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kisses4reid · 4 months

Text

protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

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rayaswrittings · 10 months

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I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.

After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

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ashwhowrites · 4 months

Note

Requesting for cliche story fuck boy eddie simping over a nerdy girl. Maybe angst in the middle?

Ugh one of my favorite dynamics to write. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️no actual smut but talks of it

She's different

Eddie spent years being made fun of and being insecure. In ways, it helped him build a tough shell and made him stronger. But it also made him void of any feelings. He turned cold-hearted and didn't let anyone get close enough to him to hurt him.

He was still a teenager, and he had his own needs. And when his hair grew out and he dressed in chains and leather, more girls were at his feet than he had ever seen. Most girls were from the hideout, groupies that lived to watch him on stage. They threw themselves at him for a chance to get backstage and be under his touch.

Being in a band was the happiest thing that happened to him and he loved the easy access of girls to choose from. School was hell, but the second he was on stage, he was what all the girls wanted. And no one would take that feeling away from him.

~~~

Eddie was half asleep as he sat in class. His hand on his palm as he felt his eyes grow heavier. He had a late night with a girl's name he didn't remember. He moaned in discomfort as he felt her marks still stinging on his back.

"Hi," a soft voice spoke in front of him. He snapped open his eyes to see a girl in front of him. She had glasses, and her hair was down. She wore a little sweater and a skinny pair of jeans.

"Can I help you?" Eddie yawned

"Um..." She said as she looked around the classroom. Everyone is moving to sit with their partners. "We are partners. Were you listening?" She asked with a little giggle.

Eddie couldn't help but smile as the sound left her lips. He had to admit, for a quiet nerd, she was adorable.

"I was not, but take a seat," he said with a smile. He used his foot to push out the chair next to him. She moved delicately as she put down her books and sat next to him. He smelled her perfume and examined her even closer. She had these big curious eyes, a soft nose, and incredibly pink lips, and her skin looked soft.

"Well..." She began to explain everything he missed. He tried to listen, but he couldn't stop watching as her lips moved to form the words. He nodded along as she continued to talk.

She turned her head to look at him, she felt her face burn as he stared at her with a small smile on his face.

She coughed and removed her eyes from his. "So! Let's start."

~~~

By the third day of working together, Eddie loved saying her name. He loved how sweet it sounded as it left his tongue.

He was shocked to find himself so lost in her. Not that being a nerd was bad, he used to be one. But he never thought of himself being attractive while being a nerd. But God, did she do it well.

He was captivated by how smart she was. Way too smart to be in his class. She was mature and he could tell by the way she spoke with a high vocabulary. She didn't make him feel dumb, which was different. She was sweet and took the time to explain anything he didn't understand.

He was smitten.

~~~

Five days into working together he wanted more. He wanted to see her outside of school, outside of her shell. He wanted to see how she looked in the outside world and how her personality might change. He wondered if she had another side of her. A side that didn't stress about grades and let loose.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asked, not realizing he cut her off as she explained another part of the project. He was too lost in his head as he thought about her.

She closed her mouth and gave her answer a thought.

"Well, it's Friday so nothing." She laughed, "Why do you ask? Are you worried we won't finish? Because we have five minutes and just one last paragraph." She explained as she pushed up her glasses.

"Nah, respectfully, I could care less about this project," he chuckled, "I want to hang out, just the two of us and not focus on the project."

She froze as she looked over at him. His eyes sparkled and the sun shined perfectly on his face.

"Why would you want that?" She nervously asked. She couldn't form a single idea why he would want to hang out with her. She wasn't anywhere near his usual crowd of friends.

"Because I want to get to know you. I was thinking about a date?" He offered. He felt a little nervous and didn't understand why. Asking out girls was something he could do in his sleep, but she had his stomach fluttering and his hands sweaty.

He felt more nervous as he waited for her answer.

"Why not," she smiled. She clicked her pen and grabbed his hand. He flinched a little as the pen tickled his hand as she wrote down her phone number.

"Call me," she smiled as she picked up her stuff. A second later the bell rang and she was gone in a flash.

Eddie bit back his smile as he looked down at his hand. Her number and a little heart written next to it. He jumped out of his seat, a bounce in his step as he walked out.

Eddie didn't realize he was causing much of a commotion until Wayne walked into his disaster room.

"Edward, what in the hell are you doing?" Wayne asked as he took in the sight of Eddie's room. Clothes were thrown everywhere, and shoes were missing their pairs.

"I'm trying to find a nice shirt but everything is a band!" Eddie cussed to himself.

Wayne couldn't help the smile that went across his face, "And why do you all of a sudden need a nice shirt?" He was young once, and he knew exactly why his nephew was stressed.

"Don't look at me like that," Eddie groaned as he yanked off his shirt and added it to the no pile.

"What's her name?" Wayne asked, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

"Y/N," Eddie sighed, "I asked her out and I have nothing to wear!"

"Looks to me like you have a lot of options," Wayne laughed, "But what if we go get a nice shirt? I'll take you."

Eddie looked at his watch, he had a good few hours before he needed to leave.

"Fine but we don't speak of it," Eddie said as he pointed at Wayne.

Eddie's leg shook in the car as they pulled up to the small strip mall.

"How come you are this nervous?" Wayne asked as he got out of the car. "We share a wall so I know you aren't shy with many girls."

Eddie blushed in embarrassment, and he mumbled an apology.

"She's different, I guess." Eddie shrugged, he walked behind Wayne as they walked into the shop.

Eddie stood in front of the mirror as he sprayed on cologne. He used water to pat down his hair, and he ran his hands over his new button-up.

He was nervous but he was excited.

Wayne wished him luck as he walked out the door. Eddie got in his van and headed to the address she gave over the phone. His heart raced when he talked to her for a few seconds. He was not sure what he was going to do when he was with her all night.

Before he knew it he was outside her door and knocking.

"Hi, Eddie," she smiled as she opened the door. "You look very handsome." She was surprised to see him in something else other than a band shirt and ripped jeans.

"Oh, thank you," he smiled, "you look wonderful." His eyes skimmed up and down her body. She wore a simple and casual dress. It was white with little sunflowers. It matched her personality. She wore her glasses and light makeup.

"Thank you," she smiled.

Eddie gestured for her to walk in front of him, they walked to his van and got inside. She listened to his music as he drove to the location of their date. She was nervous. She had never been on a date before and definitely not with a guy like Eddie.

"I hope you like water," Eddie said, Y/N looked out the windshield and saw that there was a little pond. He got out of the van and opened her door. She thanked him as she got out. She waited as he grabbed a basket from his backseat.

He led them down a little hill, his hand holding hers as she wobbled.

Once they made it to the flat ground, he let go of her hand. He reached into the basket and pulled out a blanket. He threw it on the ground and offered her to sit first.

She smiled as she sat down, smoothing down her dress to cover her thighs. Eddie sat next to her and took out a few snacks from the basket.

Within an hour they were talking like they knew each other for years. Eddie was learning so much about her and it made him like her even more. She had an amazing personality and she was funny. She made Eddie laugh so hard that water came out of his nose. Which made her laugh so hard she had to hold her stomach.

She didn't think she had ever been so happy to be with someone.

And for once, Eddie loved getting to know someone.

As another hour passed, Eddie's urgers got the best of him. She was telling a story and he was lost in her eyes. The way the moon shined down on her and the sound of the water, it couldn't get more romantic in his eyes.

Eddie didn't notice he was leaning in until she froze. He looked down at her lips as he closed the space between them. He softly kissed her lips, and his hands reached forward to wrap around her waist.

She was nervous but she kissed him back. Her hands shook as she moved her arms around his neck. She was new to this and she wasn't sure how to kiss him back. But as he kissed her harder, she got the hang of it.

The kiss got heated as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she shivered and was surprised to hear a moan slip from her throat.

Eddie took the moan as a green light to move forward. His hands moved down to her thighs and began to slip under her dress.

Her lips stopped and she yanked back. Her hands stopped his hands from moving even further.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered, he went to attach his lips to hers again but she turned her head.

"I'm not, It's our first date, Eddie. I don't want to rush anything." She explained honestly.

"It's not rushing. I do this on all my first dates." Eddie shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

Y/N felt a blow hit her chest. All of his dates? How many has he been on? How many had he brought to this exact spot?

"You're a pig," she scoffed as she shoved him off of her. She stood up.

"Woah, what's going on?" He asked as he stood up. He wasn't aware his fuck boy ways were sneaking out of him.

"Absolutely nothing anymore," she glared, "take me home." She marched to his van without a glance back.

The car ride was silent. She didn't speak a word, just stared out the window.

She should have known better.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked as he pulled up to her house.

"I'll see you Monday." She spat as she got out and slammed his door.

"Y/N!" he yelled after her as he got out. He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"What did I do?" he asked genuinely.

"I do this on all my dates," she mocked, her voice deep as she repeated his words. "I should have known it was all an act."

The realization smacked him in the face.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push like that." His eyes were soft as he apologized. "None of it is an act! I really like you and I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm used to something different, you know?"

"Maybe you need to figure out everything you feel, and maybe we can talk when you are ready to face those feelings." She smiled sadly and pecked his cheek. He watched as she walked inside.

~~~

The next night Eddie was all over the place. He performed and ran straight to the bar. He wanted to drink his sorrows away. He had one shot and he blew it. He showed just how washed up he was. He slammed down his shot and called for another.

"Hard night?" A random girl asked as she sat next to him. He turned his head to take in the blonde.

"Yep," he said, slamming down his second shot.

"Let me make you feel better," she whispered into his ear.

Eddie sat in the back of his van with the random girl on his lap. Her lips were on his neck, but everything felt wrong.

He wasn't enjoying it, and it wasn't making him forget about her. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was her sweet smile as they laughed by the water.

He stopped the girl's hands as they went for his belt.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry," he said, he didn't look at her as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.

"Are you serious? Since when?" the girl scoffed

"Have you ever really liked someone? Not like being in love, but in that area where you can see yourself falling in love with them?" He asked, the girl sighed and slipped on her shirt.

"Yeah. Chances are if you can already see yourself falling in love, it'll happen. You stuck in that spot?" She asked

"You know my reputation around here. I fuck and move on. She's different. I asked her out and we had an amazing date, then I fucked it up." He sighed, "Not sure how to fix it."

"Admitting it to yourself is the first step,"

"And the next?" he asked

"You admit it to her."

~~~

Monday morning arrived and Eddie was ready to win her back.

Since the project was finished, she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But that was not going to stop him.

He wrote a little note this morning, asking to meet outside during lunch. He walked in and saw her already sitting at her spot. He took a deep breath and handed the note to her.

She looked up at him but didn't say a word.

Eddie walked back to his desk. All throughout class he kept looking back at her.

Eddie waited outside and checked his watch. Lunch started ten minutes ago and she wasn't there. He was nervous he might have messed up too much and that she didn't care to fix it. She probably realized he wasn't worth the hassle or the emotions he caused.

He crunched the flowers in his grip as he looked over his shoulder.

"Hi,"

He heard her soft voice before he saw her. He turned around and smiled as she walked closer.

He was nervous as he handed her the flowers, "these are for you."

"Thanks," she said quietly as she took the flowers from his hands.

"I'm really sorry for acting like a dick. You were right, I needed to figure out everything I felt. I went to the bar and I met someone."

Y/N ignored the pain she felt as she listened.

"My plan was to do what I always did. Sleep with someone until I forgot why I was there in the first place. But I stopped it because it felt wrong. I hated myself for being with her. I kept thinking of you." He stepped closer as he held her hand.

"I was doing the wrong thing and with the wrong person. And it made me realize, that I really like you. And I want my main focus to be just on you. I want you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I would love to have the chance to take you out again. I've never actually been on a date, that was my first real one. I know I fucked up the beautiful night we had, but I really think I can make you feel special."

"I guess there's no harm in giving it a shot." She smiled

Eddie jumped to his feet with excitement.

"Thank you!" he crushed her in a hug as she laughed.

~~~

They had been dating for a month and Eddie was true to his word. She felt more special than ever and it was all because of him.

She felt a little nervous as they walked into the hideout. He was honest about his past here and the reputation he had. But she wanted to be a supportive girlfriend and watch him perform. She had to try to forget about all the girls there and just focus on her man.

"The second I'm done, I will be coming straight to you," he smiled. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She was in a territory where Eddie was never taken, and she wanted to prove herself.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. She wasn't shy as she snuck her tongue in his mouth. Her body rocked against his as his hands landed on her ass.

He felt his head spin as she pulled away. His eyes slowly opened as he caught his breath

"What was that?" he asked, his eyes dark as he drank her in

"Good luck kiss," she said with a shrug and smirk

"I'm going to need luck hiding the front of my pants," he teased as he adjusted his tight jeans.

"I'll help you faster," she whispered in his ear. She enjoyed the way he shuddered.

He kept his eyes on her as he walked into the back.

She understood why so many girls adored her boyfriend. The way he performed was incredible. It was hard to look anywhere else.

She waited at a table in the back as he wrapped up. His sweaty body came walking towards her but a girl stepped in.

Y/N couldn't hear the conversation but she could tell the girl was flirting by the way she ran her hand up Eddie's arm.

Then another girl came after that one left. And then other.

Y/N felt sick as she watched countless girls walk up and flirt with him. It was a painful reminder of what Eddie's past was.

She was quick to run outside, needed fresh air and to be away from the scene she was stuck watching over and over.

Eddie was quick to push everyone aside and follow her out.

"Hey baby," he said softly, she was leaning against the wall.

"You were amazing!" she praised as she pulled him into a hug. Eddie hugged her back and thanked her. He pulled back but kept his arms around her.

"Want to tell me what happened in there?" Eddie asked

Y/N sighed and looked down at her feet

"I was just a little jealous."

"Why? You are my girlfriend, they've got nothing on you." Eddie explained

Y/N scoffed and unhooked her arms from him.

"They have all had sex with you, Eddie! They've got plenty on me. I mean, I am nothing like those girls."

"Exactly!" Eddie said as he placed his hands on her face. "I don't want you to be anything like them. I want you because you are you. Yes, I've been physical with them, but that is all. There is no connection or emotional ties. It's different with you because I really see myself falling in love with you."

"Really?" she smiled as she looked up at him.

"Of course." He said as he crashed his lips on hers. She moaned as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair.

After a few seconds, she pulled away. Smirking as he chased her lips. She had him right around her finger.

"You know..." she started, her hands slipped down his body and rested on top of his jeans. "Maybe I'll eliminate the one thing they have on me." Her smirk made Eddie shiver in excitement.

"As in sex?" Eddie choked out. His eyes lit up like Christmas as he practically bounced with anticipation.

"Van, now." She said as she turned around and walked towards his fan.

He watched her walk away with a dopey smile on his face.

"YOU COMING?" she yelled as she turned. She walked backward and kept her eyes on him. She laughed as he seemed to snap out of his daydream. He fished out his keys and dropped them on the floor.

"SHIT, I'M COMING!" he screamed as he bent down and grabbed his keys.

She giggled as he ran straight to the van.

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chososdiscordkitten · 8 months

Text

How JJK Men Jack Off.

Includes: 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒂, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐, 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 Content: jjk men fondling themselves to the thought of reader hehe, GN!Reader in all of em, will put cws before any of em :>

(a.n) I listened to sooo much country while writing this</3 nsfw under the cut- duh. I can go into severe, painful, thousand word long tangent on Choso's but I didn't wanna make this too long

MDNI

Hiromi Higuruma

Empty office, cursing, established relationship, spit, stressed Hiromi is sexier

I see Hiromi as the kind of guy to not do it so often. Before becoming a sorcerer I think he'd be at work, late at night, alone in the office. Rereading a casefile he couldn't crack and feeling irritation pound in his skull. Not knowing why he was so snappy or curt as of late. Then it would hit, because he hasn't gotten that poison out in a while. He'd do it more as a chore at first. Thinking with one orgasm he’ll be fine for another few days.

But when he’d undo his belt, the metal clinking making his eyebrows furrow. Slow fingers unzipping his slacks the way you'd do it, black briefs greeting him with a semi beneath the fabric. Pulling up the hem of his button up and tucking it between his teeth. The kind of man to not need porn or need to look at magazines to get hard. Hiromi had his imagination and relied on that.

If we included you in this, he'd remember the last time you were on your knees before him. How your pretty lips wrapped around him perfectly- how your eyes sparkled when you looked up at him. And if we're talking single Hiromi, he’d just picture a hand other than his own. No face hovering above it or anyone in specific.

Hiromi would start off slow, pulling his cock out in his office chair. Feet planted on the ground to keep the chair from swiveling. Looking on his desk to see if there was any lotion or anything to use as lube. The disappointment he felt when he realized he'd have to use his own spit and precum was humbling. But he was already on the road to being fully erect so what could he do?

Taking a light hand onto his tan base, sighing a straggled breath as he felt the warmth fill his palm. Fluttering his eyes closed as his head tipped back onto the plush chair. Lightly stroking his hand up and down to coax a few tears of precum from his pinkening tip. Pulling his hand from his hard cock, blinking his eyes open and gathering saliva on his tongue, spitting it onto his palm before hurrying it back to his cock. Wincing when he felt the spit press against his tip.

A soft exhale leaving his lungs as his hand squeezed his member. Spreading his spit and the clear precum down his shaft with closed eyes, lips parted as he took soft inhales, gently stroking his cock as he felt his orgasm build.

Definitely not the type to edge or overstimulate, especially when he's just jacking off to relieve some tension.

Hiromi tried to make this last as long as he could, his lips threatening to let out small comments to himself as he pictured you between his knees, “Feels so good-” he’d mumble quietly between soft moans. The hem of his shirt falling from his teeth. Trying to keep a slow pace from how good he was feeling. His skin searing beneath his suit as his hand tightened its grip.

Keeping a steady pace, his hand squeezed past his tip, a small ‘hah-’ in the shape of a moan left his lips at the sudden feeling. Eyes shut tight as his hand quickened its pace, the corner of his lips curling into a smile as warmth flooded in his tummy.

Unashamed whimpers would leave Hiromi’s lips, knowing you weren't there so he didn't have to hold them back. Bottom lip tucked beneath pearly white teeth as he struggled to let out a curse, “F-fuck-” as his wrist turned over, pumping himself at a new angle, his tip grazing his palm as his breathing quickened, eyes cracking open as his orgasm neared its edge.

Looking for a place to spurt his cum onto- not wanting to make a mess. Only to stand on wobbly feet, cock in hand as he pumped himself, hunched over his desk. Using his other for stability as shaky eyes scanned the top of the dark wood top. Littered in various papers and notes, looking over to the picture of you and him he had framed on his desk.

With a loud groan his seed spurted out of him without warning, huffs evading his throat as his hand slowed its pace. Softening cock in his palm as the realization he had just spilled his mess onto that stupid case file. Hiromi puffed in annoyance, letting go of his half soft cock and looking down at his mess. Heart pumping in his chest as he felt the small twitches in his body as he came down.

But he still felt that irritation fill his mind, even more now knowing that he'd have to reprint those stupid papers. Knowing when he got home he'd have to do it again and again till that irritation left his veins.

Choso Kamo

Pillowfucking, phone sex, use of sweet boy, baby and sweetheart, reader talks him through it, mentions of reader getting penetrated but nothing in detail.

With Choso I like to think he doesn't like doing it so often, especially if he has you. It almost feels like a betrayal to him. But when you'd be too busy or too tired, he'd do it. When I picture it I think of him laying on his side, in your shared bed, holding your pillow tightly laying his pj bottoms, no t-shirt so he could feel your scent on his skin.

Choso’s eyes were closed, inhaling deeply into the fabric. Thinking about you as he tried to sleep. And as his thoughts wandered through the memories of you, they trailed to the most intimate ones. Your blushed cheeks that his thumb would caress, the way your eyebrows furrowed when you were close, how soft your hands were against his skin.

Your gentle touch, the way your eyelashes would clump together when tears of pleasure would fall from your blinking eyes. How your soft skin feels against his lips when he would pepper kisses on every inch of your skin. The way you'd grip onto his back so harshly you’d leave hand prints when you’d finish.

Little by little, inhale by inhale, his cock showed him just how much he missed you. With a harsh inhale of your scent, his cock dripped a tear onto his pants. Softly bucking his hips up into your pillow, trying to soothe the ache that grew between his thighs. Huffing softly as the blood shot directly to his cock, tucking his lip between his teeth as he closed his eyes. Thinking about you- your eyelashes, your lips, the beauty marks that had the privilege of staying on your skin every waking moment.

Softly whining as his cock brushed against the pillow, he let out an unsatisfied puff from the lack of stimulation on his tip. Sitting up on his knees and pressing his growing bulge against the cloth, keeping his hands on the pillow as he looked down at it. Thinking how pitiful it was that he was considering doing what he was thinking of. He sighed, feeling his hair block the sides of his vision.

Choso trailed his hands from the sides of the pillow, picturing it was your torso- not the useless cotton. Wondering a hand to his thigh, blinking his eyes shut and picturing it was yours. Undoing the small bow on his checkered pants slowly, like you’d do it. Chest adorned with a roaming blush as his cockhead dribbled.

Pushing the band of his bottoms down as his cock strained against the fabric, a soft whimper leaving his lips at the tug. Wincing when it sprung from his pants, looking down and seeing how hard he was. Pinkening tip dribbling small tears of precum that smeared against the pillow case, easing himself down on the back of his calves, slowly bucking his hips- the tip of his needy cock dragging against the cloth cover.

Straightening his spine and tipping his head back, his hands on the pillow gripping harshly. Mouth cracking open as soft pants left his throat. Slowly thrusting against the pillow as he pictured it was you- frustrated that the warmth was non existent against his cock.

Oh but if you were here, it would be so warm. You'd be so warm, so wet just for him, picturing how you'd hug his cock perfectly.

Bucking into the cloth as his hands clutched onto your pillow harshly, soft grunts leaving his throat, threatening to form your name between them. Rolling his hips against the damp cloth, facing the ceiling as your name slipped from his plump lips. Hazy eyes going to close as he felt the knot in his tummy slip.

So focused on trying to cum, desperate hips rolling onto the pillow. Half lidded eyes aiming to roll back as he bucked harshly.

A loud ringing coming from his phone a few inches away from him threw Choso from his focus. Seeing your contact photo blaring on the screen was all it took for him to cum, hot cream colored tears spilling on your pillow. Unclenching his hand from the abused cushion and shakily reaching for the phone, small hic’s leaving his chest as he swiped ‘answer’, slowly rolling his hips back as he eased down from his orgasm.

“Hello?” he sighed breathlessly, the word sounding shaky and almost in a whimper as he hunched over the pillow, his cockhead brushing against his mess. Still hard and unsatisfied as waves of his previous orgasm rippled in his chest. ‘Hey- I know we talked earlier but-’ you were greeted with heavy breaths as you spoke, ‘-I felt the sudden need to call you…?’ your tone turned suspicious as he closed his eyes, his hips threatening to keep thrusting- greedily craving another orgasm.

He responded with a small whine, the urge to keep bucking into the soiled pillow was too much to think clearly. ‘What's wrong, why are you-’ you smiled with a scoff, “I just- really missed you-” he let out a small ‘ah-’ as he thrusted up into his cum, holding the phone close to his ear as you gathered what he was doing.

‘Awe, I miss you too sweet boy.’ you grinned, Choso huffed at the pet name. He let out a drawn out whine, his sensitive tip fucking into his mess at your words. Choso’s hips followed no set pace as he spilled out louder whines, showing you he was close. ‘There you go baby~’ you spoke sweetly, being able to recognize the adoration filled sounds he made when he was close. He grunted harshly, his hips rolling without pattern as he felt that knot come undone again in his tummy.

Eyebrows furrowed so tightly it was starting to hurt, dragging his hips back and forth as he worked himself towards another orgasm.

‘Therree you go.’ you hummed, hearing his heaving ease as he muttered small curses between moans. Being thrown into an orgasm almost immediately after the last one. His lower abs contorting as his tip spurt more of his seed onto your pillow, knowing if you had found out he was doing this on what you rested your head on, you wouldn't have been so nice, so he made sure to keep that little tidbit to himself. ‘Feel better?’ you crooned through the phone, hearing the softening whimpers, Choso nodded his head slowly, a droplet of sweat trailing down his temple.

“Yes-” he took a deep breath, “I feel better- thank you.” he huffed with a shaky tone, cheeks pink and tingling from your kindness, slowly easing off of your pillow, ‘Don't thank me sweetheart, I didn't do nothin.’ he tossed himself onto the bed, phone on his ear as he heard your soft tone. ‘S’late, clean up nd go to bed for me, okay?’ you instructed, hearing him let out a small grunt at the task. Twitching as he laid on his side.

Shaky hands and fluttering eyes as he smiled at your tone, “Okay. Goodnight-” he breathed your name sweetly, hearing you bid a goodbye and hang up. Shivering shoulders and twitching thighs as he eased down from the orgasm you threw him into violently using your words. Sighing as his hair eased onto the pillows, frustrated knowing he'd have to clean up his desperate mess sooner or later.

Satoru Gojo

Public bathroom, phone sex, use of baby, dirty talk (duh), gojo calls reader pretty, insinuated reader also yknow

Gojo for sure squeezes his snake more often than not. Especially when you aren't around to assist, the type to try and use his imagination, eyes squeezed tight trying to focus. But he'd get frustrated enough to pull out his phone, he'd try to find pictures or videos of you he took or ones you've sent him.

And if we're talking single Gojo, no you included, he would hesitantly watch porn- only for a few minutes, and never a complete video. Too cautious of the whole ‘porn addiction’ thing.

I see him being between missions, tense and walking past the many shops on the sidewalk. A shit eating grin plastered on his face when he saw the banner for a sex store a few feet away. Remembering how you made a comment of how hot you found phone sex. And how it's a shame that he never calls you unless it's a few seconds long to tell you he's on his way home.

Stepping out of the store's entrance, small pink bag in hand as Gojo looked for a public restroom that was secluded. A small giggle left his throat when he found a public family bathroom. Taking his phone out of his pocket and clicking the dial on your contact, waiting as he held the phone on his shoulder. Placing the pink bag on the sink, pulling out the small bottle of lube and ripping the plastic seal.

‘Hey- I was just thinkin’ about you.’ You spoke through the phone, hearing him let out a delighted scoff, “I was thinking about you too~” he smiled through his tone, making you suspicious because he only used that specific tone when he was up to no good. ‘What’re you up to ‘toru?’ you asked with a detective tone, hearing a cap open through the phone.

“Nothin hehe~” he grinned, placing the phone on the counter and clicking the speaker button. “You remember when you told me how much you liked phone sex?” he grinned shamelessly, pushing his blindfold up and eyeing the small bottle of lube before taking his hand to his clothed cock. Palming it slowly as he waited for your reply.

‘Toru I'm at work-’ you defended, knowing exactly where this was going. Fondling himself with a smile, “Technically so am I~” he grinned, undoing his belt and the button of his uniform pants. “You don’t even have to do nothin- just talk to me~” he smiled, pulling his cock from his briefs and looking at it awaiting your reply.

‘Are you being serious?’ you asked, rushing out of your cubicle and hushing into the phone. “Mm- I’m being so serious.” he hummed through pursed lips, “Take some responsibility - I'm leaking cause of yooouu~” he smiled, tilting his head as a dribble of precum spilled from his tip. ‘Hold on- lemme go to a bathroom-’ you hurried to the elevator- feeling a sprinkle of shame at how riled up the thought had you.

Gojo spurt out a decent amount of lube onto his hand, a toothy smile adorning his lips as he pressed it to his cock with an over exaggerated moan. Your eyes going wide at the sudden increase of volume. ‘I thought you weren't coming home till friday?’ you urged in a whisper, hearing him let out small whimpers as he stroked himself slowly. “I do, but I missed you sooo-” the word formed into a moan as he squeezed past his tip. Pressing your thighs together hearing the vulgar sounds.

“-so so much.” he finished the sentence, making your face heat up and closing your eyes. Picturing what he looked like right now. Rushing out of the metal doors and into the family bathroom, locking it and pressing your back against the wall as filthy moans invaded your ears. ‘I missed you too, ‘toru.’ You sighed, hearing the loud squelching from his hand.

“Fuck- say that again.” he whined, Gojo’s eyebrows pinched together as his hand sped up its pace. ‘I missed you so much Satoruuu~’ Playing into his game, hearing a content moan fall from his lips as he thumbed the edge of his tip. Gojo let out a small huff feeling his hand push him up that ledge, ‘You sound so pretty ‘toru~’ You smiled, thighs pressed tightly together as he let a forced laugh leave his lips.

“I’m sooo close-” he smiled, pressed against the wall next to the sink as he stroked his cock harshly with filthy squelches, knees threatening to buckle. ‘You get all hot nd bothered by just my voice?’ you teased hearing his breathing quicken, “I get all hot nd bothered by just thinking about you-” he huffed, the phone screen turning on and seeing your contact photo, “You're so pretty-” he whined, almost complaining as his back threatened to arch against the wall.

“I wish you were here-” he huffed, hearing you smile through the words, ‘I know- I know.’ you smiled, inching your hand closer to the band of your bottoms, “M’cumming-” he clenched his teeth together, “fuckfuckfuck-” he babbled through pursed lips, teeth gritting with hot ears and cerulean eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

Reaching into your own bottoms to take care of the issue he raised. With a loud grunt he came- spurting his mess onto the filthy floor, uncaring if he made a mess. His shoulders shivering as his pale shaft twitched against his own hand. The sounds of his unashamed whimpers ringing through your ears, ‘Now that you're finished-’ you smiled, shoving your bottoms down and hearing his heaving slow, chest flexing from the ripples of his orgasm ‘Take some responsibility for how you have me.’ you mocked his words.

The words made his softening cock spring back to life, “You're so naughty~” he teased almost in a whine, hearing you let out a content hum, ‘If im naughty then you're filthy.’ you took a sharp inhale, batting your eyes closed as your hand continued slowly. “I am.” he muttered, stroking his cock once more as his ears ate up the small pants and whimpers from the phone. “I am.” he admitted proudly, trying to shake off the sensitivity that rumbled through his cock head.

Kento Nanami

Thinks of reader whilst yknow, cursing, not a lot cws needed, just really, really messy

Yet another man who thinks of it as a chore. I see Nanami coming home from work, no blazer or tie and three buttons undone at the top of his collar. Not having the gall to actually do it anywhere but his home. Exhausted from being on his feet all day, lounging on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Thinking of things he could do to unwind. It wasn't late enough to go to bed, nor was it early enough- or respectful to call you to see if you'd want to stay the night.

Offensively manspreading, Nanami’s hand subconsciously trailing to his groin, gently placing his palm onto his bulge as he thought, hesitating to move his hand against himself. Pretending to ponder what he could do other than this.

Reading would take too much focus and that's precisely what he did not want to do. Tired physically- but not tired enough to sleep. I see Nanami as the type to think about it for a while- toying with the idea of it for way too long.

And when he finally thinks on it long enough to start thinking about you, he'd put down his glass, palming his semi through the layers of fabric. Softly exhaling at the friction, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as his lips parted. Palming himself over his khakis as his mind flashed through images of you.

The kind of man to try and picture your face, your laugh, your features. But as a man does, his mind would trail to thoughts of what hid beneath your clothing. And if Nanami doesn’t have you, he'd try and think back to the last porn video he watched, just something to get his imagination going.

With a frustrated sigh Nanami removed his palm from his buldge, undoing the belt buckle with hurry, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding down the zipper- almost tearing it from how hurried he was to get his stiffening cock out from the fabric.

Gasping softly as his hands hesitantly pushed the band of his briefs down, greeted by his leaking cock that needed a small push to be fully erect. Wrapping his calloused fingers around his thick shaft, exhaling as his digits caressed the trail of precum oozing down his shaft. His breath picked up as his hand lazily stroked his stiff cock.

Brown eyes struggling to stay open as his lips parted ever so slightly, daring to let out low moans directly from his lungs.

Unwilling though, they rumbled from his throat as he grazed the pads of his fingers over his crying cockhead. Shivering at the ridges of his finger tips against his cockhead. This man's cock is soooo sensitive, I know it in my bones.

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried holding back the moans, tightening his grip as he stroked softly past his darkening tip. Huffing out of his nose as his other hand started undoing the buttons of his shirt, feeling his skin radiate beneath the blue fabric. Thick fingers struggling with the tiny buttons as the hand on his cock sped up with urge.

As he let the air hit his pecs, a light blush spread on his swelled chest. His lungs threatened to falter, attempting to remind himself to breathe.

Huffing heavily as his hand undid four buttons before clutching onto the edge of the couch tightly, knuckles turning white as his breathing quickened to pants. His vision went dizzy behind closed eyes picturing you, the knot in his tummy tightening little by little.

Nanami’s pink tip oozing precum assisted his tight fist as he stroked himself, a low whimper leaving his throat as his head ducked forward, muttering small curses between heavy breaths as his hips bucked into his fist lazily. Gritting his teeth as he hung his head back onto the couch. Throat dry from his heavy pants, a small shiver rumbling through his shoulders as his fist squeezed past his tip.

Nose scrunched and eyes half closed, a sliver of light invading his pupils as he pushed himself past his climax. Shoulders trembling as he slowed his hand on his cock, working himself through the high. Mouth hung open in a dry moan as the feverish seed coated his hard working hand. So much of it that it trickled down to his twitching balls.

Groaning as the mess coated his cock, feeling it soften in his palm as he stroked it slowly- eyes threatening to roll back from the oversensitivity. Heavy breaths and twitching shoulders as he overworked himself for the second time that day. Pumping his semi soft cock to try to draw out the overwhelming bliss he felt at that moment.

Holding onto his soft member as he looked down, distraught at the mess that coated his hand and his slacks. Making a note to scold you for how desperate you had him before he got up to shower. Feeling his shirt stick to his back from how worked up he was.

Suguru Geto

Established relationship, dirty talk, wakes up horny ;~;- he looks at a pic of reader with HIS SUBSTANCE on their face, spit, cursing, mentions of face fucking

With Geto I think he tries to be clean with it- in the shower or make sure to shoot his load onto something to avoid making a mess. I see him having trouble staying asleep, huffing and puffing. Tossing and turning as he tried to find a solution unconsciously. Blinking his eyes open, confused as to why he was sweating in his sleep.

Sitting up and parting his lips trying to soothe the dry mouth he woke up to. Only to look down with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, a groaning huff from his chest ignoring the tent in his boxers as he looked over at the clock. 3:45 am.

He’d lay back down and try to go back to sleep. Not wanting to find the energy to deal with the paining bulge in his boxers. Switching positions, squeezing his eyes shut as he toyed with the idea.

But you know what Geto thought was a better solution than dealing with it himself?

Looking over to the you shaped bump below the blankets, seeing you steadily breathing as he called your name once, too quiet for you to hear. Wondering why you weren't sweating just as much as he was. Huffing at your sleeping state, sitting there for a few seconds, blinking away the sparks of sleep he wasn't able to melt back into.

Looking back down to the betrayal that chose to wake him up, moving his lips to the side as he picked up his phone from his nightstand. Easing off of the bed slowly as he stepped out of the bedroom, not wanting to wake you.

Walking towards the guest bathroom- wanting to keep as many walls between you and him as possible so you wouldn't stir awake. Standing in the dim bathroom, the moon illuminating the porcelain sink as Geto unlocked his phone. Gently palming the hard on that was bulging in his boxers as though he was a teenage boy. Almost scolding himself for not being able to control himself as he slept next to you.

His eyes scanning the filthy pictures he took of you. Gripping his fingers around his clothed cock that threatened to make a mess in his boxers. Taking his hand from his bulge and holding his phone in the other. Geto’s free hand making quick work of his boxers and slipping them past his thighs, landing on the ground with a hiss from his lips at the cold air hitting his crying tip, his thumb scrolling as he tried finding the perfect picture.

Licking his bottom lip as he placed his hand on his bare pale shaft with a sigh, looking at the photo splayed in full screen on his phone. His seed coating your cheeks, your nose, and most of it on your tongue as you looked up into the camera with wonderfilled eyes. That was more than enough to pull his hand from his cock and spit onto it harshly. Not having the patience- nor caring enough to actually go get lube from the bedroom.

Teeth gritted as Geto stroked his cock- his grasp tight to make this as quick as he could. Low eyes looking directly to his phone, holding his grunts in his chest as he tucked his lip between his teeth. Working his hand against his shaft roughly, squeezing past his tip as he spread his precum down his member. The hazy state of his mind assisting with how good this felt.

Placing his brightly lit phone onto the porcelain as he gripped onto the ledge of the sink, trying his best to hold back the choked moans that he knew would be too loud for this time of night.

His hand was rough, and quick as he fondled his painful erection. Feeling his eyes roll to the back of his head as he fluttered them closed. Lips parting as a soft grunt left them, picturing you were on your knees below him, practically able to feel your warmth radiate onto his cock. So in detail that his lips taunted to form the praises he’d spout to you.

Knees threatening to buckle as he formed the words, “That's it-” he whispered, hand clutching onto the edge of the sink harshly, the tips of his fingers turning white from the lack of blood flowing to them. “Just like that.” his voice was louder- clear enough to make his cheeks tingle from the embarrassment of what he was doing right now.

Geto let out a hushed whimper from trying to contain his moans, leaning his hips over the sink as he felt himself ascend to the pinnacle he woke up to take care of. His hand made vulgar squelching from how hard he was working himself, fist so tight that he was practically strangling his cock.

Holding his fist onto the porcelain as he angled his hips higher, thrusting back and forth violently as he let out choked grunts. Treating his fist as though it was you he was mouth fucking, not his hand. Lowering his head down- strands of raven hair falling to the sides of his profile as his eyebrows knitted together, mouth hung open in a drawn out grunt. Raising his hips as he angled the tip of his cock into the sink.

Breathing in ragged breaths as he muttered a “M’cumming-” over and over again. With a louder grunt than he expected- he threw himself off the ledge of his orgasm, eyes squeezed tight as his hips refused to falter in how quickly he was thrusting into his fist.

Harsh hips slamming his cock into his hand, “That's it-” he spat through gritted teeth, mind fogged as he tried wrangling his overwhelmed senses. Feeling himself come down from the orgasm he pulled from deep in his lower tummy. His hips slowing their patternless thrusts, his bottom lip trembling as he overworked his cock.

Hesitatingly slowing his hips as his cock softened in his hand, softly humming as he eased his grip against the sink. Ragged breaths leaving his chest as he tried to contain the whimpers that he had been holding in since the beginning, his head pounding from the forced silence.

Hazy eyes looking down to the mess he spilled onto the porcelain, barely able to see it from the lack of light. Exhaling quickly as he reached the hand that was clutched on the edge of the sink to the metal knobs, watching as the water washed away his seed.

Reaching for a decorative hand towel and holding it beneath the warm water. Cleaning his shaft slowly with a hiss before washing his hands. Dying them with the matching hand towel. Tossing them into an empty hamper and lazily pulling up his briefs. Acting like this was no big deal as he walked back into the bedroom. Feeling at peace as he drifted back to sleep.

Toji Zenin

Cold showers, he feels things for reader, 2 orgasms, cursing

Another man who prefers not to make a mess, after a few attempts of jacking off in other places, Toji found it easier to get it over with in the shower. I see him as the type to Pavlov himself into associating showers with orgasms- which makes me laugh in all honesty. So much so that he thought the solution would be cold showers. But those never worked.

Slowly lathering himself with soap as he kept his eyes closed, the cold water against his skin as he thought of what he was to do after this. Making a sloppy mental checklist as his mind trailed to thoughts of you. Of the last time he saw you, and how his chest swelled knowing he was going to see you later that day earning his soft cock to respond with a mindless jump.

Water making his chest glisten, accentuating the ridges of his abs as he tried fighting off the filth that invaded his mind.

Irking his head to the side as he felt that specific warmth pool in his lower tummy. Sucking his teeth sharply as the cold water washed off the soap bubbles from his body. Cracking his eyes open in defeat, cock raising into a semi as he pushed back the hair that stuck onto his forehead. Nodding his head ‘no’ back and forth at the stupidity of his cock getting hard by just the thought of you.

Placing his calloused hand on his fat shaft, closing his eyes once more as the water provided him with more than enough lubricant. Heart pounding in his chest as his thumb rubbed against the edge of his reddening cockhead. Toji’s scarred lips pressed tightly together as he tried holding back grunts from deep in his chest.

Furrowing his eyebrows- trying to put on a farce of this not feeling like anything for no one but his pride. Toji’s mind went blank as he stroked himself, wrist turning over his tip as his other hand planted onto the wall, trying to keep his balance. Clenching his jaw as his precum blended in with the running cold water.

Toji always tried to make it quick- but his cock never agreed. Often taking 20-30 minute showers trying to make himself finish, not because he couldn't- but he'd try to think of nothing as he came. Not wanting to condition himself into actually liking you.

Trying to keep his mind blank as he fought off the conquering thoughts of you. His eyebrows threatened to unfurrow as he felt himself succumb to those heartfelt thoughts. A small grunt left Toji’s parting lips, thankful it was disguised by the running water.

Tightening the grip on his cock as he put more power behind his heavy stroked. Ducking his head as his hair stuck onto his temple, holding his hand on the wall as his lungs started panting, his fist quickening its harsh movements, mind full of the sweetest poison you planted into his brain.

“Fuckk-” Toji drew out slowly, his hand squelching past his fat tip as his abs clenched, trying to catch his breath as his unforgiving hand refused to listen to his mind.

His calves burning from how hard he was flexing his muscles- all of his focus drawn to cumming as the water pulsed against the crown of his head. Lips parted and eyebrows pinched upwards, nose crinkled as he felt the premature orgasm rip through him. Heavy pants between grunts as his seed gushed from his tip, disappearing down the drain. Mouth hung open in an ‘O’ as his hand slowed its movements.

Being able to clear his clouded mind as his fist worked him down. Catching his breath as his still hard cock pulsed in his hand. Groaning in frustration at the need to cum again. Almost spiteful, he tightened his grip once more on his cock, thighs spasming as he overstimulated his cockhead. His eyes blinked to the back of his head as he pulled his focus from his shaft to his tip.

Toji’s expression contorted into a scowl, clearer grunts leaving his rasped throat as he pulled himself into another orgasm, pushing his hand off the wall and leaning onto the cold tile. His head pressed against the damp wall as his knees dared to fold, mouth hung open once more as the cold water trickled down his searing skin.

A drawn out string of curses as his balls tightened, all but pouting, he came to the intruding thoughts of you. Practically hyperventilating as a loud grunt left his sweltering chest.

Toji’s cum oozing out of his tip, sighing contently between throaty grunts. Working himself past the pinnacle the thought of you brought him to. Cursing you mentally for how you had him. Heart pounding so hard it was painful, trying to fill his lungs with air as his mouth hung open in a soundless moan. Taking his hand from his softening cock as he leaned into the wall, swallowing harshly as he steadied his breath. Turning to face the shower head, his shaky hand reached for the body wash once more, nodding his head ‘no’ to himself as the irked feeling seeped into his mind again. Lathering up his body as he washed off the sweat that mixed with the freezing water.

I had so much fun writing this. If only y'all saw how much p0rn I watched trying to study men jorking it. my internet searches were insane bruh. the ciggie I lit after I posted this was like a reward

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buckyalpine · 10 months

Text

you know what I live for? Misunderstandings. Angst. Fluff.

You bit your lip hearing Bucky's conversation with his two closest friends, the three men sitting together in the living room. It clearly wasn't a conversation for anyone else's ears but you couldn't move from the spot you were glued to.

“I-I think I should tell y/n” Bucky sighed, pacing up and down the living room while Sam and Steve were silently judging the super soldier.

"Seriously? This little affair still going on?" Sam shook his head while Bucky gave him a small nod.

“I really like her” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Well you got tell her, no point keeping it to yourself at this point, she deserves to know. It's been going on for long enough Buck” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.

“She makes me feel safe. It’s different. I love y/n, but-" Bucky flopped onto the couch, staring up a the ridiculously high ceiling.

“But?”

“This-this is different. I-I think I love her-”

“Do you hear yourself right now” Sam said incredulously, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for him, "You brought this on yourself so deal with it"

“I know” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just-you should see the way she looks at me, her eyes, I didn't mean for it to get this far-

"Save it. Tell y/n" Steve stated, not willing for any of this to go on any longer. This wasn't the first time his bestfriend brought up this topic and he was certain it wouldn't be the last unless Bucky came clean.

You hadn't even realized you'd started crying until you struggled to choke back a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth and running off to your room instead. Bucky frowned at the soft sniffle he thought he heard, craning his neck to see an empty hallway.

"Did you hear that?" He turned to Steve who shared the same look of concern. "Fuck, do you think that was y/n?" His heart raced further, desperately wanting to run over to you, looking at the clock and realizing it was also time for him to see her. As much as he loved you, he had to go to her first.

He didn't have a choice.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your misery, your boyfriends pleading voice muffled on the other side.

"Baby?" Bucky knocked again, desperately hoping you'd let him in and give him a chance to explain himself. He never intended for any of this to happen. He finally decided to let himself in, opening the door, his heart dropping seeing your sad, pouty face, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He knew you'd overheard him so there was no point in hiding anything anymore.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out" Bucky spoke softly, shuffling at the door, guilt plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. Before you could say anything, he shifted closer to you, nervously biting his lip.

"Her name is Alpine" Tucked into the crook of his arm was a tiny white kitten no more than a few weeks old, happily cuddled into the warmth of his chest. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, blinking slowly while he cooed, seeing she was up from her nap.

"This is who you were talking to Sam and Steve about?" You asked nervously while Bucky sheepishly nodded, giving you an apologetic smile for his dramatics.

"I've been taking care of her. I know we're not allowed to have pets but I couldn't just leave her there in the cold" Bucky whispered, petting her small head with his finger while she batted at his tags. You giggled at how soft your boyfriend was for the tiny kitten, the furbaby having him wrapped around her little paws.

"I found her while I was out on a run, she was by one of the bushes. I don't think her mom came back for her, she was alone. She was so tiny, she would've died" Bucky felt his throat tighten, remembering the day he'd heard her cries from the garden, her tiny form fitting into the palm of his hand. She'd been days old, waiting for someone to find her.

"I've been feeding her every couple hours, got a box set up by the bush with some blankets but she can't stay there forever. Steve caught me checking on her a few days ago" Bucky looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping you'd understand what he was asking.

"Is this where you've been running off to?" You shook your head while he smiled down at the kitten, proud of how much she'd grown.

"Can we keep her? I don't to put her in a shelter, she'll be scared and she just got comfortable letting me hold her, I don't want her to feel abandoned-"

"We'll keep her. Let's talk to Tony tomorrow" You hushed your boyfriends nervous rambling with a soft kiss to his sweet lips, rubbing your thumb along his jaw.

"Really?" His eyes lit up, bright and blue, matching the baby that stole his heart.

"Really, you big softie" You teased, loving your teddybear of a boyfriend.

"I'm sorry I worried you" Bucky whispered, pulling you to sit in his lap, his two favorite girls cuddling into him.

"He finally came clean" Sam snorted, seeing you and Bucky sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of cat toys, with a blur of white fur jumping between the two of you. "How'd you convince Stark"

"Didn't take much to be honest" you giggled; Tony tried to put up a stoic front, melted instantly as soon as Alpine crawled up his leg, purring into the crook of his neck. "He bought her a heated cat bed and automatic food dispenser"

Alpine stretched across the warm giant couch, curling up under a patch of sun while Bucky looked at her with hearteyes.

"I have competition with a cat" You playfully frowned while Bucky shook his head, scooping you into his arms immediately.

"Never babydoll, you're my everything"

I thought I overheard you saying she's different" You nudged him while he tried to defend himself again, only to fail miserably.

"He's lying y/n, he talked about her eyes and the way she looks at him" Sam chimed in, while Bucky hid himself into the crook of your neck. "And how he thinks he loves her"

"Shut up Sam"

"Such a softie"

3K notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 8 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 11.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest.

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all.

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it.

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath.

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him.

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries.

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks.

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there.

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages.

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt.

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains.

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff.

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is; he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened.

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so.

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him.

“It was heavy,” he admits.

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss.

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away.

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all.

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says.

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them.

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other.

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting.

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open.

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think.

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything.

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him.

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily.

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu.

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative.

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons.

You look at him, waiting for his instructions.

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says.

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go.

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms.

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it.

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all.

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before.

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had.

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside.

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is.

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own.

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him.

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment.

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes.

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day.

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything.

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do.

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away.

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do.

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower.

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly. But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology.

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way.

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father.

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning.

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on.

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours.

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?”

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now.

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie.

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past.

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects.

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing.

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you.

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience.

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?”

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly.

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike.

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself.

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it.

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways.

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation.

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work.

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying.

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though.

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him.

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.”

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you.

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it.

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks.

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch.

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow.

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring.

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten.

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week.

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself.

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday.

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting.

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day.

“Does that bother you?” He follows up.

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you.

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds.

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you.

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously.

He nods anyway and asks you to continue.

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well.

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief.

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again.

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.”

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need.

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay.

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now.

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t.

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines.

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again.

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that.

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs.

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you.

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop.

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same.

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

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silencesscreams · 9 months

Note

"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii

sad beautiful tragic

james potter x fem reader (angst)

a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them

warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”

you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.

he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.

sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.

during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.

until he kissed you.

it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.

“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.

one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.

“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.

“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.

“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.

when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.

sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.

it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.

he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.

the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.

but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.

your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.

life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.

christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?

when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.

a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.

once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:

“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.

on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.

when you sat at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.

after taking a bite from your dessert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.

as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.

“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.

“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.

he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.

“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.

“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.

“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.

“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.

“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to, i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.

“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.

“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?

“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.

“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.

“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.

“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.

“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming

“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.

“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”

“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.

“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?

you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.

“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.

“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.

“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.

it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.

#james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #mrsaluado #lila writes #silencesscreams

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mrpenguinpants · 2 years

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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @openingssequence @onowie

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daycourtofficial · 8 months

Text

I’m Still Stuck in the Moment

Summary: a mistake on a mission causes you to lose your memories from the last five years, including the new mating bond between you and Azriel. Can he help you get your memories back, or will you never remember the past five years?

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Author’s note: this has been a wip since October I really hope you guys like it. It’s also my longest fic to date - so please enjoy! 💕

“Stealth missions are so boring,” Cassian states from behind you.

“Maybe that’s why you usually don’t get assigned on stealth missions, dummy,” you reply while looking through the desk drawers.

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. Sometimes Azriel talks and I just tune him out.” Cassian mimes with his hands a talking motion and rolls his eyes.

“Cassian, why are you even on this mission if you don’t know what we’re looking for and you don’t like stealth missions?” You ask not looking up at him as you search through the papers on the desk.

“Hmm,” he says, pretending to search through the papers as he drops his voice, “it’s been a while since we’ve hung out the two of us.”

You pause and turn to look at him, a big grin overtaking your face.

“You missed me,” you say, delight coating your voice.

“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, going to search a different part of the room.

You had been a part of the inner circle for about three years when the mating bond snapped into place. All throughout those three years Cassian did everything he could think of to put you and Azriel together. He’d constantly ask you two to dinner and be ‘sick’ and then magically be okay the next day. He’d force you two to sit next to each other during every dinner, solstice, lunch, breakfast, meeting. Any event where you had to sit down, you had to sit next to each other. Anytime you had to be flown somewhere, Cassian would mysteriously have flown away, leaving Azriel to fly you. The cauldron works hard, but Cassian works harder.

No one else could figure out Cassian’s borderline obsession with the two of you. Whenever Rhys or Feyre or anyone would ask him, he’d simply shrug and say “I have a hunch” or, if he was feeling particularly chatty, “I think they’d have stunning children”.

The truth was Cassian loved the both of you so much that he wanted to see you two happy. He also knew there was something between the two of you, he just didn’t know what. He was there the day you and Azriel were introduced, and he felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel someone else’s mating bond, but he could feel the potential between you two.

You laugh as you continue rifling through the desk. “You know Cassian if you want to spend time together all you had to do was ask-“

You’re cut off by a cloud of pink dust coming out of a drawer you opened and covering your face. You start coughing and backing away.

“Shit,” Cassian says, coming over to you. He starts looking you over, assessing for damage.

“I’m fine,” you say, in between coughs, “dusty old drawer.”

Cassian looks skeptical. “Yes, because pink dust is so common.”

You roll your eyes. “We’ve searched the room, there’s nothing here. Let’s go home.”

The mission debrief was short - not much to report. The two of you searched an abandoned outpost, seeing if anything of interest was left behind, finding nothing of value or interest.

You enjoyed stealth missions, but you especially loved coming home to your overly protective mate. You two had a tradition - your own personal debrief, where Azriel would inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury. Wherever you were injured, whether it be bruise, scrap, or cut, he would place long kisses on the spot.

“Better than a healer,” he’d say.

The length of the mission would determine how long the two of you stayed locked up in each other. You two usually spent double the length of the mission together uninterrupted.

Once, after a four day long mission, no one had seen either of you for a week. Rhys had to send a telepathic message to find proof of life from either of you.

That night, Azriel checked your wounds, which you’re not even sure you had any. You considered even “accidentally” cutting your finger, but decided against it.

You woke up to a dark room, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around you. Whoever it was was massive, incredibly warm, and had quite the grip on you.

You’re not crazy about casual flings, but it’s not too unheard of, especially considering you spent last night drinking with Cassian and Mor at Rita’s. Mor loved playing matchmaker with you, trying to set you up with the most eligible males she could find.

You look around the room, the realization of being naked hitting you. You spot a pile of clothes on the floor and gently lift the arm off of you and slip out from under the male. You grab the clothes, putting the shirt on first. It seems to be the mystery male’s - it’s incredibly long on you, smelling of pine and mist.

“Going somewhere?” the male asks, rising up from the bed to meet you where you stand.

“Yes, I’m uh I’m so sorry but I don’t remember getting here, so I’m just going to head home.” You say, walking backwards towards the door. As the male comes closer, you recognize him.

“Azriel?” You ask.

“Yes, who else would I be?” Azriel replies, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes, “come back to bed, you’re probably just confused after a dream.”

“Uh, wow, um I-“ you dart your eyes around the room “I’m so sorry but I don’t remember how I got here, let me go back to my room.”

He stops, all signs of playfulness gone. “You don’t have a room. This is your room. This is our room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sweetheart, you moved into my room a few years ago. Your room is just another guest room now.”

You blush at the nickname. Despite your best efforts, he had hardly said much to you in the time you’ve known him. Despite the nickname, the weight of his words starts to settle on you.

“Um, no I have a room here. This isn’t a very good joke, Az.” You say, opening the door to go to your room across the hall. Your feet carry you to your room, your hand resting on the knob as Azriel reaches for you, calling for you. You’re not sure why there’s such confusion in his tone. You open the door to what used to be your room, only to find it devoid of any signs you had lived in it.

The room looked like it had the day you moved in, sans the welcome basket Feyre and Rhys had assembled for you and left on the bed. The blue barren walls stare back at you, the four poster bed neatly made.

No hearth in the fire, no books on the nightstand, no flowers on the desk. Even your beloved stuffed wolf that Cassian teased you about was nowhere to be seen.

“Azriel, where is my stuff?”

Azriel stares at you, in utter shock and disbelief. He grabs your hand, leading you through the house. You’re forced to follow him, due to both his tight but gentle grip on you and your curiosity at where all of your things went. The sounds of his footsteps echo through the hall, a level of noise you’ve never heard from him. Usually he glides through these halls, not a trace of noise made to alert anyone of his presence.

“Azriel, what’s wrong?” You keep asking, and he won’t reply until you’re face to face with Rhys’s bedroom door, where Azriel starts banging fiercely on it.

Cassian is the first to poke his head out, his door down the hall from Rhys’s. Once he sees Azriel is the one causing all the commotion, he comes out into the hall, looking around for any unseen threats.

Rhys opens the door, a pair of sweatpants hastily put on as he allows the three of you entry. You assume Rhys had the same reaction to Cassian, annoyance quickly changing to concern at Azriel’s tone.

You assume that Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre are all communicating telepathically because it is dead silent in the room until Feyre comes up and tells you to have a seat in one of their chairs by the fire.

“Okay, now tell me, what happened?” Rhys asked, putting his hands on your shoulders in reassurance.

“Well I um think I’m missing a few pieces but uh last night I went to Rita’s with Cassian and Mor, I got pretty drunk, and I woke up naked in Azriel’s room. I woke up, I tried to leave, only to find out my room is gone.”

Cassian looks at you, concern etching his face, “we went to Rita’s?” He asks, pointing a finger between you and him.

“Yeah,” you say, “you had been out to see Devlen and when you came back you asked if Mor and I wanted to go out with you. No one else was here.” You look to Feyre and Rhys, becoming even more confused. “Why are you guys all back so early?”

“What do you mean “back early”?”

“Well, Azriel had some mission on the continent, and Feyre and Rhys were visiting the summer court with Amren.”

“Mother help us,” Cassian muttered, as he realized his error, dragging a hand across his face. “On our mission yesterday, she breathed in an unknown powder. It had slipped my mind, she seemed so fine, I didn’t think anything of it.”

You could feel the anger vibrating off of Azriel as he turned to Cassian, spitting “What do you mean you didn’t think anything of it? You didn’t think anything of my mate on your mission?”

Azriel’s words don’t register with you as you were too focused on Cassian’s. “But I didn’t go on any missions yesterday. I spent the day at the library, doing research. Cassian found me, asked me to go to Rita’s, and I told him I’d pay for all of his drinks if he went down to the bottom level of the library.”

“Oh, Mother.” Cassian muttered. “Let’s stop for a moment.” Rhys said, crouching in front of you. His violet eyes shone with kindness and concern as he tells you, “Feyre and I went to the summer court with Amren five years ago.”

“That’s not possible” you scoff, “you guys just left three days ago.”

You look towards Azriel, his usual stoicism a thing of comfort in times like this. Instead you’re met with deep despair as he looks back at you, and somehow you can feel that despair deep in your chest.

Rhys moves away from you as Azriel walks towards you and crouches down in front of you, looking at you like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hands, “Sweetheart,” he starts, “what am I to you?”

Your cheeks flare with heat. You start stammering, his gaze overwhelming. He wants some specific answer, this you know. His gaze is piercing and you can’t look away.

“When we were in the summer court,” Feyre starts musing, “that was… before, right?”

“Before what?” You ask, while Azriel nods his head, confirming Feyre’s question.

The room has grown silent again, before Azriel takes your hands and says “before we became mates.”

Your cheeks are on fire now, wishing you could be having this conversation in private, instead of in front of your family.

“Wait, is that why you came back early? You realized we were mates when you were on the continent?” You whisper the last part as of it’s a secret.

As if Azriel’s face couldn’t show you anymore devastation, he replies, “Sweetheart, we’ve been mated for two years.”

You couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry,” you say, “have you been keeping it from me for two years? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rhys steps in, sparing Azriel the pain of further explaining this to you, “you two have been mates for two years. The war with Hybern is over.”

You look into everyone’s eyes, trying to find a trace of humor, “this isn’t a funny joke, it’s quite cruel.”

“No one is joking,” Cassian says. You stand up, beginning to pace the room.

“No no no, you have to be, because either Mor thought this would be a funny joke because of my crush on Azriel or I’ve forgotten the last five years of my life, including getting a mate and surviving the war.”

You look around the room, everyone looking at either you or Azriel, not a trace of humor in the room.

“This has to be a joke because how cruel would it be for Azriel to find a mate just for them to forget everything about him. Five years! Five years of my life are gone! Up to this point in time, Azriel has said maybe five words to me!”

You are hyperventilating by this point, pacing the room, shaking.

“Rhys,” Azriel says, “please.”

Rhys envelops you in a hug, and everything goes dark for you as you slump into his arms. He picks you up, gently laying you on their couch, draping a blanket over you.

Everyone in the room is just staring at you, praying for you to just jump up and tell them this was all a joke. Azriel just sits on the floor next to you, holding your hand, tears streaming down his face.

“I-“ he starts saying quietly, “I-uh I always wondered how the Cauldron would make me suffer for making her my mate. I always knew it would take her away from me in the end, but not like this. I never could have dreamt of this outcome. I never.. never could have imagined how painful it’d be to see her forget me.”

No one is dry-eyed. Everyone is devastated for you, but especially for Azriel. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys leave the bedroom, allowing Azriel to stay with you while Rhys keeps you under. They all head to Rhys’ study.

“There is some good news in this.”

Cassian and Feyre snap their heads to look at him, urging him to continue.

“When I was in her mind to sedate her, I could tell she still had memories of the past five years. Some of them were memories so ingrained to her that she has no idea what they are. Another thing is that I could tell the memories were there, they’re just… locked up.”

“Locked up? Like a prisoner?” Feyre asks.

“Yes,” Rhys replies, “like a prisoner.”

“So this powder is keeping her memories hostage?”

He sighs, looking towards the door, thinking about his brother’s face. “It would appear that way.”

Madja was called to look over you in your unconscious state, and after she found nothing wrong, they decided to wake you back up.

While you were unconscious, they decided that Mor and Cassian would watch over you unless you ask otherwise. Rhys wakes you up gently, asking if you need anything. After you decline, he leaves you alone with Mor and Cassian.

“So, um..” you start, not sure where to begin. “Five years?”

Mor nods.

“The war is over?”

Cassian smiles solemnly and nods.

“And Az and I?”

Cassian’s grin widens as he looks at you, thinking about the love you share with his brother. You play with your thumbs, unsure what to ask.

“What do you guys, uh, think of us? Do we seem happy?”

Cassian snorts while Mor replies, “oh we adore the two of you. Cassian is convinced he knew of your mating bond the day you two met.”

Cassian puffs out his chest in pride. “I most certainly knew, years before they did.”

“What made you know?” You ask, curiosity filling your eyes as you sat up.

“Well,” Cassian says, “the two of you didn’t interact much the first few years. Azriel needs time to warm up to people, and he’s worried he’ll scare people off if he comes on too strong. But I could just tell that he so desperately wanted to be your friend.”

“Hmm,” you muse, looking at Cassian in a confused way, “I always assumed he didn’t like me.”

Cassian looks at you quizzically, “and why is that?”

You sigh. “I always thought he found me�� too soft. Too delicate.” You look out the window, and Cassian feels a pang of guilt. He knew Azriel could be a bit icy at times, but he hadn’t remembered what it felt like to not have that friendship.

Cassian studies you, “Why’d you think that?”

“I don’t know, it was just little things, I suppose. He’d never laugh at my jokes or talk to me much. Once you had paired us to be sparring partners and he just told you no and walked away to work with someone else.”

You remember a version of Azriel who hardly knew you. You’ve been placed in time right before Cassian started forcing you two to spend time together. For you, Azriel is practically a stranger.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, “I don’t know him,” you say, “but it’s like my body knows him. I don’t.. know him.”

You take a deep breath, looking around the room to avoid Cassian’s sad face. “But I want him here. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the bond, but I just… want him here.”

You look down sighing, “I feel so bad that this is happening to him, he doesn’t deserve this. Even if I don’t know him.”

Cassian didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but he was wrong. Watching you cry over Azriel’s predicament but not your own gutted him. He moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry for a while.

After several hours of sitting with Mor and Cassian, Elain had recommended you get some fresh air, take a walk in the gardens. You ask if Azriel can join you, so he is staying near you, keeping an eye on you, but not too close.

You walked slowly, not sure if you wanted Azriel to catch up to you or to stay back. You felt gutted that this would happen to Azriel, despite your next to non-existent relationship with him up to this point.

The male trailed behind you, keeping the same distance in spite of your constantly changing pace. Your thoughts whirled and swirled, much like the shadows that dance around your mate. Your mate. You have a mate. And he’s here. That realization caused you to take some deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from spiraling into a panic.

Your brain can’t recall these things, but your body calls for him, wanting you to reach out and grab his hand. It is telling you that you stand on his left normally, allowing free range of motion for his dominant hand. It is telling you to let him lay on top of you, resting his head on your chest while he dozes off to nap. It is telling you to reach out and cup his jaw, that he will smile as you do so and pull you closer to him.

You don’t have memories of him, you have imprints of him, leaving whispers into your skin of how you were made for him. The yearning becomes too much and you need to hear him, so you turn to him and ask, “who did it snap for first?”

He blinks, a bit taken aback by your talking to him. He hasn’t heard you speak since the realization in Rhys’s office, much less speak to him directly. He takes longer strides, catching up to you quickly. He clears his throat and looks at you, “it snapped for me first, and I got to watch it snap for you.”

A soft smile graces his lips as he recalls the moment, so clearly in his memories he wishes he could send it directly to you. He can, he thinks, deciding that if you don’t have your memories, he’ll provide them for you.

“I bought you a locket for your birthday. A bit presumptuous, I know, but I had Feyre do a tiny portrait of myself to put in the locket. I also had a tiny piece of one of my siphons placed in the center so you could carry a piece of me everywhere.

“Your face lit up, but I was so nervous. I was trembling as I gave it to you. I almost dropped it when you asked me to clasp it around your neck. You hugged me so tightly, the locket pressing to my chest siphon and my siphon glowed.”

He smiles and reaches for your hand out of instinct, and you don’t pull away. When he notices what he’s done, he goes to retract his hand, but you clasp onto him harder.

“You had told me you would carry your loved ones in your pocket if you could and I got you the closest thing I could to that. I also had a shadow stay in the locket, they rotate who gets to be in the locket, but they like being close to you too. And in case of emergency they can slip out and find me.”

He pulls at the collar of his shirt, pulling out his own chain with a heart locket at the end. “You gave me one a week later. No siphon, but you used some of your light magic to embue a tiny stone so that it will glow forever.”

The locket looks so familiar, as if it was in a fairy tale you had read as a child. Your hand twitches, as if it wants to touch the locket. “You gave me the locket and when you saw it on my chest, your eyes lit up and I could feel you in my chest.”

You motion to a bench in the garden, and the two of you sit underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree, its petals falling in the wind.

He moves his collar to tuck the necklace back in, pats it to his chest, then asks, “I’m guessing this is a lot to take in?”

You nod, “I mean it’s just been what five years? I have a hot mate that up until now he’s had no idea I’m hopelessly in love with him, the war is over, I missed Feyre and Rhys’s mating ceremony. It’s all sunshines and rainbows.”

He looks at you, “if it makes you feel better, they snuck out and did the ceremony in secret.”

He hears you grumble, “bastards” under your breath, making him chuckle.

“As for the hot mate who had no idea you were in love with him,” he pauses, watching your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “he was the same way.”

You gape at him, hitting him on the shoulder, “don’t tell me things just to try to make me feel better!”

He laughs, “I’m not lying!”

You scoff, “You’ve spoken to me three times! One of those times you had asked me to move.”

He looks down, “okay maybe I wasn’t great at conveying it to you, but I thought about you constantly.”

You scoff again, thumping his chest, “you did not!”

“I did so!” He replies, just as childishly as you, “I spent so much of my energy trying to keep my shadows from harassing you at all hours. They kept pulling me, trying to coerce me into rooms you were in.”

He turns to look at you, your eyes a gateway to the before.

“I thought you were so pretty when you first showed up, I forgot how to breathe.”

Your cheeks heat as you look down at the ground, Azriel’s undivided attention being too much.

You look up at him, “okay, well if you were soooo in love with me, how come you refused to spar with me?”

You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the shadowsinger next to you, unable to believe that he’s your mate.

His wings flare ever so slightly, as he quietly tells you, “because being that close to you was too much.”

You look at him quizically, not quite getting what he’s referencing.

Azriel, for all his credit, is trying to be as coy as possible. The you from the present has an absolutely filthy mouth, the dirty talk between you two could strip paint off of walls. But this version of you? It feels wrong, violating almost. You’re not some innocent doe, far from it, but the way you two speak now was built on years of trust, a foundation that doesn’t exist for the version of you he’s looking at.

He sighs, coughing as he says, “I knew if I were to get that close to you, I’d have a hard time and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth, giggling. “Aww the big, scary shadowsinger is afraid he’ll get a hard on while sparring. Do you have these fears with anyone else? Cassian, perhaps?”

He laughs, the first genuine laugh since you woke up yesterday morning. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that concern with him.” He shakes his head, “but also Cassian isn’t a pretty female.”

You smile, “no, I guess not. He’s not pretty, not like you.” You clamp your mouth shut, despite knowing you’ve been seeing him for years. Parts of you know this, but other parts feel the newness, the uncertainty.

He smiles, looking at you through the side of his eye. “You think I’m pretty?” It’s a sentiment you’ve told him before, but this version of you thinking it too is fascinating.

“Oh yeah, prettiest male I’ve ever seen.” You blush, deciding to tell him everything, “I uh- I asked Mor to make sure I can always sit next to you when we go out.”

Your confession causes him to pause, something he never knew about you. “Oh?” He asks, curious about this new information.

“Yeah, once she even pushed Cassian out of a seat so I could make it in time.” You laugh, remembering the shock on his face as he laid on the ground and you quickly grabbed his seat. “I thought if I sat next to you, you’d uh- fall in love with me.” You rush out the last part, your voice going quiet.

“But uh, I actually told her to forget about it, just last night. Or whenever that was….” You trail off, remembering your current predicament.

But Azriel was stuck in the past, stuck on your latest admission. “Wait, why did you tell her to let it go?”

You sigh, picking up a dandelion out of the grass, “well, I’d try really hard to get you to notice me or talk to me, but you never did.” You pick at the petals of the flower. “I figured I was annoying you, or you hated that I was keeping other girls from being able to chat you up. So I told her to let it go.”

Azriel balks at your admission, having no idea the extent of his effect on you. “I had no idea how to talk to you! You were so pretty, especially whenever we were at Rita’s.” He sighs, remembering how he’d overanalyze how to reapond to you, only to never say anything.

“It wasn’t until… Cassian.” He pauses, trailing off. “Cassian what?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest at the slight breeze.

“Cassian told me he spent a lot of time trying to seat us next to each other, to get me to talk to you. I wonder if he… got the idea after talking to you last night about it.”

You shake your head, “no, I only told Mor that - no way he knows.”

Azriel looks at you, “And how is the biggest gossip and busybody you know?”

Your eyes widen, realization hitting you, “oh my god,” you whine. “He heard me! He heard how pathetic I am!”

Azriel rolls his eyes, but you continue, “I was so drunk! I kept talking about you - and how you smell, and your hands, and your legs, oh my god.”

Your cheeks flare in heat, and your voice drops to a whisper. “I told Mor I had a dirty dream about you the other day - in detail!”

He smirks, “and what were we doing in this dirty dream?”

Your cheeks flame tomato red, as he laughs at you. “I guarantee you, sweetheart, whatever it was, we’ve done dirtier.”

He’s always enjoyed making you flustered, but this is an opportunity to fluster past you, one he will not let go to waste.

“About that,” you start, a sheepish grin adorning the cherry red of your cheeks. “How is our sex life? Is it good?” You ask, your voice lowered.

He laughs, “we make Cassian look like a prude with the amount of sex we have.” You gasp, approval for this future version of yourself. He leans in close to your ear, and whispers, “genuinely the best sex of my life.”

You bite your lip, but he continues. “Our general rule is for every night I’m gone on a mission, when I come back I have to make you finish at least once per day I’m gone.”

He chuckles low, the memory coming to him so easily. “I was once gone for twelve nights.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. “And yes, all in one night.”

Your eyes widen, and you take a quick glimpse down towards his crotch. He watches you check him out, a smile ghosting on his lips.

You spent several days like that, most of your time spent with Azriel. You asked him about your lives together - where you two lived, what your days looked like together, what your lives with the Inner Circle looked like.

“Have I been able to convince you to take a day off?” You ask, the two of you eating at your favorite cafe in Velaris. Rhys had encouraged you to explore the city, hopeful it’s constant changing is able to jog something in you.

He smiles at you, chewing his croissant. “Actually, yes.” He says after swallowing. “We actually took a vacation to Summer during this past winter.”

You gasp, your eyes widening in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Summer! How was it? Did we see any mermaids?”

He chuckles, “no, much to your disappointment.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to see a mermaid.”

He smiles at your childish antics, looking at your pouting face. He still couldn’t process it - this was you, but it wasn’t his mate. You weren’t taking a bite of his croissant for yourself, you weren’t touching his knee with yours, you weren’t making up terrible excuses to hold his hand in yours.

Looking at you was excruciating, questions plagueing his mind as he looked. Will you ever remember him? Your life together? The late nights, the early mornings, the small moments that made up your relationship?

Or were you destined to be this past version of yourself forever? Would you develop new habits? Would you even fall in love with him, this version of himself who knows everything about you?

“Did we have a mating ceremony?”

He’s jolted back to the present, his mind finding itself in the past that your mind resides in. He smiles, warmth flooding his heart at the meer mention of that day. He gazes at you, telling you all about it. How all of Velaris loved you so much the town was covered in flowers, much to Cassian’s annoyance.

“I was so nervous, the whole day my hands kept shaking. The minutes before I saw you it got so bad my wings started shaking.”

“Why were you nervous?”

He breathes in deeply, surprised that tidbit came out of his mouth. He had never told you how nervous he had been - he didn’t want you to misconstrue it as reservations about you or your relationship.

He exhales, looking at his empty plate. “Being so vulnerable so publicly, declaring for everyone to know that I am yours and you are mine, felt so… intimidating.”

He grabs a napkin and starts shredding it, an effort to keep his hands occupied to keep them from shaking like they did that day. The shadowsinger rarely showed such nerves, but he always allowed you to see past the cool exterior he usually wore. “I was so scared. No one has ever loved me as openly as you do. My brothers love me, Feyre, Nesta, Mor - they love me. Elain, the Valkyries. All of them love me, but you wear your love on your sleeve. It’s practically on your face.”

He laughs as your hands reach up to your face, as if there was some physical marking there conveying your deep love.

“I’ve never had that. It made me a little scared.”

Without meaning to your hand reaches out to his, halting his napkin shredding. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since you woke up five days ago, and it lights Azriel’s heart aglow. He hadn’t realized how much he had been needing your soothing touch, the one way to know you were here with him.

He doesn’t move, allowing you to process what you’ve done as you see fit. He expects you to pull your hand back, retreating back into yourself as you used to do in the early stages of your relationship.

Your hand stays on his, your eyes meeting his. Your thumb grazes over the scarred skin, as if you could soothe the injury from centuries ago with a delicate touch.

It is quiet between you two, the sounds of the other patrons filling his ears. The soft clinking of spoons on plates, the murmured chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor.

You’re looking at him like you know him, like you remember it all. He feels his heart in his throat, hoping to hear those words from you. You open your mouth and tell him, “I’m sure I was nervous too.”

The moment is gone, you pull your hand away to stir your coffee once more. Suddenly the patrons are too loud, their conversations too idiotic, the smell of the coffee is overwhelming.

A few days later you wake up to an empty bed in a room you aren’t familiar with. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in Azriel’s room.

Your room.

The room around you is proof that this wasn’t a dream, despite almost two weeks having passed since your memory was lost. You get up, your nightgown grazing your thighs as you take in the room. You walk in front of the bookshelves, fingers grazing the titles.

Azriel really likes detective novels, you think. You’re continuing through when you find some unmarked books. Opening them, you find your own handwriting back at you.

Entries dated 2 years into your future, 3 years in your past. You’re skimming through the journal, Cassian having done something to annoy you to write several paragraphs until you find a new paragraph.

“Azriel.

Azriel is my mate. My mate. He gave me a locket. We stood on the balcony, just watching the stars. He told me about how the stars led him through the depths of his childhood, and how he would spend most of his nights gazing at the moon, hoping, praying for better days.

“Did you find better days?” I had asked him, and he told me, “I found you, didn’t I?”

You shut the notebook, Azriel’s words invading your sense.

“I found you, didn’t I?”

You hear his voice and are transported back, back to that rooftop, back to that cool night where he laid everything bare for you. That cool night where he draped his wings over you to keep you warm, to keep you wrapped in his arms.

You two spent all night on that roof, talking, making out like two teenagers, staying until the sun began to rose and the citizens of Velaris began waking.

You can smell the scent of cedar and mist, a smell you recognize as Azriel. You can see the slight pink hue dusting his cheeks as you kissed his face, littering his cheeks with dozens of kisses.

It all comes flooding back to you as you drop your journal, racing out of your room. You take the stairs down, searching, needing to hold him.

Him.

Your precious mate.

The male who holds an infinite amount of patience for you.

You see him as you round the corner of the kitchen, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you with a soft oof as your legs wrap around his waist. He holds you there, breathing you in, and you whisper in his ear, “I found you, didn’t I?”

Azriel grip on you tightens, a soft sob escaping him as clutches you, holding you like the world could be collapsing around him and it wouldn’t matter.

“I would have done everything to make you fall in love with me again,” he tells you, kissing your cheeks, his tears mixing with yours.

“And I would have kept falling in love with you.” You grab his face, and kiss him, pouring everything into it and down the bond. He responds with his own love and adoration down the bond, his lips soft and delicate against yours as he does so.

You two hear a groan from the doorway, but don’t pull apart. “We make food in here!” Cassian groans, stepping past you two, “go somewhere else!” He picks up a piece of a cookie and throws it at you, hitting you in the forehead.

You grumble, turning to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your lips. Cassian gasps, “you remember!”

You jump off of Azriel and start running towards Cassian, throwing bits of cookie at him as he runs away, “I remember you telling my mate you wish it was your memories gone so you wouldn’t have to be reminded how annoying I am!”

You chase him around the house, threatening him as you do so, until Azriel reached an arm out, pulling you into his chest, and just holds you there.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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