching Jun. He had a good idea of what was going to happen, but knowing and seeing were another thing altogether. Taking a deep breath, Minghao shakes his head as Jun taps the baggie against your inner thigh, leaving a small, thin line of powder on your skin. While he didn’t partake in what he sold, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t appreciate the visual or the sentiment.

Your lips part in a small, surprised gasp when you feel Jun lean down to snort the line from your thigh. Without much thought, you run your fingers through his hair, your skin erupting with chill bumps as his nose brushes along your skin. With a small, satisfied groan, Jun hovers over your leg, taking a deep breath in from his nose and feeling his head start to rush. Smiling as the feeling of euphoria spreads over him, Jun presses his lips against your thigh before once again meeting your eyes.

“You are so fucking perfect... Mmm, you wanted to fuck Hao?” Nodding to Jun’s question, as he moves up your body, you smile as he lays over you, his lips hovering yours. “I’ll give you anything you want, princess.”

You could see how Jun’s eyes had dilated. You knew that there were limits to what he would give you on a normal basis, but you hadn’t been with him like this before. Right now, Jun was looking at you like you were his world. You could feel your heart beating hard in your chest as his hands ran along your sides and his lips gently pressed to yours between words.

“My pretty angel. I’m gonna watch you fall apart for him and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

Pulling back from you, Jun leaves you breathless from just his words before he gestures to Minghao and you barely have time to think. Hands slide along your hips as Minghao pulls you on the mattress towards him and kneels between your thighs. Leaning down over you, he smirks at your surprised expression, running his right hand between your breasts as he traces the trail of your tears with his left thumb.

“Is that what you’re going to do, doll? Fall apart for me.”

Nodding quickly, you listen to Minghao laugh almost darkly as his lips glide along your cheek before he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss doesn’t last for nearly as long as you want it to, his lips pulling away from yours, making you chase him for more. Running his fingers over your hair, Minghao smirks at how eager you are. Yes, he wanted you, but it was powerful to feel your body shiver under his every time he would pull away from you.

“Please, oh my god. I can’t take it.”

You finally close your eyes, tears on the rims of your eyes as you feel your walls clench around nothing. Minghao smiles, his finger tracing your hard nipple as you arch into his touch. He knew you weren’t his, but he could pretend, even if it was just for a short time. Jun cocks his head to the side, his eyes focused on Minghao’s hand as he presses his thumb against your nipple, pulling a moan from your mouth. He knew that Minghao wanted to tease you for longer, but his heart was racing, his hands tightening into fists at how thirsty he was already feeling for you. Impatience was starting to kick back in for him.

“If you don’t fuck her, Hao... I’ll show you how it’s done. Stop teasing— put your fucking cock—”

Meeting Jun’s eyes, Minghao is the one who gives the warning look this time. He knew Jun wasn’t in the same state of mind that he had been when the three of you had gotten into bed. Lifting his hand, Jun rubs his nose hard, leaning back with a groan of annoyance, pushing the same fingers through his hair. Minghao just shakes his head as you run your fingers up his arm out of some concern, a look of curiosity in your eyes.

“He’s fine. He’ll get all that energy out once I’m done. He said he was being generous, now he can wait and watch.”

Smirking at how your eyes widen. The confidence that he was displaying even in front of someone that you had seen reduced him to something resembling an obedient puppy. It had your pussy almost weeping for him.

“You can handle this, can’t you?” Tilting his head, Minghao’s smirk pulls into a full grin as his hand pushes your knee up towards your stomach. You feel the stretch in the back of one thigh as he repeats the process with the other leg and puts your hands on the back of your knees. “‘Course you can, doll. Stay still.”

You start to question him, but any question you have leaves your head along with any thoughts when Minghao lines his cock up with you and buries himself in you in one smooth motion. Closing your eyes, you dig your nails into the back of your legs as you let out a soft, crying moan.

The stretch isn’t so much that you are in pain. You can tell he isn’t as big as Jun, but that didn’t seem to matter that much because his cock was long and he knew what he was doing. With each deep, slow thrust, Minghao manages to let the tip of his cock push against your g-spot.

Finally, you take a deep breath and the tears he had hoped to see slip from your eyes start to stream along your temples once again. Minghao groans your name at the sight. He feels his stomach tighten, his pace picking up, and the sound of skin meeting skin loudly bouncing around the room.

Licking his lips Jun tries to swallow, but his mouth is so dry he can only groan, shifting on the bed, wanting to get closer to you. He wanted to be patient, but one more sobbing moan slipped between your pretty lips as he tugged on the bed so he could lean on his arm next to you. He was so thirsty, but looking at you, he knew that you’d somehow take care of it all.

Familiar fingers tighten around your jaw, turning your head to the left as you open your eyes. Meeting Jun’s intense gaze, you whimper his name as Minghao thrusts into the hardest that he had the entire night. Your orgasm rips through your body as Jun’s lips brush over your lips. He works his kisses towards your lips with a groan as Minghao’s fingers bruise your ass with how hard he holds you.

Leaning his head back, Minghao curses into a groan, feeling you clench around him. You were so tight, it was hard to move. Now he had to work that much harder to fuck you the way he wanted to; you were driving him to the point that he was going to follow you right over that edge.

Groaning your name, Minghao watches Jun lay back, a smirk on the man’s lips after the rough kiss. The moment your eyes meet his, Minghao loses any control he once had. His movement becomes messy, each thrust deep and hard as he cums hard, wishing the condom keeping him separated from you was gone.

Trying to catch his breath, Minghao moves your legs down and around his hips as he lays over you. You gasp, feeling his hips roll towards you so that his cock is as deep as he can possibly be before he comes to a stop. You smile against Minghao’s lips, your nails pressing into the back of his biceps when he nips at your lips before slowly pulling back from you.

The absence of Minghao sends a shiver through your body. Chill bumps spread along your skin and Jun smiles, running his fingers along your collarbone, marveling at the sight as Minghao moves off the bed. You were all his again. Jun was trying to give you a moment to come down from your orgasm, but the more his eyes moved over your body, the more he felt like he was going crazy.

Sliding over the bed, Jun smirks at hearing you sigh out his name. Leaning down, he presses his lips to your stomach, his hand pushing your hip back down as you try to arch off the bed towards him.

“You just got fucked and you are still acting like a bitch in heat.”

Your cheeks burn as Jun degrades you, his eyes meeting yours from between your legs. You can’t help the chill that runs through your body at how intense he looks, his eyes darker from how dilated his pupils are and how hungry he looks. Fingers scratch over your soft skin, as Jun sits back on his knees, his hands finally resting on your hips, his eyes still locked with yours.

"Kitten, you are always so fucking pretty. Have I told you that?”

Starting to look away, you hear Jun tsk in warning so you keep your eyes on him. The bed sinks beside you as Minghao lays back, resting on his elbow, watching intently. He knew Jun had been waiting for this moment and he would be lying to himself if he hadn’t been waiting for it a bit himself. He enjoyed watching.

“It’s true. I used to watch you all the time at the bar, but this... baby, you are the prettiest when you are on your back for me.”

Your lips part at Jun’s words and his confession. You hadn’t noticed him looking at you, but you had also kept your head down. You had tried for months to keep yourself off his shit list, when perhaps you should have been enjoying his eyes moving over your body.

Seeing the realization clicking in your eyes, Jun laughs and lifts his hand, rubbing at his nose as he shakes his head, feeling it spinning. He needed to do something with all of this pent up energy and you were right here, waiting to get fucked again. He had promised to fuck you hard, and he planned on keeping that promise.

Leaning over you, Jun slides your hands up the bed, grinning down at you as he lifts his brow at your reaction. You wanted to touch him and he knew it. You had been the same way in his office, but he wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. This was still his house and you were his to use as he saw fit.

“Hold her arms.”

You look up as Minghao’s hands take the place of Jun's, pinning your wrists to the bed. Giving a small test tug just to see if Minghao would let you go, you pout when he shakes his head at you, keeping a firm grip. Your attention is brought back to Jun when his hands pull your legs up so that your ass rests on his thighs, your knee almost at his hips.

Biting at his bottom lip, Jun moves his hand from your hip to his shaft, pushing himself down so that his tip rubs between your wet, swollen folds on the way to your waiting entrance. Warmth wraps around him as Jun rolls his hips to meet yours. At first he keeps his thrusts shallow and slow, but watching you arch off the bed, trying to roll your hips down to take more of him, does something to Jun. The corners of his lips pull up into a cocky smirk as he uses his hand still on your hip to pull you down over him like a toy.

The stretch of taking Jun reminds you just how much bigger he is than Minghao. Gasping through a moan, you try to scratch at Minghao’s hands as Jun continues to move you over his cock, harder and faster. You feel your brain start to go fuzzy, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let him use you and you just let go completely.

Whimpered groans slip between Jun’s lips as his jaw tightens almost to the point where it’s painful as he clenches his teeth, feeling his climax right on the edge of a cliff. It’s as if he is looking over at the rocks as waves crash over them, but your velvet walls are sucking him back in, keeping him warm, and pushing him to hold out longer.

“So fucking good. Baby, you’re perfect. Gonna cum for Daddy?”

Nodding, you tug at Minghao’s hands as your eyes move over Jun’s torso and his hands as they rest on your waist. You want nothing more than to grab at his skin and feel him under your fingertips but Minghao holds you tight. Sobbing into a moan, you arch your back off the bed and push down over Jun’s cock as you cum around him. Your mouth falls open and your body is completely pliable when your brain goes blank during your orgasm, just a toy for Jun to take his cum.

His eyes move over your body, your skin glistening with sweat as soft moans slip out of your mouth and into the air like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Jun shakes his head, feeling himself starting to lose momentum as he fills you with his cum. His hands start to shake against your hips with a few final hard thrusts that send you towards Minghao. Falling over your body, Jun whispers your name against your ear, a smile on his lips when he feels you nod, letting him know you are okay.

Letting go of your hands, Minghao watches you weakly move them to Jun. He furrows his brows, following your fingers through Jun’s hair and over his shoulders as you hold the man laying on top of you. You had been gentle with him after he had fucked you, but this was different. You were tender with Jun and he was the same with you. Suddenly, Minghao was feeling like he was intruding somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.

Swallowing hard, Jun groans, his head starting to ache as the high that he had been riding starts to crash. Rolling off of you, he sighs, lifting his hand to run it over his face as you watch him concerned. You turn on your side carefully observing him as he licks his lips and makes a face like he’s tasted something bad in the air, his eyes still closed.

“His mouth is probably dry as fuck.”

Furrowing your brows, you look up at Minghao as he leans back against the headboard. You didn’t know anything about what Jun had taken, but clearly he did. Sighing softly, Minghao slips off the bed and out of the room towards the kitchen. You turn your attention back to Jun, wondering if you need to get up and get him some water, when Minghao comes back into the room with a bottle of water, making your chest tighten. Clearly, he had done this before.

Sitting up, you reach out for the water, taking it from Minghao. Making an unsure sound, you look at Jun lying flat on the bed and Minghao chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“Let me move him into the bed and get his head on the pillows. He’s gonna pass out, but... he’s fine, alright?”

You weren’t so sure, but you just nodded, trying your best to help Minghao move the larger man up in the bed. You take charge of pulling the sheets from under him and placing them over his body as Minghao adjusts a pillow under his friend’s neck. Pouting to yourself, you open the bottle of water as you lean over Jun, putting the bottle to his lips and letting him take sips of the water. Your eyes meet Minghao’s a few times before you finally smile and let out a slow, long breath.

“Thanks. I guess I’m kinda useless when it comes to this.”

Shaking his head, Minghao moves to the dresser, taking out a pair of spare pajama pants and slipping them on as he glances back at you and Jun. He knew he could just leave, but he didn’t want to. You looked like a lost bird and Jun could be a bit unpredictable coming down. No, he’d stay, at least until he knew that you’d both be okay without him.

Sitting back on the side of the bed near you, Minghao leans down to pick up his cell phone that had fallen out of his jeans to read over a few missed texts as you fuss over Jun. At least nothing had burned down, metaphorically or physically, in the time he and Jun had been busy.

You look up at him curiously, hearing a sigh of relief before your eyes move to his phone, watching his thumbs move over it quickly. You knew there was more going on than Jun was willing to tell you, but Minghao was a bit more forthcoming. Of course, that had been before the apartment fiasco and getting his ass chewed out by Jun, but maybe if you approached it right...

“He’s been so stressed out. I guess this was good for him. Ya know, to just let go? Not worry about the bar, all the shit that’s going on there.”

Lifting his brows, Minghao scoffs, thinking your words were an understatement. Writing one more reply to Mingyu, he sighs and glances over to you as you put the lid back on the water, putting it on the nightstand, as Jun snores quietly beside the two of you.

“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t do shit like this often. He doesn’t go crazy with it either, but shit has been fucked up lately.”

Nodding, you run your fingers over Jun’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead, before sliding off the bed, feeling Minghao’s eyes following you. Gesturing towards the door, you smile and tilt your head to the side.

“I’m gonna get some clothes and something to eat. You wanna join me?”

Giving one last glance to Jun as he sleeps a bit restlessly, Minghao frowns before giving you a nod. He could hear his stomach growling and he could use some water himself after everything that had happened.

Slipping one of Jun’s shirts over your head, you feel the end of it rest just under where your shorts end. You stretch your arms as you move back into the kitchen to find Minghao sitting at the island, his head turned back towards the guest room where Jun was sleeping. From where he was sitting, with the door open, he could keep an eye on him. You feel your lips pull up into a smile before you force yourself to relax and clear your throat. You loved how close he and Jun clearly were. You had never noticed it before, but there was something about fucking them both that made it easier to see.

Looking over to you as you clear your throat, Minghao gives you a half smile, lifting a fresh bottle of water to his lips as his eyes move over you from head to toe. He knew you were wearing Jun’s clothes, but he didn’t hate it. You looked cute in them.

"So, what’s for dinner?”

Your lips pull back up in a smile as you turn towards the fridge, opening it up so you can lean against it looking at the choices. Taking out the milk, you show it to Minghao before reaching up for a box of cereal. You watch the man’s half smile turn into a full grin before he laughs and nods approvingly at your choice.

“Alright, chef.”

Cereal is in front of you and Minghao, and you join him in occasional glances towards the guest room. The restlessness that had been evident before seemed to have calmed as Jun lay on his back, one arm across his stomach, the other threatening to fall off the side of the bed. Minghao watches you for a moment, bringing his spoon to his lips to take a bite of his cereal as your brows furrow watching Jun.

“You’re whipped.”

Your cheeks burn hearing Minghao’s words, even muffled by food as he chews. Meeting his eyes, you scoff and shake your head, trying to play off how you feel, but even you know that you feel something for Jun. If you didn't, you wouldn’t let him keep you “safe” and in the dark.

“Whatever… He grew on me.”

Smirking, Minghao rests his spoon against his lips before sighing as you take a bite of your own cereal, eating it quietly. He starts to let his guard down before your next words cause him to take a deep breath and his eyes to fall back down to his bowl.

“Minghao? Tell me what’s going on. What happened today? Please?”

He knew he could tell you no. He knew he could tell you to ask Jun, but he also knew Jun wouldn’t tell you. He knew that Jun would tell you that it was safer not knowing, but Minghao was starting to wonder if that was true. You not knowing was going to make you complacent. Not knowing is what made you walk up to the idiots in the bar the way you did in the first place. Being in the dark about everything is what made you feel safe enough to walk to your car alone after saying what you did to them.

“Uh… he—fuck, Y/N. He’s gonna kick my ass, but listen, alright? I think you should know. It’s better to know what you are up against so you can avoid it.”

Your brows furrow as you lean towards Minghao, waiting for him to continue. You weren’t sure if you agreed with his logic any more than you agreed with Jun’s. They both wanted to treat you like some little lamb. Yes, you had been terrified after what had happened to you in the parking lot, but after what had happened to your apartment and what you were seeing happening to Jun, you were pissed. You needed to understand it before you could really see it. Your eyes couldn’t be closed anymore.

“I’ll deal with Jun. I do need to know. It involves me, but it’s also fucking everything up. I fucked it all up.”

Reaching out to take your wrist into his hand, Minghao is quick to shake his head. His eyes fall to where his thumb glides over your skin at your pulse point. He knew he shouldn’t be touching you while Jun was asleep, but after what had just happened in bed with you, he felt maybe he could get by with just a little.

“You didn’t, doll. It wasn’t your—shit… I won’t lie. You shouldn’t have gone up to those fuckers without knowing who and what they could do, but that doesn’t make this your fault.” Minghao sighs into his words as you turn your hand in his, letting him have better access to your skin. “Jun met with their boss today. That’s the man who wants your head on a stick. He blames you for three of his idiots not walking around today.”

You try to picture Jun meeting with someone who could be in charge of the men who had attacked you and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. Anyone who could be worse than those men... you didn’t want someone around Jun, you didn’t want him around Minghao, and you didn’t want him around the bar. The thought passes through your head, but then you remember that Jun is just as frightening.

"I—well, he’s not wrong, but why did Jun—”

“Fuck that, Y/N!” Looking over to where Jun turns in bed when he raises his voice, Minghao furrows his brows and lowers his voice before continuing. “No, they would have gotten into some shit and ended up the same way on their own with or without what happened that night. It was just a matter of time.”

Sighing, you just nod, closing your fingers around Minghao’s. You knew he was probably right, but it still didn’t change how you felt. It was getting easier for you to understand that people died around Jun and Minghao. You understood that they were probably going to die around you if you stayed in this world. You just needed to understand why. Tilting your head, you lift your other hand, gesturing for Minghao to continue getting a nod.

“Anyway, he met with him. His name is Park Bonhwa. Don’t look him up; don’t look for him. I’ll know if you do.”

As if reading your mind, the warning makes you sit up as Minghao’s eyes meet yours. You can only press your lips together as his eyes search yours, waiting for you to nod. Only when he is satisfied that you understand does he look back towards Jun and continue with his story.

“You know he took Wonwoo, the lawyer. I know Mingyu was there; that’s how I know most of this. I just know it went bad. Wonwoo got hurt, but he’s alright. He’s alive…”

Your hand tightens around Minghao’s and he sighs, knowing that piece of information would make you upset. You didn’t even know Wonwoo, but you were a caring person. That was why he wanted you to avoid all this, and that was why Jun shut your eyes.

“Jun beat the shit out of Bonhwa and Mingyu threw his ass out. They warned him to leave you alone and I think he got the message.”

Looking in the direction of Jun, you remember how red and swollen his knuckles were when he came home from the bar. You remember the dried blood and cracked skin and your stomach tightens. While you feel some fear for Jun, you also feel a sense of pride knowing that he was not only doing it for you but also defending Wonwoo.

“And Wonwoo? Is he okay?”

Smiling to one side, Minghao shakes his head when your first question isn’t about Park Bonhwa or about how they know he will stay away, but instead about your concern for Wonwoo’s health. Your kind heart shows through the tough exterior you were trying to build.

“He’s alright. Mingyu took him to Jun’s doctor. Got him patched up, and I’m pretty sure he’s on a retreat so he can heal.”

Lifting your brows, you try to imagine what Minghao means by his last words. You knew it had something to do with Jun and that the lawyer was probably somewhere very nice and being taken care of very well. The idea of that makes you feel much better about the situation.

“That’s good. I’m glad he’s being taken care of. I’d like to see him again once he’s feeling better.”

Sliding his fingers along your palm, Minghao chuckles under his breath as he leans back in the bar stool chair before nodding.

“I’m sure he’ll be around the bar in a couple months.”

Meeting his eyes, you smile, having had so many of your questions answered. You still feel a weight on your chest that Jun wasn’t the one to tell you, but the strength of knowing lets you breathe. Leaning forward, you feel Minghao freeze when your lips brush over his. At first, he doesn’t kiss you back until you meet his eyes at such a close distance and he knows you won’t take no for an answer.

Your lips press against Minghao’s and you take in a deep breath through your nose when his fingers slide back over your hand to wrap around your wrist. The kiss is tender; it takes your breath away, but it is brief. When Minghao pulls away, you almost pout, but upon meeting his eyes, you know that he feels the same way.

“Thank you for telling me everything, Minghao.”

Minghao takes a deep breath to calm his nerves as he nods. He didn’t regret telling you, but he was already mentally preparing himself for the lashing he was bound to receive the following day.

Jun’s head was busting, but turning to his side, he couldn’t help smiling. You were sleeping next to him. He was still in the guest room, and that meant you had chosen to sleep beside him. You could have gone to the bedroom the two of you had been sharing since he had brought you to his penthouse, but you had laid down beside him instead.

You were beautiful. He had told you that many times, but today more so. The light from the window on this side of the building was able to peek through the blinds and it was playing against your skin. Jun furrowed his brows, letting his eyes follow the rays of light as they danced where he wanted to run his fingers.

While he didn’t regret the night before, he knew that it would be hard to share you again. It would be a rare thing to let anyone else—Minghao included—be that close to you. Taking a deep breath, Jun scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to very carefully brush his index finger along your cheek. He smiles again, watching how your face scrunches up at the feeling. He wasn’t really trying to wake you up, but that desire to touch you was too much. He knew what he was feeling, but he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. He had never felt like this about anyone else before.

You whine in your sleep, feeling yourself starting to wake up as Jun’s fingers move over your hair. It was a nice way to wake up. He wasn’t rushing you. You were warm and you felt safe. Slowly, your eyes open, and you can’t help but smile when the first thing you see is Jun’s face so close to yours. It wasn’t a horrible way to start your day, and it was becoming something you looked forward to.

“Morning.”

Humming in response, Jun traces the shape of your ear as he swallows hard, feeling how dry his mouth was. He couldn’t stay with you much longer like this, no matter if he wanted to or not. He needed something to drink and his stomach was growling to the point that your eyes were glancing down at the bed. Watching your smile turn into a laugh at the sound, Jun shakes his head, leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead before sitting up with a groan. He was sore. His hands felt stiff. His knuckles almost needed to be forced to move as bruises had formed over the night.

Sitting up with Jun, you glance down at his hands before your pretty smile falls into a frown. Reaching for the hand closest to you, you take a breath, running your thumb over the cracked skin and hearing Jun wince. The adrenaline from the night before had made it easy for him to ignore the pain, but now it was evident—even if he wanted to pretend like he didn’t feel it.

“I don’t blame you for doing it, but you need to clean your hands better. I know he deserved to have his ass kicked.”

Jun’s brows furrow slowly as he lifts his head in confusion. Had he told you what happened while he was high? No, he hadn’t been that high. He would remember. Looking over at you, Jun pulls his hand from you, rubbing his knuckles hard as you sigh at him, unhappy that he is treating his hands with so little care.

“Who deserved it? I’m fine, Y/N. I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.”

Watching Jun slide out of bed, you furrow your brows knowing exactly what he was doing. He was trying to hide things from you again. You thought if you caught him off guard with what you knew he would just tell you, not needing to be prompted to do it, but instead he was just lying.

Following behind him, you cross your arms as Jun opens the fridge harder than necessary to take out a bottle of water. Tossing the lid on to the kitchen island, he meets your eyes as he quickly drains the bottle and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He could see you were upset with him, but he wasn’t pleased with you. He was trying to figure out how you could know anything, but the more he thought about it, only one person came to mind, Minghao.

“I’m not doing this.”

Shaking his head, Jun watches you scoff, your eyes rolling as he turns towards the bedroom. Your eyes move over his bare body, noticing scars that you had either ignored before or hadn’t taken the time to really look at. Now your eyes were open and you were seeing everything. He had been through a lot more than you could ever really understand, but you wanted to.

Jun tugs open his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants, not looking at you as you follow him into the room. He had a feeling you weren’t going to give up, but that still didn’t mean he was going to tell you anything. The only thing on Jun’s mind was how badly he wanted to kick Minghao’s ass.

Standing behind Jun, you watch him pull the pants up to his hips before you reach out to run your fingers over his hip, your index finger tracing a long scar. You find yourself wondering if the scar was from something as simple as an accident or if someone else had given it to him. The line was jagged and the more your imagination got away from you, you could almost picture it being made by a knife. A chill runs through your body, and your hand shakes as Jun’s hand rests over yours.

“I want you to tell me things, Jun. I need to know what’s going on. I still work at the bar. I can’t sit in this fucking penthouse for the rest of my life.”

Fingers tighten around yours as Jun scoffs. You were infuriating. Shaking his head, Jun turns to face you, dropping your hand as he walks towards you, watching you take a step back.

“And why the fuck not? Do you seriously still not get it? If you are so goddamn smart and you think you already know so much because your buddy Minghao has given you all the details—”

Jun stops for a moment when he sees your brows furrow, tears starting to coat your eyes. He knew he was upsetting you, but maybe that’s what it was going to take. Leaning down to take both your wrists to keep you in front of him, Jun meets your eyes.

“You don’t know shit. He barely knows what the fuck he’s talking about, Y/N. You are safe here! In these walls. I don’t want you at the bar!”

Tugging your arms in Jun’s grasp, you feel your anger rising. The tears that had started to collect in your eyes spill over onto your cheeks from frustration when he keeps a firm grip not letting you get your way.

“I–Jun! Let me go. What do you mean, you don’t want me there? I work there! You hired me to work there. I have to understand what—”

“Fine! You’re fired!”

You stop struggling and stand in front of Jun in shock when he cuts you off. You knew that he didn’t want to explain things to you and that he wanted to protect you but you never thought he would go as far as to fire you. You were good at your job. You loved working with the people at the bar. You weren’t close with your family so over time they had become like your family, and now Jun was keeping you from them.

Jun watches anger turn to pain on your face as your tears flow more freely down your face. His heart was aching, but he needed to make you understand his way. Yes, Park Bonhwa had hopefully gotten his message, but he also knew that every single one of his men had your face in their hands. It terrified him because he lov— no, he couldn’t even think about it.

“What did you just say to me?”

Swallowing hard, Jun loosens his grip on you, trying to get his own footing as you make him repeat himself. It was harder the second time.

“I–I said, you’re fired, Y/N.”

Jerking your arms from Jun’s grasp, you pull from him as he watches, running his fingers through his hair as you start to move through the bedroom, picking up bits and pieces of your clothing. His heart was pounding in his chest; this hadn’t been what he wanted. He didn’t want you at the bar, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want or need you here.

“Wait… baby. What—no. What are you doing?”

Jun’s hand pulls at your wrist as you push your things into the bag that Minghao had brought for you the first night you had been brought to the penthouse. Pulling away from him again, you hear Jun’s breath get caught in his throat—almost the sound of a choked sob—but you don’t look at him. You were too busy blinking away your own tears and making up your mind.

“I’m packing, Mr. Wen. What does it look like?”

Hearing you call him Mr. Wen cuts like a knife. Groaning under his breath, Jun shakes his head and reaches for your bag this time, only for you to meet his eyes and for that look to stop him in his tracks. You looked furious and hurt.

“If I’m no longer your employee, you have no fucking reason to make me stay. I can walk out the door. I don’t have any ties to you.”

That was worse than his name. You were twisting the knife. Jun wasn’t sure if you knew how he felt about you, but those words were breaking him. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you try to push past Jun, tears dripping from your cheeks as he pulls you back against his chest, wrapping his arm around your chest.

“You don’t have anywhere to go. Don’t do this, please? I—I’m sorry. I need…”

Jun’s voice trails off and you feel his fingers tremble against your shoulder. You knew you could probably pull his arm down and away from you, but leaning back against his chest, you could feel his body shake. You had never seen or heard Jun cry. There was no way he was crying over you.

“I can figure out somewhere to go.” Trying to look back at him, you see Jun close his eyes, turning his face away from you as if he’s hiding something. “What do you need? Finish the sentence.”

Groaning, Jun lets you go, feeling you turn your body towards him. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but his cheeks were wet. You can’t stop yourself from frowning, you have to fight yourself to keep your hands at your sides as the urge to wipe the tears from his cheeks becomes strong. You were shocked to see him crying; it was breaking your heart, but it wasn’t going to change your mind, not if Jun couldn’t finish what he had started to say.

“I–I need you. I need you to stay here.”

The first part of Jun’s explanation makes your head feel light, almost as if you are going to faint. You take a breath to steady yourself. You had never been needed by anyone, especially not by someone like Wen Junhui, but hearing him admit it made you feel weak in the knees. The second part made your brows furrow, that seemed like what he had been saying over and over again.

“I can’t just live inside this penthouse for the rest of my life and not be able to go—”

“No, no, I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Please, let me explain.”

Jun’s eyes open, and his hands move to cautiously hold your arms as if he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him. This time he doesn’t force you to stand in front of him, but he guides you to stay watching and nod so he can continue.

“I’m so fucking scared someone will hurt you and I won’t be there to stop it. I thought—I was hoping that by keeping you inside the house, you’d be safe and happy.”

Your head tilts, your eyes narrow, and Jun lets out a whining groan, knowing that he is wrong.

“I know; I see it now. You aren’t happy—not happy like I wanted. I just get so fucking obsessed with wanting to keep you safe because—well, because…”

Lifting your brow, you watch Jun struggle with his words. He had always been so well spoken at the bar, even when he was yelling at someone. You had never seen him so tongue tied and unable to get his words to connect from his brain to his mouth. Shifting in his hands, you lift your hand to finally wipe at one of his cheeks with your thumb, and Jun almost melts at your touch. Leaning into your hand, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft, content sound, happy to feel your hand on his skin. He knows what he wants to say and what he needs to say, but it’s terrifying.

“Just say it, Jun. This is what is driving me crazy. I can’t live my life around you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. I can’t read your mind. I can’t understand things if I’m not told.”

Nodding, Jun’s hand gently wraps around your wrist so he can turn your hand in his leaning to press his lips to the heel of your hand. This was going to change everything. You were changing everything. Jun’s entire worldview was on its head because of some innocent girl that he thought was cute and he decided to hire her. He just had to go and fall in love with you.

“I’ll do better. I promise. Give me a chance. Don’t leave me. You can come back to the bar. I need you.”

There was still so much left unsaid, but you were getting the feeling that they were words that he needed time to process and to say. The words that he was able to say were enough to make your shoulders relax and for you to nod. You just wanted to compromise with him. You weren’t trying to rebuild his entire world; you were just trying to be part of it.

Moving his hands to either side of your face, Jun furrows his brows, watching your expression. Your eyes stay locked on his and Jun finally lets out a breath, not seeing any sign that you were going to pull away from him again. Leaning forward, he pushes his lips against yours, gently letting the kiss hopefully say everything he can’t seem to get out.

The kiss is different. Jun doesn’t rush. Instead, his thumbs brush against your cheeks as his tongue glides along yours slowly. You find yourself having to wrap your fingers around his wrists to keep yourself steady as your head once again feels woozy. When you sway in his arms, Jun furrows his brows, only then pulling back to look at you to see your eyes still closed and your lips barely parted, waiting for another kiss. Smiling, he brushes his lips back against yours before pulling your bag from your shoulder and letting it fall to the floor as he walks you backward towards the bed.

The back of your legs hit the bed before you feel Jun lay you back on the bed. His hand behind your head doesn’t let you fall; he rests one knee against the mattress as he lowers you down, making sure you never slip from his hold. Whispering his name, you start to slide your hands along Jun’s chest as he hovers above you, but remembering how every time you had been with him, he hadn’t let you touch him, you pause.

Jun furrows his brows, seeing the uncertainty in your eyes and the way your voice wavers. There was something intimate about having someone touch you. That had been why he hadn’t wanted your hands on him often. He liked you too much. He had been falling in love with you too quickly and it scared the shit out of him. If he kept your hands off his skin as much as possible as he fucked you into a mattress or on top of his desk, then he couldn’t feel as connected to you.

Looking at you now, as you lay under him, your lips parted as you took deep breaths. All Jun wants is your hands on him. Reaching for your hand, Jun lifts it and puts your palm against his chest, near his heart. You feel it beating hard and fast in his chest, almost faster than yours. Your eyes fall to where your fingers rest over Jun’s skin as you carefully move your hand before bringing your other hand up to run it along his side. You could really see each scar now; you could trace them with your fingers, but you could also count each mole and freckle. You were able to appreciate how beautiful Jun was without being told not to touch him or being rushed to do something else.

Licking his lips, Jun feels chill bumps spread along his skin under your touch. You were being gentle, almost as if you were afraid he was going to make you stop. That wouldn’t happen again. He was yours just as much as he claims you as his own now. He should tell you that, Jun thinks to himself as his thumb glides under the borrowed shirt that had ridden up on your torso. Shaking his head to himself, he just smiles instead and meets your eyes before pressing his lips to yours once again, his hips rutting against yours, begging for relief.

You had fallen for this man. You were breathless from his kiss and the way his mouth felt on your skin. You hadn’t let yourself admit it, not even when Minghao teased you, but as Jun’s kisses trailed along your jaw to your neck, you knew it was true. You couldn’t see yourself anywhere else but with him now.

“Wanna do this forever.”

Jun’s words make you clench around nothing; your thighs tighten around his hips. Groaning next to your ear at your reaction, Jun scratches his fingers up under your shirt, pushing it up your chest. If this were any other day, he would have already had you naked and split you open with his cock, but not this time. Jun didn’t make love, but he did this time. He would make love to you.

“Sound so pretty. Sound like an angel, kitten.”

Whimpering as Jun speaks, you lean your head back, scratching your nails lightly over his shoulders and feeling his fingers massage at your breasts. This was better than any other time that he had fucked you. Yes, all the other times had felt great, but you were already so wet that you were uncomfortable and Jun had barely touched you.

“Don’t tease. Please, not today, Junnie.”

The name slips out of your mouth before you even think about it. Pressing your lips together, you wait for Jun to get upset or have at least a negative reaction, but instead he leans back to look down at you, a smile on his lips. Leaning down, Jun pecks at your lips as his brows furrow curiously.

“Call me that again.”

Licking your lips, you watch Jun lean back, his hands pulling the shirt up and over your head so he can toss it behind him.

“Junnie…”

Chuckling under his breath, Jun shakes his head at how much he enjoys the sweet name on your lips. He hated nicknames and most pet names. They were degrading to someone of his standing, but this one coming out of your mouth made his chest feel light.

You sigh happily when Jun’s lips brush over the top of your breast, his kisses moving slowly over your skin until he reaches your nipple. Lacing your fingers through his hair, your grip gets tighter when Jun’s tongue laps at your nipple, causing it to harden. So much of your time with Jun has been centered on him. Anything he had done at the end of the day had been to prepare you to take him, but now he was taking his time, almost worshiping you as he worked his way from one breast to the other.

“Ah… feels good.”

Grazing his teeth over your pebbled nipple, Jun smiles when you arch your chest towards his mouth. He hadn’t been lying when he said you sounded like an angel. Every moan and whimper out of your mouth was driving him crazy. He could feel himself leaking against the front of his sweatpants as he worked his kisses lower, over your stomach, and down to where your panties sat low on your hips.

Glancing up at you, Jun watches you lift your hand to brush your fingers at your lips, trying to be quieter, only to fail to feel his warm breath fan across your panties. He didn’t want you to be quiet and he had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to once he got started.

Using his index finger, Jun tugs your panties to the side, marveling at how wet your folds are. Carefully, he separates your lips using his thumb, letting out a soft groan as his eyes move from your clit down to your clenching hole. He knew how good it felt to be inside of you, and he wanted that more than anything, but he could be patient. Today, for you, he could do just about anything.

When Jun’s tongue glides between your folds, you almost start to cry. Tears of pleasure sit on the rims of your eyes as you scratch the bedding under your hands. The warmth of his mouth, mixed with the fact that he clearly knows what he is doing, is enough to make you see stars.

Stiffening his tongue, Jun wraps one arm under your leg, pulling you closer to his mouth as he furrows his brows to your taste. Pushing his tongue into you, he can’t help the deep groan that escapes his mouth and causes his mouth to almost vibrate against your pussy. Muttering fuck, against your folds, Jun shakes his head as he leans back to spit on your already soaking folds. Watching his spit drip down your skin, he smirks and is right back to what he was doing, his lips and tongue moving over your clit, making your thighs shake.

When you cum, you don’t have time to warn Jun. You only have enough time to push your fingers into his hair and hold him tighter between your legs as you cry out in pleasure. Letting go of his head, you start to apologize when you feel Jun laugh, his lips pressing against your thigh. Shaking his head, he groans and turns his attention back to your pussy. Jun can feel your thighs shaking around his head as he laps at the cum dripping from you but he only stops when you whine and tell him it’s too much.

"Sorry, baby, you taste so good. I should have done that earlier.”

Covering your face, you feel your cheeks burning under his attention. Fingers work your soaked panties down your legs before Jun kicks his sweatpants off and to the side. Gently, he moves your hand from your face as he settles back between your legs, resting on top of you. He knew that you were shy, but, in his opinion, you had nothing to be shy about.

Taking your hand in his, Jun presses his lips to the tips of your fingers before leaning to capture your lips with his own. You sigh into the kiss, only for the sigh to turn into a moan when you feel Jun push the head of his cock against your pussy. You are so wet that he slips in with much more ease than any time before, but the stretch still makes you tense up at first.

Resting his forehead against yours, Jun groans your name quietly as he thrusts into you with slow and steady movements. You had gotten used to him being rough and quick, but now you were feeling every inch of him as he pressed his hips flush with yours with every thrust. Mouth falling open with a breathless moan, you close your eyes tightly, and Jun can only nod in agreement as you clench around him tightly.

“Fuck, so perfect. Want you to be mine, kitten. I just—” Groaning, Jun buries his head against your neck, kissing up to your ear before he finally speaks again and says what he had been so afraid to say. “I just love you so fucking much.”

The words both shock you and send you over the edge. Clinging to Jun, you gasp his name in a loud moan as he kisses your neck, letting you roll your hips over him to ride out your orgasm. Throwing your head back, your brows furrowed tightly, you watch as Jun follows your same patch a few moments later. Pushing back on his hand so that he isn’t laying on top of you, Jun holds your hip tightly with his free hand as he thrusts into you once more hard, filling you full of his cum.

Moments pass silently, just quickened breath as you and Jun come down from your climax. You brush your fingers over his forehead, pushing his hair back from where it sticks to his damp skin as he licks his lips. Finally meeting your eyes, Jun almost looks shy, knowing you heard what he said. It wasn’t as if he had said it quietly and been in your ear. Seeming to know what the look is for, you smile and trail your fingers along the side of his face, stopping to brush your thumb over his lips, feeling him kiss the pad of your finger.

“It scares me, but I love you too.”

Jun furrows his brows at your wording. He could understand it. His world was a lot. You had already been hurt and seen or heard about others being hurt. It wouldn’t surprise him if you told him you never wanted to see him again after he kept you locked in his penthouse like some princess he wanted to keep away from the world. Instead, you were saying it back to him and his heart was racing so hard that he was afraid it might explode.

“I—yeah? I mean, I’m scared shitless. So fucking scared. I’ve never said that to anyone before. I don’t wanna fuc—”

Sensing Jun was rambling, you laugh and lean up on your elbows a few inches to press your lips to his to stop him before he really gets started. Jun’s lips pull up at the sides in a smile before he really lets himself give into the kiss. Turning on to the side, Jun pulls you with him, feeling his softening cock slip from you, knowing it would cause a mess, but he couldn’t find a reason to care as long as you were in his arms and his lips were on yours.

After a few moments, you are the first to wrinkle your nose, and the sticky feeling becomes unbearable. Pulling back from the kiss, you watch Jun pout and lean his head to the side like a puppy being disciplined. Shaking your head, you smile, and your cheeks once again heat up at how sweet he was acting around you after all of the tough guy acts you had seen over the months of knowing him.

“Um, we—well I need a shower.”

Gesturing down at your body, Jun follows your fingers with his eyes before pursing his lips. He knew you were right, but that didn’t make it any less bothersome. If you needed a shower, he was coming with you. When you gasp next to his ear, feeling Jun’s hands lifting you from the bed to carry you towards the bathroom, he just grins and meets your eyes.

“What? I thought you needed a shower. I need one too.”

Sighing, you kick your legs a bit as if that should answer your question, but Jun leans to nip at your jaw before sitting you on the counter. Looking around the bathroom as Jun turns on the shower, you find yourself remembering the first night you had been in the penthouse and how this was mildly similar to it. You felt much better, but Jun was still taking care of you. He was starting your shower and keeping a watchful eye on you.

“Thank you, Jun.”

Humming out a confused sound, Jun looks at you as he turns back from the shower, testing the water on his fingers. The look on your face makes his smile drop a bit before he moves back towards you, stepping between your thighs. He could see there was something on your mind.

“For what? What’s wrong?”

Looking around, you shake your head and enjoy the feeling of his hands running along your arms.

“For protecting me, bringing me here, and now for trusting me that I can handle it.”

Jun sighs and leans his head towards you so his forehead can rest against yours. It was a terrifying thought, letting you into his world completely, but he knew you weren’t going to give up. He would just keep you safer by his side. Teach you how to protect yourself until he was sure you could do it.

“Mm, thank you for staying.”

READ THE BONUS SECTION ON PATREON

#jun smut #seventeen smut #svthub #junhui smut #minghao smut #svt smut #jun angst #junhui angst #seventeen angst #minghao angst #svt angst #jun x reader #junhui x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #minghao x reader #the8 smut #the8 angst

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piichuu · 2 months

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♡ SAY IT BACK - WIND BREAKER

WHEN YOU DON’T SAY “I LOVE YOU” BACK

FEATURING: umemiya hajime, suo hayato, togame jo

WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader

UMEMIYA HAJIME

“bye baby, i love you!” he yells all the way from the hallway as he opens the door to leave, giving you the best opportunity to joke around with him. “bye!” you yell back, aware of those three words that you skipped, knowing it will most likely cause him to stay home for a few more minutes, just to hear them.

it’s difficult to hold back laughter when he walks into the living room with furrowed eyebrows and a pout on his lips. he drops his bag onto the wooden floor and sits down beside you on the couch. “you forgot to say something,” he mutters, staring straight into your eyes. but you only shrug your shoulders. “what? i said everything i want to say.”

he sighs and cups your cheeks, never ending the staring contest between you two. “say it back, say that you love me or i won’t be able to function for the rest of the day. i will literally die if you don’t say it,” umemiya doesn’t hold back and this causes the giggles you’ve been holding in to fill the room before you put your hands over his and smile softly. “i’m sorry, i love you so so so much ume, and i hope you have the best day at work.”

hearing this immediately causes a large smile to spread over the majority of his face. he peppers a few kisses onto your lips before jumping off the couch and grabbing his bag as he is now almost late for work. “i love you most, baby!”

SUO HAYATO

“you should sleep now, we have to wake up early if we want to go on that trip tomorrow,” suo mumbles while brushing his fingers through your hair. your leg is resting over his hip while the hand of his that isn’t working on your hair, lies perfectly around your waist to keep you even closer. “but i want to talk to you more,” you mutter with your face pressed against his chest.

he chuckles lightly and hums. “we can talk all day tomorrow, but i don’t want you to be sleep deprived, so at least try to sleep,” you sigh but eventually nod your head, closing your eyes in the process. “goodnight darling, i love you,” he says while placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“goodnight,” his eyes grow wider for each second that passes and he doesn’t hear those three lovely words leave your mouth. the two of you are used to exchanging those words right before sleep, but what is suddenly so different today? “are you mad at me?” suo asks, growing slightly worried that he might have said the wrong thing earlier.

you open your eyes at that and look at him, not being able to keep the prank going when he seems so worried that he might have done something. “i love you,” he smiles when finally hearing it and pulls you impossibly closer. “good…”

TOGAME JO

“what’s wrong?” he asks when you stay quiet after hearing him say “i love you.” it’s not uncommon for him to say it every once in a while, but your heart certainly beats a few miles an hour when he says it to you while holding you close in the kitchen where the two of you have been busy cooking dinner for the past half an hour.

“hm? nothings wrong, jo,” you smile softly while leaning your cheek against his chest. but he doesn’t let you get away that easy as he continues pressing. “then why aren’t you saying it back, hm? are you trying to leave me hanging?” you giggle at that, hearing how almost desperate he is to hear you say it back.

“i love you, jo,” you finally say it and he visibly breathes out a sigh of relief, almost as if he was worried about the fact that he didn’t get to hear those words immediately. but he quickly recovers and ends up doing the finishing touches to the food before ruffling your hair. “you’re a piece of shit sometimes, i hope you know that,” jo says. “you love me though.” “yes i do.”

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bradshawsbaby · 7 months

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Like Peas in a Pod

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?

Word Count: 5.7k

Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!

Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.

If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.

“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”

“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.

“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”

“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.

“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.

Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.

“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”

As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.

Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.

“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.

The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”

“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.

“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.

“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”

You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.

The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.

Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.

Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.

At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.

Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.

And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?

You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.

They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.

You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.

The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.

You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.

“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”

“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”

“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.

Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.

“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”

The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.

As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.

At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.

You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.

“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.

“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.

“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.

The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.

The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.

“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.

“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”

Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.

“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.

“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”

“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.

“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.

“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.

Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.

“Which one do you think is the cutest?”

“Do you see one you like?”

“Claim one now before we get over there!”

Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.

“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”

“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.

“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.

“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.

Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.

“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”

Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.

Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”

Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.

“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.

Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.

“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.

“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.

“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.

“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.

“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”

“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”

“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”

“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.

“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.

You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.

Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.

Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.

What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.

It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.

Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.

Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.

Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.

“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.

You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.

He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”

He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.

He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”

Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?

“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.

He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.

“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.

“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.

Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.

“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.

In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.

“I like it,” you told him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.

The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.

“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”

You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”

“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”

“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.

You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.

As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”

“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.

Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”

“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.

“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.

“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.

“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.

“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.

“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.

“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.

“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.

“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.

“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.

You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Why were you going to leave?”

You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”

Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”

You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.

“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.

Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.

“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”

“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.

“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.

“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”

He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”

“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”

He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.

The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.

It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.

The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.

“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”

“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.

“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.

“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.

“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.

“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.

“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.

“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.

“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”

Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”

“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.

Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.

“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.

“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.

“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.

“Hey, wait a second—”

“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.

Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.

“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.

“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”

Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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temiizpalace · 2 months

Text

☆┊I SWEAR I ONLY FELL FOR YOU ON ACCIDENT..

SUMMARY: he never meant to develop feelings for you, and seven are these overwhelming feelings doing things to him.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: cursing, CRINGE, spoilers for book 3!!!

ROMANTIC, PINING

NOTES: (kind of) based off this song + flustering boys who pretend to not be flustered ever + lyrics in fic not in order

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“one time you crossed my mind and i promised id be careful”

he would have never expect his feelings to be like this after your first encounter.

the hostility he held towards you, he should’ve warded you away. yet you kept coming back. talking to him all buddy buddy.. it was admirable from the eyes of others. if he would’ve known better he would think you saw him as a large house cat (you do). well guess what, he ain’t.

at the start, he thought of you as nothing but a huge nuisance and thorn in his side in this already bothersome school. but after seeing your courageous news during azul’s overblot, he’s got a newfound respect for ya.

everything was fine from then. you’d bother him occasionally, and he’d allow you to bask in his presence. what? did you expect something else? well you’re wrong. but these moments have kickstarted some brand new fantasies for our beloved prince to indulge in.

it started off normally, he’s napping peacefully as you read a book next to him, giving him an occasional glance or two before focusing on the piece of literature in your hands. as we know, dreams can range in a wide variety of things. some can be absolutely blissful, some are really random, and others are just straight up nightmares!!

now, leona had no idea where to classify this one.

he walks into his room after finishing some duties concerning the kingdoms wellbeing.. being king is no easy task. “back already? that was quick.” your voice rang in his ears as he tossed the choking royal garbs to the side, making way to curl up in your lap. “can’t stand these people..” he murmured into your stomach, making you smile. you play with his hair, making an occasional braid or two before pausing. “hmph, why’d ya stop?” you lift his chin, looking him in the eyes. “i’m helping you de-stress.” suddenly, he feels pulled closer to your face, your lips barely ghosting each other til finally—

leona sits up quickly in a sweat, startling you as he emerged from the ground. what the fuuuucckkkk was that????? “ah, leona? are you okay?” you ask, concerned as to how quick he was to wake up. usually it’d take 10 minutes to get him out of a daze! “fine.” he grunts, getting up and walking towards the mirror hall.

“uhh, where ya going?” no response. he seemed grumpy, but you had no idea why. did you do something? nahhh, probably just typical leona. ..right?

you’ve noticed he’s been avoiding you a lot more lately. he will not respond when you say hi to him in the halls, will just up and leave if you see him in the botanical gardens, and will walk in the opposite direction of you just so you don’t have to cross paths.

now you’re concerned. was he mad at you? to put it simply, yes and no. yes because why are you occurring in his dreams???? are you crazy???? smh. get out. he’s the one dreaming but ok

yet no because, he’s no fool. he knows when he’s in love and unfortunately for him, this is love. you don’t understand how much he’s tossing and turning in his room because literally every gap in his head is filled up with thoughts of you, how much this aggravates him because he can’t get adequate amounts of sleep anymore. your fault!!!

he wanted to avoid you like the plague for at least a month to let these feelings wash over, but to no avail. someone just kill him and bury the body he’s hopeless. he cannot wait to be found six feet underground because feeling like this for a magicless human was the last thing he wanted.

that’s it, he’s never gonna tell ya. ever. just him and his thoughts. yep. mhm. yeah.. you’d look really nice in formal attire—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

he wants to scream but the best he can do is make a cringing face. how the hell do you make him so sappy??? this love stuff stinks… how could you do this to him?

🐬┊JADE LEECH

“one spark, you jump my heart and i feel it beating faster. yeah, it’s too late, im not ashamed.”

ah, love. something jade believed he’d never experience.

from the moment his eyes met yours, he’s always felt a twisting feeling in his chest. how peculiar.. to be fair, from afar you were quite bland to him. just another pawn and source of intel.

but then word began to get out you stopped two overblots, catching his interest. really? a magicless human? now he’s just dying to meet you.. and thank the seven he did. you had him the moment you spoke, your voice causing his heartbeat to speed up rapidly.

after azul’s overblot, though? jade is nothing but head over heels for you. without shame. he’s practically glued to your side, walking you to and from classes almost every day without fail, somehow always being your waiter whenever you ate at the mostro lounge, always having a hand on your back or shoulder.. huh.

it’s clear to anyone with half a brain that the leech twin definitely saw you more than merchandise, making them even more afraid to speak with you! whenever you were jade was like 2 feet behind.

only recently have you started to notice this. so, you’ll do what any normal person would do. ask him about it!

“hey, jade.” the eel-mer looks at you, an eyebrow raised with a polite smile. “is something the matter, prefect?” he asks, his demeanor the same as ever. “just wondering, but why’re you always around me? im not annoyed or anything! just.. just curious.” you stated quite bluntly, catching the boy off guard.

you could’ve sworn you saw him freeze with eyes wide, but the ability he has to rebuild his facade was impeccable. he pretends to think about it holding his chin before chuckling. “i suppose.. i just enjoy your company.” he smiles as you suddenly feel like an arrow was shot riiigghhttt through your heart.

“haha, really?” you laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your face flush to your cheeks as he stared you down with glee. before jade was able to respond, he was cut off by the sudden sincerity in your voice. “i enjoy your company too, jade.” you smile back at him, a sudden awkward silence falling before you.

“a-anyway, this is my class! gotta go! bye!” running inside the classroom, you try to hide the very obvious warmth in your face with your hands. THAT WAS SO CRINGE. IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED. AAAGAGAGBABABAHAHAHAHAHA

this moment is going to haunt you for the rest of your life, you just know it. while you were dealing with the repercussions of the exchange, jade was in absolute heaven right now. his heartbeat was at an all time high, feeling nothing but sheer joy. falling for you was never his intention, but thank the seven he did.

the day passes by swiftly, nothing too out of the ordinary. as jade walks back to his dorm room, he flops onto his mattress face first into the pillows. an annoyed floyd looks at him with a disgusted expression, wishing this didn’t happen almost every day.

“yer so sappy, yknow that jade?” he grumbles, tossing a pillow at him with force. jade didnt care. it was worth it. all of it was worth it. falling in love with you was the best accident he’s ever made.

🐍┊JAMIL VIPER

“i’ll never see it coming but i know we’ll crash, cause when we’re with each other, yeah, we move too fast.”

kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill hi

those were the thoughts racing through jamil’s mind as you somehow convinced him to ride the magic carpet with you. what was he thinking??? he knows something is going to go terribly wrong whenever he’s with you.

not because of you (he hopes), but because of him! he’s a man who’s very meticulous about his work, making sure it’s done to absolute perfection. now, add you into the mix. it throws him horribly off.

when jamil first met you, he didn’t think much of it. you were a magicless human from another world. impressive that may be, that’s all you are. no major threat to kalim, so he’ll leave you be. then came the overblots.. you seemed more valuable than he originally thought.

then came his overblot. in all honesty, he hated you after that. or he thought he did. he always felt this burning sensation in his chest and this inexplainable image of you in his head nagging at him at any free chance he got! then came the scenarios.. domestic moments like brushing his hair, waking up next to each other, cooking meals for each other..

then he realized he fell into the deep end and fell in love with you. shit.

you treated him with such kindness! how didn’t he fall in love with you?? everything’s making his head hurt. the world must be upside down.

hearing kalim sing constant praise was nothing out of the ordinary, something he’s already grown used to and learned to despise. you on the other hand, your compliments send him to different universes. he swear fireworks get lit whenever you open your mouth and just explode all around him.

jamil’s behavior around you was a fairly noticeable difference to those close with him. he stuttered over his words, was a bit more expressive, and had a specific tone in his voice that seemed to be reserved for you. however, the most notable difference that almost anyone can see was the fact that THE jamil viper made a lot more accidents.

he seemed to embarrass himself every time he’s with you, but thank god you just shrug it off like nothing. screwing up was not something jamil EVER did before.. why must you ruin him like this? and these moments seem to just speed by, making it all seem like one huge fever dream that he just happens to remember. he hates it!

now, back to the present moment. he watches you sit onto the magic carpet, feeling the cold breeze in your hair due to the fact scarabia is much chillier during the night. he stares at you from the balcony, seeing as you turned back to smile at him. “you coming” you ask, watching him hesitate. “m-maybe i shouldn’t.. i must tend to kalim and—“

“do you trust me?” you ask, holding your hand out to him. he looks at you, taken aback by your sudden question. “what?” “do you trust me?” you repeat, a stern tone in your voice as you looked down at him with a certain gleam in your eyes that he just cannot resist. “..yes?”

jamil grabs your hand, pulling himself onto the carpet. the warmth from his palms spread throughout your entire body, suddenly regulating the your internal temperature. as you both kneeled on the carpet, your eyes met, staring into each other intensely. his hand subconsciously squeezes yours, holding to them for dear life, not wanting to let go.

while this was insanely romantic to you both, from outside perspective, it just looks like this 🧍‍♂️🧍

“ah, jamil, you’re squeezing my hand.” you laugh nervously, watching as the heat rises to his cheeks. “s-sorry. now then, shall we?” he clears his throat, sitting down properly before looking at you with a small smile. you can’t help but reciprocate, flashing him a grin before taking his hand again. “of course.”

before the carpet can take off into the clouds, cheering can be heard from inside scarabia halls.

it seemed kalim had a little.. arrangement for the both of you. jamil pulls his hood over his face in embarrassment as the carpet flies towards the glittering sky of stars, something both you and jamil can enjoy together.

A/N: jamil bias is EVIDENT (I kinda sorta didn’t go with the song that much and got carried away oopsies)

date published: 7/28/24

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arkive78 · 2 months

Text

One Piece Fic Recs that occupy my mind nonstop

After really getting into One Piece this past spring, I've been reading as much as tumblr and AO3 have offered me in terms of One Piece content. It's been hard to keep track of everything that I have read, however, certain stories/headcanons/posts linger in my mind and I thought I'd share them with you!

Minors DNI with fics marked as NSFW and for anyone, be sure to read the content warnings the authors have mentioned!

Hope y'all enjoy!

Killer

Childhood Crush by @analogwriting

does involve violent themes, please be sure to read content warnings for each chapter

Will You Let Me? by @fanaticsnail

NSFW, Pollen AU

Dreaming of You by @fanaticsnail

this also includes Heat and Kid

NSFW

The Break (Kid x reader x Killer) by @standfucker

Gore, graphic description of injury/pain/first aid, hurt/comfort, confessions, highly oblivious reader

Rotation (Heat, Kid, Killer, Wire x reader) by @standfucker

explicit NSFW content

Loving you is easy by @sheerxfiction

NSFW

Ace

SFW:

A world we are both in by @my-love-is-sunlight

Kiss by @my-love-is-sunlight

Patching Up Ace's Wounds by @nina-ya SFW

there are more of this prompt with different characters btw!

Help by @sanjisprincesswifey

NSFW:

Open Flame by @willowbelle

Ace + back dimples by @tetzoro

Fated Reunions by @tetzoro

Coward by @mimi-ya

Need by @maddddstuff

Zoro

SFW:

Bloom by @tetzoro

brazen by @mydearlybeloathed

"we should get married" by @grandlinedreams

wake him up! by @sleepymarimo

NSFW:

The Right Direction by @willowbelle

with hearts aligned by @eelnoise

2 years overdue by @heyitsdoe

pumpkin by @cloudzoro

Law

SFW:

touch-starved Law by @maroronoa

the death of me by @weneeya

too sweet for me by @my-love-is-sunlight

there are no conditions by @cozage

Hidden symptoms by @escenariosinfumables

Luffy

A secret by @missmugiwara

18+, suggestive

SFW:

you can talk to me, but you already know by @mydearlybeloathed

clueless by @grandline-fics

Bachata by @fanaticsnail

Mihawk

Sapsorrow by @fanaticsnail

has both SFW and NSFW so make sure to read the chapter warnings!

Creative Cures by @discordantwritings

NSFW

Shanks

SFW:

Remember Me by @fanaticsnail

Dancando Lambada by @fanaticsnail

NSFW:

Always return to you by @discordantwritings

Multiple characters

Hey Doc by @fanaticsnail

some NSFW themes depending on the drabble

so very very funny

The Kissing Booth by @fanaticsnail

Paulie, Luffy, Hongo, Smoker, Aokiji, Heat, Crocodile, Sanji, Shachi, Law, and Zoro (right now)

my favorite ones are: Luffy, Smoker, Heat, Shachi !

Competency, Stupidity, Duality by @fanaticsnail

kid, zoro, and killer

SFW

Post Injury by @standfucker

law, shanks, rosinate, blackbeard, mihawk

gore content warnings

Gremlin Reader by @standfucker

Straw Hats, Whitebeard Pirates, Heart Pirates, and Kid Pirates

literally the funniest fucking thing I've ever read

they hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit by @grandline-fics

zoro, law, shanks

angst, descriptions of injury, and hurt/comfort

Beauty scars by @cozage

law, kidd

borderline NSFW

Truth or Dare by @cozage

Ace, Shanks, Luffy, and Law

SFW + NSFW, the NSFW section is clearly marked by the author

Oblivious flirting by @cozage

Law, Luffy, Ace

SFW

A Plushie Substitute by @cozage

Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, Law

SFW

Five things he says when he thinks you're asleep by @imasimpforshanks

Law, Ace, Shanks

SFW

the moment they knew you were the one by @imasimpforshanks

Luffy, Zoro, Ace, Sanji, Shanks, Law, Sabo

fluff

Falling in love with them by @imasimpforshanks

Ace, Law

SFW

OP to you being clueless to their flirting/feelings part 1 by @astelren

Ace, Luffy, Sabo, Zoro Sanji, Izou, Cavendish, Rayleigh, Law

fluff

there's a part 2!

Being scared to have sex with them by @strawhatsoraya

Zoro, Law, Kid, Ace

obviously NSFW

Calling them my love by @lehguru

Law, Sabo, Ace, Kid, Killer, Bartolomeo

SFW

Kid, Zoro, Law, & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex by @eustasskidagenda

NSFW

there are 2 other parts with different characters!

A celestial dragon wants their fem!s/o by @uramakimochi

Zoro, Sanji, Law

SFW

there's another part too!

Hand placement by @cloudzoro

Ace, Crocodile, Law, Mihawk, Nami, Reiju, Robin, Sanji, Tashigi, Zoro

NSFW

god the ones about the girls are SO GOOD

affectionate + strawhats by @lehguru

SFW

OP boys in a relationship by @moonydustx

SFW

growing old together by @usernameforaboredcat

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

SFW

sobbed

one piece boys rescuing you by @badgerbl00d

law, zoro

sfw

heartstopper by @sleepymarimo

luffy, sanji, zoro, law

sfw

party games they'd play as an excuse to kiss you by @imasimpforshanks

luffy, zoro, nami, ace, law, shanks

sfw

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years

Text

Cheating Heart

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot

A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.

“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”

“Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.”

Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”

Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.

“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”

“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”

“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”

Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.”

The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison.

Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.

Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.

It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell.

“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”

“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”

“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”

Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.

“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”

Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.

“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”

“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.

“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”

“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”

“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”

The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.

You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.

Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes.

“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”

Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.

“--soon?”

You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.

“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood.

You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.

“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you.

If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.

“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!”

His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.

“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath.

Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.

It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.

Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.

Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform.

“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on.

Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.

Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories.

John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps.

You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain.

As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly.

The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations.

“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”

“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”

“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”

“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…

Your eyes harden as reality sets in.

John.

“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own.

Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down.

Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock.

Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all.

A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.

Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.

“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”

“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”

Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.

The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?

John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in.

Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong.

For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him.

“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath.

It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.

A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly.

Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.

Why did you care?

Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man.

“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.

John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks.

The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion.

“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy?

Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound.

If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.

“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”

“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”

“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”

“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder.

Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.

“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”

Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?

Shut the fuck up!

A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.

Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?

That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.

“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.

“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”

Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes.

John’s hands clench, jaw following suit.

You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up.

“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself.

No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it.

That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.

The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!

But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you.

Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.

Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.

If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in.

You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling.

That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority.

But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.

“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”

A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.

“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”

When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.

“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?”

As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight.

If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you.

But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force.

He was your Captain. You were working under him.

You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset.

But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.

“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks.

John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late.

Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds.

Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.

You still felt disgusting.

—

Nothing you did made sense to him.

John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all.

She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail.

I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.

Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong.

But he knew that would only make it worse.

“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”

But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that?

Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.

Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given.

It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent.

You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.

John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything.

“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair.

The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky.

Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.

—

The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in.

You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home.

Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.

He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too.

Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown.

You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.

Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge.

“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.”

The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.

Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.

“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation.

You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.

Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’

John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories.

On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand.

John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters.

“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight.

– John”

Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.

More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.

You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago.

Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances.

It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.

John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation.

You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.

“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”

Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch.

Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking.

But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands.

When had this place stopped being home for you?

“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…”

You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it.

“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”

“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”

Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch.

What’s that noise?

“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”

But you weren’t stupid.

A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet.

You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.

Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles.

Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.

“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!”

Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend.

“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”

Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided.

“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!”

Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”

“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers.

“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them.

Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained.

You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house.

“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly.

“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door.

Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too.

Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.

The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.

“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”

Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip.

You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.

“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”

Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.

“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”

“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!”

“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”

Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”

Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more.

A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.

“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”

Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.

“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”

Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least.

You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.

Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.

The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed.

Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle.

Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise.

Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood.

Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot.

John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through.

Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.

That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.

“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.”

Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat.

The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.

John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.

“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”

“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”

When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off.

“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”

The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright.

Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.

Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his.

John looked so sad.

His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.

“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.”

“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor.

“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting.

“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head.

You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack.

It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something.

You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.

When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone.

Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.

Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)

He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.

“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”

—

Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter.

“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?”

“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?”

Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.”

John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod.

The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.

After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.

Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about.

“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”

“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”

“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”

“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”

“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue.

To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out.

It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it.

“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’

Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from.

“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.”

“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”

John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket.

“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–”

The bell at the front door jingles.

Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips.

A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth.

You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John.

“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.

“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”

The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.

“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”

Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”

A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.

Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.

His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.

“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.”

“...Two.”

“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”

“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?”

A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation.

Why were you not saying anything?

John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles.

There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face.

But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.

Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.

What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…

The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.

Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.

“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two.

John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?

He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.

You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.

John’s eyes slowly widen.

Oh.

—

“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”

“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!”

“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”

“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”

“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved.

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them.

John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”

“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”

Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens,

“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?”

Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name.

The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress.

You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.

But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.

Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me?

It couldn’t be helped.

When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter.

Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship.

Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?

You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.

“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon.

“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.”

Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.”

The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out.

“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”

You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”

“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder.

Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it.

Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.

“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”

“...I might have sucker-punched him.”

John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums.

“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.

He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again.

“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.

“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”

“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.

You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back.

…Why was his hand still on your back?

“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you.

John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.

It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.

Leon was gone.

“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”

The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”

John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you.

His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.

Stop it.

“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”

“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.

Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.

Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did.

If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart.

“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.

“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”

“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand.

“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”

You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.”

Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.

“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”

Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.

“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.”

He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.

“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”

A quiet grunt carries over the space.

You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.

Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”

“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hey–!”

“What in the–!”

Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny.

“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.

“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”

“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.

This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold.

After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?

Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.

You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.

“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head.

His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water.

“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?

“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.

“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place.

His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.

“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.”

The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.

“...Anytime, Dear.”

Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.

The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head?

When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake.

Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat.

“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.

You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?

He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt.

“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”

“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.

“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty.

“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.

“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.”

John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk.

He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach.

Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.

A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.

You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.

“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.

If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.

Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore.

Leon was gone.

“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?”

Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire.

You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior!

Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless.

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”

But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.

It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.

But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?

And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you.

“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.”

So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his.

John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths.

His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke.

“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.

“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.”

His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this.

Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.

The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.

It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.

Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.

“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”

“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?

His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.

“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths.

Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.

“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”

He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.

You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.

That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action.

His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”

Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow.

God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.

John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee.

You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers.

“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”

“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point.

Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now.

“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever.

Annoyance swirls.

“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”

A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.

“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you.

John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner.

He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.

You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you.

John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets.

“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?”

Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.”

“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.

Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs...

You want him naked.

“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest.

The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.

You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.

When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.

John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand.

He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.

You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube.

“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.

Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.

John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug.

“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”

You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.

A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release.

Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”

“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”

Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again.

“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”

His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film.

John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.

“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.

You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release.

“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.”

Fuck you were on fire.

Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you.

John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar.

Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt.

“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”

He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.

“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue.

The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind.

And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.

John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.

“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”

The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot.

Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.

John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still.

Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.

You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.

His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.

“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.”

You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly.

“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it.

Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.

“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”

Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away.

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”

You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.

Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.

“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving.

How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.

But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.

The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.

You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.

Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.

“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other.

“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself.

John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.

“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.”

“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”

“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”

He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.

“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”

The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.

You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too.

“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes.

“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”

“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”

Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.

“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.”

The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same.

“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made.

Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available.

Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it.

“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.”

He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.

John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.

A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”

“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.”

Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”

“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.”

John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”

He trails.

“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”

Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.

“Easier.”

It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.

“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”

You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.

Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind.

John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.

There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared.

—

“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.”

Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–

“That’s it, I'm coming in!”

“Wait!”

But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick.

“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?”

“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–”

“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?”

“Out!”

Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck.

John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”

Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.

“Wait till the boys hear about this!”

The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.

Well, secret’s out.

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