#angst and turmoil and flirting and fucking

[its3nvy]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a Billy the kid imagine where he gets really jealous of the reader and another guy and like drags her away or something. The rest is up to you

Possessive Billy the Kid

Summary: In order to get Billy to admit his feelings for you, you attempt to make it jealous.

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), possessive!Billy, porn with no plot, angst, size kink, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink

Note : Gotta be honest not my favorite work of mine, but I hope you guys enjoy!! (Also, don't forget to like, comment & reblog) :D

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 2.5k

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You were aware of Billy's infatuation with you. You weren’t blind to his gaze; you weren’t deaf to his words. It's undeniable that Billy was deeply in love with you, though he stubbornly denied it.

Billy's hesitancy to act on his emotions was largely fueled by the wounds of past relationships. He'd been hurt before, and those scars had left him cautious and wary of opening up again. 

You've caught on to this, and it's what led you to your current predicament—flirting shamelessly with Luke. The idea was simple: You make him jealous to the point where you'll provoke a reaction, prompting him to confront the feelings he's been holding back.

You glance across the room at Billy, displeased with the unfolding scene between you and Luke. The room is dimly lit, adorned with rustic wooden furniture and low-hanging lanterns that cast a warm, intimate glow.

Ever since Luke entered the picture, his overconfident demeanor has irked everyone. Flirting with Luke was a sure way to get under Billy's skin.

“So, what do you say, hon’? Want to continue this conversation in my bedroom?” Luke flashes you what he clearly thinks is a charming smile.

Billy locks eyes with you, a silent exchange of challenges unfolding. Your eyebrow raises in defiance, met with Billy's stoic expression. A smirk plays on your lips, inviting the storm that brews in Billy's furrowed brows. Heightening the tension, you stand on your tiptoes and lean over the bar, your hand finding its place on Luke's bicep. You whisper something unintelligible into his ear, a secret shared in the midst of the growing chaos.

Luke's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and as he turns to look at you, a mix of shock and excitement gleams in his eyes. The room crackles with unspoken emotions as the atmosphere thickens with anticipation.

Billy's neck turns crimson as anger courses through his veins, catching the subtle shift in Luke's expression. It's the final straw, the breaking point that fractures whatever fragile equilibrium remained between Billy and you. A strange blend of dread and anticipation stirs within you as you watch Billy move decisively toward you, his face contorted with fury.

Sensing the impending confrontation, you back away from Luke, pretending to mull over his proposition. As Billy approaches, you let the tension build.

In a whirlwind of emotion, Billy shoves Luke forcefully against the bar, causing glasses to crash to the floor in a symphony of shattered fragments. He keeps him there by seizing him by the collar with a violent urgency, trapping him amidst the debris of the broken glasses.

A cold steel barrel emerges from Billy's hand, pressing menacingly under Luke's chin the ominous click of him charging it resonating in the tense atmosphere.

"You don’t fucking look at her again," Billy's voice is a low growl, each word heavy with an undercurrent of unspoken turmoil. His intense glare pierces through Luke, a fiery testament to the tumultuous emotions churning within him.

In the charged pause that follows, you find your voice, your words cutting through the tense air. "Billy, enough," you plead, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. "Let him go."

For a moment, Billy's grip on Luke tightens, his eyes locking onto yours with a stubborn resolve. Then, with a reluctant exhale, he releases Luke, who stumbles back, visibly shaken.

As he turned your way, you gripped the edge of the bar nervously. He stalked towards you until he stood right in front of you, the sheer size difference making you look up to meet his eyes. The storm in his gaze was evident, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at his lips.

The hand that moments ago wielded a weapon now reaches for your face, holding it with a surprising gentleness—a stark contrast to the aggression in his eyes. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that carries the weight of unresolved emotions and the turmoil that has been building between you. 

Billy’s lips on yours is everything you hoped it would be: euphoric. His lips feel pillowy against yours, albeit slightly chapped. The force of his lips connecting with yours is gentle enough not to hurt you but aggressive enough to tell you he wants you. His teeth gently pulling your bottom lip between his makes you weak in the knees, and you can’t help but gasp.

Your arms quickly snake around his neck, eyes fluttering shut. You let him keep control of the kiss—you’d tortured him enough—and only pull away when you desperately need to breathe.

As your lips disconnect, he rests his forehead against your own.

"I've fucking had it," he said, his tone carrying an undercurrent of frustration. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and you find yourself locked in a silent exchange, a plea for an explanation lingering on your lips.

Billy, fueled by an intensity you hadn't seen before, grasped your arm, his grip forceful and unyielding. You stumbled along in protest, a mix of surprise and curiosity painting your face. 

He doesn't speak, but his eyes tell a story of pent-up emotions, of things unsaid and feelings unexplored. The atmosphere is heavy with the weight of unspoken words as he leads you down the corridor, away from the prying eyes of the gathering crowd.

"Where are we going, Billy?" you finally manage to ask, your voice echoing through the quiet hallway.

He doesn't respond, his jaw clenched, and his gaze fixed ahead. The tension between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

As you reach his room, he pushes the door open, revealing a space that feels both intimate and charged. The room is dimly lit, casting long shadows on the walls, and the air is heavy with the scent of anticipation.

"Billy, what are-", His lips crashed to yours, hungry and hot and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. He lifted his hand, gently cradling your jaw as he kissed you. With a subtle tilt of your head, the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding into your mouth. A low groan rumbled in his chest as you melted in his arms, giving into him with a moan of pure want. 

He pressed his body to yours, caging you in his arms and trapping you between him and the wall. In response, you surged forward, reaching up and clasping his face in your hands. Your fingers rasped against his stubble, digging into his skin. A low growl escaped him, intensifying the heat in your belly. He pressed harder into you, his cock forming a firm ridge against your thigh.

He broke the kiss, panting harshly, tipping you head back so he could look deep into her eyes. 

You were barely able to form the words, desire swimming so thickly in your veins you could feel nothing else. “Billy, Please-.”

He groaned, a deep and visceral sound of relief and release. His thumb traced a gentle circle on her cheek in a brief moment of tenderness, but his desire for you was too strong to be placid and mellow right now. 

“Turn around,” was all that left his lips.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised by his sudden statement.

“You listening to me, doll?” There was that damned smirk again. “I need you to turn around for me.”

“Why is that?” God, you loved messing with him.

In a swift motion, he spun you around, your chest colliding with the wall, pinned against it. His grip on your hips tightened, a silent proclamation of his control as the atmosphere crackled with the intensity of unspoken words.

“Enough playing, doll,” he spoke against your ear. “You want me to make you mine?”

His fingers delicately traced along the fabric of your bodice, gently pulling it down to reveal your breasts. A soft exclamation escaped him as he pressed sweet kisses to the nape of your neck, his hands tenderly caressing and exploring the newfound intimacy between you.

“I’m gonna show you how no one else can satisfy you.”

Your head was whirling. Your eyes closed at his words, drinking them in like a shot of expensive liquor. “All you’ll be able to think about is me. You want that?”, he whispered against your ear as his free hand hiked your skirts up, and traveled upwards. You gasp when you feel his cool fingers press up against your clit, then travel slightly downwards where your wetness was beginning to leak from.

“Gotta talk to me, doll,” he cooed as a finger danced along your clothed slit, soaking in just how wet you were. “Need to hear how good you feel.”

He watched the way your lips fell open in the sweetest O shape at him pushing your panties to the side and sliding his calloused finger across your clit. You sighed at the break from pleasure as his fingers left your clit. You were breathing heavy, head spinning as he slid his index finger inside of you.

“Billy,” you whined, hand wrapping around his wrist as he pumped his finger agonizingly slowly.

“Hmm?”, he hummed. “Want another? I bet you can take it.” Your chest was rising and falling faster than before as you dug your nails into the skin of his forearm when he slid his finger out and added another.

“That’s it,” he pushed them into you with a delicious curl. “That’s a good girl.”

“Shit,” you hissed as he pumped harder, making sure his palm bumped against your puffy clit. “Fuck, Billy.”

“You’re close already?”, his words filled your thoughts. You nodded dumbly, mouth open and panting. Heat washed over you, pushing you closer to the edge of coming undone for him. Honestly it felt embarrassing how fast he had you melting his just his hands. You were shameless though. Throwing away any dignity just to chase the high he was about to give you. Just as the cord tightened and your body tensed, he withdrew his hand with an adoring smile hidden under his mask.

“Oh you’re so-,“ you struggled to get out. “So fucking cruel.”

The look you gave him over your shoulder was deadly. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing,” he smirked and you knew it from the way his eyes stared down at you. 

‘C’mere, doll,’ he tore the buttons from your skirt, freeing you from any garment you wore that went with them. 

“I’m gonna need you to bend over for me, baby,” he voiced as he began undoing his own pants. You groaned, shuffling your feet backwards and keeping your chest to the wall.

“That’s it,” he kissed you along your jaw and hissed as he began to pump himself slowly. “Good girl.”

You bit at your lip, holding in the moan when he placed the tip of his heavy cock against your slit and began rubbing up and down as he slowly started to press inside of you. Your squirm, his other hand coming to your hip to keep you still. Slowly, he pushes inside. 

“Fuck doll, you’re taking me so well,” he hissed, gripping your ass to spread you open even more. 

“Billy,” you whined, “too much.”

“You can do it,” he pushed further, splitting you open with a delicious ache. “Relax for me.”

“That’s it,” he groaned, moving his hips slowly. “So proud of you,” his praise made your cheeks burn. You both pant as he starts to bottom out, feeling him deep, pressed tightly against your cervix. Pausing for a moment, he gently kissed you, giving you the sweetest reassurance as you adjusted. His actions were tender, creating a gentle moment amid the heated passion.

Billy drew his hips back, brushing against that delicious spot on the way before almost pulling completely out and slamming hard back into you. His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

“Good,” he growled. “So fucking good.”

His thrusts were relentless. Ensuring you felt every inch of his thick cock when he fucked you. You yelped as the tip brushed against your cervix, earning a hiss from him when you tightened around him. Wet slaps filled the air as he pounded you faster, determined to fill every inch of you that he could.

He watched the way your mouth hung open but no noise could even leave this sweet lips of yours, not when he fucked you this good.

“You’re mine,” his other hand reached to the front of you, tugging on your puffy clit. You moaned in response but that wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Go on,” he growled in your ear. “Go on. Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“Billy-“ You felt like you could cry. “Please-“ Every word was cut short by his thrusts deeper into you. You were so close your mind was racing.

“I’m - fuck - I’m yours,” you moaned. “Belong to you.”

He reached for your hands, pulling them behind your back and pinning them against you to use to fuck you harder. He yanked you back on his cock at the same time he thrusted forward too many times to count before the inside of your thighs ran slick. Your vision grew into a blur with each thrust as your brain became fuzzy, your stomach tightened as you grew closer to your climax. 

It only took a second for your wails to turn into sharp gasps, your trembling body going taut as all the tension he'd built inside you snapped. It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a scream as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

"Fuck, I love the sounds you make when you come undone, doll." he mumbled. "So beautiful..." A few more dizzying pumps and you felt him pull out of you with a moan.

“Fuck.” He mumbled to himself, slipping his free arm around your waist to keep you from falling.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He praised between pants against your shoulder. “Don’t think I’m ever gonna let you go now.” You smiled, as he peppered you with kisses. 

"I'd be surprised if the entire fucking town didn't hear us", you managed to breathe out. Billy simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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requests: open!

[justmediocrewriting]

okay but thoughts on sanji x reader where she gets jealous bcs he flirts with every woman he sees and she’s scared to confess because she doesn’t know if he likes her or just loves to play a flirt

Tell It To Me Straight (Because I’m Going Crazy) {v.s}

Summary: it was just like you to fall head over heels for a guy at first sight, only to later realize said guy was the world’s biggest flirt. It would also happen to be your luck that this same guy would join your crew — and now you had to deal with feelings and other things that were equally as unpleasant.

Genre: angst, fluff

Requested: ✅

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: insecurities, pining, Sanji (that’s a warning, right?), angst with fluffy ending ❤️

A/n: anon bless you for requesting my husband Sanji. I love this man so much. This actually took me entirely too long to write and I’m so sorry for that, writers block has been hitting me like a fucking train. Anyway I hope y’all enjoy even tho I feel this one might be a bit shitty ❤️✌️

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Red painted lips curved into a smile, hair pulled into a classy updo, high rosy cheekbones, and donned in a dress that hugged every curve just right, the woman was truly beautiful, and when the dim lighting of the tavern reflected off the pair at the bar, you couldn’t help but feel that she looked too good next to Sanji.

It was a reality that was painful but long since accepted by you, the fact that you’d never truly be good enough for the charming man — but acceptance didn’t curb the cinching pain within your chest, or the burning jealousy that flickered to life in your gut and heated the underside of your skin.

You pursed your lips as you watched the two exchange murmured words and laughs, and fury burned hot in your lungs when the woman brought a hand up to swipe painted fingernails along Sanji’s forearm — Sanji, predictably, didn’t usher the woman away, and your next heartbeat was incredibly painful when Sanji instead leaned into the touch.

It was utterly ridiculous, the way you burned with flaming jealousy — and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were more angry with Sanji’s antics, or the fact that they affected you the way they did, even though you had been aware and exposed to them from the start. Sanji was a flirt, through and through, and it didn’t matter if the woman he flirted with was ugly or gorgeous, he just enjoyed the act of it — and this very fact put you in a position where you had to constantly remind yourself that just because he showered you with compliments and called you pet names didn’t mean they were genuine, or that you were someone special to him.

You’d also thought that acknowledging this fact would chase away the deep feelings you harbored for the man, and in the beginning, it actually did, but Sanji always found a way to drag them back to the surface.

Sanji was tall, he was handsome, and he had a way with words that could make any woman melt, you included. When you’d first encountered Sanji at the Baratie months ago, you had been utterly and hopelessly drawn in by these very traits of his, and still to the day, you found yourself stuck to him like a magnet. And it infuriated you from the inside out.

Because you’d never even asked for it, and the only chance at relief had been stolen away from you when Luffy invited Sanji to the crew, and the man actually agreed — and for the past few months, you’d been plagued with so many emotions that it gave you mental whiplash.

The center of this inner turmoil also didn’t help any. From the moment Sanji locked eyes with you, he was spewing compliments and sweet nothings at you, and looking at you with these eyes that made you squirm in both the most unpleasant and pleasant ways; you’d never had that kind of attention from a man, especially not from a man as attractive and damn sophisticated as Sanji, and it was just as exciting and exhilarating as it was flustering. It was no surprise you’d fallen as fast as you had — anyone would, should they get the time to really be around Sanji for a prolonged period.

You had even once considered admitting your feelings to Sanji; the prospect of confession had swirled into your mind the first night of his joining, when the crew was locked on the path to the Conomi Islands to retrieve Nami. You two had fallen into conversation late into the night, swapping muted stories in the comfortable air of the Merry’s galley, and Sanji was so attentive, so alluring, and his eyes… his eyes were locked onto yours, as if you were the only girl in the world, and there was something within their depths, something that had you wondering if he’d felt the same sensation you had when you two had locked eyes in the Baratie.

They had you wondering, entertaining, if he truly thought of you in the same way you thought of him.

But that notion was quickly tossed away the night at Cocoyashi village — because you noticed that Sanji gave those eyes to nearly every woman he met, save for the ones who were underage, and it hit you so heavily that you were not special to him at all that you nearly lost your breath. From that point on, you swore away your feelings for the man, and promised yourself you’d never let yourself be mislead or disillusioned by his flirts and charms again.

Except, things didn’t really go according to plan.

Because no matter how much you acknowledged the truth of Sanji’s flirtatious disposition, it still affected you — you would still feel so warm and fuzzy inside when he smiled at you, or when those soft endearments and compliments slid past his lips, or when he’d softly stroke your elbow to announce he was passing you aboard the ship…

Everything he did made you jittery and warm.

And you fucking loathed it.

“Are you alright?” Nami’s soft voice and gentle touch to your arm broke you from your scathing thoughts, and you tore your eyes away from the events unfolding at the bar to blink at her.

“Uh, what?” You asked, a little dumbly, and the redhead’s brows furrowed a little.

“I asked if you were alright.” Nami iterated, and you took in a sharp breath, a part of you so desperately wanted to flick your eyes over to Sanji, just to see what was unfolding — but you resisted the urge, and instead forced a smile to your lips.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… spacing out, I guess.”

Nami didn’t look convinced, and your heart stuttered just briefly when she glanced in the direction that you had been previously staring, and a strange sort of look shadowed her eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything else, and instead took a sip of her drink. Now that you’d been pulled back into the present, you were aware of Usopp and Luffy bickering about making “subtle changes” to the Jolly Roger, and you could hear faint snores from your right — sure enough, when you turned your head in the direction, you pinpointed a sleeping Zoro nestled a few feet away from Nami. Part of you wanted to smile, but the thought that Sanji was still at the bar with that woman dulled your ability to do so.

Don’t do it, you warned yourself, but despite the seething voice in your head, you still turned your focus back to the bar, and sure enough, Sanji was still entertaining the woman.

“Jeez, all he was supposed to do was get drinks. Guess we should start sending someone else to do that from now on,” Nami huffed from beside you, and all you could do was nod numbly, because at the moment your throat felt too tight to possibly push words through. Sanji’s lips split into a beautiful smile, and moments later your ears were graced with the rumbling timbre of his laugh, and despite yourself you couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine from the pleasant sound. The sight of his dimples and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes made your heart stutter in your chest, and in that moment, all you wanted was for him to be looking at you like that — to be on the receiving end of that smile and those eyes once again.

Just then, in a moment that was equal parts mortifying and electrifying, Sanji turned his head and locked eyes with you; your breath caught in your throat, and for an irrational heartbeat, you swore that Sanji had somehow telepathically received your desire to be looked at and followed the command, and you wondered if your feelings of burning jealousy and desire were reflected on your face. You forced a small smile to your lips and held up your near-empty bottle in one hand while gesturing to it with the other, silently reminding Sanji of the real reason he’d went to the bar in the first place.

Sanji’s expression changed from confused to realization in seconds flat, and you watched in growing anger as he addressed the woman once more and murmured what you assumed was some sort of departing quote; then he skimmed his fingertips over the length of the woman’s forearm before he turned back to the bar and grabbed three bottles by the neck in one hand and turned on his heel to stalk back to your table.

You tore your eyes from his and downed the small bit of liquid still in your bottle; the bitter taste and satisfying burn gave your mind something else to focus on.

“Sorry about the wait, my sweets. Here are your drinks.” Sanji said smoothly, placing a sweating bottle in front of Nami and then placing one in front of you as well. You tried not to look at him, but your eyes were drawn to his long, dexterous fingers by the light shining off his ring in just the right way.

Anger stirred in your gut at the way he apologized for the wait as if it wasn’t entirely his fault. You bit your lip and brought your hand up to grip the neck of the opened bottle in lieu of yelling at the cook, and downed a few swallows as you watched Sanji take a seat just across from you. Your eyes connected briefly, and you seriously wanted to rip out your chest because of the way it bloomed with warmth.

This was going to be a long night.

————————————————————————

You giggled into the skin of Nami’s neck as you both stumbled side by side; your breath tickling her neck caused the other woman to giggle profusely as well, and walking now felt even more difficult than it had before.

Behind you, Usopp and Luffy also walked side by side with one arm slung over the other, Zoro walking not too far behind them and perfectly, irritatingly balanced — screw him and his inability to get drunk.

The leader of your merry little pack was Sanji, guiding the rest of his drunken crewmates with a confidence and swagger that only he could possess. It kind of pissed you off — but it also made you really, really warm at the same time. And a little wet, but you blamed that on the alcohol thrumming through your system. It was easier that way.

By the time you’d all made it back to the docked Going Merry, Usopp had keeled over and thrown up a total of two times, and had to pull a deadweight Luffy to their sleeping quarters. Zoro was quick to follow their lead and enter his own room, with the assertion that he was going to “get more sleep.” As if he needed more.

“You comin’ to bed?” Nami slurred at you, and you shook your head; you were drunk, yeah, but you weren’t exactly tired at the moment.

“I think I’m gonna go hang out in the galley.”

Definitely not because Sanji would more than likely be there, prepping the rations for tomorrow’s breakfast as he did every night. But by the raised brow and smirk Nami sent you, you knew that she knew that’s exactly why you were going.

“Alright, don’t have too much fun.” Nami teased with an affectionate bump of her hip, and you glared at her back as she swayed her way to your shared room. When you stumbled to the galley, Sanji was there, as you’d predicted, a towel thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously separated a myriad of fruits and vegetables and grains. When you entered, he gave you a charming smile, one that made you extremely weak in the knees. It seemed that the buzz of alcohol had taken away your previous irritation with the cook, and all you could feel now was a warm sort of fuzzy fondness for him — one that you were far too used to feeling.

“Hello, love. Looking for something?” Sanji asked, his accent tickling your ears in the most pleasant of ways. You loved his accent; it just made him all the more handsome and charming in your eyes. You returned his smile with one of your own and head shake.

“Nah, not really. Just wanted to hang in here for a few.” You said, padding as gracefully as you could to the sofa. It took some maneuvering to slip yourself behind the hanging table, but you were able to do so without too much fumbling. Getting drunk wasn’t something you indulged in often, and your lack of stability and coordination was a major factor to that, but your drunken mind was just as unstable as your physical body, and you were quite prone to mood swings — that’s what you were going to blame your next actions on, anyway.

“Jus’ like watching you do your thing. ‘S nice.” You mumbled, and the smile Sanji sent you warmed you from your head to your toes, and you didn’t even have it in you to hold back whatever could be showing through your eyes as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at him.

Sanji turned his focus back to his prep, and he worked while you watched in a companionable silence. As he worked, your mind began to race — your train of thought wasn’t exactly clear or obvious, and the track was definitely a little misshapen, but as always, it was Sanji on your mind. You watched his fingers, his face, his arms, his everything, and you just thought about him.

You thought about the soft little smiles he sent you, about the crystalline blue of his eyes, how easy it was to get lost in them. You thought of the delicate Cupid’s bow of his lips, of the way the parted and formed sentences that were perfectly articulated to muddle your brain and chest. You thought of his hands, large and warm and dexterous. Of his caring disposition, of the way he was always so attentive to the needs of his crew. Your heart felt as if it was swelling within your chest, and you had to force yourself to look away from him lest it completely explode.

But Sanji didn’t seem to understand that you were seconds away from combustion, because he had abandoned his prep in favor of leaning against the island counter straight across from you.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart? You seem lost in thought.”

You snapped your eyes up to meet his, and he was looking at you like that again; eyes soft and brows relaxed, lips pulled into that little smile — you swore it must be love on his face. You immediately became angry with yourself, and instead of answering him, you demanded,

“Why do you do that?”

Sanji looked taken aback, and his throat worked in such a tantalizing way as he swallowed a couple times, confusion written clear on his face when he spoke. Your anger was momentarily replaced by a very warm feeling in your gut.

“Why do I do what, love?”

“That. Talk to me that way.” You said, flapping your hand wildly in a gesture. Sanji’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action your sloshy mind couldn’t help but track and froth over. His tongue looked so soft and pink.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Sanji asked, and in a show of bashfulness that you’d never seen from the cook, broke eye contact to focus on his hands — which he quickly busied one by swiping imaginary dirt from the surface of the island counter he was leaning back against.

“No, not exactly.” You said, lips rather loose from the alcohol. “I just don’t get it.”

Sanji’s brows furrowed and his hand halted in its movement, and rather than waiting for him to respond to that, you began to ramble.

“I mean, it’s just confusing for me. You look at me in this way, and you talk to me like that, all gentle and kind, and it makes me feel special and like I mean something to you.”

Sanji was beginning to look a little bit uncomfortable, but at the moment, your brain only had the capacity to really take your own feelings into consideration — and right now, what you were feeling was confusion and anger, and you needed the answer as to why. So you rose from your seat, knocking your hip into the edge of the hanging table as you did so, but even the shock of pain lacing through your abdomen wasn’t enough to stop your advance. When you were only inches from the man, you rose your hand in a fist and pushed an accusing finger into his chest.

“And you even had me feeling like maaaaybe you felt the same way as me, but was that true? Noooo.” Vivid memories of the night in the galley, when you’d first wondered if what you felt was reciprocated, flew through your mind painfully. You knew your words were slurred and groggy, and you knew you were spilling everything right now, but damn it, it just wasn’t fair.

“It’s not true, and I know it’s not, because you act the same way towards every pair of legs you come across. I-I ju-just—”

You’d started off strong, or as strongly as you could given your drunken state, but now there were tears in your eyes, words cut off by a wet sob, and the anger in your chest had been replaced by a heavy pain. Desperation clawed your mind fiercely, and you just needed to know.

“I’ve been torn ever since we met — I don’t want to feel this way, but you always manage to give me that hope, only to t-take it a-away again. J-just tell me Sanji, please — tell it to me straight, because I’m going crazy!”

Sanji was completely silent, his lips parted in a small ‘o’ as he stared at you with wide eyes. Your finger was still stuck to his chest, and you pulled it back quickly when you noticed, but you kept your eyes fixed on his in a weak glare.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Sanji’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped with the force of the breathy laugh he released. Sanji hung his head, the laughter still bubbling from his throat. You took a small step back at the reaction, confused and heated with something akin to embarrassment, and the courage that the alcohol had given you seemed to have leaked out at some point, because now all you wanted to do was run; answers be damned.

When Sanji glanced back up at you, bright eyes slightly obscured by wisps of blonde hair, your heart skipped a beat; the smile on his face was small but genuine, and when he spoke, his voice sounded halfway exasperated and half way relieved.

“I’ve been pretty stupid, haven’t I, love?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. You knew you looked a lot like a fish, what with your eyes wide and your lips soundlessly flapping, but your throat just couldn’t produce any sound — and that ability was further stunted when Sanji gripped your wrists in his large, warm hands. Using the gentlest of tugs, Sanji pulled you forward until your nose bumped into the broad expanse of his chest, and his hands released your wrists in favor of sliding down to grip your hips softly.

Your entire body froze, skin buzzing and mind drawing blank, and the only thing you could really focus on was the rise and fall of Sanji’s chest, his warmth, the spicy cedar of his cologne, and the hold he had you in.

“Oh, darling… I’m sorry. I never even noticed…” Sanji cooed to you, chin grazing against the top of your head as he did so, and you were definitely about to spontaneously combust right there in the galley. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t moved couldn’t do anything else aside from simply short circuit in Sanji’s arms.

“I’m just flirty by nature, love, that much is true.” Sanji said, and he gently pushed you back only far enough so he could hook a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head up. Your lips were now a hairsbreadth from his, so close that you could feel every undulation of his breathing. Your heart flipped and twisted in your chest, and your skin heated, your gut tightening in a mix of anxiety and arousal that left your mind reeling.

“But all those other pairs of legs, they’ve got nothing on you. You’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for.”

Finally, you found your ability to speak — but your words were still very weak, dampened by a mixture of utter confusion and disbelief. There was no way this was happening, right?

“If I’m the only girl you have eyes for, why do you flirt with every one you see?”

Sanji’s smile was wide and dimpled, crinkling the corners of his eyes in that way that always sent your belly aflutter, and you could feel more than hear his words —

“Because I didn’t know the girl I had eyes for had eyes for me, too.”

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day nine

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, dirty talk), angst, drinking, fluff

length : 6.5k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens

a/n : Here's to hoping this is not as shit as my brain keeps trying to convince me it is. Also apologies to @veronicaphoenix​, maybe do some of the meditation you mentioned in your last comments before reading 😅

•••

day nine

I woke up with a headache, Oli’s arms around me and… a tongue on my cheek? It certainly had me more awake than my alarm did. With utter confusion, I pulled away, only to see Oli licking his lips. When my hand traced my cheek I felt something sticky that definitely wasn’t just his saliva.

“We forgot about the chocolate,” he laughed. “Looks like one of them melted and got stuck to your cheek.”

“And obviously your first idea was to lick it off me.”

“What can I say, I like to get my tongue on you.”

“Fucking hell,” I complained, but he knew I didn’t mean it. I still ended up pushing him off as he tried to reach for my cheek again. “Time to get up, Liverpool’s waiting.”

I didn’t want to look in the mirror. I could feel my swollen eyes, remnants of yesterday’s crying session. But it was no use. As soon as Oli left for his own room, I ventured into the bathroom, assessing the damage and trying to control it as much as possible with make-up. No one needed to see that far into my private life just from the state of my face.

I didn’t allow myself to linger, though. Getting ready, packing my things, shoving my suitcase into the trailer, catching a few more breaths of fresh air before bus call. It would have to do.

Noah was leaning against the wall next to the entrance of the hotel, sunglasses on even in the low light, scrolling his phone, looking bored out of his mind. I’d almost managed to forget last night’s text. The turmoil they’d added to my already existent worries. But it came crashing back now, with a single look at him.

Only, when I approached him, he seemed to pretend nothing at all had happened.

“I’m a bit fragile today,” he groaned, giving me a brief hug and a smile. It bothered me that I couldn’t see his eyes. And that he wasn’t acting differently at all. As if I hadn’t brushed him off yesterday.

“Are we seriously not going to talk about those texts?” I asked, more harshly than I meant to.

Noah looked nothing short of surprised. “Texts?”

“Do you… do you seriously not remember texting me last night? Fucking hell, Noah, how much did you have to drink?”

He sheepishly unlocked his phone again, scrolling through our conversation, the realisation dawning on his face. It quickly turned into what I could only describe as regret. “Fuck, it was… I definitely had some drinks.”

I craved being angry. I craved pushing him away, physically too, yelling at him for the emotional chaos he kept putting me through, but there was no fight left in me that morning. Not after last night, after I’d cried my eyes out to Oli, a resounding headache proof of it.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I sighed, resigned. I put a hand up to my forehead, pressing against the pounding that seemed to increase my the minute. “You can’t say you only want fun and then turn around and do things like these. It’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to any of us.”

Noah was reaching for me. I found myself taking a step back, but his hand still touched my arm and I let him. As I always let him.

“Aubrey…”

He didn’t get to say whatever was on his mind. A shy voice appeared out of nowhere - not really out of nowhere, but my focus had been entirely on the man in front of me - asking if Noah had a moment for a picture. His whole demeanour changed in an instant, my Noah was buried under Noah Sebastian from Bad Omens, happily agreeing but making sure the fan knew he had to leave for the bus soon. They’d snapped a photo or two when I noticed that her eyes were moving back and forth between the two of us.

“I probably shouldn’t ask,” she admitted, rushing her words. “But are you two together? I saw a picture online where you were holding hands and I just wanted to say that you look so cute together and I promise I won’t tell anyone if you tell me!”

Out of all the things I could have possibly expected, this wasn’t one of them. Noah and I? A picture? My brain rattled. Someone must have spotted us in Newcastle when I took him shopping. Where he indeed held my hand. And now there was a photo, possibly all over the internet, causing rumours of all sorts. I looked toward Noah, trying to hide my emerging panic. He knew I needed him to take the lead.

“Aubrey works with Oli actually,” he explained, putting his hand around my shoulders and pulling me close, which felt rather unnecessary in the situation. “We like to hang out. But thank you.”

It felt like a cop-out. He hadn’t outright told her that we weren’t a couple. But he also hadn’t said that we were. Somehow, I wished he had been more adamant into one direction. Either of them. Just to hear him take a clear stand, for once.

The situation was interrupted by someone calling my name now, someone from our crew letting me now it was time to get on the bus within the next five minutes. I gave him a nod. Noah was saying goodbye to the fan, waiting for her to be a certain distance from us, before putting his attention back on me.

“Aubrey…” he started once again.

“I’ll have to get on the bus. I’ll see you when we’re in Liverpool.”

I didn’t leave immediately. At least not until Noah gave me a sad nod and removed his arm from my body. It felt all wrong.

•••

All I wanted to do was call Lia. But knowing her schedule, she was in the middle of work. Plus, there was currently no place on the bus that gave me any sort of privacy and it definitely wasn’t going to be a conversation I needed anyone to overhear. Oli, on the other hand, very much was on the phone, waving everyone away who came close enough to potentially overhear. I ventured into the little lounge at the back of the bus instead. Lee and Mat were, once again hooked to the playstation. I wondered how bands had ever survived before tour busses offered consoles.

“Hey, stranger,” Mat smiled, beckoning me to come in and patting the seat next to him. “Long time no see.”

It was true. On tours we’d been on before, I’d almost become a staple to the group. Most of the time, if only what I thought was by association to Oli, I ended up hanging out with them more than the crew. But this tour had taken me for a toll. Not only had I been spending out with just Oli a lot more, Noah had also appeared in the picture and monopolised the time I usually spend with the rest of the band. I felt a little awkward, now, dropping myself onto the couch next to Mat, but he seemed to pay no mind to it.

I watched as they played, both Mat and Lee attempting to make a little small talk, but both of them also much too invested in winning their round to concentrate much on anything else.

“Fuck that, I’m getting some beer,” Lee announced, getting up and throwing his controller my way.

“Bit early?”

“We’re on tour, Aubrey, time doesn’t mean anything. Now take over for me and kick Mat’s arse, he’s been fucking annoying.”

I didn’t wait to be told twice, motioning for Mat to start another round. We both knew I barely had a chance against him - as much as I enjoyed the occasional game, he had insane amounts of practice on me. The only thing I’d ever beating him in was Mario Kart. I hadn’t let him live that one down yet.

“You’re keeping Oli on his toes, you know?”

I kept myself from turning toward him, questioningly staring at the screen instead, where I desperately tried to keep myself alive.

“Pretty much it’s the other way. I am working for him and he makes sure I don’t forget that.”

Mat chuckled next to me, “He has you running around a lot, hasn’t he? You’re also running around in his mind though.”

“Mat, that’s fucking cheesy,” I replied, so aghast that I looked away from the screen for a second to long. He didn’t waste any time finishing my character off. Putting his hands in the air with a noise of success, I stole the main controller away from him and made quick work of changing the game to Mario Kart.

“Not a lie though,” he laughed, letting me pick my one gaming strength without complaints. “He does care, you know.”

“He can be a fucking dickhead,” I replied, chucking the controller back to him and choosing a character with my own.

I mentally moved the pictures of him holding me and listening to my worries just the night before away. Instead, I forced myself to think about his teasing, about how non-committal he was, about how he never really seemed to speak his mind. Even when I talked to him and Noah at the pub that night, he simply agreed with whatever the other man had suggested and made a joke out of it. I hadn’t forgotten that.

“He’s trying,” Mat sighed. The countdown was on the screen now, briefly capturing our attention as we tried to get the perfect start. “I’m not sure if it’s showing, but he is. And he can’t fucking stop talking about you. The guys and I have considered making you a banned topic when we’re together.”

The blush rose up on my cheeks. I was well aware that many of my waking hours were spent thinking about Oli or Noah or both of them. Somehow, it hadn’t quite crossed my mind that it would be the same for them. The fact that I was occupying his brain even when I wasn’t around left a giddiness in me that I harshly chased away.

“I don’t know if trying is good enough,” I admitted, throwing another shell that hit Mat dead on behind me. “I’m not here to fix him or make him better.”

“You’re already doing that, just by existing.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever heard Mat talk like that. I didn’t want to linger on it, instead making quick work of crossing the finishing line with just a minor lead. Mat grumbled something about needing a beer, too, and how he kept getting tricked into playing Mario Kart with him as if he hadn’t willingly participated. He was almost out the door, when he turned around.

“By the way, what the fuck is going on with him and Noah?”

I bit back the smile. “I have no fucking clue.”

It wasn’t even a lie.

•••

Oli was a bundle of energy. We’d successfully checked in and made our way to the venue right next to the hotel, but no one was ready for soundcheck yet, so Oli was bouncing off the walls in between a few interviews, journalists coming and going as I sent him this room and that place to get it all done in time. It included reminded both him and the interviewers of the end of their allotted time when Oli simply wouldn’t stop talking.

“Coffee run?” Oli asked as we finally had a few minutes after the last interview. Bad Omens were busy soundchecking, leaving Bring Me with the later slot.

“Are you insane? The last thing you need is more caffeine.”

“At least get me some chips then. Being near the water makes me hungry.”

“How the fuck did you just change your mind from coffee to chips,” I asked, but I was already gathering my things to leave and figure out where to get what Oli desired.

“Don’t question the genius.”

“Alight, get your genius arse somewhere useful then until I’m back,” I scoffed as I left.

Luckily, my phone directed me quite easily to the nearest chip shop only a few minutes away on the dock. I made the best of the time and finally dialled Lia’s number, praying she’d be at her regularly scheduled break and available.

“What can I do for the number two angel in my life?” she greeted me enthusiastically.

“Only number two?” I tried to joke, but the words almost got caught in my throat. Just hearing her voice and feeling her love through the phone was enough to get me teary-eyed again.

“Oh, Aubrey, talk to me.”

She could always see through me so easily. It was eerie at times, but I’d grown so accustomed to putting on a poker face for so many people of my life that it felt rather freeing that I couldn’t even try to pretend in front of her.

“I’m in love,” it blubbered out of me before I could stop it. I dodged a few people who looked like they were heading to the gig tonight, keeping my head down just in case anyone would somehow recognise me. At least when I was on the verge of crying.

“And that is a bad thing?”

“Yes!” I almost shouted, briefly forgetting about my plan not to draw any attention to myself. “It is horrible. Because I’m in love with two fucking men who both told me they only want some fun.”

I wasn’t sure how long it took to fill her in with the happenings of the past days. Manchester already seemed like a lifetime ago with how much had gone down in the meantime. Lia was as quiet as she could be as the person that she was, which said a lot really, and I appreciated it. I simply needed to get it all out in one go before the nerve left me.

She stayed quiet for a little bit after that and I let her. I had long found the takeaway I’d been heading to, pacing back and forth in front of it, unable to keep still until I heard her judgement and, possibly, her advice.

“Two things,” she finally said. “One: Those boys are lying to you and to themselves because no one who just wants to get their dicks wet behaves like that. However, you can’t force them into anything they won’t admit to themselves. And unfortunately I have no way of telling if they’ll get a grip. I can offer to bash their heads in if they don’t though.” A choked chuckle erupted from my throat. “Two: You need to think about how much you can take and you need to be selfish. If your arrangement works for you, go do them as much as you like and enjoy it. But you’re hurting right now because you’re not getting what you need and what you deserve. And you’ve been down that road before. Don’t let yourself be destroyed just to be what you think someone else wants you to be. You’re worth so much more than that.”

“Lia, I…”

“Don’t answer any of that right now. Just think it over. I love you, okay? I need to get back to work now, but text or call me any time. I’m just a train ride away, always.”

I ended up with so many tears streaming down my face, the poor cashier at the chip shop barely understood my order.

•••

Noah was avoiding me, plain and simple. It was even that I’d actively attempted to speak to him again - after our short talk this morning and Lia’s reassurance, it felt justified to expect him to come to me if he had anything to say. However, it remained painfully obvious that he would turn the other way if he saw me in the hallway, move to a different room if I entered and absolutely refuse to make eye contact through it all. It was starting to grind my gears.

I decided to move back to Oli’s dressing room, spending the time before the show would start with him. At least he wasn’t running from me. He was sitting in the farthest corner of the room, facing the door, and yet, as soon as he saw me, he snapped his laptop shut so quickly I feared it was going to break.

“Secret mission?” I asked, brows raised, but never stopped approaching him. He made quick work of moving his stuff away from the couch so I could drop down next to him.

“You know it. Top secret. Highly confidential. Almost as well-guarded as our next album.”

“But hopefully not taking as long to reveal itself, whatever it is.”

“You’re a rude one, you know that?” Oli asked, but his tone was playful and his hand was messing with my hair. I swatted him away immediately. “Rude and annoyed. What’s up with you?”

I let out a massive sigh, much too big for my ribcage, and I felt the sting when I inhaled. One more look at the screen of my phone, but Noah still hadn’t given me any sign of life.

“Looking for jobs and places to stay again?” Oli guessed, incorrectly, but I didn’t want to tell him the truth anyway. The situation between the three of us was messed up enough, I didn’t need to come crying to him because of something Noah had or hadn’t done when he himself was involved with both of us.

“I would be okay with my few savings if it was just for the job search going badly, but now… A year ago, a would have just forced Lia to let me stay with her but she’s married and all honeymoon-ed up still and I’m definitely not bulldozing my way into that.”

I could tell he was thinking about saying something, an unhelpful comment, a plea for me to reconsider moving in with Lia temporarily, an empty phrase like it will work out, but I didn’t want or need any of it.

“Whatever. I’m done with the bad mood. You have a show to play and tomorrow we’ll be in Sheffield and we should concentrate on that.”

Oli grabbed my chin in his hand, dragging me toward him until he could place a kiss on my lips, his mouth so much softer than his fingers as they were digging into my skin. I let him, the way I let him do anything to me, turning into nothing but a soft body to do with as he pleased. It was over much too soon and I craved more, but I knew the time until he had to be on stage was ticking.

“Wanna do something fun?” he teased, smiling so brightly I could see the sharp edges of his vampire teeth peeking out.

“That sounds suspicious as hell, Oli.”

He leaned over toward the make-up table, grabbing a pencil I couldn’t quite see properly yet, before chucking it at me. Eyeliner. At least not the liquid type, but soft and waxy. I uncapped it and twisted a bit of it upward.

“Bet you’ve always wanted to do my make-up.”

The thing was - I did. I wasn’t particularly good at it, but I’d watched Oli paint his face, have MUAs do their magic, have him ask his bandmates for help if he deliberately went for a more smudged and untidy look. I’d always loved the way some black around his eyes made him look just that tiny bit more feminine, impossibly long lashes and gorgeous irises. I wasn’t sure how much of that he knew, but it was absolutely raising my spirits.

“Alright. Chair, now.”

Oli chuckled but didn’t resist, moving over to the chair in front of the make-up table and mirror. I surveyed what was available to me but ended up sticking with the eyeliner he had handed to me. It seemed like the safest option. Especially because I’d never put make up on anyone but myself.

I ordered him to close his eyes, deciding to start with his upper lid, and leaned down, but the position was hell on my back and the angle was weird. I tried to scoot another chair close, but then the distance was too large and my arm wouldn’t hold steady enough.

“Right, enough of that, c’mere.”

With a steady grasp, he held onto my hips, pulling me into his lap so I was straddling him. He looked awfully smug about it, too.

“I spend a lot of fucking time in your lap lately,” I mused, but I wasn’t really complaining. We both knew as much. My hands rested on his chest, the tip of the eyeliner almost threatening to touch his shirt and ruin it with black, waiting for him to resume his former position and close his eyes.

“Maybe it’s where you belong,” he whispered, pulling me closer, dragging his lips over the side of my neck, a feeling so soft and honest that I couldn’t tell him to stop just yet. His tongue was on my pulse point. I almost expected a bite to follow, something more harsh, him turning the delicate moment around, but it never came.

Instead, when he leaned back, mustering me but still not allowing me to continue trying to get some colour on his face, he said, “You should wear lipstick more often.”

My hand inadvertently moved to my lips, even though I knew they were bare. The only make up I was wearing had been meant to hide my cried out eyes from the night before, although some of it had shifted when the tears had returned on my call to Lia, but Oli never mentioned it and I silently thanked him for it.

“‘specially the type that stains,” he added.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “The type that stains?”

“Yeah. Not like the one two nights ago. Watched you kiss Noah and he didn’t even get a little bit of red on him.”

“Is that what you want? Lipstick stains?” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the thought. “All over you and Noah? Because I can make that happen.”

“Tomorrow,” he decided. “When I’m done with the social rounds back home and Drop Dead. I’m taking you and Noah out for dinner.”

I ignored the way my body craved to stiffen at the idea of meeting Noah. How I was still waiting for him to approach me, explain himself, apologise. We’d figure it out, in time. Surely. So, instead of letting my annoyance at him take over, I nodded at Oli.

“Tomorrow. Now hold the fuck still and let me do my work or you’ll end up with a fake moustache on your face after all.”

•••

I had just about finished drying my hair and pulling a ridiculously oversized shirt over my head after a shower that was so hot it probably would have left scorch marks on the devil, when a knock sounded on my door. The temptation to ignore it was high - all I really wanted was to fall into bed and ignore the world until my alarm went. But the knocking, once again, persisted, irregular noises that suggested whoever was in the corridor wouldn’t just leave.

Noah was drunk. I knew it immediately. It wasn’t the bottle of Hennessey in his hand or the smell of alcohol on his breath when he greeted me. It wasn’t even the way he leaned against the doorframe, not suave as he usually was, but clinging on for support. It was in his eyes.

“Fuck, Noah, what are you doing?”

“Lemme in, please?” His puppy dog eyes only managed to look like a grimace. “I just want to apologise. Really.”

He wasn’t completely gone and I thanked whoever was responsible for that because the last thing I needed was trying to maneuvre his tall ass into bed and holding his hair while he puked, but the drink had done enough to make him look at me differently, to hold himself with a different kind of effort. Maybe had done enough to make him be honest in a way he was unable to otherwise.

An older couple passed behind him, throwing me a questioning and potentially judgemental look at the way he swayed in my doorway, so I relented and pulled him in. No need for a public scene. Or people taking photos.

“Alright,” I decided, settling down on the ledge of my bed and pointing toward the armchair in the corner. “Sit and explain, then.”

I grabbed the bottle as he passed me, surprisingly not encountering any resistance or protest, and took a swing for good measure. Whatever he had to tell me, the alcohol would hopefully lessen the impact just a little.

Noah sat, as instructed, and while he was looking at me in theory, his eyes didn't meet mine at all. Instead, they hastily flicked between several places on my body, anything that wasn't my face.

“Aubrey, I realise that over the past few days my… my actions haven't been aligning with my words and, uh, you don't deserve to have me cause disarray in terms of your emotions-”

“Did you write that down and learn it by heart?” The way his stare awkwardly redirected to the floor only seemed to confirm my suspicions. “Fucking hell Noah, I don't need a fancy ass speech! I just want to know what the fuck is going on and I need you to stop being so fucking sweet to me when all you're willing to do is fuck me.”

I couldn't tell when I had gotten up but by the time I realised I was already pacing the floor. Noah got up, seemingly on his way to me, but stopped dead in his tracks.

“Fuck, dizzy,” he mumbled unhappily. Still, he reached out, stopping my movements with a single hand on my arm. “I'm sorry, Aubrey. I'll… I'll do better, I swear. I just can't stay away from you.”

“You don't need to stay away from me. I don't want you to,” I signed, grabbing onto his hips as he swayed a little. “You need to lie down, Noah.”

I had meant his own bed, in his own room, far away from me, leaving whichever bandmate he was rooming with that night to take care of him for the night. But I couldn't. I simply couldn't. Not with the way he was looking at me, allowing me to see so much hurt and confusion and need for something I couldn't quite comprehend yet. So I lead him to my own bed instead, once again helping him get undressed down to his underwear and tucked him under my blanket.

I wanted to be mad at him so badly and I knew he'd deserve it too. But my heart ached when I looked at him, so obviously struggling with his own feelings, wanting to do everything right and failing again and again. I didn't know if I would ever get what I wanted and needed from him. Lia's words echoed in my brain. But as much as it hurt, at least for the remainder of this tour, I knew I wouldn't manage to let go of him.

“Aubrey.”

My name tasted so sweet falling from his lips. Before I gave rationality a chance to take over, I lied down next to him, far enough away not to be touching, close enough to see every breath move his chest, every flutter of his eyelashes. His eyes were closing on their own accord. How long had he been drinking? The bottle wasn't all that empty but he could have started with something else. I wondered what had come first - the first sip or the overthinking. I was sure he had done plenty of the latter. How long he had sat somewhere drowning his sorrows or pleading the bottle for more courage?

“You deserve so much more than me,” Noah mumbled, pulling me out of my thoughts. I’d been sure he had fallen asleep already, but now, for a moment, his eyes were opening again, just enough to finally look at me, really look at me. His hand reached for mine, holding it so tenderly that I wanted to scream. That I didn’t care about what I deserved or what was good for me or whatever other bullshit he had to say, that I wanted him despite it all, because of it all.

I didn’t have to decide what to reply. Noah’s breathing had steadied, eyelids shut again, and from the slightest twitch his hand gave, I knew he had fallen asleep. Yet I felt more awake than ever, the sound of my beating heart the only thing filling the room.

•••

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when I woke up, especially after having been so sure I wouldn’t find any rest at all that night. No light came in from behind the curtains, so I figured it was still night. Although with how gloomy this January was proving to be, that actually wasn’t much of a sign. The room next to mine, Oli’s room, was still silent as well. Hopefully he was getting some decent sleep. It wasn’t a secret that he struggled with that more often than not.

With the darkness and silence still enveloping the room, I questioned what had woken me up at all. The answer came rather quickly.

I had turned away from Noah in my sleep, but he had apparently disagreed with the distance it had cause between us because he had shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around me, keeping me safe and secure in his embrace. And then he moved, just the tiniest bit, and all I could possibly think about was the way I suddenly noticed his hard-on pressing against me.

My breath was refusing to escape my lungs. The sensation was so new, so intimate, so intense, despite everything we’d done before. When he moved again, a tiny noise leaving his mouth, I knew he was awake. Awake and trying so hard to keep himself in check. Which was the last thing I wanted. I could feel him twitch, could feel his slightly laboured breathing hitting the back of my neck, his strong chest molding against my back.

“Noah,” I whispered, grabbing his hand as it was pressed slightly against my belly. He stiffened immediately, as if caught out, and now it was him holding his breath.

But I wanted it. I wanted him. This simple situation had erased every ounce of resolution about potentially staying away from him. It was nothing short of impossible, all of a sudden. My body needed him in ways I’d rarely experienced, my mind spinning with the possibilities. There was nothing left in me that could refuse him.

“Are you still drunk?”

“I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing,” he answered, voice rough and low and sending tingles down my spine.

It was all I needed to hear. Pulling his hand higher, I put it over my breasts, allowing him to touch, allowing him to do what he pleased with me. Noah immediately responded by pushing his cock against my arse with force, now free of constraints, and I let out a pitiful moan. Both of us were only in our underwear, my shirt having ridden up to my waist in my sleep, and it still wasn’t anywhere near being close enough. He was growing harder with every movement, grinding against my body, kneading my breasts. I was burning with desire. I didn’t care about slow, or teasing, or romantic.

I led his hand down my body, pushing it between my legs so he could feel my growing arousal, the way I was starting to soak through my panties. It was almost embarrassing how quickly I got wet with him or Oli around, but I simply couldn’t help it. My body craved them with an intensity that had me ready to go in a heartbeat.

One of Noah’s legs slotted between mine to spread my thighs further as his fingers slipped under the waistband of my underwear. He wasted no time finding my clit, just for a moment, before moving lower, pushing a finger inside easily.

“Fucking hell, Aubrey, you’re killing me.”

I whined loudly, already needing more as I tried to grind down on his finger to get that bit more friction. With every movement, every noise I made, I could feel his cock push against me. I wasn’t the only impatient one.

“Please tell me you have a condom on you,” I groaned, still moving with him, but needing so much more.

Noah didn’t answer, but he took his hand away, making me gasp at the loss, and turned around to where I presumed he had dropped his jeans on the floor next to the bed. I sat up, just for a second, to remove my shirt. I wanted as much skin contact as humanly possible, craving to feel him everywhere on my body, and the fabric had been an unwelcomed barrier. In a quick move, I also slipped my panties down my legs and discarded them, hoping he’d follow suit.

Turning my head toward him, I watched as he indeed removed his underwear and put on a condom with a moan.

“I went for extra lube,” he chuckled, “but I don’t really think you need it.”

Then Noah was back on the bed, resuming the position we’d been in before and I almost cried when I felt his dick press against me, between my legs, no clothing left between us. He lifted my leg again, his cock moving up and down my pussy in teasing motions.

“Fuck, please, just…” A moan interruped me when his tip bumped against my clit.

“Just what, angel?

“Fuck me, Noah.”

It was all it took. With his arm wrapped around me once more to hold me steady, Noah pushed in, slowly, achingly slowly, and I felt like I was going to fall apart even before he was in all the way. It was simply so good, so perfect, as if he’d been meant to fuck me all along, that nothing else in the world seemed to matter anymore but his body against mine, moving inside of me.

His thrusts weren’t speeding up. I couldn’t tell if he was lost in the enjoyment of the feeling or if he had set out to tease me to the point of begging. I wasn’t above it. I would plead him any day, if that was what he wanted.

“Noah,” I whined, trying to grind down on him, but the position left me at a disadvantage while his arm held me in place. He was pressing hot kisses to the back of my neck now, finding all my sensitive spots, moving behind my ear and down to the top of my spine. “Please, I can take it, I promise.”

He didn’t get any quicker, but every time he pushed into me now, it seemed to be with a little more force. My hands didn’t know what to do or where to go. One kept grabbing at his own hand splayed on my lower stomach, the other kept fisting the sheets. His kisses turned into bites, teeth tormenting the skin on my neck and I hoped it would leave a mark.

When Noah spoke again, his mouth was right next to my ear, his breath impossibly warm. “Yeah? Think you can? Want me to fuck you hard and fast? So you’ll feel me tomorrow? Gonna think of me every time you move cause I ruined your gorgeous pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, my arousal climbing and climbing into the impossibly. “Fuck me, ruin me, anything you like.”

Suddenly, Noah pushed me on my front, still buried deep inside me as he grabbed my hips but kept me in a lying position, a hand pressed to my shoulder blades. And when he finally kept his word and made my wishes come true, it was beyond what I could have expected. He was relentlessly pounding into me, moving with a speed and strength I hadn’t experienced with him yet. I took it all, willingly and happily, letting him fuck me into the mattress until I felt utterly brainless.

The room, so utterly quiet just shortly before, was filled with the sounds of hit skin hitting mine, my moans rising higher and higher with every thrust, and his low groans as he chased his own high. My face was pressed into the pillows, but it still did little to muffle my voice.

I was so close to coming undone, his dick hitting all the right spots, his hand still pressing me down into the bed, it was like I could taste the end.

“Touch yourself, I want to feel you come,” Noah ordered. How was I ever going to refuse? I shuffled just enough to get my hand between my body and the mattress and as soon as I touched my clit, I knew it wasn’t going to take much. “Fucking gorgeous. Taking me so well, like you were made for me. You look so fucking good with my cock inside you.”

When I came, it took me with such force that I felt dizzy, a ringing in my ears briefly quietening everything around me, to the point where I had no idea how loud I was or if I was even still making noises at all. Noah followed in perfect alignment, shuddering thrusts as he came into the condom and I craved so much for the barrier to be gone, to feel it all, to have it inside of me. He was loud, louder than expected, then his movements faltered. When he pulled out, I made a single noise of complaint, even though I already felt sore.

I stayed on my front, Noah somewhere beside me, our breathing slowly settling down again. I felt cold and exhausted, the sweat on my skin turning uncomfortable. Then I felt his hands on me, all assertiveness gone, simply soft and careful movements to turn me on my side toward him. His lips met mine in an unhurried kiss, sweet and slow. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. And when he pulled away, keeping me in his embrace and looking at me with those brown doe eyes that I’d come to adore so much, I knew that there was no way back to me. I’d fallen for Noah Sebastian, hard and fast, and all I wanted was to make him mine.

[lalaverdecia]

My Thoughts On The ‘Ghosts’ Season 3 Finale

🎶 Guess who’s back, back again, the Ghosts-obsessed-bitch-who’s-still-super-salty-about-the-writers-breaking-up-Isaac-and-Nigel-like-what-the-hell-why-would-you-do-that… tell a friend 🎶

Why hello fellow Ghosts fans. Isn’t this just a lovely surprise. I haven’t posted anything about Ghosts since before the season 3 finale. And I think we can all guess why that is. But I will get to that in a minute.

Firstly, I wanna address something before y’all read my Ted Talk/emotionally fulled rant. I needed to take a break from the Ghosts fandom all together before collecting myself. The reason why I did that is because I realized I was too obsessed with the show. I get pretty into certain fandoms but with Ghosts it was different for some reason. And because of that, I did something incredibly stupid and wrong. I was so upset with how the season ended, I went to Twitter (or X fuck you Elon) and started blasting Joe Port (one of the producers of the show) for it. I was saying ‘how dare you fucking do this, don’t you know how important this show is to people?!’ And it was during this hate filled rant that I suddenly realized, I had a problem. And I was taking it out on others. I immediately stopped and deleted the tweets and messaged him apologizing for my behavior. It was NOT okay of me to do that and I’m so ashamed that I was capable of doing something so beneath me. So I decided I needed to take a step back from the Ghosts fandom before coming back. I’m still a huge fan of the show, don’t worry, but I’m working really hard on trying not to let my emotions affect other people. I can be a huge fan of something but without being a dick about it basically.

So with that being said, let’s discuss the big ass elephant in the room.

HUGE DISCLAIMER:

These thoughts on the show are just my personal opinion and in no way trying to dictate how the series should go. Please do not go and harass anybody who works for the show like I did.

3x10 ‘Isaac’s Wedding’ Discussion

Oh boy was I upset. Isaac left Nigel at the altar and decided to break up with him. He explained how he thinks there’s something missing in their relationship and decides he can’t be with Nigel without that something. This didn’t just upset me, it seemed to upset a LOT of people. And for good reason I might add. It seemed to fall into the ‘Bury The Gays’ trope that television seems to do too often.

(I couldn’t post the link for some reason but here’s what the video looks like for reference)

In this video, it explains what ‘Bury The Gays’ means and the origins of it. It also gives examples on the different types of tropes there are here. Where Isaac and Nigel seem to fall under is the ‘Miserable LGBTQ+ Lives’ one. It explains that these queer characters face way too much angst and turmoil before/if they can even be happy.

Now I know, Isaac and Nigel come from a different period in time so it’s to be expected that they’re a bit set in their ways. But the amount of progress they’ve made up until 3x10 seems to have been thrown out the window. Along with why Isaac decided to break things off. It’s implied by the writers, BSJ, and the characters in the show themselves, that one of the reasons for why it ended was because Isaac had just realized he was gay and went for one of the only other gay male ghost at Woodstone.

But there’s the huge problem with that. For two and a half centuries, Isaac and Nigel have been pining over each other. Isaac may not have been openly gay but knew that he was in love with Nigel and vice versa. In 1x08 D&D the other ghosts explain to Samantha that their playful back and forth flirting has been going on since they both died. It wasn’t out of convenience because they were both attracted to the same gender, it was because they both genuinely liked each other. Hell, even before they both died, Isaac was spying on Nigel in his camp because he was infatuated by him. He had no idea Nigel was gay as well and probably didn’t at first when they died. But along the way, he seemed to have started to pick up on the fact that Nigel liked him too, but didn’t want to say anything out loud. There’s also other gay male ghosts that he could have pined over. (AKA Jenkins, George, and let’s be honest I wouldn’t be surprised if one of or all the other main male ghosts were queer in some way) So no, their love was NOT out of convenience thank you very much.

Nigel’s Character Arc (or lack there of)

People have mixed feelings about Nigel as a character. Some say he’s the best side ghost character in the show. Others say he sucks and is one of the worst characters.

Ever since Nigel first appeared in season 1, his past and personal information have always been up to debate. He has yet to have an episode or an A or B plot dedicated to just him and learning about him as a person. Most of the time, he is seen around Isaac. Rarely is he alone with the other ghosts in the mansion. Yes he established the ant watching club with Thor and Pete but it would have never really happened if it wasn’t for the conflict between Isaac and Thor in 2x01 ‘Spies’.

You’d think with the fourth season coming out in October, we would have learned a lot more about Nigel by now. All the main ghosts have already had an episode centered around them. Now you can argue and say that Nigel has had that with 1x08 ‘D&D’ when he was first introduced, but even then it was mainly about Isaac and learning that he had killed Nigel and trying to apologize to him for it.

Like stop and think for second here: can you name 3 things about Nigel’s personal life besides being in the Revolutionary War? Where did he grow up? (And yes I know it would be somewhere in Britain I’m asking where specifically) What was his family dynamic like? Was he ever married? Did he have children? What kind of jobs did he use to have if at all before the war? When did he realize he was gay? How did this affect him when he was alive? Was he open to others about being gay? Or did he have to hide it to protect himself during a time and place where being queer was really dangerous for people? Okay I get that the last few questions are too personal to just bring up in conversation but you get my point. We barely know ANYTHING about the guy!

So What Now? And How Isaac And Nigel Can Fix Their Relationship

Now, y’all are gonna be shocked to hear this from me, but after doing some thinking and consideration, I’m actually kinda glad Isaac and Nigel are taking a break.

WHAT?! I hear you say?

Look, am I happy with HOW they broke up? Absolutely not! The writers could have done a much better job at hinting to the break up between Isaac and Nigel. But instead they just sprung it onto us at the last possible second. But what’s done is done, so the big question is what’s next?

Back to why I’m sorta glad Isaac and Nigel broke it off. They both need some time apart to sort themselves out. Because let’s be honest, as cute as they are together, it could be better. For example, their communication skills need improvement. Like, by a lot. They just need to say upfront what they both want and need from the other person and speak up when one of them crosses a line. But in order to get there, they need to be apart from each other to work on their own personal issues first.

Nigel may be the more open and laid back person in the relationship, but he has a few problems he needs to recognize and work on. Like his temper. He’s not rude or abusive, god no, he just tends to get upset a little too quickly. (We on the ‘Ghosts’ discord server have described this as him being feisty. He’s a feisty little crumpet) Another issue Nigel has is his forwardness. What I mean by this is that Nigel seems eager to move quickly in his relationship with Isaac. Wanting to share a room/bed, wanting physical intimacy, etc. Which on its own isn’t a bad thing. But when you get into a relationship with someone (especially when the other person hasn’t been in a gay relationship before) you don’t wanna rush into things. And Nigel needs to recognize this before getting back together with Isaac.

But now on to Isaac…

My god where do I begin.

Anyone who has ever seen the show knows this man’s got some problems. He has some toxic traits he needs to fix ASAP. Some petty, narcissistic traits but others being internal struggles with his identity and trying to find out what he REALLY wants with a partner. Now his internal issues aren’t the problem, it’s how it’s effecting his relationships. His way of thinking led him to be engaged to Nigel too quickly. Instead of taking his time and realizing, ‘Wait, I literally have forever to figure myself out’, he felt it was necessary to propose to Nigel because he was worried about sharing a room with him. So it made it easier for him to justify sharing space with him because that’s what married couples do. But when he realized he made that mistake, it was too late. He and Nigel were at the altar and Isaac had to break things off before he could hurt Nigel even more than if they were married. As hard as it was, he knew he couldn’t afford to put Nigel in an unhappy marriage like he thinks he did with Beatrice.

And it’s not just Nigel he has had problems with, it’s with almost everyone else in the mansion. I mean, he dumped Crash’s head in a tree stump because he was bored. He wanted Jay to dedicate his restaurant to him and theme it around HIM. He does care about others yes, but he is also really selfish and needs to work on that before getting back together with Nigel.

CONCLUSION

Phew 😮‍💨

This was the longest ‘Ghosts’ post I ever made. And exactly 3 months after season 3 ended. And I didn’t even plan for that. I hope you enjoyed my spiel or Ted Talk or whatever you wanna call it.

I’m not sure what season 4 will bring, but we can all agree on one thing…

We better get another Nisaac kiss because we’ve only gotten 1 so far throughout this entire show like EXCUSE ME?!

[thedoover-if]

mc slurring to our bartender ro "I hope I never fall in love again" looking down their glass with a bittersweet smile. crushing!bartender please!!! for the angst

thank you for this great prompt i LOVE it (also ive read through some mail and youre all SO creative im literally writing everything down LOL very great minds in here!!!!!)

ill put it under the cut cause its a little lengthy and i dont want it to clog your feeds (hope it makes sense LOL kinda wrote it in a rush so might be a little bad sorry)

Even through all the flashing lights and turmoil, you can’t help but feel, in this very moment, it’s just the two of you – the only thing standing in your way the glossy bar counter. Right now, you can’t see yourself reflected in those coffee-stained eyes, instead they’re all the way down to the left, focused on some drunken guy barely able to string together coherent words, let alone sit without sliding straight form their stool. They’ve been at it for a while; [redacted] refuses to supply any more drinks but the guy won’t have it. Suddenly, [redacted]’s tattooed arm slams onto the counter, shot glass in hand, whilst taunting the guy to take it, if he so desperately wants to. A few heads turn to see what the commotion is about, and you can’t help but lean in too, curious to watch the scene unfold. Yet, just before the drunk blondie gets the chance to grab onto the drink, [redacted]’s head falls backwards, emptying its contents in one quick swig.  Then two security guards engulf the skinny man, easily lifting him into the air, before dragging him through the crowd, until all that’s left of the guy’s the continuous swears hurled at [redacted]. “Yeah, fuck off,” [redacted] shouts back, whilst making their way back in your direction. At the flick of a switch their eyebrows relax, allowing the delicate skin between to fall smooth again – no more creases. And once they’re leaning onto the counter, face only inches away from yours, their entire façade has completely changed – a lazy smile rests on their slightly wet lips now. You wonder: if you were throw all worry out the window and breach this minor gap right now, would faint hints of vodka accompany the intimate embrace? But before you can even imagine the sensation, their velvety voice spills into your eardrums, sending waves of electricity through your entire body. “Hey,” they smile lazily, nodding their head onto the drink now set in front of you, “your favourite, right? To cheer you up.” It’s like you have no control – just like that, you’re sat smiling like a fool, eyes falling on everything but the person mere inches away from your face.  Maybe you shouldn’t have downed the two drinks earlier in one-go… “You shouldn’t have,” you say, gently knocking your fist into their exposed shoulder, whilst at the same time trying to decrease the intensity of the grin causing a slight ache in your cheeks. “For you? Always.” You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol currently setting your entire internal system ablaze, or if it’s simply your friend’s unwavering gaze. But it’s too much, so you just tilt your head down and pull the straw to your lips. “I hope I never fall in love again,” you slur before the sugary contents of the drink flood your entire mouth. However, that sensation doesn’t last for long, when a heat suddenly caresses your lower jaw, forcing you to meet that penetrating chocolate gaze again. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” For a moment, you just allow the warmth to set alight every single nerve on your skin, as their finger rubs circles on your chin. “[redacted]! You better stop flirting and start working!” someone calls, instantly shattering the moment. Then you’re back to the beginning – they’re attending to whatever new person, while you’re sat here, watching. 

[happy-beeeps]

Right Where You Left Me

WC: 5.5k

Pairing: Echo x f!reader

Summary: After Echo was presumed dead, you started a new life on Tatooine, but what happens when he comes back?

A/N: This is a two-fer! @starboytech and I did the roll for clone that @ghostofskywalker created a while back, and I was able to combine it with a prompt for @clonexreaderbingo! My roll for clone prompts included Echo, exes, fluff, and a playlist! So enjoy this fic that got away from me, I will be writing another part or so, and enjoy the playlist below! Also this playlist is for like this fic vibes and I prommy its fluffy but the general synopsis is slightly angst so sorry for all the sad songs!!!!!

You Missed My Heart- Phoebe Bridgers

Cornelia Street- Taylor Swift

Come Back, Be Here-Taylor Swift

Chicago-Louis Tomlinson

Right Where You Left Me-Taylor Swift

Fine Line-Harry Styles

Francesca-Hozier

The Night We Met-Lord Huron

You really had no idea what brought you to this godforsaken dust pile. Well, technically it was a collective bantha shitload of grief and a well placed advertisement promising a new life and a new career. What the advertisement promised was the aforementioned new life and career, somewhere exotic where no one knew your name. What the advertisement didn’t disclose until you were on the landing platform of the Mos Eisley spaceport with your bags in hand was what an absolute wasteland Tatooine really was. In reality, you could’ve coughed up the cash and went home to Coruscant, or even to your birth system, but what was there to go back to? Echo, your love and light and bright spot in every way, was gone, he’d been gone since the Citadel and there was no chance he was coming back. You couldn’t keep dragging his brothers down when they came to visit you, or moping around your friends’ wine nights. Besides, your credits went far here and you were out of the way enough to escape the general turmoil of the war–and the foundation of the Empire.

The work came easy, and you settled into a stable routine. The cantina paid fine, and you were able to afford a small house in one of the lesser crime ridden areas of the town. Serving drinks was simple and mind numbing, and you found it easy to bat your eyelashes and flirt your way into extra tips. Every so often a rogue bounty hunter or homesteader tried to take you out, and once or twice you even obliged. The last man you agreed to go out with, a quiet moisture farmer named Timo, became one of your closest friends on the system when you explained you just didn’t have it in you. You hated pulling the “dead boyfriend” card, you had built your character here on being strong and dependable, so just settled with calling him your ex. And so he remained your ex Echo, allowing you only the quiet moments of the night to truly mourn him.

What you hadn’t counted on, exactly, was how hard it was to stay dead.

*

Timo was hunched over the bar, sipping some new ale your boss had smuggled in recently when his eyes pointed over to the group of men sitting down nearby. “New bounty hunters?”

You eyed them suspiciously, four men, two with their backs to you. Of the two who faced you, one had the familiar face and stature of a clone trooper, altered only by his shaggy hair and face tattoo, and the other appeared to be his brother, though you hadn’t recalled ever seeing a clone of that size and stature before. You’d seen a trooper or two around here before, but seeing a full squad was surprising. The other two men appeared buried in their work, and your heart ached at the sight of cybernetics on one of the men’s bodies. You looked a little further and your mouth dropped open, eyes shooting back to Timo. “Did they bring a fucking child in here?”

Timo looked over before bringing a hand up to his mouth, stifling a laugh. “I mean, when in Mos Eisley I guess?”

You made to move over there, you rarely got involved in customer’s business, frankly you were convinced that's how you’d survived this long, but a child in the bar was evidently your line. You leaned closer to yell at them when an all too familiar voice broke through the air.

“Right, ‘cuz Cyd’s never given us a reason to distrust her before.”

You knew it was crazy, he was dead and there were quite literally a million other people with that voice, but it was so him. His cadence, his tone, it was all so surreal it had you dropping the glass you were carrying onto the floor, and you dropped to follow it before the troopers turned to look at you. Timo glanced down worriedly at you, and you looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth open. A memory, one forced down in a feat fueled by both pain and survival, fizzled into your brain.

You were both tangled in your bed, your hands dancing around the tufts of black curls you had your fingers threaded through as Echo murmured sweet nothings into your neck.

“Why do you have to leave, why can’t we just run away to Scarif or something?” you murmured, bringing a hand down to cradle his cheek. He leaned to press his lips against your palm.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I know, I’d never really ask you to. You know I’m always here waiting for you.”

He’d smirked, pushing himself off of your chest and placing both strong arms on either side of your head. “You’ve never given me a reason to distrust you before.”

You hadn’t realized how long you’d been down there, or how frozen you must’ve been, because Timo was suddenly disappearing from behind the counter and approaching the troopers. You heard his voice murmur something, and more voices responded, before he dashed back to where you crouched behind the bar. “I got help, these two guys are soldiers or something, they said they can check if you’re hurt-”

“Timo…” you groaned, but your voice was pulled back out of your throat when you looked up into Echo’s wide eyes, filled with a heartbreaking combination of fear, shock, and complete adoration.

“Echo?” you asked, voice barely traveling past a whisper, and his eyes widened again in realization that it really was you. Your name came across his lips so soft it was like a prayer, and his arm reached down over the bar to help you up. You grabbed his hand, still not sure if he was even real, how this was even happening. You glanced at your friend who was staring between the two of you with a concerned curiosity, and to the other goggles wearing trooper who seemed to be making the same expression. “Timo, this is Echo.”

“Ahh, the ex. Nice to meet ya’!” Timo extended his hand to Echo and he shot a look at you.

“The ex?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair and shooting a glare at Echo, “I hardly think that is our biggest issue right now.”

“No, it certainly is not,” goggles trooper stated, looking at the datapad in his hands, “it appears Echo is on the brink of a heart attack.”

“Great, that makes two of us.”

*

It was a short and relatively silent walk to your apartment. Timo had told your manager you had fainted and, given your spotless record, he agreed to give you the rest of the day off. Echo and his squad, and their child soldier, followed you to your house, where you promised they’d be safe and he promised he would talk. It was hard not to stare at him as you walked side by side. He was your Echo, but so much had changed. He was pale and still slightly gaunt, as if the mental scars would never feel. His legs looked to be cybernetic below the mid thigh, and one arm had been replaced by more circuitry and ended in a heavy looking scomp link, not to mention the ports and wiring that wrapped around his head. Above all, he just looked sad. You unconsciously ran a hand through your hair. You didn’t feel much different. 

The walk ended shortly and you approached the house. Echo turned to face his brothers when you started unlocking the door. “Guys, it’s fine we can trust her, she’s my ex.” He had huffed as the group of you walked inside. 

“Well technically I’m your widow but that seems to be a little redundant now doesn’t it?” You nearly chucked your keys onto the small table near the door, and the child soldier, whose name you learned was Omega, burst in infront of them.

“Look at this place! It’s like a real home!” She yelped, and your heart softened at the way he smiled down at her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Maybe this was why Echo hadn’t called, hadn’t reached for you. He had a family now, and it was becoming strikingly clear that it did not include you. You let them all filter into your home, and pointed out the features around you. It wasn’t huge by any means, but it was a good enough space. You had a small living space with a few sofas and chairs you had collected from neighbors and a well-to-do art dealer you’d met at the bar. There was a kitchenette attached, and you had two bedrooms, though one was doing little else other than collect space. You weren’t entirely sure why you had elected to pick the home with two bedrooms, some gnawing hope in your gut that maybe one day you really would have a family. 

“You all can stay as long as you want. I’ve got a spare bedroom, and there’s space to sleep here,” you gestured to the couches around you, “how long will you be on system?”

Echo chimed in, “Three rotations, but we can stay on the ship, really it’s not an issue-”

“Come on Echo, don't be such a downer!” Wrecker is the first to respond, quickly sprawling out on, and dwarfing, the couch closest to the door. “This is the softest couch I’ve ever felt.” His words are enough to spur the interest of Omega and Tech, who both settled on the couch opposite Wrecker. Hunter stayed standing, shooting an apologetic look to his brother. “If it isn’t too much trouble?”

“Not at all, I’d appreciate the company.” You hustle over to the kitchen, pulling out various takeout containers and inspecting each one, placing them on the small counter. “There’s a bunch of leftovers here, don’t know what you’re hungry for but help yourself.” You grab a bottle of wine and a small food container and move closer to Echo, voice dropping to a murmur. “I think you and I ought to have a moment alone.”

He follows you immediately, without even throwing a glance over his shoulder.

The thing you loved about this house was the outdoor space. It wasn’t exactly orthodox, but if you crawled through the window you were able to sit out on the small ledge that gave your back entryway some shadow. It was small and private, due to the small courtyard your house backed up against, and you often left a small candle and a blanket out there to rest after a long day. Now it provided the perfect backdrop to sit with Echo, the chatter inside the house fading to a mumble as you both settled. He was so radiant, even now, eyes looking up at the crimson colored sky. It took everything in you not to reach for his hand right then and there, even though you desperately wanted to. The quiet is deafening, Echo will hardly look at you, and your body is screaming for him, to touch him and make sure he’s still real. This doesn’t feel real, the whole experience. You both quietly sip from your glasses, until one glass turns to two.

It was you who broke the silence first.

"I mourned you, you know." You say, biting with more venom than you intended.

"I'm sorry I hurt you-"

"I was stuck there, stuck in the spot you left me. I couldn't study, couldn't eat. Echo, I missed you."

He has nothing he can say, and you see your words hit their mark. He's hurt you, and he knows it. You sit in the silence for a beat longer and continue.

“I know why you didn’t call me.”

“So you understand?”

“She’s a remarkable little girl, Echo. I don’t know how she came to you, but, I understand. You’ve got a family now.”

“What? Cyare, no-”

“No, I don’t want you to apologize.” You did betray yourself then, placing a hand atop his, “I just want you to know that she seems like she’s worth it.”

“I didn’t call you because you deserve something better.” His voice comes out fast, bitter. He pulls his hand back so fast you gasp at the lack of warmth, even though you haven’t been cold in what feels like millenia since you got to Tatooine. “The day that Rex came to you, I should’ve died. I, I think it would’ve been better.”

Your heart nearly shatters at the admission, and you move closer to him. He doesn’t resist when you put a hand on his cheek, your breath shaking. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m a mess mesh’la. I’m not even whole, I couldn’t see you, couldn’t face you. And my brothers,” his head dips towards the house, “They get me, you know? And we’ve been on the run, honestly, I just figured you’d have found someone else by now.”

You shake your head fast, your tears finally slipping as you watch something, hope perhaps, slip back into Echo’s eyes at your admission. “There’s never been anyone else, there can’t ever be.” You bring your forehead to his, and he closes the gap to press his against yours. “You’re always you, Echo.” You pull backwards, resting on your folded legs. “You’ve got a hand to hold, a face to kiss, your heart to love,” you put a hand on his chest at the admission, and you don’t miss his eyes going glassy, the way he gnaws on his lower lip. “Did you think I wouldn’t love you anymore? That I’m that superficial?”

“It’s not that, you need someone better, someone who can make you happy. What about that guy at the bar, Timmy, Tibo…”

“I don’t want Timo,” you don’t care how pouty you sound now, your face scrunching up, “I want you.”

“You shouldn’t.” It’s an admission that betrays his heart, and his voice cracks as he says it. All you can do is stand and reach for him. He accepts your hand in silence as you hoist him up, long having forgotten about the wine, as you lead him back into your room.

“Sit.” You push his shoulders so he’s seated on your bed, and you walk out of the room. The suns have dipped below the horizon during your conversation, and you want to make sure everyone is settled for the night. Wrecker is fast asleep on the couch, mouth open as he snores with Omega curled into his side. Tech and Hunter are hunched over your kitchen table, though Hunter stands quickly before you get in the room. “I’m locking up for the night, you’re all ok to rest.” You turn to walk away before a voice cuts you off.

“He talked about you. A lot.”

You whip your head around to face Hunter, who is slowly trying to scoop a sleeping Omega into his arms and carry her to the small spare bedroom. He and Tech will figure out who gets the floor or the spare couch. The unspoken implication does not miss you. 

“He used to say he had this girl on Coruscant, that she was so smart but so crazy. That you and his brother would steal drinks from Cody’s boys on nights out.”

You laugh at the memory as the two of you walk down the short hall, but there’s a pang of finality in your gut. Echo would never have left Fives alone.

“He said you were a student,”

“Was.” You smile, and unlock the spare door as Hunter sets Omega down. “Hard to grieve and focus, you know?”

He gives you a knowing smile and a grateful pat on the shoulder before turning back towards the living room, leaving you to go into your bedroom alone.

Echo is sitting on your bed where you’ve left him, but there’s a few things moved from where you’ve left them. An old necklace he got for you on a mission has been pulled from your jewelry box, the perfume you used to wear is on your nightstand. He’s currently pouring over your datapad, and when you sit next to him you see he’s looking at the photogallery.

“Do you remember this?” You ask, pointing to the one he’s currently looking at. You’re both clearly drunk and walking around one of the fairs Coruscant would host in the square. Echo has one arm wrapped in your hair and another dropping low down the skirt of your dress, and you’re both beaming like lovesick children.

“I think about it nearly every day.” He swipes to the next one, he’s at a gala for your university, his ARC trooper armor looking freshly scrubbed while you accept an award. The next, you’re both laying in civvies, watching a flick on the holonet together.

“I am not going to beg for a spot in your life. You have to know you deserve me.” You move the datapad off of his lap and stand up, wedging your body between his knees. “But I am yours, body and soul. I’ve lost you once, but I can’t do it again.” You press a kiss to his forehead, thumbs sweetly caressing the side of his face before you turn to the small chest of drawers in your room. You rifle through them quickly before finding your prize, and hand him the bundles of fabric.

“Are these my blacks?”

“Now they’re my pajamas,” you smile, pulling your dress off over your head and pretending to ignore the way his eyes rake over your body before pulling on a thin shirt, “figured I could share. Let’s go to bed.”

*

You wake up to the movement in your bed when Echo rises, and you let yourself bask in the bliss of the reality you’ve created. Watching through curtained lashes, you watch as he stretches his arms up high overhead, muscles straining taught against his back. You want to reach out and pull him back to bed, want to press yourself against his body, but you don’t. He moves quietly as he clicks his armor together, a task you used to do easily and with the training of a well practiced soldier. You slept together last night, but you didn’t sleep together. You still aren’t sure where you stand, and your chrono is ticking internally. He’s only here for two more days.

“Good morning,” he murmurs when he catches you starring, and you smile back at him, a real and raw one.

“Mornin’” sleep is still dripping from your voice while you stand and make your way to the kitchen as Echo follows. The rest of the squad is idling in the kitchen, having figured out your caf pot. You offer them a small wave and don’t miss the way Tech’s eyebrows climb high on his forehead at the two of you.

“We’ve got a busy day today, Cid has evidently presented us with a number of small jobs here and in Mos Espa. I’ve charted a day that puts us at the most efficient, while also avoiding the most direct sunlight.”

“Thanks, Tech,” Hunter claps his brother on the shoulder before moving over to you. “Do you think you could keep an eye on Omega? I hate to bring her on missions if I don’t have to.”

The pit in your stomach grows, “Is it dangerous?”

“Nah,” it’s Echo’s turn now, and you notice the smile at your worry. “Hunter’s right though, just better to be safe than sorry.”

You shrug, “sure! Just got some errands to run. I’ll let her sleep in as much as I can.”

Hunter gives you a grateful shoulder squeeze and you send the squad your wishes. You reach for Echo’s hand as your fingers dance around one another. “Come back please.”

“Of course.” 

Omega doesn’t rise for a while, which gives you time to warm up some bread and jams and run to the market near your house for a jug of blue milk. You suspect the girl hasn’t had a real home cooked meal in her life, and you’re eager to provide the experience for her. Something pulls hard in your gut, the domesticity of the actions, caring for this little girl and waking up with Echo, that makes you want to cry. This is, essentially, everything you’ve dreamt of for so long, but maker at what cost. You know Echo is hurting, it’s written clear across his face whenever he looks at you, and you can’t imagine the extent of what he’s suffered. You want this, you want him and you want this little life, but the cost it required makes you feel sick.

Omega wakes up not long after breakfast is done, and she rubs her eyes as she walks into the kitchen. “Where is everyone?”

“They left for the mission, but you’re in very good hands, I promise.” You smile, leading her to the table. She beams up at you and at the food you settle onto her plate. “Have you ever had these before?”

“No, Kaminoan food is kinda weird, and we normally just eat snacks and ration bars on the ship.” She cuts into the bread cautiously, and takes her first bite. The grin that overtakes her face is contagious, and she whips her head to you. “This is amazing!”

You come up and ruffle her hair, “I’ll make it for you whenever you like.”

“Thank you.” Her words are so kind, so genuine, that it sends a pang to your chest.

“How long have you been with the batch?”

“I dunno, it’s hard to say. I don’t like counting, I feel like it’ll jinx it.” She shrugs, “but definitely a while. They rescued me. We’re a family now.”

“You certainly are.”

She continues to pick at the food while you go into your quarters to get ready, pulling on clothes and tying your hair back. Mos Eisley isn’t exactly the ideal place for children, but you suspect she’s seen worse. Besides, you’ve got credits burning a hole in your pocket and an insatiable desire to mother this child. You come back out to her cleaning her dish and smile, “How do you feel about a day on the town?”

“Really! We don’t have to just stay here?”

“Something tells me you can handle yourself.”

She beams at being recognized, “You bet! Let me get my bow.”

The market is full of life as usual, and Omega is happily bouncing between stalls, picking up anything and everything that isn’t nailed down. You’re happy to oblige her, and you've got a bag full of dolls, snacks, a shawl, and some drawing supplies. She’s walking a few paces ahead of you, blonde hair bobbing in the sun, and she frequently turns around to make sure you’re close by. It’s rather endearing.

“You know, I used to know another blonde Kaminoan.”

“Is it Captain Rex?” 

You’re surprised she knows the name, and you blink a few times. “Have you met him?”

“Yeah, he came by the cantina on Ord Mantell,” she slows her pace to walk next to you, “he’s old.”

“Yeah he is,” you laugh, thinking fondly of the captain who looked out for you. “He’s an old friend too.”

“Did you know him on Coruscant?”

“I did. He was Echo’s captain in his old squad.”

“Oh yeah, I think he mentioned that. Did you meet him when you and Echo got in love?”

There’s a scuff as you stumble over your feet and you look down at her. “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugs, “I thought you guys were in love. At least, that’s what Echo says. You’re the girl from Coruscant, I saw the holopicture of you two in the hallway.”

Shoot. “I mean, we definitely were-”

“Because I heard Echo tell Hunter he loved you back on the ship not that long ago. They thought I was sleeping, but I wasn’t, and I heard him say he felt sad ‘cause he still loved you. At least, I think it was you. He said she was a student at a fancy school, and she was so smart, so it seems like you. Which is good because now we’re all together again, so Echo won’t be sad, because you love him too, and you’re together!”

“Omega…”

“Besides, I like you, and Echo is nice and gives really good hugs. And I think you’d be perfect together.”

“I wish it was that simple kid,” you lean down to ruffle her hair. “Let’s pick out something good for dinner.”

*

Cooking with Omega is fun, there’s something precious in the way she washes the leafy greens and vegetables while you chop beside her. The holo is on in the background, creating a warm hum of noise that keeps you both company. She’s chatty, eager to tell you about their adventures. You’re pleased to hear that Rex is alive and well, and that they’ve been helping rescue other clones. She talks about their ship, her room they’ve made for her. It’s so endearing, the way she talks about her family. You feel so drawn to it, to her. You want so badly to share in this with Echo. To have him here by your side. There’s a sigh that escapes your chest, of both relief and pain, and for the first since you’ve gotten him back you let yourself completely melt into the ache in your heart of missing him, of having him back. You don’t notice you’re crying until Omega comes up to your side.

“You must’ve really missed him.”

“Yeah Meg, I really did.”

“What was he like when you first met him?”

“He was so confident, but so strict with the rules.”

She scoffs endearingly, “Don’t worry, he’s still like that.”

“He was so clean cut, but so handsome. Always so worried, wanted to be so polite,” you lean down to whisper to her, “One time, when he first started staying at my apartment-”

“At least give me a chance to defend myself, come on!” Echo shouts as he enters the apartment, the rest of the batch in tow. He removes his helmet and he’s smiling, the lasting effects of a blush on his cheeks. The rest of the men follow noisly in, and are quick to remove boots and blasters at the door and start bustling around the kitchen to help finish dinner. You sidle up next to Echo as he finishes putting the meat in the small leafy cups, and the tips of your fingers ghost around his waist for just a moment. He freezes, then melts into your touch almost immediately, letting your hands hang around his midriff.

“Hi,” he murmurs, low enough that even Hunter doesn’t hear, filling Omega in on their mission.

“Was worried about you, Tatooine’s no good.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same thing to you.”

You look up at him with a smirk and remove your hands as you help him distribute plates to the batch. “You got any better suggestions?”

It’s so quiet you nearly miss it, and you suppose he had hoped you would, but still, it carries over to where you stand near Wrecker. “I have a few suggestions.”

It’s not until later that night that you get Echo alone again, when you slip out of the fresher and notice him perched up on your bed in his blacks. He stiffens when you enter the room, conveniently dressed in nothing more than his blacks tops, hanging loosely off your body.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want me back in here.”

You shake your head and slip into bed beside him. “You assumed correctly.”

He grins at you before setting your datapad now. You’re still so attuned to him, you notice the rigid movements in his hips and torso as he twists to set it down, and your hands are on him almost instinctively. 

“Where does it hurt?”

“It’s nothing, just chronic stuff, nothing you need to worry about.”

“Even though you tried to fire me,” you murmur as you coax him to his back and encourage him to flip on his stomach, “I’d argue it is my job to worry about.” You pull yourself up and straddle his back, perching yourself right above his hips. Your hands are quickly underneath his shirt, rubbing soothing circles along his back and shoulders, wrapping down his biceps. You pause for a moment at the spot where the prosthesis begins, and he offers a muffled sound of encouragement when you begin to rub small, gentle circles along the meeting point. Cautiously, you work your hand further south, and the sound of bliss that leaves his mouth when you find the spot where flesh meets metal in the middle of his thighs is all the encouragement you need to keep going.

“You know, the heat here helps the pain.” He tosses over his shoulder, turning his head and propping himself up on his arms to look at you. 

“Maybe you should just stay then, you know. For health reasons.”

“Oh? Would you like that?”

You say nothing, but you can see him pick up the smile, the twinkle in your eye. Instead you roll off of his back and lay down beside him, turning your head to face him. “Omega told me something funny today.”

“Oh yeah? I can’t even imagine.”

“She told me you’ve been telling stories about a girl you left on Coruscant.”

“Really? Didn’t know she’s been hearing all that. What else did she say about this girl?” Even in the low light of your darkened room you can see him starting to blush. 

“She said she was a student at a fancy school, and that you thought she was smarter than you.”

“I remember saying so smart, but, sure, she’s smarter than me.” His fingertips float along your thigh, up your body. He’s so cautious, but getting bolder by the second.

“She told me you still loved her.”

His hand freezes at its spot on your waist, moving from a light touch to a grip, as if he’s afraid this is it. This is the moment you’re gone forever.

“I think she was probably hurt at first, because she missed you and she mourned you. But she could never stay mad at you. She thinks your family is cute.” Your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, pulling him in close to you. “I think she still loves you too.”

There’s a beat where you hear him exhale, it’s shaky and soft, and his words flow quickly afterwards. “Mesh’la, I thought of you everyday. I couldn’t face you, not after what I’d been turned into, after I let you down.”

“Don’t.” Your forehead is against his now, breathing him in close, “Don’t start with that.”

And then you kiss him and it feels like coming home. Like a warm glass of bantha milk and a cookie set aside just for you, or a warm towel after a cold shower. It feels like being wrapped in a blanket of adoration, like this is all you’re meant to be doing forever. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could actually die here as his tongue grazes your bottom lip, and you absolutely blossom into the touch. You feel like the lovesick first year you were when you met Echo in the first place, when the only thing that mattered was passing exams and spending all of Echo’s shore leave tangled in your sheets. 

He pulls back too soon for your liking, though you know in reality you’ve been wrapped up in each other for maker knows how long. There’s a pitiful little whimper that breaks past your lips when he does, and it makes you blush.

“Don’t disappear like that again.” You whisper, and he pulls you into this chest and presses a long kiss to your hairline.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

*

The next morning is, of course, full of goodbyes, and the walk to their docking bay has you fighting tears. You and Echo stayed up all night wrapped up in one another, whispering confessions and plans for the future like you were both nothing more than two lovesick shinies again. You had both decided that you would stay on Tatooine, stay in your life. In turn, the batch planned on paying off their debt to Cid and set up base on Tatooine. Tech had agreed that, logistically, Tatooine made the most sense for those evading the empire, and Wrecker was happy to have the option of sleeping in an actual home. You had given Omega and the batch rations and well wishes, and you stood outside the ramp of the Marauder, hands clasped behind your back as you looked up at Echo.

“Come back soon?”

He moved to catch your lips in a kiss, and you reveled in the slight taste of caf on his mouth from the morning, “Wouldn’t dream of staying away.” He broke away a moment later and moved to stand on the ramp. You waved goodbye as it began to life and he grinned. “And stop calling me your ex!”

[four-color-words]

Bailey Adler - An Intro

((Notice: I wrote this while extremely goddamn sleepy, so if I need to elaborate or make something clearer or whatever, lemme know and I'll try my best after I get some sleep))

So, I try pretty hard to keep this sideblog restricted to canon-only stuff. But if I'm gonna start talking about my silly little fanfic on here, I ought to talk about the oc it centers around

Takeoff is the first arc of Bailey's story, and serves as her origin. The front half of it, I like to imagine, takes place in the background of a Flash comic. The back half of it, which I'm currently writing, is a backup or secondary story. Bailey's theoretical solo wouldn't start until she takes up the Golden Eagle mantle, passed down from Charley.

(fun fact: I came up with her around eight years ago, and she's actually what led me to learning about Charley -- but I decided it would be more fun (and achievable) to try and explain how and why Bales was inheriting a mantle, than trying to come up with a new, unused name for her)

Bailey's a complicated character, and it's hard to summarize all the stuff she's got going on. She's very emotionally-driven, and she wears her big bleeding heart on her sleeve. She doesn't exactly like this about herself, but she's been trying and failing to change this for two decades; it's in her nature. And, really, it's the fact that her emotions do run so deep and strong that leads to her becoming a superhero.

Bailey grew up in a small Oklahoma town, and as far as she's concerned, the less she has to talk about that, the better. She moved to Central City to try and not only start a new life, but to forget her old one. Helping her best friend with the rent was a bonus.

Unfortunately, the past won't let Bailey just walk away. Bailey lands a job at a local museum -- no, not that one -- just in time for a haunted suit of armor, a cold case disappearance, and a whole lot of mystery to cross her path. As secrets start to rise to the surface, Bailey finds her own family history might just be tangled up in this web. And untangling it all might mean facing the parts of her past -- and her relationship with her mother's side of the family -- that she really doesn't want to.

Bailey discovers her great-grandmother, Rachel Faulkner, was born Rashel Tavros, of Thanagar. And while this does explain a few things about Bailey's own life -- in particular, why she's always been stronger and tougher than she wants to admit, and why she's always overestimated other people's vision and hearing -- it also leaves her with a lot of questions, and a sense of duty she can't quite shake. She's forced to acknowledge that she's not a normal human. She has gifts and abilities that set her apart from the rest of the populace. She has power -- and we can all finish the old adage.

But she also made promises to her father and sister that, on some level, she feels like she's breaking if she starts being a superhero. Reconciling that and dealing with the guilt, however, are just things she's going to have to do. She does inherit the Golden Eagle mantle from Charley, though I won't say exactly how or why until after Takeoff's finale gets published. (because otherwise I'm not gonna ever write it)

A lot of Bailey's character and story revolve around the ideas of breaking out of cycles of abuse and neglect, what really defines a family, and a whole lot of stuff I'm struggling to put into words.

But while Bailey has, like, so much angst and emotional turmoil, she's also just a big ol' goober. She talks to random pigeons and sings along to the radio while she does chores. She gives her friends stupid nicknames as a form of affection. She offers the neighbor kid cookies because she baked too many at three am, and then realizes how fucking weird that is as a complete stranger. She flirts with people and then freezes like a deer in the headlights when they flirt back. She spent the first twenty-ish years of her life dreaming of being Space Indianna Jones. She's a history and literature nerd, and she will infodump at you about the similarities between art movements across three different planets.

She's a giant dork, and I love her

[royalarmyofoz]

i have yet to find an allison x patty fic that really hits the spot

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

[yeonjunszn]

— 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

pairing: choi yeonjun x f!reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: angst/fluff/smut

warnings for part three: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, the words sex and fuck are in this chapter like 300 times, yeonjun is actually insufferable, sunyoung best girl!!, gyu x reader moment 🙀, reader has not one but TWO car sexcapades in this part but only one is detailed, semi public sex, car sex, cow girl position yeehaw, pussy job, unprotected sex, pussy drunk yeonjun, creampie, unspoken feelings ig counts as a warning??

summary: after being convinced by your friends to go to a party on campus, you meet choi yeonjun, hybe university’s biggest flirt. a couple years older than you, you learn that he’s actually the president of the host fraternity and there’s a lot more to him than just getting drunk every weekend and breaking girls’ hearts. however, getting to know someone of his caliber so personally always comes with a price, and you’re not sure if it was worth the cost.

— this whole part is just a whirlwind tbh. i don’t really know how i feel about it but whatever

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“i’m convinced that you’re literally lying to me right now. there’s no way in hell you slept with choi yeonjun.”

sunyoung stares at you blankly, her arms crossed and her back resting against your headboard. you were now safely in the comfort of your shared apartment, showered and clothed in pajamas rather than the peach bathing suit from last night. you don’t understand why your statement was so hard to believe. he was a womanizer and you were a woman, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“if you don’t believe me,” you pause, getting up to fish the paper folded in the pocket of your shorts. “then read this.”

she eyes you skeptically before snatching the note from your grasp. she unfolds it slowly, maintaining the eye contact she had with you. you watch as she scans each word like they’re the clues to the world’s biggest unsolved mystery. you already had each curve to each letter engraved in your memory, not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“holy shit. you slept with choi yeonjun.” the brunette gapes. she runs a hand through her hair, handing the paper back to you. for some reason she looks more distressed than you are. “what are you gonna do?”

“i have no idea, sun, i’ve never been in a situation like this before,” you groan, flopping backward onto your mattress. she follows suit and the two of you are now glaring up at your ceiling. “he’s— well obviously you know how hot he is, he’s choi fucking yeonjun. but, i feel something more than just a surface level attraction. and i’ve only met the guy twice.”

“okay so you’re not just thinking with your vagina. you think you might like— like him?” she asks.

“i don’t know. i really should’ve thought this through before i had sex with him.” you can feel the inner turmoil continuing. the past two weekends had resulted in giant headaches, both caused by a certain frat boy.

“from what i’ve heard, he’s bad news, babe. he doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. and the girls he did talk to more than once said he cheated on them. or i guess,” she makes air quotes with her fingers. “‘cheated.’”

“of course this would happen to me the one time i decide to leave the apartment. why did it have to be him? why couldn’t have i been attracted to like sim jake or choi beomgyu? even soobin would’ve been a better choice. you lucked out with hyuka.” you slide your palms down your face, a strong urge to pull at your roots apparent now.

“okay, first of all, hyuka isn’t as big of a loser as you and taehyun act like he is. second of all, sim jake isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so you lucked out with that. third of all, it’s been around that soobin is kinda the same as yeonjun in terms of one night stands, he just isn’t an asshole about it,” sunyoung sits up, resting on her elbows. “and lastly, beomgyu is honestly a pretty cool guy for being a frat boy. the girls he has fucked have only ever said nothing but nice things about him.”

you mimic her actions, furrowing your eyebrows. “nice things like what?”

“he takes them to breakfast the morning after or if it’s during the day, to dinner. he feels it out before he tells them if he’s interested or not. he doesn’t disappear on them. i feel like that’s more than you can ask for from most college guys these days.” she explains, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

you thought maybe it could be a sign that you should throw away the paper with yeonjun’s number. you should sever the ties you’ve made and start anew. choi beomgyu was a very pretty boy and you already had his number saved from the other night because he had the balls to straight up ask for yours.

no no. this had to be a sign.

“you know what, i think i’m gonna text him.” you say, grabbing your phone from your nightstand.

“what? i thought we just established that yeonjun was—”

“not him, you idiot. i’m gonna text beomgyu,” you smack her on the back of her head. “i’ll just ask if he wants to hang out or something. i’ll be vague.”

the brunette visibly perks up, bouncing up and down on your bed like an excited puppy. “fantastic idea! i’m all for it. then you’ll get your insides rearranged by someone who isn’t a dick and you can sleep like a baby.”

you burst into a fit of laughter, shoving her shoulder lightly as you unlock your phone. you open the contacts app and find beomgyu’s, your thumb hovering over the message icon. you were suddenly a lot more nervous than you were initially. you don’t even know why, it was just a simple text.

[12:27] you: hey gyu! it’s me! :)

[12:27] you: i was wondering if you were free tonight

“now we wait.” you sigh, falling backwards again. sunyoung snickers at your anxiousness, flicking you on the forehead.

[12:34] gyu: oh hi!

[12:34] gyu: i was beginning to think you deleted my number haha

[12:35] gyu: and yeah i’m free what’s up?

“he responded,” you slap her arm, gripping it with all of your force. you swallow thickly. “what do i say?”

“give me that—” she snatches the device from your hands before you can even register what she’s doing.

[12:37] you: great!

[12:37] you: there’s this new ice cream place that opened a few blocks away from my apartment

[12:38] you: i’ve been wanting to try it but my friends keep flaking

[12:38] you: do you wanna go with me?

your phone comes flying at you and you struggle to catch it, fumbling with it a couple times. you read over the messages she sent, nodding to yourself. it wasn’t a lie at least, they had been taking way too many rain checks lately. and you really did want to try that ice cream place.

[12:41] gyu: that sounds good to me :)

[12:41] gyu: i can pick you up from your apartment since i know you don’t have your own car

[12:42] gyu: only if that’s okay with you though

[12:43] you: that’s perfectly fine with me :) i’ll send you the address

[12:43] you: see you at 7?

[12:44] gyu: 7 works!

[12:44] gyu: see you at 7 :P

“he’s coming at seven.” you gulp, covering your face. this felt scarier than fooling around with yeonjun. you think it’s because you knew you had a better chance of actually becoming friends with beomgyu, so if things go south, it’s goodbye to that.

“you’ll be fine, hun. you’ve got six hours to calm down until then. i’ll pick out a cute outfit for you and you’ll forget all about choi yeonjun,” sunyoung cheers, shaking your whole body like a maniac. “besides, there’s also a chance you and beomgyu won’t have sex and you just end up having fun. it’s a win win.”

she was right. the only downside was losing a friendship, but the probability of that happening was really low. beomgyu didn’t seem like the type of person who held grudges. he was a social butterfly and loved putting himself out there.

by the time it was 6:30, you already finished getting ready for your date. even though it was the peak of summer, it was always a bit breezier in the evening, so sunyoung chose a white sundress and a light blue cardigan. she left the shoes and everything else up to you, so you decided to wear converse.

when you went out into the living room, you found all three of your friends on the couch watching a movie. sunyoung hollers at your appearance, whistling like a drunk man catcalling on the side of the street. you do a small curtsy and a spin to appease her.

“you look like an innocent church girl about to sneak out to meet her bad boy boyfriend.” she giggles, cuddling into kai’s side. he and taehyun laugh at her joke.

“haha very funny, sun. this isn’t some cliché wattpad trope. i’d have to be innocent and actually go to church for that to be true,” you roll your eyes, smoothing down your dress. you realize why the guys are over at the same moment and pinch the bridge of your nose. “tonight was movie night, wasn’t it? i’m so sorry guys it completely slipped from my mind.”

“you’re okay! i encouraged this anyway,” sunyoung smiles, swatting in your direction. “beomgyu’s gonna flip when he sees how cute you look.”

“wait, beomgyu? i thought you were messing around with yeonjun.” taehyun raises an eyebrow. you feel your face go hot out of sheer embarrassment.

“sunyoung! you told them?!” you exclaim. you kind of really want to rip your hair out again.

“no, i didn’t! i swear! i’d never break girl code like that.” she defends herself with wide eyes.

“yeah, she didn’t, i just assumed. you’re not exactly subtle with the ‘fuck me’ eyes you give each other. i’m glad you’re seeing someone else though. i don’t want you to get hurt.” taehyun says, shifting in his spot on the sofa. good god.

just then, your phone dings, signalling that beomgyu was there. you scratch your neck. “well nothing’s going on with that anymore, so you don’t have to worry. now if you’ll excuse me, my date is here. i’ll see y’all later.”

you wave to them and hurry out of your apartment. you sigh for the umpteenth time that day as you make your way down the stairs of your building. a black ford mustang is parked in the front of it, the driver’s side window rolled down to reveal a smiling beomgyu. the sight instantly lifts your mood.

you jog around the front of the car, opening the passenger door and hopping in. you didn’t peg him to be a car guy, but you weren’t complaining. it was a really nice car. as soon as he hears the click of your seat belt, he’s driving off.

“i’m actually really happy you texted. yeonjun had said he was gonna have over some girl and i’d much rather not be home when he does. my room’s right next to his and the walls aren’t the thickest,” beomgyu snorts. “but i’ve also been wanting to hang out with you since we met.”

was this your life, ‘yeonjun this’ and ‘yeonjun that’? it’s like he’s all you ever hear about now. in the past, you’d only heard his name a few times in passing, but never directly. you had your fingers crossed that that’d change soon, especially because you were talking to beomgyu. it seemed he who shall not be named was living his life exactly the way you knew he would. you weren’t special. no matter how little or how much you hoped you were.

“i didn’t get to speak to you a lot at the party,” you say, rubbing your clammy hands on your thighs. “you looked really good. and i kinda just wanted an excuse to see you.”

you take a moment to rake your eyes over him. his hair is styled the same as the previous night, but was just as attractive. he was wearing some jeans and a t-shirt, black and white air forces on his feet. skater-boy-core as you liked to call it.

“yeah?” he glances at you, prying his eyes from the road ahead of him for a second. you feel like you could sink into the leather seat of his car, crossing your legs. he has one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift. you nod in response, afraid of your voice failing you.

this is what the university experience was supposed to be like, not holed away in your room rewatching netflix rom coms that were so bad they were good. you were out on a sunday evening, with a guy might you add, and you were enjoying yourself. you didn’t need to go to a party every saturday just because you felt obligated to.

you arrive at the ice cream shop not long after, ogling at beomgyu as he parallel parks, turning over his shoulder to reverse. the scene is picturesque, the setting sun in the background looking almost ethereal in comparison to yesterday.

you both get out of the car, but you pause to take a photo prior to going inside. “sorry, the sky is really pretty,” you smile sheepishly. you purse your lips and take a step back. “i want you to be in it. that way everyone can see my view right now.”

he grins, closing his eyes and putting up a peace sign as you snap the picture. you post the picture on your instagram story with the caption ‘he thought the view was pretty but i thought he was prettier’ like a sappy couple would and tag him. he laughs, sharing it on his account. ‘it was actually the other way around but whatever’ is what his read.

he grabs your hand and drags you into the ice cream shop, which is relatively busy for it being a sunday. as you stand in line, you think to yourself how normal this feels. holding hands with choi beomgyu while on a date, waiting to order. who needs choi yeonjun anyways?

“can i get one cookies and cream and—” beomgyu turns to you expectantly. you hadn’t even realized you were at the counter.

“i’ll have the same thing.”

he nods with that dimpled smile of his and whips out his card to pay. you’re about to protest but he just moves you out of the way so the next customer can order. you suppose two ice creams won’t make him go bankrupt. especially since he drives a mustang. he snickers at your pouted lips, booping your nose.

a couple minutes later and you’re walking out of the small shop, getting back into his car. he suggests a spot for you not too far away so you can eat your chilled dessert. you agree and he takes off. you notice that his is starting to melt so you feed it to him while he drives. it’s not much longer until he’s parking at the top of a hill that overlooks the city.

the sun has since set and the stars dotted their dark canvas, the crescent moon claiming center stage. there’s no one else around, just both of you in the comfort of his car. it was positively breathtaking. you give beomgyu his ice cream.

“i didn’t think you were a cookies and cream kinda girl.” he teases, sticking a spoonful of his into his mouth. you giggle.

“i’m not. i’m an ice cream kinda girl. i can’t be tied down, you know.” you joke. he laughs as he scoops up some more, examining it before directing it to you. you part your lips for the spoon, allowing it to breach past. you lap up everything on the cutlery, almost leaving it clean.

“is it weird that i really wanna kiss you?” he asks with a shaky chuckle, his focus trained on your tongue licking around your mouth to make sure there was nothing there. you shake your head, placing your cup on his dashboard.

“it’s not weird at all,” you lean in closer to him. “i wanna do the same.”

“fuck it.”

his own cup is discarded and he’s across the middle console in a second, holding your face as he connects your lips feverishly. you kiss back with just as much aggression, bringing your fingers up to his hair. you scramble into the cramped backseat, letting him hover over you with one hand sneaking under your dress.

who needs choi yeonjun anyways?

your thighs tremble as you slide your underwear back on, snatching your cardigan from the front seat to wipe your sweaty forehead. beomgyu zips up and buttons his jeans, leaning against the headrest as he catches his breath. sunyoung wasn’t lying about you getting your insides rearranged. the guy was packing something serious in those pants.

“you okay?” he asks, noticing the quiver in your legs.

“yeah, i’m good! i just didn’t expect you to be so— uh— so big…” your eyes widen at your own words and you slap a palm over your face. “i am so sorry, i don’t know why that slipped out.”

“no, no, don't be. i’m glad you think so, it really boosts my ego.” he goads, breaking into a fit of laughter at the deadpan you give him. you swat at his chest, which is thankfully clothed now.

after a bit more comfortable conversation, beomgyu drives you home. you had to confess, you actually had a nice night with him and wouldn’t mind doing this another time, with or without the sex. he pulls up to your building and you unbuckle your seat belt.

“i had a lot of fun tonight, gyu. thank you.” you smile.

“me too. can i— can i see you again?” he fiddles with his fingers, tapping them on the steering wheel. you nod enthusiastically.

“i’d like that.”

once he sees you disappear up the stairs, he leaves. when he arrives back at the frat house, he realizes the girl that yeonjun had over is already gone, her car no longer parked down the street. his feet carry him to the front door but before he can open it himself, it’s swinging wide to reveal a very ticked off choi yeonjun.

“what the fuck is your problem?” the ravenette seethes, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

“what the hell are you talking about? move.” beomgyu scrunches up his brows, pushing him out of his way so he could enter the house. he finds his other frat brothers in the kitchen, all five of them adorning concerned faces.

“he— um— he saw your story,” heeseung says, running a hand through his hair. “we didn’t tell him anything, though.”

this is exactly why he wanted to avoid any social media posts, but he couldn’t help himself with you. if he was gonna have the chance, he wanted to show you off to the world.

“wait, you all knew he was going out with her?”  yeonjun asks with a scoff. none of the boys answer him, looking around the room with feigned interest.

“and if they did? so what, you fucked her. she’s not your girlfriend. it’s obvious that she came to her senses and figured out you weren’t good enough for her,” beomgyu snaps, balling up his fists. “you have no right to be mad, you literally had someone over here earlier and made it very loud and fucking clear you didn’t care about her. you’re just pissed because she gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

yeonjun clenches his jaw, walking right out the front door. he doesn’t have anything to retort with, because deep down he knows beomgyu’s right. maybe you did deserve better than him.

but he’d never let himself admit that.

you awake the next morning to the sound of excessive buzzing coming from your phone. you run your eyes tiredly as you sift through your notifications when a couple catch your attention, effectively waking you up fully.

[10:22] cyjun started following you

[10:22] cyjun wants to send you a message

you quickly unlock the app and click on your direct messages. you gulp, reading the dm from the last person you wanted to talk to in the world. you hop out of bed, rushing around your room to get dressed as fast as you can. you hobble into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“hey, are you going somewhere?” sunyoung asks when you emerge from the hallway and bolt for the door. you grit your teeth.

“uh, yeah! i’m— uh— meeting gyu for breakfast.” you lie. she grins widely.

“told you he was better for you.”

you hum and make your escape, poking your head in to say your farewell. “okay gotta go now, bye!” you notice the white bmw parked across from your complex right away. you don’t even know why you were doing this. you’d established that you were gonna keep moving forward with a choi-yeonjun-free college career. it appears that he had other plans, though.

you wince when your brain recognizes the location he takes you to, the same hill beomgyu had parked at last night. just like then, there was no one else and it was practically deserted, just you and him and his car. the ravenette assesses your discomfort, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning back against his door.

“he brought you here yesterday huh? that’s why you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” yeonjun chuckles. his lips are curled into an almost menacing smile. he’s belittling you. and you’re falling for the bait. he motions behind him with his thumb. “bet he fucked you like a whore in his backseat too, right? tell me, sweetheart, was he as good as—”

“what do you want from me, yeonjun?” you bark, fisting the fabric of your sweater out of pure frustration. “in case you forgot, sleeping together once and tons of sexual attraction doesn’t make me belong to you. i can fuck whoever i want. i don’t need your permission and you don’t get to be angry about it, especially not when you’re doing the same thing.”

his face contorts into one of absolute annoyance. “what makes you think i’m angry about you sleeping with beomgyu? i couldn’t care less.”

“you’re not very good at hiding your jealousy. green isn’t your color,” you huff, turning towards your window. “i’m not the type of girl who just lets guys walk all over her. you may have gotten away with it with everyone else, but not with me. i’m not gonna let that shit fly. i know my own self worth. so you can’t just show up and all of a sudden act like you genuinely liked me when i was only ever someone you could conquer.”

for the first time in his life, choi yeonjun is rendered speechless. you were so sure of yourself, a confidence he’s not used to when it comes to the girls he’s always surrounded with. you didn’t worship the ground he walked on. you called him out on his bullshit. and maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you. it was such a drastic change in atmosphere, being the one doing the chasing.

fuck, why hadn’t you kissed him yet? the tension was through the roof.

he lunges toward you, pressing his lips to your own with so much passion that you feel a fire igniting underneath your skin. you gasp, parting from him momentarily as you process what the hell just happened. his eyes are glossed over and his gaze shifts between yours and your mouth.

it takes all but two seconds for you to make up your mind. hook.

you reciprocate his hunger, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. he groans into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. wearing a skirt was a terrible idea, you think to yourself when you feel the growing tent in his pants through the thin material of your underwear.

he nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin of your collar bones. you mewl, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. he hurriedly removes your cardigan, bringing his hands back down to massage up and down your thighs.

“you’re so so gorgeous on top of me like this, sweetheart.” he nearly growls, gripping your hips and bucking upwards to grind into your clothed core. you involuntarily moan at the praise. he grins, reconnecting your mouths sloppily. his thumb snakes its way between the two of you, rubbing tight circles on your clit through your panties, causing you to get mortifyingly wetter.

you can’t take it any longer, squirming around on his lap. he stills you, feeling himself get harder with each wiggle of your hips. you whine, almost digging your nails into his scalp. “please, jun. want you so bad.”

“yeah?” he asks breathlessly, his stomach tightening when you nod desperately. “okay baby, you can have me.” line.

you get rid of your top, bra, and underwear, leaving just your skirt. you aid yeonjun in ripping off his shirt and yanking both his pants and brief down his long legs. the minute all restrictions are gone, you hover over his cock, running the tip along your folds. he hisses at the contact, the wet heat of your cunt intoxicating him.

you finally line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. a voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. at first you stay like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“god, you’re s-so deep, jun,” you cry, resting your forehead against his. he pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling yourself every single time.

“fuck, you’re taking me so well. such a good girl.” yeonjun grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. was it possible to be this pussy drunk?

your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of immediately. he bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly close to him, thrusting up into you. the new angle allows him to find that one spot that has you seeing stars, contributing to the fogginess of your brain.

you practically cradle his head in the crook of your neck, panting and moaning in his ear with every drive of his hips. he sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. you feel the band in your belly teetering on the edge of snapping.

you wanted to be upset. you wanted to stop this before it got too complicated and you wound up hurt. you knew you’d have less stress wondering whether or not he was out with another girl if you were with beomgyu. he treated you like a princess. he didn’t give you whiplash or give you constant migraines.

but there was something about choi yeonjun that kept sweeping you in like a tide. whenever you thought you could move on and create as much distance as you can, he finds his way to you. and you repeat the cycle all over again. sinker.

your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last, shutting his eyes tightly. “c’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his. “wanna cum for you, jun.”

he kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans, and that’s what sends you spiraling, creaming around him. he groans spilling into you and painting your insides milky white with every ounce he has to offer.

he doesn’t pull out right away, cuddling you like you’d vanish into thin air. a line had been crossed and you didn’t know what either of you were gonna do about it but you don’t get much time to ponder it, your phone vibrating in the passenger seat. you take that as your cue to get off of his lap and put your clothes on. you slip your arms through the sleeves of your cardigan after everything else, checking whatever made the device go off.

[11:56] gyu: hey! sorry i haven’t texted something weird happened when i got home

[11:56] gyu: i really did have an awesome time with you last night though

[11:56] gyu: do you think i can cash in my second date already?

holy shit. you were fucked.

© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[novamirmirsblog]

Mission gone right

Hi guysss. This is 18+ ty :3

Word count: 1596

Genre: Smut, kinda dark? R is bad basically

Request: no

Warnings: Wanda sex magic, swearing, alcohol (think that's it)

A/N: we got votes for both angst and smut so I kinda combined both? I feel like this isn't angsty enough so imma write something super angsty next. Then I'll go back and do some more spidey duo xxx

"What to do, what to do, what to do..." You paced back and forth around your living room. "Ugh!" throwing your hands up in the air, you flopped down on the sofa, leaving your legs dangling over the arm. Switching on the TV, you saw that there was a new display at an art gallery. You looked around your walls and saw nothing as pretty as the painting on the TV.

"I guess one more couldn't hurt..."

The TV then changed to show that the Avengers were making a special appearance considering Tony Stark owned the gallery and it was it's opening night.

With newfound determination, you got dressed in a red dress with a neckline that dropped all the way to just above your navel and a slit that went all the way up to the middle of your left thigh. The dress gave you the freedom to move but still looked like it was just something pretty to wear. You grabbed your clutch (because god forbid a woman has pockets) and headed out.

~~~~~

Soft music played as people with more money than sense wandered around the gallery. Women wore pearls loosely and men had watches just begging to be taken. You had to focus. You were there for one reason and one reason only. The oil painting apparently cost millions. You didn't really care about that - it was a nice touch, sure - but not the reason you wanted it. You told yourself it was because it was a pretty picture but maybe it was more to do with the fact a pretty mindreader was going to be there tonight.

So far, you had done well to avoid the guards and cameras. You had stolen from this place a few times before and you knew that they rarely changed their security because you had cameras on them. You had seen a few of 'Earth's mightiest heroes' and had tried to ignore the disappointment you felt when it wasn't Wanda.

It's not like the two of you had history, but you were at HYDRA when the twins were too. You were a failed experiment. Your powers were useful, but not useful enough. They also took a little time to form. Time that Strucker didn't want to waste. You, Wanda and Pietro spent about a year together before they went to the 'good side' and you delved deeper into what your powers could do for you. You'd think that HYDRA would love the fact you could convince people of anything and erase all traces that you had ever been somewhere, but apparently they weren't looking for spies, they had enough of those.

You strolled around until you made it to the bathroom, waiting there for the rest of the evening. You had everything planned, walk up to the picture, take it from it's frame and leave out the front door. Everything was going according to plan until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey! What are you doing there!" You opened your mouth to speak but you were grabbed and dragged round the corner and into a storage room.

It was Wanda.

"What the hell are you doing here!" Wanda whisper shouted as guards jogged past our hiding place.

"Same as you apparently." You realised Wanda hadn't noticed how close the two of you were, cupoards were very small...

"You just fucked up my night out."

"Sorry darling, at least my night is going splendidly." You winked and leaned in closer, watching as the anger transformed to lust on her face.

You were taller than Wanda by maybe half a head so she had to look up at you as she tried to formulate a reason to get out of there. Technically, she didn't even have to be there. She could walk out right now and the guards wouldn't even bat an eye and yet something was making her stay.

You moved slightly and Wanda groaned ever so faintly. It was so quiet that you would have missed it if you hadn't been so close to her. You then realised that your leg was conveniently placed between Wanda's, and what can you say? The storage cupboard was small. It wasn't your fault.

Okay, it was maybe a little bit your fault.

"Oh darling, has no one been taking care of you?" You mocked, leaning in and whispering over the shell of her ear "Want me to take care of that?"

Wanda froze even more. Her mind was racing so fast that there was no possible way for her to read yours even though she was desperate to do so. She hadn't seen you in forever but when she glanced over when Tony was telling her a particularly boring story, she couldn't help but gasp at how beautiful you were. Wanda had hoped that you were just there to admire the art work but she knew, deep down, that that would be too good to be true.

"Cat got your tongue?" You were unaware of the turmoil you caused for Wanda. Too focused on your own fun and the way her suit hugged her in all the right places. You wanted nothing more than to fuck her there and then. You didn't want a meaningful relationship with Wanda, just something physical. The two of you were occasional fuck buddies when you were both at HYDRA - the relationship turning slightly toxic very quickly.

You both liked to see how quickly one could get the other jealous. Whether that meant flirting with other people and making sure the other one saw, or just outright sleeping with whoever was nearest. While it seemed that Wanda had grown out of that toxicity, finding love with a glorified Alexa, you never had.

"Why save me darling? I can handle myself."

"You were two seconds from being caught" It was a little disheartening to hear her accent slipping, the last little piece that reminded you of the Wanda she used to be.

"No. No I wasn't." you lifted her chin up and spoke into her neck "I don't need you to save me."

Wanda let out another groan, much louder this time as her hips bucked on your thigh.

"Shhh" You chuckled lowly "We don't want anyone to hear you, right?"

You grabbed her hips and kissed her. It was rough and fast. Wanda whimpered and began grinding harder, trying to get more friction. One hand traced lightly on Wanda's thigh and the other tugged at her waistband. Wanda got rid of them instantly with her magic and you slipped your hand into her panties.

"Shit sweetheart, your toaster not giving you the satisfaction you need?"

"I don't want to think about him" Wanda let out with a slight growl, her accent getting heavier again, like how it was when you knew her.

"Sweetheart when I'm done with you, you wont think of anything else for months."

"God you're a cocky bitch. You're all talk and no action."

"No?" You pushed two fingers into her. You weren't feeling nice enough to start off slow and she was wet enough for it anyway.

Wanda's back arched as she let out a moan and you kissed her chest, her blazer falling open to reveal an extremely unbuttoned shirt. She tried to push your hand further, desperately chasing her release but you pulled away, taking your hand and licking your fingers, watching as Wanda gulped.

"Please..."

"But darling, I think the guards are gone." You smirked as the witch basically threw a temper tantrum.

"So? I haven't felt this good in so long" Wanda shoved her own hand back to where yours was. It was strangely extremely hot to see her try and get back to her high. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at you. You could see the red wisps surrounding you before you nearly doubled over, looking up at Wanda who wore an evil smile.

"Now you know how I feel. Are you going to get back to it?" Wanda had never done this before. When you had known her, she had little to no control over her powers, only being able to control things with her mind and read others thoughts. She had been practicing.

"Fuck you."

"Well yes, that's what I'm trying to get you to do."

You dropped to your knees and took the rest of her underwear off, slowly licking her as she swung a leg over your shoulder. "Shit y/n, just like that."

You worked your fingers in and out of her, feeling everything you were doing to her on yourself thanks to her magic. You got slightly sloppy as you both neared your climaxes. You suck and bit along her thigh and on her clit until you felt her clench around your fingers. You both saw stars as her magic continued to fuck you, drawing out your orgasms until you were both sweaty messes.

~~~~~

You never did get the painting that night. You didn't really get anything you wanted that night. You sat on the top of your building, one leg swinging and a bottle of something strong in your hand, just watching the city buzz at night. As you sat there watching the tiny people come home from their jobs to their loving families, you wondered if you could have had something like that with Wanda. Then you laughed as you remembered that she was probably wrapped up in the arms of Siri, taking another swig from the bottle, you got up and prepared for your next job.

[hex-obsession]

Silver Lining - Two

word count- 2,259

content warning- language, angst, indirect s**cidal thought

____________________________________________

Crows cawing, your eyes open just enough to hazily make out the all too familiar color of your room.

“Early bird gets the worm, you know,” a familiar voice murmurs. Pushing off the wall to your right, your body slides diagonally over your bed, your head dangling off the side. Upside down, Cheryl is slumped against your door frame, arms and legs crossed. Brazen as usual, just the way you loved her. You held your own in most regards but Cheryl was always there when you least expected it and needed her most. You swear there were a halo atop that adorable shaggy blonde head of hers. And not one of those tacky event items either.

“Like I’d get anything any time of day with all the birds around here.” A tickling squeeze builds in your abdomen, branching up your neck to your cheeks which now had a telling pink glow.

“So you gonna talk to old lover boy yet or what?”

You jolt forward and whip around fast enough to make any killer miss a swing. Your response is unnecessary as she’s already smirking devilishly, aware of what she’s doing. She might have been your closest friend but that did not stop her from tormenting you, or anyone else that crossed her path. All in good fun and love, of course. It went without saying that you enjoyed it and she knew when it was, rarely, time to pack it up.

Raising her eyebrows, she leans back and throws her hands up. “I’m just saying, if you don’t, you might lose your chance. That’s all I’m saying,” quieter now.

You sighed. She was right. You weren’t the only one who took a liking to Leon. But, unlike you, Yun-Jin did not hide her feelings, from anyone for any reason, ever. Of course, everyone thought he was charismatic and most, undeniably handsome. That was common knowledge. You ran out of things to talk about in a place like this, and secrets were few and far between. There was no reason to hide here. This was your foreseeable future, together. There was no getting out, no changing things. Being open and sharing everything together made your day to day bearable. The connections you lost in your old lives left gaping holes, but together as one tightly knit, weird, fucked up family, you helped fill the voids. Some took longer than others to accept that fate, and there were some inevitable hiccups, but everyone came around eventually.

Anyone who wasn’t blind could see the attraction Yun-Jin had for the newest addition to your group. Placing her hands on him in conversation whenever she got the chance, laughing a little too hard at the things he said, biting her bottom lip and smiling at him when he talked. You’d even caught her pecking his cheek playfully here and there. He’d always smile and look away, as if it were a game. Leon always had a sultry attitude to him, a ladies' man no doubt. Subtly flirting with everyone was just commonplace for him. That was part of the reason you held back. Fearing you missed your chance and someone else had filled the role you longed to be in. Maybe it was your fear of rejection or abandonment, or not wanting to lose something this important in a world as cruel and bare this. You were subconsciously working hard to convince him you were only a friend. Which you were, definitely friends. Close even, given the circumstances. Trauma bonding does one hell of a number to the timeline of friendship. Still, you sensed zero difference in his behavior toward you versus the others. Which, admittedly, was quite the letdown. Nonetheless, you had nothing to lose by casually admitting your feelings for him. Keep it light and airy and there would be no reason for things to change on the chance he didn’t feel the same. After all, you surely weren’t the only one with a harmless little crush. That’s all it was. Right? So what if you constantly day-dream about him holding you so close he might consume you, kissing you with four times the passion the Notebook tried to capture, never leaving your side regardless of what the future held. His taste, his smell… what his cock would feel like ramming into your cervix. Your brain was one giant knot, constantly distracting you and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it. Except tell him, but keep it simple.

By your calculations, it was November 18th. You’d been keeping track, not sure if it made things better or worse. Your third anniversary in this place was not far off. Despite being a literal nightmare, it had its perks. Your need for food was no more, as well as your other bodily needs. Sickness was a quickly forgotten annoyance of the past. You stayed in this eerily perfect state. Makeup never crusty, hair never oily and always smelling of your favorite fruit. The dirt and blood you’d acquire during trials magically disappeared upon return. You had a handful of outfits to rotate but there was no real need. Another upside, there were no severe temperatures here. Jackets, shorts, sandals, snow boots if you were Nea. You were always mostly comfortable. Even on Ormond where snow blanketed the ground, those gusts of wind should have sent chills right through you, but they didn’t. It felt like living in a dream or a, simulation. Just, where you’re hunted all day and night for the rest of your existence. At least death wasn’t permanent. Sometimes you’d wish it was, just to escape.

Several months have passed since Leon and Jill were introduced to your world. You had inside jokes and more close calls than you could both count. You were a damn good team and got along smoother than melted butter. What were you waiting for? You inhaled sharply and broke your stare out the window.

“I’m gonna do it.”

To no avail, your deep breaths failed to remedy the painful pounding in your chest, or the heat radiating from your face. Nevertheless, you marched out to the campfire to seek out Yun-Jin. As selfish as you wanted to be with Leon, she was your friend, and you held that in high regard. She was easy to spot in a crowd given her loud attire, but wasn’t around the fire. Which lead to your next realization; neither was Leon. Your throat tightened, heart still pounding. You set off a little too quickly to find her, or them. First stop was Ace’s shack. Judging based on appearances, you figured he would be one of the last people she associated with. Quite the opposite, they were dear friends. Not connected at the hip per se, like her and Claudette, but they related to one another's childhoods. Trauma bonding, can't beat it. To your dismay, the shack was empty, a seed of despair planting in your stomach. Maintaining the most convincing composure you could, you continue your search. Heading left down the line of shacks, robust laughter grows closer. You’d know that laugh anywhere. Cutting through the row, David and Felix are reclined under a tree. They were one of the few monogamous couples among you. The others being Nancy and Steve, and Adam and Zarina. You understood the allure of being romantically involved with more than one person, especially given your less-than-ideal situation, but it wasn’t for you.

“Hi y/n!” Felix shouted toward you.

Not wanting to stop and chat given your current objective, you flashed a cheeky smile and waved to them. Before they could get another word out, you dipped back behind the row of houses. Nerves getting the best of you, you parted your lips to breathe through your mouth. Every breath burned your lungs, realizing now all the times you brushed off your feelings have come back to haunt you. You should never have waited this long. At this point you would be more than willing, desperate, to share Leon. Refusing to let your anxiety get the best of you, you ball your fists and dig your nails into your palms to get a grip on yourself. There was one more place they could possibly be. A sliver of premature acceptance wedged itself into your train of thought as you trudged toward your own shack. Leon’s was adjacent to yours. Feeling foolish for not checking earlier, you round the corner to the opening. As much as you wish you could close your eyes, they were pinned open with anticipation. Looking up from your feet you were shocked to see an empty room before you. Relief and confusion replace your foreboding. Too much time had already been wasted, so you return to the campfire.

“Hey, have you seen Leon or Yun-Jin anywhere?” you, as calmly as possible, ask Élodie.

“They got pulled a little bit ago babe.” She was intently focused on Jane, her concentration not broken. “Which do you like more, up or down?” her gaze still fixated on Jane.

You have to either keep the courage you finally mustered until they get back or give yourself emotional whiplash by releasing until they do. You hesitate for a moment, but to hide your disappointment you quickly retort, “Up, definitely up. Gotta distract the killer with that beautiful face you know?”

“Like they're looking at her face and not that dumptruck ass!” Élodie howls. Jane facetiously puts her fingertips to her chin and looks upward, a façade of innocence no one here would ever buy. You can't help but giggle despite your inner turmoil.

“Well hey,” you add through chuckles, “when they're back can you please send her my way?”

“Sure thing babe,” Élodie assures, finally turning to meet your gaze.

A horrible nauseating mix of dismal, relieving, lewd thoughts of Leon swirl in your mind as you wait for Yun-Jin to step into the doorway. You knew you liked him but holy shit, where did this come from? The realization slapped you in the face. Try to blame infatuation all you want, not that you did, but it was so painfully evident now you were dumbfounded.

A soft knock jerked you out of your thoughts. “Hiya y/n, what's going on?”

Her delicate eyes effortlessly comforted you from across the room.

“I...” your eyes now glued to the floor beneath your feet, a reservoir of tears barely being held back, “I need to know how you feel about Leon.” Your nerves went haywire just uttering his name to her. An icy splash of chills surged from your head to your feet as your chest panged with dread.

“Well of course I like him,” her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

All that could escape your mouth was, “Oh.” Emptiness, despair replacing the jealous unease you felt before. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, feelings that danced around menacingly finally coming to a head.

At the sight of your distress, she rushed to sit next to you. “Honey, what’s going on?” her voice barely above a whisper.

You were ashamed for breaking down in front of her, afraid of guilting her for something that was not her fault, and now terrified Leon might follow her here, only to find you undone over him. You jerk your head up to face her and blurt out, “Jinny I think I love him,” face sopping wet with untouched tears.

She raises her eyebrows and smiles at you. “Honey I have fun toying with him all in good nature but there’s no connection there.” Your heart thuds against your ribcage. “Sure, I’ll admit he’s attractive, who wouldn’t, but I have nowhere near the same feelings for him that you evidently do.” She uses both hands to cup your face and pushes as much wetness as she can aside with her thumbs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Not only to me but to him!” Despite being similar in age, she feels like a mother to you. Caring for a child, your own or not, will do that to you. That’s not a trait you lose over time.

“I’m so afraid,” you softly whimper, “of what he would say, what you would say.” You're picking at your cuticles, a habit you acquired during puberty as an outlet for your overwhelming feelings.

She wraps her arms around you, carefully as to not tarnish her jacket with tears, which would definitely stain the material. “I was just having a little fun, and from what I’ve gathered, he was more so allowing it than participating. You know I love you all to death but I’m not looking for anything like that, definitely not here.” She gives you a squeeze, and suddenly you can breathe again, the air around you no longer dense and difficult to swallow. “Honey, go get him.”

“Oh Jesus, let me fix myself a little first at least,” the sudden relief causing you to laugh involuntarily.

You were grateful disease and ailments didn’t exist outside of the trials, if they had you're sure you would've had an aneurysm from the stress you went through in a matter of an hour. Yun-Jin left you to your thoughts, which were now solely you and Leon together, doing anything and everything you could think of. The rest of the day you contemplated telling him, more so, how to. Thankfully you didn’t have any trials together, you were far too disorganized for that right now. “Tomorrow,” you promise yourself. Nothing like a clear head and a night’s rest to help you be your most collected, confident self.

____________________________________________

Silver Lining masterlist

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 4

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter devastation. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Word count- 2,211

Warnings- Smut, swearing, angst, cheating

18+ Only!!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 29th June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

>The Destructive Secret Masterlist<

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, silence so acute you could hear a pin drop. Liam waiting for an answer, Chris looking at his feet and you looking visibly anxious. Chris had drank way too much and now he was about to let all of your secrets loose. This isn't the way you want Liam to find out, surely Chris wouldn't be so cruel.

"I suppose you're not gonna tell me who it is?" 

"Not just yet, see how we go." He looked at you, if he so much as even looked slightly smug you would have slapped him right across his face. Instead you could see the hurt in his eyes, tears welling in the corners. You're both faced with an impossible dilemma, Chris wants you all to himself but doesn't want to lose his brother in the process and you want it all over and done with but don't want to hurt Liam. The latter of both is inevitable but you would take all the blame just so Chris didn't have to lose his brother, given the choice you would lose them both just so that didn't happen.

"Well on that note, I need to go to bed. I've gotta be up early in the morning." You avoid Chris' gaze, you're angry with him but you don't want to cause him more pain. 

"Yeah me too. I better get going. Thank you for dinner Y/N, it was lovely."

You risk a short glance at him, you're eyes softening when they meet. The moment broken when Liam speaks, reminding you where you are and who you're with right at this moment in time.

"Are you for real? You're really going to drop a bombshell like that and then leave? Fuck man." Liam runs his hand through his hair, letting air out of his cheeks exasperatedly.

"Sorry bro, I'll save the excitement for another night. I've said too much already." Chris apologises with his eyes as he passes you, his hands twitching by his side's with the need to touch you.

                             ******************

The next morning when you wake, your heart sinks knowing all the turmoil you're going to have to go through just to make it to the hotel without being spotted. All the messing about and hiding you have to do, checking in under a false name at different times. Making sure nobody follows you to the hotel and especially no one follows Chris. Getting caught checking into the same hotel would be dreadful, it wouldn't take a genius for the press to put two and two together, they wouldn't even care if it was true or not as long as they sold copies.

"Right babe, I'm ready to go." You pull your suitcase towards the door, stopping to wrap your arms around Liam.

"Have a good time, I'll see you soon." Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting your feet from the ground in a squeezy hug. "I'll miss you." 

"I'll miss you too, bye babe." 

"Bye. Love you. Let me know when you get checked in." He kisses you goodbye before watching you leave.

"Will do, Love you." You say over your shoulder, climbing into your silver, Audi convertible.

This is the part you hate the most, the part that made you question whether it was all worth it. It was, of course or you wouldn't be doing it, you wouldn't put yourself through having to pretend to be somebody else and praying your not caught by anyone. It only takes one person to notice you and Chris in the same hotel and it's over. You imagine having an affair is hard work whatever your circumstances but when your boyfriend and your lover are as famous as they are it becomes impossible. It's terrifying. 

You spent the car journey constantly checking your mirrors and making sure you weren't being followed. A huge sunhat and even bigger sunglasses covering your face as your heart beated faster than you thought was possible. A couple of laps around the hotel, making doubly sure you weren't being followed before you finally pulled into the carpark.

You had to constantly think, you couldn't let your guard drop for even a moment and it was exhausting. You were ready for it to be over and done with now, this just isn't fun anymore. Maybe you could run away together and start a new life somewhere else. Which one would you pick though? Who are you ready to give up? Would there even be an option to choose? Would Liam even be willing to forgive you if he knew you were sleeping with his brother? In love with his brother.

Your heart beating out of your chest, your fight or flight well and truly kicking in now as you walk up to the front desk. If there's any recognition in the receptionists eyes you're ready to turn right around and leave. The girl behind the desk, with long blonde hair has her eyes on the computer In front of her, thankfully not paying you much attention as you stand and wait for her to finish.

"Hi I'd like to book a room for two nights please." You stutter nervously, subconsciously checking over your shoulder while you spoke.

"Of course, is it just for yourself?" 

"Yes please, I'm just here for a work conference. I'd like a double bed if possible though, I haven't been able to sleep in a single since I was young." You giggle nervously, embarrassed that you'd told her information she isn't even slightly interested in.

"No problem, I'll see what I have for you." Her eyes barely left her computer as she spoke, she definitely didn't recognise you. The tension in your muscles relaxed a little as your eyes scanned the lobby.

"What name is it please?" She asked, one of the moments you'd been dreading. You hate lying but luckily you'd already come up with the fake name you were using, one you'd already used many times before in the exact same situation. It never gets any easier.

"Jessica Crawley." The names tumbled from your lips, names that had absolutely no meaning to you. 

"Room 101, floor 5. Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"No thank you, that's great." The overwhelming feeling of relief at completing step one without any problems, rushes over you. Adrenaline spiking, making your legs feel like jelly.

"You're welcome, enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions." The girl says, smiling sweetly at you before going back to her work.

The elevator seemed to take forever to make its way down to you, your feet shuffling as you watched the numbers above the door, counting down. The overwhelming need to get to privacy and away from the many prying eyes of the people in the lobby was severe. Most were business men and women, that were so consumed in themselves they weren't paying special attention to anyone around them. There were also young couples, making their way through the lobby, probably on their way for lunch but the people that worried you the most were the random loners sat in the armchairs scattered around the lobby. They'd chosen the perfect place to watch, some pretending to read newspapers while their eyes discreetly scanned over the top.

They were much more inquisitive, much like yourself they paid more attention to the people around them. People watchers you liked to call them, these are the sorts of people that make you nervous. They see everything, noticing any minor details, you'd spent a lifetime perfecting 'people watching' which is how you knew to be wary. You could pretty much judge a person's personality just by watching them for a couple of minutes. If anyone was to spot you it would be one of these people. You felt thankful you weren't Chris, there is absolutely no way he was going to make it to the elevator without being seen at least once.

                             *******************

Chris didn't feel quite as nervous as you, this was a every day occurance in his life, avoiding paparazzi was near impossible for him. As long as you weren't seen going in to the hotel then it wouldn't matter about him being seen. Still, he'd worn his baseball cap and sunglasses to at least try and hide his identity. He wasn't nervous about being seen but more about having to face you after his fuck up last night. Now that thought was way more intimidating to him.

Casually strolling into the hotel, he tried to ignore the whispers of the people around him. People questioning if it was really him, young girls barely out of high school giggling at the sight of him. Chris quietly prayed that he would make it up to the room without anyone asking for a photo, not that he usually minded but today all he wanted was to spend every possible minute with you as he could.

The receptionist tried to make a fuss when his identity was confirmed during check in. The pale skin of the same blonde girl who'd checked you in, had turned a rather bright shade of red when she heard Chris' sexy Australian accent. You wouldn't blame her, it still makes you swoon whenever you heard him speak.

"I'm fine honestly, I don't want any special treatment. Actually if I could get away with going completely unnoticed during my stay, I will speak to your boss myself and tell them how accomodating you'd been." 

"Oh wow, really? Thank you so much Mr Hemsworth. I will make sure nobody bothers you and if you need anything at all just give me a call, I'll make sure you won't have to leave your room for anything." Chris smiled, pretending not to notice how she seemed to be flirting with him, badly. Tossing her hair over shoulder as she insinuated not so subtly for him to let her know if he wanted any 'special' treatment. Again, you don't blame the girl, infact you would've commended her confidence.

She handed over the keys to the penthouse, watching bright eyed as he walked to the elevator, pulling out his phone as he stepped straight in. 

"Hi babe, I've booked the penthouse suite, meet me up there?" Smiling a tight lipped smile at the girl behind the desk, who was still watching him intently as the elevator doors closed.

"Ok, it isn't very inconspicuous staying in the penthouse is it?" You shouldn't be surprised, he does it everytime. You remember the first time you ever saw a penthouse and how amazed you were that it was actually bigger than your own home at the time. That was a memory you shared with Liam, all of your first times had been with Liam, the thought made your heart sink.

"I mean they knew who I was as soon as I walked in, I think it would look more suspicious if I didn't stay in a suite." Chris answered, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I suppose that's true, I'll be up soon." You could hear the sadness in your voice, something you had to snap out of before meeting Chris.

"Good because I can't wait to get my hands on you." 

Sinking back onto the spongey mattress of your bed, tiredness washing over you already. The mental exhaustion of constantly having to play games and be on your guard at all times, catching up to you as you're finally alone.

Maybe that's what you need afterall, a chance to be alone to gather your thoughts, to workout your own needs and wants without spreading your attention between the two brothers.

You make a mental list of the pros and cons of both of them knowing deep down if Liam were the one for you, you'd have never have looked twice at Chris. They were so similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others.

Liam was the sweetest man you knew, so gentle and caring, attentive to your every whim and being so young when you first got together he was everything you were looking for.

Now being a woman that has gone through so much trauma in her life that had tainted your soul, darkened it with a lust for more.

Then Chris came along, he was still sweet and caring but less attentive to your needs unless it was in the bedroom. He was cheeky and funny, drop dead gorgeous and oozing manliness effortlessly. He was fire and passion. He was more. 

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined Chris only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.                    

[softboywriting]

Don’t Go | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: One difficult boss, one contraband cat, and a whole lot of emotional turmoil. That’s your life these days. When you leave for a few months to get things settled back home before moving into the facility officially, Nathan doesn’t cope with your absence well. Upon your return you have to deal with Nathan being moodier than ever, hiding your cat Baxter in your room, and sorting out just what your relationship with Nathan is. [Light Angst] [Swearing] [Insecurity] [Daddy Kink if you squint] [Fluff] [No use of Y/N] [Sexual/Flirting Situations] [F!ReaderxNathan] [Assistant!Reader] 

Word Count: 5.2k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Four months. You're gone from Nathan's facility for four months while sorting out fully moving to Alaska with him, closing your leased apartment, and finding a home for your cat. Everything was squared away finally. All of your furniture and non personal items were sold and you were ready to move into his place in the middle of nowhere. Of course you couldn't find a home for Baxter, your cat, and you refused to put him up for adoption, so he was coming with you. 

Nathan didn't want a cat he explicitly said don't bring him but here you are in the helicopter with your bags and totes full of what you have left of your old life, and strapped in the back is Baxter in his tan cat carrier. You had to get special medication to help him stay calm but it was worth it. Surely Nathan won't kick him out once you've snuck him in. You'll just keep him in your room. 

You never see Nathan. He didn't help you carry everything in, he never saw Baxter, he didn't even leave a message. It's not until after you've unpacked the essentials and gotten Baxter settled into the bedroom that Nathan calls to you on the intercom system. 

"Meet me on the deck."

You jump, startled by the sudden break in silence. You slip out the door quickly to keep Baxter inside and head for the outdoor deck where the punching bag is hung. You round the corner of the kitchen and stop dead, eyes on the man on the deck, back to you. 

"Nathan?" You call out, walking forward carefully. It can't be. This man has hair. Quite a bit actually. But it looks like Nathan from the back. That is surely his ass. 

Nathan turns around and oh, it's definitely him. He looks so different without the buzzcut, he looks softer, sweeter. "About time you came back."

"Did I miss a day of work?" You roll your eyes. He may look softer but that snippy attitude was ever prominent. "Don't act like you missed me."

"You worked? I barely noticed." He quips, stepping down and unwrapping his hands.

You fold your arms. "So you just remembered to go shopping for groceries, to get your hand wraps, and to get the mineral water from the specialty place on your own? You just remembered that you had to eat every day? You don't need an assistant?"

"I'm an adult. Of course I can do all of that without you."

"So you definitely didn't use those alarms and reminders I set?"

He scoffs.

"Oh no, you did." You click your tongue. "Because they're linked to my tasks app and every time you shut one off I got a notification. And look!" You gesture to him. "You're not starved to death or bloody knuckled from training with no wraps!" 

Nathan rolls his eyes. 

"No come back?" 

"Fuck off." He sneers, grabbing his glasses off the table. 

You walk around the table and run a hand over his hair. "What's this?"

"Hair?" He pushes your hand away. 

"You've never had hair. Ever." You shove your hand back into his hair. It's short, but long enough you can grip the top. Curly, thick, dark. It's beautiful. It must grow like a weed, and with his genetics, you're not surprised it's this long in only four months. "Why now?" 

Nathan growls, shoving you back away from him gently. "Quit touching it!" 

"Then answer my questions!" 

"Fuck you!" 

"Fuck you too, Nathan!"

He narrows his eyes at you, glaring daggers. This is how it always is with him. Constant fighting about stupid shit because he doesn't know how to express himself around another human being eighty percent of the time. You're sure it's why he hired you, so he didn't go feral out here on his own. The other twenty percent of the time he is bearable and you actually really like that twenty percent. 

You let out a soft sigh and relax your shoulders. Yelling at each other isn't going to get you anywhere right now. You'll take the initiative and soothe the room. "Did your clippers break?" 

"Yeah." He grumbles, no longer looking at you, but to the bar behind the dining table. 

"And you didn't buy a new one when you went for groceries?" 

"I didn't go."

"What?" 

"I didn't go for groceries."

You close the gap and step in front of his line of sight. "Nathan, what have you been surviving on?"

"What was left. I've got some MREs in the office for emergencies. Well, I did." He runs a hand through his hair and turns away. "I'm fine. I'm alive, obviously." 

"So you just dismissed my alarms? Why didn't you go? I know the flight is a pain in the ass but it's better than starving. Is there nothing left?"

He walks out of the room, toward the kitchen. 

"Nathan!" You groan and let out a yell of frustration. If he ate everything and didn't replenish anything, then you're going to have to call the pilot back tomorrow and ride another two hours into the city, go shopping, then ride two hours back. 

"Fuck!"

_____________________

After a grueling day of travel and shopping you start making dinner. You've not seen hide or hair of Nathan since you found out he's been barely living for the last four months. You can't fathom why he wouldn't go out, why he wouldn't even get you to bring him something. Sure you were in Seattle for the time you were gone but you probably could have managed to get on a plane and bring him some protein bars. It just kills you, knowing he just let himself suffer. But why? To prove a point? What was it?

"Dinner is almost ready." You say, pressing the talk button on the kitchen com system. He probably isn't listening but it's worth a try. The man must be desperate for a real meal. 

As soon as you get everything plated, on the table and glasses of wine poured, Nathan appears. You can only assume he watched you on the cameras, so he knew exactly when to show up. He is always checking in on you with those cameras. It was alarming at first, when you arrived about a year ago now. But these days it's alright, a sense of security, knowing that if something were to happen he would be there in a heartbeat. 

"Steak, spinach salad with bleu cheese, and a potato." You say softly, presenting the food like a gameshow host with your hand as he sits down. 

"I can see what it is."

"Mmhmm." You stuff a fork full of spinach in your mouth. "Can you see the poison then?"

A small smile plays at the corners of his lips and you don't miss it for a millisecond. "Must be tucked into the cheese crumbles."

You grin around the rim of your wine glass. "Soaked the steak in it actually." 

"Clever." He mutters dully, biting a piece of said steak off his fork. 

You eat a few more bites in silence, just staring awkwardly at each other. You have so many questions about what he was doing while you were gone. But you know he won't answer them, not now at least. He will have to be exhausted or perhaps less sober. That actually is another question. Has he been sober for all this time? Or did he ration his alcohol?

"Good food?" 

"Fucking amazing." He says, voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He rubs his last bite of meat around in the bleu cheese. "You can cook like no other."

You feel a flush rise in your chest. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." 

"Don't get used to it." 

"Oh I won't." 

Nathan stands and takes his plate to the kitchen. "Did you get my shaver?" 

"Yes." You follow close behind and drop your plate in the sink beside his. "But I like it." 

"What?" 

"Your hair. I like it." You lean against the counter and he runs a hand over his head. "It looks... different."

Nathan rolls his eyes. 

"It's up to you, obviously. I'm sure you keep it shaved for whatever reason." You shrug and look away from him. "The shaver is in your bathroom."

"Thanks." He mutters and heads off into the house. He's going to the lab no doubt. 

_____________________

Finally two weeks later. Nathan is wasted. Gobsmacked, shit faced and three sheets to the wind. You got an allegory for it, that is this man right this second. Your chance is now, you can get his ass on the spot and start interrogating him. Well. That is if you can get him out of his lab. 

"Nathan, I have something for you." You coo softly into the com beside the door to his lab. "Something you'll like."

"Go away."

"Come on!" 

"Unless you're out there in some red panties and stockings then I'm not coming out."

You flush and close your eyes. He did not just say that. Surely he cannot mean that he actually wants to see you like that. God that's hot. Does he really want to see you like that? No. He's your boss. 

"What if I am?" 

"You're not."

"I could be."

"You aren't. Fuck off."

"You wanna see me all undressed hmm?" 

Nathan groans and opens the door, glaring you down. "You lied. Fuck off."

"No, I never said I was out here undressed. But now I have you." You shove your way into the lab office and plop down on his sofa. "You're not gonna get rid of me." 

Nathan stands at the door and sways on his feet. He seemingly is perplexed how you managed to overcome him and slip into his space. "You're a pain the ass."

"Mmm and you're a thorn in my side." You lay back on the sofa, and prop your legs up on the armrest. "C'mere, I wanna talk." 

"You wanna talk? What do I look like? One of your gal pals?" 

"Maybe with a little mascara, some eight inch pumps...yeah."

"I'll give you eight inches alright." He sinks into his desk chair and grabs a bottle from the desk to press to his lips. "What do you want?" 

You sit up and brace your elbows on your knees. "I want to know why you didn't leave here in four months."

"I didn't need to." 

"Nathan, you were living on MRE rations like a bunker crazed maniac. You barely called me, and when you did it sounded like you were doing fine. What happened?" 

"You left."

"Yeah?" You chuckle softly. "I had to settle things back home. I told you that, you knew where I went." 

Nathan takes his glasses off and sets them aside. "I think...I think I rabbit holed into my insecurities and loneliness."

You raise your eyebrows. This is going deeper than you imagined it would. "Okay. How so?" 

He tips the bottle up against his lips. "I thought, well maybe you wouldn't come back. Why would you? You got out, I let you go willingly. I felt like I just deserved to suffer alone." He shakes his head. 

"Nathan, why didn't you tell me this sooner?" 

"And make me look like a desperate fucking idiot? How would that look? Desperate lonely billionaire misses assistant so much he begs her to come back." 

"So you did miss me."

"Fuck." He rubs his palm into his eye and lets out a yell of frustration. "You're the only person I've had proper physical contact with in like three years, I've gotten attached to you, and you just don't even understand how messed up I am!"

You stand and walk over to him. "Nathan, do you have feelings for me?" 

He stares up at you, and sets his bottle aside. It's sloshes, mostly empty. "Don't play with me."

"No one's playing."

"You hate me. I'm so mean to you, and I yell at you and piss you off everyday."

You chuckle softly. "Oh yeah, that's all true. But when you're not being difficult, that's when you're incredible. You're so hot and cold I should have run away but somehow I still wanted to come home."

"Home?"

"Yeah." You run your hand over his hair and his head slumps forward. He hasn't shaved it off. It's been a few days. "You're insufferable but I can't get enough. I love how you talk, how you think, how you are always making sure I'm comfortable and happy even if you think I don't notice. I love how you look at me, glancing to make sure I'm still there, to make sure I'm real. I know how you need me."

"Don't want you to leave." He mutters, eyes heavy. 

"I'm not leaving." You kneel down, arms across his lap and he looks at you, hand going to your cheek.

He strokes his thumb over your lower lip. "Be my good girl."

"Nathan," you whisper and your heart threatens to explode and you're flushing, heat pooling between your legs. "You're really out of it."

He smiles lopsidedly, pressing his thumb between your lips and you open your mouth automatically. 

You lick the pad of his thumb and give a quick suck before pulling back and standing up. "You're way too drunk." 

"Come back here."

"I'm going to bed." You lick your lip, the taste of his thumb is salty. If he weren't wasted you would consider exploring this further. You've wondered if there would be more between the two of you. It felt natural. But he's your boss. This is your job and as much as you would like to be more with Nathan you know this has to end here. He's not a relationship guy. 

Nathan pushes up from his chair and slumps over onto the couch. God he's fucking gone. He won't even remember this in the morning. It's for the best. 

"Good night." 

_____________________

You make your way to Nathan's room with a bottle of water, two Tylenol and a banana. He's going to be so hungover it's not funny. You hadn't realized how much he was drinking until you found the empty bottle of vodka in the kitchen trash can and the rest of a small bottle of whiskey in the office trash and you had only bought both just the other day. Not to mention all the beers he sucked down while in the lab, a good six of the eight pack. Oh boy is he going to be hurting. 

"Nathan, hey," you call softly, sinking down beside him on his bed. "It's almost noon."

"Lea'me 'lone." He grumbles into his pillow, wrapping his arms around it tightly. 

You run a hand up his back, settling between his shoulder blades. "I brought water and a snack." 

He turns his head, face smushed into the pillows as he looks at you. "What happened last night?" 

"You got very drunk and drank literally everything we had. I'm not sure how you're alive." 

"Did I do anything?" 

"Nothing I wouldn't expect of you." 

He shoots you a leery glare. "The fuck's that mean?" 

You shake your head. He doesn't need to know he started spilling his guts and coming on to you more than playfully. "Nothing. You were a dick."

"I'm always a dick sweetheart. I told you that when you started."

"You did." You rub his shoulder and he groans. "Come on, get up. Have your banana, pills and water. Get a shower. You've got a video call in an hour."

"Oh fuck off." He presses his face into the pillows. "Attend for me. I want to sleep."

"It needs to be you. It's an HR meeting about hiring new staff to run diagnostics on Blue Book backlog data."

Nathan grumbles unintelligibly. 

"I'll make your favorite lunch." 

"Mm'not hungry."

"I'll join you in the shower." 

He pushes up fast, nearly knocking the Tylenol from your hand. "No take backs." 

"Nathan! I'm not actually going to shower with you! You're my boss for God's sake. I just said it for shock value to get you to roll your hungover ass out of bed. Shit."

"Yeah but no take backs." He grins and swallows back the pills you hand him. "Come on, it's not like you haven't seen me naked."

"Uh no, I most certainly have not."

"Oh yeah you have." He smirks, eyes holding yours in a challenging gaze. "You liked it too."

"What?!" You shove him and stand up, throwing the banana at his lap. "Eat your snack and get your shit together. I'm going to take a hike." 

Nathan rips his banana top off to peel it and takes a bite. "You're not gonna set up the meeting stuff?" 

"You just turn on your webcam when they call, Nathan."

"What if I need help?" He says teasingly. "You're my assistant after all."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Would you like me to wait until they call? You want me to stand beside your desk and click the button to answer with a video camera on? Is that it?" 

"You could sit on my lap." He pats his legs. "Keep it nice and warm for me."

You twist your face quickly into an expression of distaste before a flush begins to heat your skin. This is just Nathan. He isn't flirting. He's being an asshole to get a reaction from you. He's like a child. Don't reward bad behavior. 

"Oh you're thinking about it." He murmurs, voice dropping lower than usual. It's almost sultry. You've not heard this tone but maybe once before. "You wanna fuck your boss don't you?"

"Absolutely not." You grip the side of the door a little harsher than you mean to. Just another step and you're out of the room. Away from his eyes. Fuck. His eyes. What is that look for? It's so...commanding. 

Nathan presses the door closed and you lean against it. "You're a horrible liar."

"You're projecting."

"Am I? Or were you on your knees in front of me last night?" He raises his eyebrows. "Oh you think I don't remember? That's cute."

"You know that isn't what happened." 

"I know you let me put my thumb in your mouth. I know you licked it, sucked it, willingly." He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You really want me don't you?" 

You narrow your eyes. "Maybe I want you, but I have morals. You're my boss, I'm not going to just fuck you for no reason and I intend on keeping it that way."

Nathan drops his hand from your face. "You'll come around. You can be my employee and still fuck me. I'll allow it."

"Yeah, whatever." You pull the door open and he steps back. "Go shower. You've wasted enough time."

_____________________

 Days later you go for a supply run and come home late in the afternoon. As you haul the bags from the cart you use to get them from the helicopter to the front door you see Baxter on the sofa in the living room. He's curled up, the fireplace is on, he's living his best life. Wait. Baxter. No. 

"Bax what are you doing in here?!" You set the bags down and hurry to the fireplace to snatch the little gray cat up from his warm nap spot. "How did you-"

"You're back." Nathan says sleepily from the couch. He sits up and runs a hand through his hair. God it looks so good, it's gotten longer you swear and fuck the curls are just maddening. "You wanna tell me something?" 

"I'm sorry. I couldn't leave him with anyone and he is like my child. I couldn't just abandon him." You cradle Baxter against your chest. "I'll leave, if I have to. You can fire me."

Nathan chuckles softly. "Fire you? For having a cat?" 

"You said he couldn't come with me. You specifically said no pets under any circumstances."

"Yeah, but maybe I can make an exception for this guy." 

You set Baxter down as he begins to squirm. He hurries over to Nathan and winds around his legs. 

"Come here." Nathan pats his lap. "Come see daddy." 

Baxter jumps up and curls up on Nathan's lap, head butting his hand for attention. It's the most bizarre thing. Baxter has never taken a liking to anyone this fast. It's as if he's been living with Nathan for weeks. 

"He never likes people like this. What did you do to him?" 

Nathan strokes his hand down Baxter's back and massages his ears. "I didn't do anything. I gave him affection."

"How did you find him?" 

"He's loud." Nathan laughs, looking at you with a soft smile. "You were on a walk in the woods and I heard him crying one day-"

"Wait what? You've known about him before today?"

"Yes." He gives you a look that says you're not fooling anyone. "I've been seeing him for days now. Almost two weeks."

You groan and press your back against the fireplace. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted you to tell me. I wanted to see how long you thought you could lie to me."

"I didn't lie. I never said he wasn't here."

"Very true."

"So he was meowing? That's how you found him?" 

"Mmhmm." Nathan chuckles again. "You must have forgotten to feed him before your walk. Because as soon as I gave him food he was happy."

"Fuck. I probably did." You sigh and laugh softly at yourself. "I'm terrible at hiding things."

"Yes you are." His eyes catch yours and you glare at him. "What's the look for? You jealous?" He pats his leg where Baxter isn't stretched out. "You wanna sit on Daddy's lap too?"

You cover your face with your hand. "For fucks sake you're a freak. No, I would not like to sit. I'd like help with these groceries." You point to the long forgotten bags by the door. 

Nathan peeks over the back of the couch. 

"Come on," you shoo Baxter off his lap and as you turn away to go get the bags, Nathan pulls you backwards down onto his legs. "Nathan."

He chuckles deeply against your back. "What?"

"I'm not sitting on your lap."

"Mmm, yes you are." 

"Nathan," you sigh softly and stand up just long enough to turn around and straddle his legs, facing him on the couch. It stuns him silent for a second as he stares up at you in bewilderment. "This what you want?"

He grins big, hands running up your thighs. "Just remember that you escalated this, not me."

"I just sat down."

"Oh no sweetheart, you sat down with a purpose." He pulls you flush against him. "I thought you had morals."

"I do." You lean in and his lips part instinctively. "I haven't done anything against them."

Nathan grips your ass and you collapse against him, foreheads together. "You're pushing it."

"I just wanna see you weak, Bateman."

He narrows his eyes and shoves you off his lap. "Little late for that." He mutters as he retreats into the house and you climb up off the floor. If he thinks you're not going to push him to admit he wants you more than sex then he has something else coming. 

_____________________

Two days later you're making breakfast and out of the corner of your eye you see Nathan walk in. You pay no mind. It's not unusual that he comes and grabs a water or a cup of tea before breakfast. You turn, plates in hand to put the eggs on and the moment you see Nathan you drop them. 

He shaved. Holy fucking shit he shaved his beard very close and his hair is still grown out. He doesn't have his glasses on and who...who the fuck is this? How does one person literally shapeshift? 

"Oh fuck, are you okay?" Nathan looks down at the shattered plates. "What happened?" 

"What- you! What happened?!" You gesture wildly to his face. "Who are you?!" 

He laughs, straight up laughs at you. "Is it that bad?"

"Bad? I wouldn't call it bad." You run a hand over your hair and look around for a tea towel to pick the glass up with safely. "It's not bad." You can't help but continuously glance at him. 

Nathan grabs a large bowl from the cabinet on his side of the kitchen and you both kneel down to clean up the glass. "You like it." 

"It's different."

"Good different."

"Yeah." You sit back on your heels and take another good look. "I almost couldn't believe it was you." 

Nathan drops the last piece of glass into the bowl and brushes his hands off on his sweater. "It's been a while since I went this short. Ten years maybe."

"Damn."

He smiles and it's like he's a different man. You cannot stop staring. It's all familiar, like if you were seeing his brother, or maybe twin. It's the same teeth, same turn of his lips, but that beard being nearly gone makes him so...fucking attractive. Not that he wasn't attractive before, you dug the buzzcut and beard combo, you dug the beard and grown out hair combo. But this is...this is hard.

"Hey, your eggs are burning." 

"What! Fuck!" You scramble to your feet and sure enough the sunny side up eggs are hard yolked and brown around the edges. 

Nathan dumps the bowl of glass in the trash and places the bowl in the sink. "Let me make something."

"I- what? You?"

"Yeah." He wraps his hand around yours on the pan handle and moves it back off of the burner. "I can cook y'know. I did it a lot before you moved in."

You step back and let him carry the pan to the trash. "Is it April fool's day?" 

"No? It's November." 

"You're being nice to me."

"Am I?" 

"Yes?" You fold your arms across your chest. "Suspiciously nice."

Nathan turns and quirks one eyebrow up. "Suspiciously nice? I don't think I'm being suspiciously nice. Maybe...considerate."

"Not a word I would associate with you either." 

"Well, I can just have a power bar and get out of your way if you like." He folds his arms, mimicking your pose. 

You chew on your lip. "Are you okay? Seriously, you've never offered to cook and you've managed to not insult me for a solid ten minutes. You even helped me clean up the glass. You're not...you."

"I had a good night's sleep."

"So you've been a dick because you haven't slept properly since I met you?" 

"Maybe." 

"Maybe? Okay y'know what." You raise your hands and let out a little laugh. "I get it. You are trying to get me to sleep with you. You have been for weeks and I can't just sleep with someone without being in a relationship. You've changed your appearance, knowing I'd like it. You're being nice, acting like you're some normal guy as if you think I'm into that. You just want to get in my pants so bad that-" 

"Or maybe I am trying to be a better person because I realized I'm going to run you out of my life if I keep being the way I am." He runs a hand over his hair and tugs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come on so strong."

You're floored. He's left you speechless. Never has he said he's sorry, for anything. 

"You don't have to say anything. It's fine. I understand that I'm a lot to handle. You have been so patient, and understanding in this last year, and you go toe to toe with me and you don't stand for my shit, so I think you must have been put in my life to force me to make a change. I've been trying to get in your pants, yes, but I don't just want that. I want you." 

"Oh."

"I've been thinking about this since you left, and even since you came back. It's consumed me for the last five months and I-" He bites his lip and looks away from you. "I'm in love with you."

Your eyes widen. "You....Nathan..."

"It's fine, I understand if you don't love me. I've been awful and selfish and-" 

"You're really in love with me?"

"I don't waste words, you know that." 

You step forward and reach out to touch his cheek. The beard is so short, still there, but not bushy in the least. "I love you too. Even if you're a pain in the ass and a little egotistical." 

"So I don't have to be disgustingly nice?"

"I didn't fall for disgustingly nice Nathan."

"Thank fuckin God." He grabs your hips and pulls you against him. "Felt like I was playing house." 

You giggle and he groans. "Nathan."

"I love your laugh." He grips your hair and tilts your head back, kissing your throat. "I love how you say my name." 

A little moan escapes your lips as he scrapes his teeth along your neck. "Hey, easy, relationship first and sex later."

"Mmm. What do you want sweetheart? A date? Gifts? Long walks in the moonlight?" He leans back and looks at you. "I've got a proposal for you."

"What's that?" 

"Be my girlfriend. No, be my wife." He bites his lip and cradles your face. "Yeah, you'd be a damn good wife."

You raise your eyebrows. "Not sure I like the implications of that." 

"You don't like the implication that you'll be the richest woman in this country, own half of Blue Book, have everything you could ever want, and be a goddess to a god?" 

"A goddess to a god huh?" 

He smiles and presses his head against yours. "That's right. Besides, we already have a kid." 

"We do?"

"Mmhmm. Baxter. I'm his daddy and he knows it."

"Oh hell. Shut up." You roll your eyes. 

"I'm your daddy too." He hauls you against him, hands on your ass. "You like it, admit it."

"No!" 

"Yeah you do." He kisses across your jaw and down your neck. "It's okay, it's just us you can admit it." His tongue lavishes against your sensitive pulse point. "Come on, tell me you like it."

"Nathan," you moan softly and he rolls his hips against you. "Please."

"Just say it." 

"Never."

He chuckles and pulls back, leaving your neck damp and aching. "I'll get it out of you. I know you wanna say it but you're too shy." He bumps his nose against yours and your head swims "I will bide my time."

"Yeah, a long time." You press your lips to his and he hums softly. "I'll think about your proposal."

He chases your lips as you pull back. "I'll be waiting."

"Relationship first." You run a hand over his hair and push him back. "Gotta show me you truly want more than what's in my pants." 

"Absolutely." He pushes his sleeves up. "I'll be the best husband." 

"Let's stick to boyfriend for now."

"Husband sounds better." He grabs a clean pan from the rack over the stove. "So, breakfast?" 

You hop up on the counter and watch as he moves about easily. "I'll take whatever you got."

"I've got a lot." He smirks and you roll your eyes. "But let's start with breakfast."

"Yeah, let's."

End 

-----------

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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read or enjoyed and support content creators like myself - A

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[oftenderweapons]

Can you write a drabble about jealous taehyung with lace? Ty 🥺

So... I had to brainstorm with my dear mate abt this one since we never really saw Taehyung as someone who could be openly jealous or would even consider the feeling, since we see him as a confident person, and even more than that, we think that he and Lace are very open about trust and loyalty. We think that both of them would be happy with introducing a third party in the bedroom — not on a regular basis though. Lace is a sucker for Taehyung — and Taehyung alone; he knows it, and he also knows that he has a beautiful girlfriend who is bound to attract people’s attention and make them believe that they can flirt with her. Still, Lace gives the cold shoulder to anyone but her man.

HOWEVER

We found out a potential loophole.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Lace)

Wordcount: 1.5k (sorry, I got carried away)

Genre: angst/smut/fluff

Rating: 18+

TRIGGER WARNINGS: uhm, there are dirty thoughts in the middle (mild) and smut at the end (mention of oral male receiving, female receiving, rough penetration, biting). Possessive!Tae. Takes place a few weeks after Love Talk and mentions a few events in Illicit Affairs (which should — hopefully — come out soon).

As you walked down the long corridor of the small gallery, Taehyung tried not to notice — or better, not to care about — the young artist waiting by the door, walking several steps behind you.

Taehyung’s hand twitched before he shoved it in his pocket. He wanted to touch you.

Having that... that vulture staring at you... It made his stomach sour.

Maybe it was because this was your first date after having you all to himself, after knowing how you taste and how you moan, how your breasts flush when you’re about to cum, how good it feels to grip your hips while you ride him, to feel his fingers sink in the flesh of your ass.

He took his hands out of his pockets and joined them behind his back, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to calm down.

You stopped in front of a picture, observing it for a moment. It was a hyper-realistic painting of a watermelon sculpted into a cube, placed there in the middle of the white canvas. It was truly the game of a virtuoso.

“Impressive.” You said, before turning toward the man about a metre or two away. “How long did it take?” You asked nicely, still impressed by the amount of details: the seeds, the small veins, the grainy texture of the watermelon.

“About three months.” He replied. “I had started it as a still life, but I changed my mind and redid it with a more... Surrealistic approach.” He explained.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his annoyance at bait, licking his lip before biting it. “Good job.” He said, trying to be grateful even though he wanted to rip the man’s eyes away from his skull.

The only thing holding him back was that he didn’t know how you would react to that. And if you would ever love his fingers as much after seeing him perform such a crude act.

You smiled at the artist and took a few steps to the next painting, this time a basket of cherries — only barely visible from behind a lace curtain. It was alarmingly realistic, truly breathtaking in the amount of precision poured into every small thread making the see-through effect. “Wow.” You commented under your breath.

Taehyung thought about how different his style was from these pictures. Sure, they were very good and they showed great talent, but that didn’t mean that he would want one in his own house.

“I was in Greece when I made that one.” The artist explained. “Beautiful country. Have you ever been there?” He asked.

You turned, making your light summer gown twirl in the motion, exposing more of your calves and the soft skin of the inner side of the knee as the slit parted, the plump, soft flesh of your thigh still protected by the row of small buttons that ran from your belly button to your knees.

Taehyung thought you were too beautiful for this universe. Nevertheless, as he stared at you and the artist there, right in front of his face, he felt actually menaced, for the first time. Something ugly slithered around his chest, tightening and tightening as your calm, composed voice said: “No, I’ve never been to Greece. I’ve only ever visited Jeju once, and I’ve travelled to Japan a couple times but normally I don’t get the chance to travel much.” You explained, blushing.

He would take you all around the world, Taehyung thought. He would spend Christmas with you in the Alps and make love to you in Amsterdam for your birthday, and of course, he would take you to Greece, feed you grapes and cherries and damn watermelon too. He would have you in white, light clothes and take pictures of you standing by the sea, your bright, flowy skirts contrasting with the deep blue of the sea — like the one he saw in Malta. He would rent a small house away from anyone and watch you sunbathe naked, with no one interrupting him as he drew you again, and again and again, until his hand could draw you with his eyes closed. He would leave the windows always open, the long white curtains flowing in the breeze as he would wake up from his afternoon nap and wrap his naked body around yours, kissing you and rubbing against you until you were nothing but two bodies melting into each other, like an embrace could naturally slide into passionate lovemaking. He couldn’t even think about nights. Nights were something he was too weak to think about.

Lost in his musings, he didn’t even realise your visit had come to an end, the gallery empty just like it had been when you had arrived, booked for a private visit for Taehyung and you alone, for safety and viewing pleasure.

“Thank you for visiting,” the artist said, bowing to Taehyung.

“Thank you for guiding us,” Taehyung replied. “I’ll let you know if I find any of the pictures fit.”

“Of course.” The artist said, kindly.

Taehyung nodded and was ready to leave the moment he heard the artist speak again. “Excuse me, miss, I’d like to ask... I’ve been working on portraits for my new collection, and I would be extremely pleased if you would pose for me.” He said. “I don’t usually... I usually book professional models but I thought someone with your looks could be really interesting to portray.” He explained. “I can leave you... Uhm.” He rummaged in his pocket and offered you a small piece of paper. His business card. Stealing a pen from the entry table, he wrote something on it. “I’d be honoured.” He commented, offering you the card.

You raised your eyebrows and smiled. “Thank you. I can already tell you I don’t think I’ll accept.” You looked at the floor. “I don’t have much spare time and I’m a bit too uncomfortable when people stare at me.” You chuckled embarrassedly. “Plus, I don’t think my boyfriend would be very happy with it.” You said, giving him a hint.

Taehyung was furious, still he kept all his inner turmoil to himself. Until you reached the car. The moment you sat at his side on the passenger’s seat, he started the car and began driving silently.

“Are you upset?” You asked, looking at him, keeping all the enthusiasm about the exhibition to yourself. You were more than capable to divide the artist from the person behind it. He was talented, maybe a bit sleazy as a person — and a bit too flirty — but still, talented. Plus, Taehyung hadn’t made it clear that he was with you as your boyfriend.

Taehyung tutted. “No.” He replied.

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” You could feel his mood poison the air in the car like dark waves of black oil covering the surface of the sea. It reminded you of a scene from Howl’s Moving Castle, when the young, beautiful wizard gets depressed and all his house starts getting covered in green slime.

“I’m okay.”

Catching his free hand, you placed it on your thigh pulling it toward the inner side.

He couldn’t resist, his thumb immediately drawing slow, lazy circles on the smooth, tender skin.

You noticed him taking the route to his apartment. “Aren’t we going out for dinner?”

“Mh.” He noted, counting the minutes until he could claim you all to himself.

“Do I need to un-book?” You asked with a mischievous grin.

He looked at you, his mouth forming a slow, insecure smile before he nodded in reply.

The rest of the night is a fuzzy memory of his mouth hungry and his hands grabby on the lift on your way up to his apartment, the shape of him hard in your palm as you entered the door, your attempt at offering him a blowjob, already lowering yourself to one knee before he pulled you up.

“That’s generous of you but I need inside.” He growled as he walked the both of you to his bedroom.

You didn’t even remember anything of him undressing you, it was all a whirlwind of limbs until you found yourself with your legs spread open and his mouth on your clit, his fingers stretching you before he stood on his knees and grabbed a condom.

You remembered his groan as he slid inside, your walls welcoming him with their tight embrace. “Dammit Lace, love this pussy.” He spoke through gritted teeth, your hands landing on his butt and pulling him toward you, inside you, harder, faster. “That’s my pussy.” He said, ramming in. “All mine.” He said, slowing down only to get the right angle. “My girlfriend.” He said, biting your breast, and giving the most precise jabs to your g-spot, suckling your tit, tugging at it, stretching it with his mouth before letting it fall back heavy to your chest. “My nymph. All mine. Mine.” He said again, your body too tense for speaking. Your high reached you as his fingers started toying with your bundle of nerves, rubbing it furiously until both you and him were nothing but two desperate beasts fucking each other.

“I love you.” He said, as soon as he was back to planet Earth, his body heavy on top of yours, his cheek glued to your chest with a mix of drool and sweat. “Love you, my precious dove.” He said again, rubbing the outside of your leg. “My love.” He repeated as you patted his head and reassured him yourself.

“Only yours.”

[btsmakesmehappy]

Sweet Scent | 2

Genre: Agent au. Colleague au. Mutual pining. Angst. Fluff. a little thriller.

Pairing: Agent!Jungkook x Forensic Doctor!reader

Word Count: 5,6k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Shy boy Jungkook. A lot of flirting and teasing. Mention of death (murder case). Threats using human organ (Not explicit)

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |  completed

Summary: Why does he always look so nervous in front of you? Is it because of your excessive flirting? But how come you don’t tease him when he looks so incredibly cute every time he blushes?

Series Masterlist: The Company

A/N: wew, It took me longer to write this. Thankyou @arizonapoppy​ for cheering me up and beta reading this story. and again: this writer doesn’t know how agents work.

Send me an ask if you want to be added in the taglist!

The smell of coffee sneaks into your nose, waking you up. You open your eyes slowly, stealing a glance at your watch on your wrist. 8.13 am.

Immediately you sit up on the mattress, stretching your body. You blink as you realize Jungkook is standing in front of the coffee machine with his back to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” you ask groggily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. It’s so weird how your throat feels so dry when you only sleep for an hour.

Jungkook turns away from the machine and walks over to you, handing you a cup of hot coffee. “I did, fifteen minutes ago. But you didn’t even move a bit. You were literally sleeping like a log there.”

You hum as you drink the coffee. It’s weird how the coffee is perfectly to your taste, but that’s not important right now. “So what do you need again? I told you that I’ll call you as soon as I get the lab results, right? I swear, if you want that right now, I am gonna-”

“No. That’s not what I want right now.” He walks to your desk and sits on the chair, facing you. The nervousness can be seen in his doe eyes. “I think we also need to check the victim’s belongings again.”

You sigh and take a big gulp of coffee. “Fine, but let me finish checking the specimens first. I am afraid they will be damaged if I don’t work fast.”

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth perk up. “Thank you. That’s fine.”

You rise from the mattress and walk over to him, putting one of your hands on your hips. “You are asking this much and I only got a hamburger?” you pout.

Jungkook’s eyes wander anxiously, avoiding your eyes. He lets out an awkward laugh as he sips his coffee. “What do you want then? Pizza?”

“What about dinner? Preferably date-style?”

Your suggestion makes him choke in his coffee. A faint blush painted on his cheeks. “Wh-what?” his coffee drips from his chin to his shirt, leaving a trace of black liquid on the blue shirt. You are almost sure that it will leave a stain.

The panic he showed seems like a rejection to you and it somehow leaves a sting in your chest. You reach his shoulder and pat it lightly. “Just kidding; I am okay with that hamburger. And well, this is my job also.” You laugh awkwardly as you grab your lab coat. “So let’s get to work then.” You walk to the lab beside your office as you tie your hair into a bun.  

Jungkook watches your receding back as he takes a deep breath. Your scent is still lingering in the room, the scent of lavender mixed with something musky. Relaxing and intoxicating. He always wonders what makes you smell like that, how unique it is that he can notice it with just a small whiff. How your scent is so you.

The scent that makes his hands turn clammy. The scent that makes his heart beat faster. The scent that always takes his breath away.

Thankfully for him, you didn’t ask him any further. Never occurred in his mind to go on a date with you. Just the thought of him being with you in the same room has already bothered him so much, he can barely think. If only he would admit that deep down he wants to go on a date with you. And just like that, gratitude turns into regret.

You let out another sigh as you massage your sore neck. The smell of substances fills the lab, all mixed together, making you nauseous. And the lack of sleep doesn’t help either. “Do you remember anything from the crime scene? Anything could help.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “You can’t find anything?” he asks. Jungkook lets you work by yourself as he watches you from afar. Not because he wants to stay as far as possible from you and the conflicted feelings you give him, or because he’s already felt comfortable sitting at your desk, but he doesn’t understand any of it and he doesn’t want to disturb you. True to be told, he loves seeing you working.

You shake your head weakly. Maybe it is because of your lack of sleep, your brain is not functioning well. You silently regret your decision for doing this alone. This is literally going nowhere.

“Good morning, guys!” A man dressed in what seem to be plaid pajamas enters your lab suddenly. “Geez, Y/N! Could your face be anymore tired?” His smile plastered on his face, in contrast with your own face.

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off, Tae.” It’s one of Taehyung’s traits that you dislike, how his bubbly exterior just somehow gets on your nerves, especially in times like this. Not that you hate him. Hell no. He’s an amazing friend. He might be the first agent that you’ve become friends with, but only God knows why whenever you’re with him, you just feel tired after. You really think that he’s absorbing all of your energy into him.

He lays a brown bag on the table and gives you a light hug. “Cranky. Did Jungkook make you stay up late?” he says, winking to both of you.

Jungkook stutters as the blush creeps on his cheeks. “Wh-what. Well I sort of did…” You shoot Jungkook a glare to stop him from saying anything that would make Taehyung make fun of both of you, which makes him cough awkwardly. “But that’s not.. anyway, why are you here, Hyung?”

Taehyung chuckles. “I’m just dropping off some pieces of bread from my girlfriend. She wants to say thanks.”

“Woah, thank you so much, Hyung.” Jungkook’s eyes twinkle as he walks faster to the bag. “I don’t think she’ll return to the bakery this fast.”

“Hey, my girlfriend is a strong woman! Although I also hope that she takes a day off. Anyway, just share them with Y/N, okay?” Taehyung waves and walks to the door. “I’m going to drop this other bag of bread off for the others, and maybe help them too. I don’t think Jungkook would want me here.” Taehyung says as he smiles meaningfully to him and walks away.

“Hyung!” Jungkook whines, his face is reddened.

You giggle at Jungkook’s antics. “Why don’t you want him here, Kook?”

His eyes turn shaky with you looking directly into his face. “No reason.” He avoids your gaze again. He rummages through the brown bag and pulls out a piece of bread. “Just eat some if you want to.“

He bites his bread and slowly chews it. Today, he is eating a piece of cream-cheese and almond bread. It is his most favorite bread from the bakery, Palate Cleanser.

It is a bakery that Taehyung has been talking about for several weeks. Not only does it belong to his new girlfriend, it serves delicious bread. Sure, Jungkook has never been a picky-eater, but he loves it. So after Taehyung gave him a tester, he became a new loyal customer of that bakery. Well, the bakery is just a few blocks from the Company too, so it is rather convenient.

You are still working with that huge-ass machine that whirrs like a washer. He perches on one of the desks,  while he watches you from behind. And suddenly he smells something.

A smell that is familiar to him.

A smell that he noticed when he was in the crime scene.

"Do you smell this?”

You turn your head to him, confused. “Huh, what?”

He hops off the desk and walks around. “This smell. I smelled it in the crime scene. What is it?”

His statement perks your interest and you take a big breath. “I don’t smell anything.”

Jungkook takes a bigger sniff. “It’s there. Why can’t you smell it?”

“Well, sure that bread of yours is smellier than you think. I can only smell your bread.” You shrug as you turn again to face the machine.

“What?” Jungkook looks at the bread in his hand and takes a sniff at it. His eyes widen as he is realizing something. “This is it. This is what I smelled. Well, kinda.” He yells as he pushes his bread to you.

You raise one of your eyebrows as you hesitantly sniff his half-eaten bread. “This sour thingy?”

“What? No! It is the cream-cheese. What I meant is this bittery smell,” he picks some pieces from the bread and hands it to you after he smells it.

Your eyes widen as you see what is in Jungkook’s hand.

Almonds.

“Cyanide…” you whisper.

Jungkook tilts his head. “What?”

You walk quickly to the computer. “It must have been it. It just makes sense now.”

“Cyanide? Why can’t you smell it too?” Jungkook asks as he follows you from behind.

“There’s only a handful of people that can smell it. It is not specific, actually. Oh my God, I totally forgot about it.” You tap on the keyboards and hit the enter key. “Yes. It is cyanide poisoning.”

Jungkook looks at the screen, “so he was poisoned?”

You nod. “Yes. I need to check his toxicology report first. Will you tell Jin about it?”

“Got it. I’ll tell him and get a warrant to search the hall.” Jungkook walks quickly and grabs his phone from his pocket. He taps his phone to call and puts it on his ear. Jungkook stops in front of the door and turns back to face you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You clear your throat. “Just go already!”

After Jungkook leaves, you still have the weird feeling that has accumulated in your chest from proximity to him. Just a mere sentence from his mouth is enough to leave your chest in turmoil. It took you just ten minutes to finally function normally again.

Well, you are lucky enough to find out the poison as soon as you did. If you had let the body lie in that room without any investigation, the evidence could have been lost. You wouldn’t have found the truth.

Still, after you know how he was killed, your work doesn’t get any easier. There’s no other trace of cyanide in the victim’s belongings.

It’s another roadblock.

That’s why you have been dialing Jungkook for the thirteenth time. And in the midst of your fourteenth call, you decide to end your call sooner. It’s no use calling him right now.

You close your laptop and gather all of your lab papers. After making sure that you have everything, you walk out to the door to find Jungkook. The sooner you finish this work, the sooner you’ll go home.

You hop into the elevator with much difficulty, given your full arms. Why didn’t you use a bag for all of your stuff? Your elbow hovers next to the “7” button, and after a moment you resolutely bump it.  Your mind wanders. Was this the right idea?

Well, why wouldn’t you?

This floor is for elite agents only. You have never stepped foot on this floor until now. It is not that you were curious, but you know that this mission, or rather this case, is an important one. If Jungkook wanted the report as soon as possible, then he should want it as soon as possible, right?

It’s your job.

It’s not because you want to see Jungkook.

It is not.

At the sound of the “ding,” you step out of the elevator. Which way to his desk? The floor is huge and there’s no map or anyone who can help you. It’s Sunday, after all. You close your eyes to sharpen your hearing, but you still can’t hear anything.

You sigh in defeat as you shuffle your armload of paper to reach into your coat pocket to find your phone. Your fingers have just grazed it when you are jostled by someone bumping into you from behind. You barely avoid spilling your report file and you turn around to face the one who has collided with you.

“Oops. Sssowry.” A skinny man with fair skin apologizes as he bows to you, slurring his speech. The fumes of his breath threaten to pickle you like one of your cadavers. His eyes are kinda reddish, too. Still, his walking posture is as you saw him in the past, ignoring the fact how he has turned this giddy.

“Min Yoongi?”

He raises his eyes to meet yours as he straightens back up. He squints, trying to remember your face. “Oh!” He beams. “You are the hot forensic doctor. What’re you doin’ here?”

Your cheeks feel hot as you hear the awkward nickname. Sure, you know that your appearance is above average, but that doesn’t mean that you deserve that name. You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m Y/N. I need to see Jungkook, he didn’t answer my call…”

Yoongi nods in understanding and points to a blue door with his thumb. “He must be at the meeting then. I’ll let him know, or you know what, just come along, I’m already late too.”

You raise one of your eyebrows, but still walk behind him closely. “Is it okay? I don’t want to disturb the meeting.”

“Nah. It is actually about your case too, so what’s the harm?” He knocks the door rhythmically and after hearing a permission he goes in. Yoongi’s eyes travel to the young man sitting in the corner. “Jungkook-ah. You got a visitor.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrow and sneaks a glance to the door. When he sees you, his eyes turn wide in panic. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He stands up quickly and walks toward you.

You smile awkwardly. “I called you several times but I got no response so here I am.” In the silence, you finally look around. There are five other men sitting around the conference table looking back at you and Jungkook, intrigued. The tension in the room gets less serious than before as you look around the meeting. “Sorry, guys, for interrupting.”

A smaller man with plump lips sends you a mischievous smile as he nodges Taehyung’s elbow. His eyes turn into crescent. “Nonsense! Great to see you again, Y/N.”

“Hey, Jimin. Long time no see. Sorry, it won’t take long. I just need to hand off this report.” You set your case file on the meeting table and start searching for the report you mentioned before.

“You can join us, if you want. It will be helpful, too.” Jin, a wide-shouldered-man, the leader of this mission, speaks without looking up from the laptop in front of him.

“Yeah! Join us. It sucks to only see these brats all the time.” Jimin says as he indicates an empty chair.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sure, if you say so, but I think I’ll go grab my other stuff too from my office. I also think I left a machine running.” You take a few steps back as you laugh dryly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I’m coming with you too.” Jimin rises from his seat and follows you.

The meeting room turns silent as Jimin closes the door behind him, there is only the sound from the projector on the table.

Jungkook freezes, not knowing what to do. His eyes just stare at the spot where you stood before. This action somehow attracts the attention of the older agents as they all share knowing glances between them.

“You know, Kook. If you really like her, you should just say so,” Taehyung says as he smiles softly to Jungkook. He props his chin on his hand, studying Jungkook’s response.

Jungkook’s doe eyes widen and turn shaky with the sudden suggestion. His cheeks turn bright red. “Wha-what? No. I don’t like her. I mean, I don’t like her like that…”

“So it’s okay if Jimin likes her then?” Yoongi speaks up abruptly, making all of the other agents turn his head to him. The agents hide their smiles and then turn again to Jungkook who is looking more nervous than before, anticipating his answer.

Jungkook casts his head down, looking at the floor. He bites his lower lip harshly, trying to hold his lips from muttering a word that he’ll regret.

“What’ll you do, Kook?” Hoseok asks again, softly. This time it sounds like a reassurance rather than a question. The way Jungkook acts is a new thing for him. He’s never seen Jungkook like this and it needs no licensed therapist to see how whipped Jungkook is for the doctor. If only Jungkook himself knows it.

Just the time Jungkook is about to open his mouth, Jin slams his hand to the table. “Sure, maknae’s love story is very exciting, but we have a job, okay? Let’s resume our meeting.”

Taehyung snorts as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Party-pooper.”

Jin turns his head to Taehyung. “Yah. You have been a pain in my ass since you joined this mission. What do you want to do then?” he throws his hand in the air in frustration. Their conflict from the night before is still hot in his mind.

Yoongi pats Jin’s shoulder softly. “Just think of this as a break, Hyung. You’ve been working non-stop. I also suggest that we should just call it a day and get some sleep. We won’t get anything more if we force ourselves like this.”

“But, still…”

A sudden ring fills the room. Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket and puts it on his ear. “Hey, Jimin. What’s up?” His eyes widen and his expression hardens as he listens to the rest of the call. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.” He says as he ends the call and puts the phone into his pocket. The other agents look at him quizzically.

“What happened?” Jin asks warily.

Hoseok sighs and says quietly, “Someone broke into Y/N’s office.”

You stand quietly in the elevator with Jimin still smiling weirdly beside you. “Why are you following me?”

“No reason. I’m just bored.” He hums. He’s not as bulky as Jungkook, and, compared to Jungkook, Jimin is like a thin child, even though Jimin is two years older than Jungkook. Well, you do recall that Jimin has just started his field mission just for a several weeks, and he worked as a handler before.

You snort. “Sure.”

Jimin turns his head to you with his hands clenching his chest. “What? You don’t believe me? I feel hurt!” he widens his eyes comically.

“Sure.” you say, rolling your eyes.

Jimin pouts and sighs in defeat. “Fine. I just need to put something inside Sehun’s drawer.” He pulls a black-leathery curled thing from his pocket and shows you. “I want to get my revenge.”

You laugh and to think that he brings it everyday to find a perfect opportunity is amusing to you. “And you think I won’t tell him that you put a fake snake in his drawer?”

“Y/N, don’t tell him, pleasee~” he whines cutely as both of you step out of the elevator. Sure, you know that he’s cute, whining like that, but Jungkook’s cuter for you.

Why the hell do I keep thinking of him?

“Just give me a reason not to tell him then.” you walk past him as he stands with a pout on his face.

He puts his hands under his chin, thinking deeply and suddenly he smiles knowingly. “I can tell you anything you’d want to know about Jungkook.”

It’s your turn to freeze on the spot. You turn your head slowly to meet Jimin’s eyes, giving him the widest smile you can give. “And why would I want that?”

Jimin shrugs and walks again to the office, still his smile doesn’t leave his face. He looks confident, overly confident. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you’d want it.”

You stomp ahead of him as you approach your office’s door. “Fine, I won’t tell Sehun about the snake.” You turn back and point your index finger at him. “Only because I know how Sehun hates snakes and his reaction is hilarious.” Your narrow your eyes as you continue. “Not because of Jungkook.” you whisper.

Jimin hides his smile. “Sure.”

You tap your card on the door and open it. Your eyes widen as you step inside your office. The sight inside your office makes you shiver immediately. Papers are scattered everywhere. The chair is thrown into the corner of the room. The glass cabinet’s shattered to pieces. “What the-” Color drains from your face as you proceed further, carefully stepping around the glass shards on the floor.

Jimin turns pale as he stands in front of the door, not knowing what to do. “Y/N, I think we shouldn’t enter for the time being. I’ll call the others first.” He grabs his phone and rapidly taps it. “Just don’t go any farther!”

His voice however doesn’t register, as your feet draw you closer to your desk. A burglar? What would a burglar want to steal in this office? There’s no expensive things in the office, well, except your coffee machine. But they didn’t need to trash this place in the first place, right?

At the sight of your desk, your knees weaken. Your eyes widen in fear and shock as you struggle to hold your body upright. Finally your legs give away, and you collapse to the floor. Your hands scrabble to regain any strength and hold your upper body from falling.

You breathe faster. You want to scream as loud as you can, but there is nothing left from your lips. Your hands tremble. You try hard to stop it by pushing them harder on the floor, pushing the glass shards right into your palms. The pain doesn’t make it to your mind right now, when what lies in front of you has every power to take your mind away.

Tears trickle from your eyes. Your vision turns blurry covered by your tears. As you blink them away, you also hope that the sight is gone too. But no matter how many times you blink, you still see the same thing.

And it is nauseating.

Pounding hurried footsteps in the hall outside your office finally helps you  regain some of your senses. You open your mouth slowly, trying your best to gather as much sound-air-or anything as you can as the breaths come too quickly to be of any use. “Help…” you whisper.

The other agents barge inside your office. Their faces have a mixture of expressions: mad-shock-confused-worry, and somehow you can see all of it on Jungkook’s face when he sees you slumped on the floor with bloodied hands. “Y/N?” Jungkook calls cautiously, trying to gain your attention.

“Kook…” you sob harder, which makes Jungkook immediately run to your side.

Jungkook holds your shoulders softly and studies your face, his eyebrows frown in worry. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering him, you weakly lift up your arm to point to your desk. The agents all turn their heads to your desk, and terror overtakes their faces.

There’s a heart stabbed with a scalpel on your desk.

“What the..” Jin whispers.

Taehyung steps backward, hand to his face as he fights the urge to vomit. “Is that a fucking human heart?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, he just pulls the blanket from your makeshift bed to wrap your wounds. Gently supporting your elbow, he helps you stand. He doesn’t leave your side, holding you close to him to prevent you from falling. He turns your face to his chest, away from your desk, while Yoongi examines the heart.

Insistent tears keep falling from your eyes, even though you try your hardest to hold them back. What the hell is that? What does that mean? Why on my desk? Why?

“Hey…” Jungkook whispers into your ear. “Don’t think of anything. Just take a deep breath. Count in for four, out for four, slowly.”

You follow his instructions, looking up from his chest, searching deep into his eyes. Those brown eyes don’t run away from you this time, instead they look back into yours softly, calming your nerves. Those eyes travel to other parts of your face as well, making sure you’re okay.

Jungkook tightens his hands into fists, trying to stop himself from brushing your tears away from your face. How he hates to see you crying; He’s never realized it until now. He hates it. He always sees you with a smile on your face, and it always makes his heart beat faster. And now? With tears falling from your tired but still beautiful eyes, his heart aches.

“…. It’s just my opinion.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through your reverie as you calmed down. You turn to the speakers, giving them both of your attention again.

“So it’s from a dead body?” Hoseok asks warily.

Jin runs his hand through his hair, “Alright, someone please take a look at the mortuary. Jungkook?”

Jungkook looks at your wet face once more, hesitant to leave your side. Finally he nods and moves his body away from you.  

“I’m coming with you…” you whisper as you grip his shoulder, forgetting that your hands are still covered in glass shards wrapped in the edge of a now-destroyed blanket.

Jungkook turns back to face you, glancing at your bloodied hands. It must have hurt. He holds your shoulder softly. “No. You should treat your wounds.”

“But…” I want to be with you.

“Jimin-hyung, please help Y/N?” Jungkook asks Jimin, ignoring your protest. Jimin stands by your side, slowly and gently gesturing you to follow him out of the door. You sigh in defeat as you follow Jimin, your eyes keep stealing glances to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes are still lingering on your back when you walk away and his heart aches harder. I want to be with you too.

“What’ll you do, Kook?” Hoseok asks again. This time it sounds like a reassurance rather than a question.

“You know, Kook. If you really like her, you should just say so,” Taehyung says as he smiles softly to Jungkook. He props his chin on his hand, studying Jungkook’s response.

Does he like you?

Maybe.

Actually, he has never thought of this.

Feelings. They have never been programmed as part of his routine. He is an agent, a soldier. Feelings make him weak. Feeling is messy, messier than blood splattered on the wall when he bombarded a body with bullets. He once told himself not to trust his feelings. That’s why it was so hard for him to talk or be with you. His feelings are growing stronger after time and it’s suffocating him.

And the harder he denies his feelings, the stronger they get.

What is this feeling? Why is it so painful to see her like that?

No matter how many times he repeats his question in his mind, the answer is the same. It is the only rational reason for such an irrational topic.

He swallows the four-lettered-word that almost slipped from his lips and shakes his head to clear his mind.

He’s gonna investigate this case quickly. Just so he can see you. Just so he can look after you. And with that thought, he runs from your office.

You sit on the bed in the infirmary, gazing on the white wall. This room is supposed to smell like an antiseptic, just like a hospital, but instead it is just dusty. Everything is cleaned every single day, but it is just like there’s no one working here for a long time.

Jimin rummages in the cabinet beside you trying to find what he needs. After he finds the disinfection solution, tweezers, and some gauzes, he puts them on the metal tray and sets it on the bed.

Jimin reaches for your hand, opening the ruined blanket softly. You wince as the movement shoots another pain through your hand. “Sorry.” He purses his lips.

You shake your head weakly, tears threatening to fall. Why am I only feeling the pain now? “It’s okay.”

He looks at your both hands, examining them carefully. “There’s a lot of shards. It’s gonna be painful.”

You gulp. “I know.”

“We still don’t have a new doctor assigned here, so would you mind if I do it instead? You can tell me if I do it wrong.”

“Okay,” you answer.

He pours the disinfection solution over your hand. The pain starts accumulating as you bite your lips to stop yourself from screaming. He takes a pair of tweezers with his right hand and using his other hand to hold your wounded hand gently. Slowly, he begins to pick the shards from your hand.

After fifteen minutes working on the wounds, Jimin smiles in satisfaction and rises from his seat to get a bandage.

A knock on the door fills the room and Jungkook walks inside slowly and stops just before you. His eyes darted to yours immediately, looking worried. “How’s her wound, Hyung?”

Jimin returns with some rolls of bandages. “There’s a lot of wounds, but luckily they weren’t too deep.” Jimin begins to cover the cuts slowly.

“Whose is it?” you whisper to Jungkook. You’re not gonna lie that it’s been bothering you. To think that someone stole an organ from supposedly protected cadaver sends shivers to your spine.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks at your face hesitantly. “It’s from Baekho’s body. That body is ruined now.”

Your eyes glisten with new tears as your hands begin to tremble. The sight of a human heart stabbed on your desk filling your mind. You see organs everyday, it’s part of your job, you are used to seeing it. But it’s a different feeling when that organ was stabbed unknowingly to your desk. “What’s happening? Wa-Was that a threat?”

Jungkook hesitates, you can see it in his brown eyes. He sits beside you and reaches for your now-bandaged-hand and holds it gently, afraid of hurting you any further. “I’m sorry.”

His honeyed-voice, that you love, sounds as if he is in pain, and it somehow pains you even more. “That’s okay. I’m the one who agreed to it in the first place. And besides, I chose to work in this field, it’s only a matter of time that I get something like this, isn’t it?” you laugh dryly, but deep inside, you’re afraid. Well, how can’t you?

Jungkook’s hand tightens. “Still, I shouldn’t put you in any danger.” He sighs. “Which is why I’m gonna take you home after this.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“If they don’t want you to investigate about Baekho, then you shouldn’t do it.” He looks straight at you. “It’s for your safety.”

You turn your palm to meet his, holding him back. “Kook, I must finish it.”

“No. This is a dangerous case and it was stupid of me to ask your help. I don’t want you involved any further.” He closes his mouth for a moment, trying to mutter appropriate words. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N.”

You shake your head profusely. “I don’t want to. I have to finish it. It’s my job.”

“Y/N…”

“See, I’m fine! It’s just a few cuts.” You desperately move your bandaged hand; you can still feel the pain shooting through your hands, but it’s not the point right now.

Jungkook holds your hand tighter and looks deep into your eyes. “I know, you’re not okay. Your hands are still trembling, Y/N. Please listen to me.”

You sigh. You know that Jungkook is stubborn, it won’t be easy to persuade him, but you know that he’s right. Maybe this case is too dangerous for you. “At least until I finish the report for today, please?”

He bites his lower lips, deep in his own thoughts. Jungkook lifts his hand to bring your bandaged hand to his lips, grazing your knuckles softly. “Are you sure?” His eyes never leave yours.

It takes your breath and your mind away, his hot breath against your skin and his brown eyes looking straight into yours. You can still feel his soft lips, hot on your skin when he puts your hand down, still holding it gently. Your heart thumps inside your chest and down to your wrist. Can he hear it? How does it feel so right with your hand in his? You nod. “I’m sure. I have you, right?”

“Yes.” Jungkook squeezes your hand gently one more time to reassure you. “You have me.”

A cough interrupts your interaction with Jungkook. “Well, this is awkward.” Jimin puts your other bandaged hand on your thigh as he rises to clean up the mess. “I’m just- I’m gonna take this call. Bye.” Jimin points at his phone, even though the screen is dark, and hurries out of the infirmary.

Heat rushes to your face; you forget that Jimin was still beside you. You look at Jungkook’s reddened face, completely sure that he also did the same. With that thought, the smiles slipped on your faces.

He releases your hands immediately and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, I ruined your blanket.”

You tilt your head in confusion. Then your eyes dart to the blanket on the floor.  “Ah… That’s fine. It was good first aid.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

You nod and smile. “Sure, thanks Kook.”

“I-I also want to buy you dinner.” He clears his throat, his eyes travel to the wall in front of you. “Not in this building. I’ll take you to a proper restaurant.”

Your eyes widen with the sudden invitation. It’s weird but somehow it brings a smile to your face. Your smile turns into a wider one and you hide it by biting your lower lip. “I’d love that.”

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