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Mutual Help | #58
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, suggestive content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 20.1k+
⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢
The first issue happens shortly after your shenanigans with Jungkook.
Everything has been dealt with regarding your planned and first official vacation. Accommodation, flight tickets, even some of the activities all of you have agreed on. While you had enough time to dwell back into your working life (Jungkook free to some extent), each day has become closer to the D-day.
You're not going to lie. You're excited to get out of Seoul – as much as you love the city – and experience some fun memories with your friends. With them, you will have the time of your lives. However, all plans come crashing down with a single message from Jimin.
For some reason, his previous planned holiday is canceled by his boss himself. They're low on the employees and there's nothing else that could be done.
“Maybe there will be a last minute change but I don't think that's gonna happen. I think I should cancel my flight tickets while I can.” Is what he said through a message.
Taehyung was the one who took it the worst. To explain it correctly, Taehyung cursed the shit out of Jimin's boss and how devilish it is of him to ruin the holiday. Holiday without Jimin sounds sad and suddenly, none of it seems as exciting as you once thought.
Perhaps the reason behind your sulky mood is the fact that you don't like when something is not going according to plans. Or more like – you're excited about something, already imagining and having a certain vision of things when it suddenly gets ruined. Funnily enough, Jimin is the one who takes it the best. He laughed and joked about it, though he surely does feel a little upset by the sudden changes.
Nobody wants their summer holiday to get taken away, especially when he has to be working instead. Jimin insists all of you should go regardless of his absence when the idea of trying to get another date comes to the surface. Though, that's even trickier when three people have to change their already confirmed and planned holidays. There are your co-workers who have scheduled free days too. To say it shortly – it's not easy at all and would bring more trouble than good.
Even Jungkook who's his own boss has scheduled photoshoots and overall work. He could possibly cancel it, but that would bring no good to his name and business. Plus, he would lose money obviously.
Jimin stays positive and prays that maybe someone from their team will come to the rescue.
It's a little more than two weeks before your planned vacation. You're in the middle of folding your freshly washed and dried clothes while Jungkook's humming can be heard in the background. You video-chat him, giving him advice on what clothes to give away to charity. Something he has been doing for a while now.
Taehyung would tell him to sell everything and Jimin would tell him to give away everything. You, on the contrary, can reason with him. The piece of clothing he hasn't worn for the last year is good to go, because he will probably never wear it again. It's why you help him with that instead of any of the guys.
After that is done, you just casually chat which to be honest, you're glad for. It's not like you haven't done that in a long time, but it feels way more calm than anything you've done for the past few months. It's a nice change compared to your wild thoughts. You just can't bring yourself to dwell on it – because you're going to lose it.
“Oh found this one just now,” Jungkook says, cutting off your thoughts which is probably for the best.
You look at him, his phone propped on his kitchen counter and from the looks of it, you can just imagine the device leaned against his bowl of fruit. He stands with a leather jacket in his arms, showing it off so you could see it better. Little does he know, that article of clothing is not one to be forgotten.
“What do you think?”
“You want to give it away?” you almost gasp, hands on your hips with a mouth agape.
“Why not?”
“Because it's the legendary jacket, you can't just give it away.” you protest, seeing him blink at you a few times before he bursts out into the cutest fit of laughter.
Teeth on display, nose scrunched along with the ends of his eyes, he laughs. “Legendary jacket? What are you even talking about?”
You pout, rolling your eyes at him.
“It's just a regular leather jacket. Everyone's got one of these.”
“That might be true,” you start, Jungkook's eyes wide as he teasingly nods, motioning that he's listening. “But it looks way too good. Plus, you wear it often, right?”
God, you hope he does. Now is not the time to thirst over him and how fucking good he looks in that stupid jacket, but well… that's exactly what's happening right now.
“I haven't worn it in a while, it's too hot for it.”
“See? You will wear it once it's colder. Keep it.”
Jungkook stares at the jacket for a moment, his eyes glinting and watching the screen where you're currently finishing up folding your clothes. With a tiny smirk, he places the jacket to the side and leans against the counter. His forearms rest on it, head cocking to the side.
“I can't believe Jimin is not going with us.” Jungkook admits, mouth curling into a displaying frown which you immediately mirror without even looking at him.
Sitting on the couch with your phone in your hand, you sigh disappointedly. “Don't even mention it. I'm so upset over that. Honestly, what a stupid boss.”
“It happens here a lot though.”
“I know,” you whine, “But still. It ruined our plans and I feel so bad for him. We're gonna have fun and he will have to stay here and work. It won't be a proper vacation without him there. It was supposed to be all of us.”
“Jimin wants us to have fun.” he responds with a soft tone, thinking of the stupid situation himself.
“It's not gonna be it when he's not there.”
“It fucking sucks,” Jungkook sighs. “Maybe he'll be able to join us last minute.”
“I doubt it,” you frown, Jungkook snickering at your pessimistic self as you give him a glare, knowing exactly why he's laughing. “He would have to get his flight tickets at the last minute, plus his accommodation is already canceled. What if the place we'll stay at won't have any free space?”
“There's a couch, he could sleep there.” he shrugs.
“Nah, flight tickets would be a problem. It's vacation season.”
“Or maybe he will be glad to spend some time with his girlfriend.”
You frown, “Not wanting to pull out Taehyung but he's with her almost all the time.”
“And how would you know that?” Jungkook chuckles.
“Well, when he's not working or with us, he's obviously with her.”
Jungkook keeps grinning, not really having any argument because he knows you're right.
“You sound like Taehyung.” he teases.
“Oh fuck off!” You both laugh. “It's true though.”
“It is. Can you blame him?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I had a girlfriend I would wanna be with her too.”
You frown at that again, staring at Jungkook on your screen who seems to shrug innocently. “But Jimin was excited to go to Hawaii.”
“Yes,” he says slowly, “I'm just saying that even if he's not going, he would spend time with his girlfriend and he would enjoy it either way. So no need to be too sad for him. He himself isn't too upset with it.”
“Men,” you sigh, “You all think of pussies.”
“Y/N!” Jungkook almost chokes at your honesty.
“What? Just sayin',” you mutter, “This is important, Kook.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I was just trying to make you not feel so bad for him. He will be fine. He's a big boy.”
You snicker, “It's a bummer.”
“I know, but I promise you… we will have a good time. Even if it's just three of us.”
“Yeah, I know that–” you mutter, pouting. “Just will miss Jimin there.”
“Speaking of the devil, he's calling me.” Jungkook says, eyes attached to the top of his screen. “I will just call him after this.”
You cackle.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Come on now,” he groans, “It's impolite to end a call just like that.”
“Just admit you love talking to me.”
He rolls his eyes, laughing as he keeps grinning at the screen. Your own mouth turning upwards as something within your chest tickles. “I do.”
He admits and that something bursts. You freaking look away with a smile, almost too close to giggling loudly like a freaking teenager. You stop yourself, clearing your throat.
“You should've seen your face,” he suddenly bursts out laughing. “What was that? Do I make you flustered, Y/L/N?”
“You wish, Jeon.” you spit jokingly right away, your senses acting automatically.
He suddenly sneezes, loudly and forcingly, your head tilting to the side as he lifts up his gaze, eyes mischievous as a teasing grin makes it onto his face again. “I'm sorry, I'm allergic to your bullshit.”
You gasp loudly, “You piece of shit. I'll get you back for that, Jeon.”
“Yeah, wonder how,” he teases cheekily, “Why's Jimin still calling me? Wait hold on–”
He grabs his phone, tapping something there as you get another angle of his face.
“This angle is funny. Too bad I can't see your double-chin. This could be my payback.” you joke, Jungkook clearly too immersed in reading something to pay you his full attention.
You purse your lips. “Hello? I'm trying to be funny here.”
His eyes widen, your smile dropping.
“Kook?”
“Holy shit,”
“What?”
“Fuck, fuck,” He stands up, almost dropping his phone. “Jimin just texted me–Taehyung is in the hospital.”
“What?!” You yell, standing up abruptly as you clutch the phone in your hands. “Jungkook, talk to me! What happened?”
“I literally don't know!” he exclaims. “Jimin just got the call and tried to reach us.”
“Us? He didn't call me!” you panic, checking your notifications to see them empty. Fuck. You would not forgive yourself if you somehow ignored his messages, even though it wouldn't be entirely your fault.
“Fuck, we need to get there. He's going there right now.”
“Is it serious?” you ask, voice shaking at the thought of Taehyung and something happening to him. He's in a hospital which means it's something serious.
Jungkook stops pacing, hearing the shakiness in your voice. Bringing the phone closer to his face, he watches you. “I'll come get you, alright?”
You nibble on your nails, nodding still staring ahead of you.
“Y/N,” Jungkook calls out to you. “He's gonna be okay, alright?”
“You don't know that.” you scoff.
“We don't know any details, so let's not jump into conclusions, okay? Just wait there, alright? I will drive to your place right now.”
“Where would I go?” you exclaim, clearly stressed which Jungkook doesn't blame you for. Instead of calling you out for your attitude, he knows you're worried and stressed.
“Just don't drive anywhere.”
“I won't.” you promise, voice softening.
“I will call you once I'm there. Don't go outside, it's too late.”
“Jungkook, stop worrying so much.”
He groans, grabbing his keys as the screen keeps glitching here and there how quickly he's moving. “It's too late. Wait inside.”
“Okay, sir.” you mutter dryly, Jungkook stopping just to glare at you.
“Stop messing around. I am not.”
“Jesus, sorry.”
He rolls his eyes. “Keep your pretty ass in your home. I'll call you when I get there.”
“Then get your pretty ass here, Jeon.” you roll your eyes to give back at him.
He sighs, closing his front door with a loud thud. The connection glitches for a second, his internet changing to his mobile data as he waits for the elevator. “Fuck it.” You hear him muttering, running for the stairs.
You keep pacing in your living room, biting off your nails while not having Taehyung beside you to scold you for doing so. Your heart clenches and worry overcomes you once again. It's Jungkook's car door closing that brings your attention back, watching him put his phone into the phone holder.
“Kook?”
“Hm?” he says, putting on his seatbelt as he turns on the engine.
“Drive safely, okay?”
“I will,” he promises, but you keep giving him the same desperate look. “I promise.”
You smile nervously, ending the call just to be met with a spam of messages from Jimin.
Jungkook comes shortly after, just enough for you to check all the lights and gas before you leave. He definitely drove over the speed limit but you don't dare to scold him once he calls you. You spot the familiar Mercedes slowing down the parking lot just as your phone rings. Just like he wanted, you stayed inside. Knowing there's a low chance of something happening to you – considering this neighborhood is pretty much safe and you've walked when it was way later than now – you also know he cares about your safety, so you didn't feel like disobeying his direct orders. Or more like a plea that would end up in a frustrating scolding if you didn't listen to him.
Once you get inside the car, you buckle your seatbelt and Jungkook speeds out of the parking lot, rushing to the hospital where Jimin texted him details.
“Jimin is there.”
“What happened? Did he tell you?”
Jungkook shakes his head, checking on you for a split second before his eyes are back on the road. “No, he's still waiting.”
Luckily, the hospital where Taehyung's at is not that far away and it takes you approximately around fifteen minutes to get there, with all the red lights you had to stop at.
You've never had to go to a hospital here because something happened to one of your friends. To go through this and watch how Jungkook says Taehyung's name at the reception, trying to get any information doesn't sit with you well. You're full of nerves, sticking to Jungkook's side as he handles everything by himself. The nurse questions your relation to Taehyung but luckily, has no problem giving you directions of where to find your friend.
“Couldn't she tell us if he's alive?” you grumble beside Jungkook as he tries to follow her directions from before.
Jungkook chuckles, “If he wasn't, she wouldn't just tell us where to find him.”
Sighing, you follow Jungkook the entire time. “Have you been here before?” you question him in the elevator, a suspicious, curious look glinting in your eyes where worry was found before.
Jungkook gives you a side-glance, sighing before looking ahead. “I have.”
When he doesn't elaborate and is silent, you lean yourself forward to catch his eyes. “When?”
He straightens his posture.
“It's just because you kinda know your way around here.”
You don't remember him mentioning being hospitalized here, nor coming here for examinations. There's a chance you simply don't know about that. There might be things you haven't told each other, it's practically impossible knowing everything about each other. But you feel if it came to this topic, you would know about it.
But you don't.
“I was here with Kiko.”
You halt, a taken back expression taking over your face.
“And because of Kiko.” He adds, clearing his throat at the mention of his ex. Almost as if you would bite off his head just for mentioning her name.
You chuckle at that. “Oh, I didn't know that.”
“Yeah, didn't think of mentioning it before.” he mutters.
“Was she hospitalized here?”
“Do you really wanna know or you're just nosy?” he teases, wiggling his brow at you as you roll your eyes.
“Just answer, Jeon.”
“My curious delicate flower,” he continues to tease, ruffling your hair in the process as you elbow him in the ribs. “She had something with her shoulder once, she went here for rehabilitation.”
“Oh,” you let out slowly. “Was she fine after that?”
Feeling a burn of someone's gaze, you see Jungkook side-eyeing you. “Don't pretend like you care.” he chuckles, shaking his head at you as you smack your lips at him in annoyance.
“I wanna know! Stop making it seem like I'm a heartless monster!”
“I wouldn't dare.” he jokes, continuing to shake his head as you sigh in irritation at your very annoying friend.
“I advise you that.”
He snickers, “Damn, so scary.”
“Jungkook, seriously. I'm gonna kick you in the balls if you're gonna continue this.” you warn him, hearing him laugh as he leans against the elevator's wall.
You glance at him, annoyed expression as his brow cockily lifts up.
“Not the balls, damn, you monster.”
“Keep talking and you'll see the real monster.” you mutter, your bickering interrupted by the elevator's ring, informing you of your floor.
Walking out of there, all the fun disappears as soon as you see and smell the sterile surroundings again, along with sick patients of all sorts which truly breaks your heart. You understand why someone hates hospitals so much. You never truly belong to that people, never really had that awful experience. Everyone you lost in the family had left at their peaceful homes. You never had to say goodbye to anyone here.
Although, you do remember visiting your father's mother – your dear grandmother – when you were a kid. Unfortunately, she passed away when you were around six. The only thing that bothers you to this day is that you don't have many memories with her. Since you were a little kid, you only remember very little. Plus, there are days when you wished she was still here. To talk about the craziness you've experienced in both families. To help her and show her your gratitude for raising your dad and his four siblings, when she was all alone. She was truly an inspiration for you.
Your dad says you get a lot from her. You'll never forget a conversation you had with him about her.
“You remind me of her sometimes. She had a good heart like you have.”
That's what he told you when you were around eighteen. Your dad is not a sentimental person. He doesn't usually say many heart-warming things, so to hear him saying that just made you emotional. Thinking of it now, it still does in a way.
“Sorry, we are here looking for our friend? They told us at the reception he's on this floor. Kim Taehyung?” Jungkook stops one of the nurses, surprisingly stopping a male who kindly shows you the way to see your friend.
Jungkook looks behind, making sure you're there as he gives you an encouraging smile. You wonder if he's scared as fuck of what you're about to see as well. Is he pretending to be brave and having his shit together because of you? Are you preaching?
Jungkook is the most caring friend. You don't believe he's not worried as much as you are.
“Ready?” he asks, tilting his head toward the direction the nurse sent you.
Naturally, like your body calls for his proximity and safety, you wrap your arms around his forearm, clutching to his side as you give him a nod. He leads you to one of the rooms, both of you cautiously peeking inside as the scene in front of you makes you both gasp loudly, catching everyone's attention in the room.
There he is.
If someone told you you will see Kim Taehyung laying in a hospital bed, you would laugh him off for some reason. All of you would. So to not only see him lying there but having a huge cast on his leg, his face pale and hair unkempt, you and Jungkook gulp at the sight.
Jimin stands there, arms crossed over his chest as his hands rub his lips nervously. A woman stands next to him, a little behind him, noticing your and Jungkook's presence immediately.
That has to be her.
But before any of you can pay her attention, Taehyung steals it without even knowing as he groans.
“What the hell happened?” You almost shriek as a panicked mother, tearing yourself off Jungkook's side as you rush to Taehyung's side, Jungkook following you right after.
Both of you having a concerned look, Taehyung takes a minute to recognize you. You make a grimace, you and Jungkook giving Jimin a stare as he goes to say something, but he's interrupted by the patient himself.
“You guys are here?” He looks shocked, making sure it's really you as he squints his eyes at you both.
“Of course we are–what happened, Tae?”
“Ah, don't even ask! That shit is so fucking embarrassing!” he dramatically sighs, slapping his palm over his forehead as he disappointedly shakes his head at himself.
“Can he just tells us what the fuck happened to him?” Jungkook mutters under his breath, causing you to elbow him like before.
Jimin clears his throat, “He was at the gym and accidentally dropped one of the dumbbells on his feet.”
“Jimin-ah!”
“Man they asked!” Jimin exclaims, trying to keep calm.
“You guys came here because of me?” Taehyung pouts, changing the topic as you and Jungkook stare at him completely dumbfounded. What is wrong with him?
“Of course we did,” you assure him. “We would be here sooner, but Jimin had to call us. Why didn't you call us too?” you frown.
“Actually, the nurse called me. Taehyung gave them my number.”
“Well, that's great.” you mutter.
“Well, I'm sorry!” Taehyung mocks you, slapping his arms against the fluffy duvet he has thrown over one side of his body. “How could I know if you guys are not fucking somewhere behind our backs?”
“We don't do that!” Jungkook reacts.
The room is filled with craziness.
Jimin sighs, deadpanning at his friend. You and Jungkook loudly gasp, your hand over your fast beating heart.
The room is silent after that, Jimin's eyes directed somewhere behind you and Jungkook. You both turn around to see a nurse coming in, an awkward smile attached on her lips as she holds the clipboard with her.
“We had to give him some painkillers, he was close to crushing his toes. He's a little drugged by now.” she informs you, perhaps trying to make you less embarrassed because of your friend.
“I will come back and fill you with more information.” She sets up the clipboard on his bed, everyone bowing to her as she reciprocates it before walking away.
“Ignore him, he's drugged.” Jimin apologizes to the female beside him, her eyes eyeing you and Jungkook as you shift on your spot.
“Yeah, he's just babbling nonsense.”
Taehyung scoffs, luckily keeping his mouth shut about this topic. “Yeah, by the way guys, Jimin brought his girlfriend. They were on a date when his friend was dying.”
“You weren't dying, Taehyung.” Jimin corrects him, giving him a stern look as the younger friend puts his lips into a thin line, frowning. “Ah, guys. This is Rin. Wanted to introduce you to her under different circumstances but well, babe–”
Taehyung gags in the distance. “Knowing you, you would've kept her secret for another year.”
“This is Y/N and Jungkook. My friends.” Jimin grits through his teeth, giving a forced smile to his blonde girl.
“It's nice to meet you. Jimin talked about you a lot.”
“Really? Because he really didn't–”
You kick Taehyung's mattress, ignoring his nasty glare as you both bow at each other.
“Nice meeting you too, Rin. Welcome to the craziness.” Jungkook chuckles, “Jimin is a great guy. Hope this didn't traumatize you.”
She giggles, Jimin laughing nervously while you watch Taehyung who sulks in his spot. “No. It didn't.” she assures Jimin as she cuddles up to him.
“Tae, how are you feeling?” you ask, focusing your attention on your sulking friend.
You sit on the edge of his bed, brushing a few strands off his hair.
“Embarassed and like a fucking idiot,” he mutters. “I got so much attention at the gym. Fuck, I am used to attention but not that kind.”
“The most important thing is that you are okay, Taehyung.” Jungkook butts in, trying to sound gentle as he eyes his friend's new cast.
Taehyung scoffs, “Does this seem fine to you?”
“I meant it that you're alive. You'll have this cast for a few months but you will be fine. You're lucky nothing worse happened to you.” Jungkook explains.
“Fuck, I feel high,” he sighs, dropping his head on the pillow as he stares at the ceiling. He gulps, whining. “What about Hawaii? Fucking hell. I can't go.”
The realization hits all of you, yours and Jungkook's eyes meeting as you pout.
“We can go next year.” Jungkook tries but you know it will only do so little.
“We will cancel it too. There's no point in going when both of you don't go.” you tell him, Taehyung frowning as Jimin gives you an empathic smile.
“No, you guys have to go.” Taehyung says, your eyes lifting up in surprise. But before you can say something, mouth already opening, he continues. “Everything's paid for. Jimin barely got the money back for flight tickets, I don't think I will get mine. It's too close to date.”
“Tae is right,” Jimin agrees, “You can still enjoy it without us.”
“I would hate myself if you didn't go there because of my clumsiness,” Taehyung admits, frowning. “Y/N you were so excited to see Hawaii.”
You stare, pouting as your eyes get teary for some reason. The entire situation is shitty as fuck and Taehyung's pale face is not helping.
“You have to go.”
“I'm sure accommodation can be arranged just for the two of you. It's worth a shot.” Jimin says.
“We could try but I don't know…” Jungkook groans, sighing in disappointment at the fucked up situation. “We'll talk about it later. You're more important now, Tae. What can we do for you?”
You nod, listening to Taehyung who sighs, cracking his neck. “I would die for McDonald's right now.”
Snorting, you shake your head at your friend.
“You shouldn't eat right now, Tae. You have a good amount of meds inside you. It would probably make you sick.” Jimin reminds him.
“We should just wait for the nurse to give us more information. Then we can figure it out from there.” you say, Jimin and Jungkook nodding in agreement.
“This fucking sucks.”
You make yourself comfortable on Taehyung's current bed, humming. “Tell me something about it.”
A few minutes later, a male in his mid-thirties (you're guessing) comes in. Wearing a white coat, you almost forgot how handsome some doctors can look, he eyes everyone in the room – mostly surprised to see so many people but then none of you are family members. He does question it but doesn't send you away.
“...fortunately, Mr. Kim, your accident hasn't permanently damaged any of your nerves or bones. You'll have to wear a cast for a couple of weeks until it's healed, and after that you will need to be careful. But we'll take it from there and discuss further recovery steps.”
Taehyung looks like he's five seconds from dozing off or as if he could care less, you're trying to hold back your laugh while Jimin and Jungkook are the responsible ones. They keep nodding and looking seriously at the doctor using terms you've never heard before. You're sure none of them have and the fact they act like they do makes you want to laugh. Rin stays behind, sitting on the chair next to a window. You get a feeling she might feel not unwelcomed, but definitely out of her comfort zone.
She sees four friends sticking together, three of them that she hasn't seen before. Honestly, it's not weird to see a woman next to Jimin. It is weird to see the affection they have going on, even though so far it has been pretty low-key.
As the doctor finishes and informs Taehyung he's able to go home after they run some tests on him, he gives you a shortly lasting look. You smile, looking away in shyness as you're met with Jungkook's side-eyed frown. He has done that a lot today, you think.
You just innocently shrug, both of your attentions turned to Taehyung who starts to complain all over again.
“You guys should go. You were on a date, right? Me and Kook will take care of him.” you tell Jimin, feeling bad not because they had to cut off their date, but you feel bad toward Rin.
She probably wants to be with her boyfriend, it has probably been too many events for her tonight. You could sympathize with her and imagine what it feels like for her. Besides, there are three of you here. There's no need for all of you to be here. Taehyung will be fine.
Someone just has to wait with him for more tests and results, so he's really safe to go home. Plus, he needs to be driven home as his ride here was an ambulance – something he's still complaining about how awkward it was when it arrived in front of the gym.
“Yeah, go. They will take care of me.” Taehyung mutters like the child he can be, met with yet another glare from you.
Jungkook tries not to laugh while Jimin frowns. “No. We could wait here and drive him to my place.” Jimin argues, turning to Rin. “You don't mind, right?”
“Fucking hell,” Taehyung whispers under his breath. “Why are you asking her? Just go and have your date.” He rolls his eyes at Jimin who clenches his jaw.
“I don't mind.” Rin tells him silently, assuring him.
“Somebody's gonna have to take care of your ass, Taehyung-ah. You can't be alone at home right now.”
“I'm not a child.”
“Sometimes you act like it.”
“Okay,” you butt in, standing up. “It's too late to be arguing in a freaking hospital. So get it together, both of you–” You're met with a glare from both of them. “Jimin wants to be here for you, so don't be childish Taehyung. They can have a date another time.”
“What she means to say is–” Jungkook starts, standing behind you. “We're all willing to stay here and help.”
Jimin and Rin have a silent conversation as Taehyung purses his lips and closes his eyes, ignoring his surroundings. Deep down, you know he wants Jimin to be here for him. He's just childish because Jimin is dating now and even though Rin doesn't seem to be a bad girl, it's different now. Suddenly, there's another person in his life and in their friendship as well. It awfully reminds you of the situation you had with Jungkook.
It's still slightly different but similar in many ways. You know how Taehyung feels. The difference is that Taehyung also knows shit about relationships. He can't understand why Jimin, the guy who used to fuck purely for fun and enjoyment, is now dating someone.
“Guys, could you drop off Rin at her house? She lives nearby, so it's not too far away.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” Jungkook responds.
“Come on, it's late. We should all go to sleep. They can handle it from there,” you say, motioning for Rin to join you. “Don't worry, we're friendly and don't bite.”
She laughs, some of her nervosity dropping.
“Yeah, they're too into each other to care about anyone else.” Taehyung comments.
“Y'know what Taehyung? If you don't want your other leg in a cast, you better shut up.” you warn him, feeling Jungkook's hand on your lower back as he shakes his head, silently telling you it's not worth it as an amused smile plays on his lips.
“Which one?” Taehyung asks cheekily, having the time of his life when he watches your realization into disgust.
“Jesus, man. You should sleep it off.”
“That's not gonna help. This is Taehyung we're talking about.” you murmur to Jungkook.
Taehyung is about to say another nonsense, stopped by Jimin's palm as he gives him a warning stare before he walks up to you and Jungkook.
“Guys, please do not interrogate her. Okay?” Jimin pleas, sounding nervous as you and Jungkook share a knowing look. “No, please. Don't look at each other like that.”
Little does he know it wasn't because of what he thinks it is, that you will go against his wishes, but it's the cuteness of how he doesn't want to ruin anything between them. You've never had a chance to see him like this.
“Don't worry, we're gonna be on our best behavior.” Jungkook jokes, causing Jimin to whine but there's no time to have such a silly conversation.
Jimin turns to Rin, telling her something before they share a kiss. You're ready to squeal at the cuteness as Jungkook tries not to laugh at you, cheekily poking you in your side while Taehyung looks grumpy.
“I'll text you and see you tomorrow, okay?” You hear Jimin say just as you bid goodbye to Taehyung, who's already too sleepy.
Jungkook pats the top of his head before you leave Jimin with him and part your ways. But not before you hear Jimin's silent scolding. “You see? This is exactly why I didn't want to–”
You and Jungkook try not to laugh on your way out of the room, sharing a look in the hallway as Rin silently follows you, probably wondering who the hell has she just met.
“She's quiet.”
You break a silence by stating something both of you are thinking. Rin is not exactly communicative, kept it very casual and both, you and Jungkook, could get the hint of her not wanting to really talk.
“She might've felt bad because of Taehyung.” Jungkook responds, a thoughtful frown making it on his face as he drives you through familiar streets that lead toward your home.
During the slightly awkward drive to Rin's place, Jungkook tried to excuse Taehyung's behavior, thinking it's the main reason for Rin's distant behavior. It's not like she wasn't friendly or has done something out of place. She was just… quiet. She kept it simple, not engaging in any further topics. And regarding Taehyung, she just said it's okay and that was it.
It was certainly none of you have expected. You tried to make the atmosphere lighter, forcing chuckles and grins for her own sake but she just didn't seem to care. You're not going to lie, that stung a little and you had to grit your teeth to prevent yourself from really asking her – What's up?
But then you realize, you have no idea how she's feeling. She met all three of you in the span of one hour and with Taehyung's insanity and even bolder mouth than ever, it has been a lot for her probably.
It's not like the three of you are too much to handle, right?
“You think so?”
Jungkook chuckles at your question, “Tae took it too far. Anyone would've felt uncomfortable.”
“Come on, he's on drugs–” you scoff out a chuckle as if that excuses him. “He wasn't fully himself.”
“He was pretty much Taehyung, what are you sayin'?” Jungkook laughs.
You smack your lips together, a laugh escaping past them as you gently nudge his arm. “You know what I mean–he would've behaved slightly differently if he wasn't in that state.”
“Hm, that could be true,” he mutters, driving with one hand as the other rubs his lips thoughtfully. “Maybe she's just shy, would explain a lot.”
“Maybe,” you hum, “Can you believe it though? Our Jimin has a girlfriend. Who would've thought?”
“Not me,” Jungkook jokes, quoting one of the famous sounds on TikTok which causes both of you to break into laughter. “I hope she's not terrified of us–or Tae.”
“There's nothing to be terrified of when it comes to us!” you exclaim, giggling when you see Jungkook's grimace of pursed lips and raised brows. “I don't know. I thought it would go differently when we would finally meet her. Not like this.”
“None of us expected it,” Jungkook says, “But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that Taehyung is okay.”
“Oh god, he's gonna be such a drama queen once they release him. A cast on his leg?”
Jungkook laughs, knowing exactly what you mean when it comes to Taehyung. “He's gotta get used to it. At least for a while.”
While a short silence follows, one thought is rooted inside your mind which causes you to nibble on your lips. “Kook,”
“Hm?”
“This means we're going alone to Hawaii?”
Jungkook sighs, thinking through his answer as you watch the side of his face and how street's signs and lights illuminate his features. “If you want to.”
He stops at the red light, a few cars stopping behind you as you stare out of the window to avoid his stare once he glances at you. You see him in the reflection. His eyes momentarily watch your form, perhaps trying to decipher what you're thinking before he looks back ahead, staring at the road instead.
“This is not how it was meant to be.” you mutter.
For some odd reason, you feel bad for even saying it. It almost sounds like you don't want to go with Jungkook. It's not that at all. Sure, the thought scares the fuck out of you – but Jimin and Taehyung were supposed to be there. All four of you. Making new memories and doing something new, something precious for your just as precious friendship.
“We don't have to go. We could try next year.”
“No,” you shake your head, “Everything's paid for. It was already trouble enough to deal with Jimin's reservations and now it's the same with Taehyung.”
“Listen,” Jungkook sighs, the engine roaring back to life as the red light changes to orange. By the time it's green, Jungkook puts the car into drive and speeds through the main road. “I know it's not ideal, but I don't want you to go if you don't feel like it.”
“It's not ideal but–” you stop yourself, groaning at your stupid way of explaining your feelings. “I made it sound as if I didn't wanna go with you…” you trail off, somehow starting to feel nervous which is stupid.
Jungkook stays silent. You're not sure if it's because he wants to listen to you or because he silently agrees. You did make it sound like that.
“I just–would it be wise?”
“Wise?” Jungkook frowns.
“Well–just the two of us.”
Jungkook stares ahead before he throws you a quick glance. It takes approximately five seconds for him to release a chuckle as he shakes his head while you're the one who stares in confusion now.
“So that's what you're nervous about?”
You roll your eyes, not being able to say anything. It's partly why you're so unsure about this. The last time you and Jungkook stayed alone… things happened. And while you would like to believe you're strong willed, there's a part of you that fears the exact opposite.
It's insane how Jungkook gets it without you actually having to say anything.
“What? You can't keep it in your pants, Y/L/N?”
It's the cocky tone that makes your mouth drop open, but that single sentence is enough to make you stutter and you literally fight to get proper words out. “You're the one bringing that up!”
But Jungkook laughs, completely ignoring your evident attempt of trying to argue with his statement.
“I didn't even think about that.”
“Mhm, mhm.”
He bursts out laughing, ignoring the way you glaring at his side with a huffy face. “What else did you mean then?”
“None of your business, Jeon.” you mutter, arms crossed over your chest as you fight back a smile when you hear his bubbly laugh next to you.
“Oh, we're back to Jeon?”
“You're the first one that started with surnames,” you point out, giving him a playful roll of your eyes before you sigh and relax in the seat. “I just meant… maybe it's stupid but–we all know how it ended the last time. This is a vacation, Jungkook. We're gonna be miles and miles away. It sounds–”
“Couple-y?” He finishes your thought. He shakes his head with a gentle smile. “It sounds like fun to me. I'm still me, Y/N.” It's the way his last sentence sounds so gentle and vulnerable that it makes you feel like an idiot for even bringing it up.
He's still the same Jungkook you've known for years. With or without intimacy.
You just had to talk about Hawaii one way or another.
“Yeah–I know it sounds like that but I don't overthink it that much. I just meant–fuck, I guess it's a big change from our plans and just us going is…”
“You're scared.” he says, pointing out the obvious that makes you dryly swallow.
You mentally groan and slap yourself. “How am I supposed to enjoy it when you will be right there?”
���Ouch.”
“No, not like that!” you correct yourself, groaning loudly this time. “You'll be a distraction.”
Jungkook laughs at that, “Distraction?”
“Yes!” you exclaim, growing frustrated but mainly from yourself and the fact you're talking about this. It makes you slightly embarrassed but at the same time it's a relief that you can talk about this so openly with him. “With Jimin and Taehyung there–”
“I can keep it in my pants,” he informs you of something you've heard many times before. “The question is–”
You inhale shakily.
“Can you?”
You stare ahead, eyes wide and mouth agape, tongue softly grazing your teeth.
Well–fuck.
“Listen, just let me know how you decided.”
Jungkook says with a window opened as you stand next to the driver's side, shifting on your spot nervously. You haven't talked much after that. There was not much time since Jungkook drove here in five minutes.
“I'm stupid for saying shit like that.”
Jungkook frowns, “Hey, you're not stupid. You're unsure and feel bad for the guys.”
It's not even about the temptation and the stupid break you came up with. It's the entire change of plans you've mentioned to him as well. You made it sound as if it was all about the two of you, but the truth is it feels bad to go there without Taehyung and Jimin.
And that's exactly what you tell Jungkook as you confess your once said thoughts. This time you're more serious.
“You heard them. They want us to go either way. Even when we don't think about the money and how's everything already paid for–you were excited to go there,”
He slides his hand off the steering wheel and places it on his lap instead.
“We're going there to enjoy our vacation. It might not be as we planned it, but we could still have fun. And deep down, I know you really wanna go there.”
“I do,” you admit after a while. When you think about it, this is your opportunity to go. Although, going there alone with him makes you awfully nervous. It's like a huge test for the two of you, one you're not ready for. “You know the last time when we were alone–”
“Mhm,” he says, prompting you to continue.
“I don't wanna make it seem as if that's all I'm thinking about, or that's how I see you but I guess–”
God why is it so hard to put any words out?
“I know,” Jungkook says gently, seeing you struggling a little to properly explain the crazy train of your thoughts. “You wanted us to focus on our friendship. I know, Y/N.”
He's so gentle that you almost want to cry out and have him hug you. You're in a desperate need of a hug. But it's too late and you both had a long day.
“You sure you don't wanna go upstairs?”
Jungkook smirks and you groan. “Not like that, Jeon.”
“I feel like I'm gonna pass out the second I take a shower and lay in my bed,” he jokes instead, “You should go inside, it's getting colder.”
You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at your surroundings. “I wanna go, Kook.”
Jungkook turns his head to look at you, immediately realizing what you're talking about. He doesn't say it but the question in his eyes is clear. You sure?
“Yeah, I made a big deal out of it,” You sigh. “But I really wanna go with you. It would be stupid for us not to go.”
“Okay, then. I'll have to make some calls because of Taehyung, hopefully he will be able to get his money back. At least for the accommodation. If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“I won't,” you assure him with a smile, “And Kook?”
“Yes?”
“It's stupid but… I don't think I've ever felt nervous about you before. The last time was when we first met. Or the first time we started hanging out.”
“I made you nervous?” He laughs.
“Mostly everyone makes me nervous when I first meet them,” you scowl at him as you explain. “We barely hung out after we–took a break or whatever we wanna call it.”
Jungkook snorts at the way you roll your eyes when you say it.
“I make you nervous. I don't know how to deal with this information.”
“Jeon,” you grit through your teeth, “It's not you. It's more… the situation and all.”
He grins, biting his lower lip before he releases it and stares at the distant street lights. “There's no need to be nervous. No kissing. No sex. We're on a sex ban. Just two best friends in Hawaii.”
You groan his name and at the way he says it with an utmost grin. This man is not serious.
“That's not what I truly meant but–you know what? Nevermind. Let's just end it here.”
Jungkook doesn't press any further, simply opting for a gentle grin and change of topic. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You catch yourself wishing he would say something else instead of your name.
And that's your cue to turn around before silently wishing him a goodnight, telling him to drive safe and send you a message once he's home. Perhaps it's for the better that he stayed in his car.
He waits until you're inside of the building before he drives out of the parking lot, his silver car slowly fading out until it fully disappears. What doesn't disappear are the mixed and crazed feelings that make you question every single thing that has been said.
One thing you know for sure.
This vacation will be one hell of a ride.
One, you can't prepare yourself for. One, you're close to shitting your pants for.
Rolling your suitcase down the sidewalk, Jungkook offers to take it but you decline. He has his own suitcase and full hands, therefore all he receives is just an appreciative smile as you enter the airport.
Namjoon was kind enough to take you and since your flight is early in the morning, he had the time to drive you here.
Sorting out your luggage and going through the security doesn't take too long and before you know it, you're seated in the airplane fighting for a window seat with Jungkook. He lets you have it, of course and slumps into the seat next to you. With a happy and slightly annoying smile, you make sure he sees it as he playfully rolls his eyes.
Since there are still passengers sitting and putting away their luggage, you do have a little time before taking off. You take that time to quickly video chat with Jimin and Taehyung. While Jimin's preparing for his work, Taehyung curses you out for waking him up. Though, there's a tiny smile that tells you that it's okay to go without them and enjoy it to the fullest.
You share your earphones with Jungkook, so he can hear them too.
“You guys–” Taehyung sighs, eyes slightly swollen with tiredness. “This sucks but enjoy it, alright? And send me pictures.”
“We will.”
“Yeah, Kook took his camera with him.”
“You and your camera,” Taehyung jokingly shakes his head. “I could've had such nice pictures.”
“You have… lots of them actually,” Jungkook snickers, “We will take some next time.”
“Be safe guys, I gotta run to work but text us when you land.” Jimin says, his screen blurry as he keeps moving.
“Will do.” you assure them. “I'm sorry you guys couldn't come.”
“Stop,” Taehyung cuts you off, giving you a grin that feels oddly comforting. “Have the biggest fucking fun. I'm stuck in bed, so maybe I will annoy you with my phone calls.”
“Great.” Jungkook mutters, causing you to nudge him as the four of you laugh.
“We're about to take off. I will call you, Tae. Don't worry.”
“I am not. What I worry about though, is the amount of times I could've gotten laid. Now I'm stuck here with this fucking cast on.”
“Dude, chill out.” Jimin laughs.
So do you and Jungkook. Shortly after you all end the call, you and Jungkook snickering between each other at Taehyung's biggest issue.
While the pilot welcomes everyone on board and informs them of the destination and other important information, you make yourself comfortable in your seat as you place your head on Jungkook's shoulder.
Jungkook looks down at you, smiling as you catch his glance. “Ready?”
“Is there anything left for me other than to be ready?”
“Well, you could chicken out. The plane is not in the air yet.”
You smack his side, sitting up straight as you're met with the familiar sight of his stretched smile and white pearls. “Dumbass.”
“Love you too.”
You look away, making sure he sees the roll of your eyes before doing so. Though a small smile plays on your lips and as you take off, plane soon in the clouds, you use Jungkook as the softest and best smelling pillow.
The adrenaline and excitement of what's awaiting for you does not allow you to sleep. Yet you don't move an inch, finding comfort in the man sitting beside you. And when you ask him to play with your hair, he does it without any questions.
“Oh my god.”
Is the first thing you let out as soon as you get out of the airport and see the beauty around you. The weather is not too hot for you to not have any sunglasses or hat on. You shield your eyes with a palm outstretched above them, stopping in the tracks as Jungkook tries to get a taxi.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” Jungkook says once he locks his phone and puts it into the pocket of his shorts. “The place we are staying at is even more beautiful.”
Jungkook has managed to make a compromise with the owner of the place you're staying at during the next seven days. Since it would be for the best if Jimin and Taehyung got their money back, they made a deal on swapping apartments. This way the owner could still make a profit while complying with you.
That alone made you a little bit calm because so far, everything is going well and smoothly.
“Our car should be here in five.” Jungkook informs you and ushers you to go in a shadow.
You obey, feeling already as if you're melting.
“What's our plan for today?”
You haven't really slept during the flight. Jungkook has booked a business class, something you've scolded him for because that's definitely something you haven't paid for when you sent him the money for your flight ticket. There was no need for that eight hour flight, but you both definitely made a good use of it. You turned on a movie and made yourself comfortable while eating snacks. Who knew having a drink on a plane can be actually so relaxing and fun at the same time?
You sit on your suitcase, squinting your eyes at Jungkook who pulls a cap from his suitcase and puts it on your head.
“We're gonna settle in and maybe we could check the outside?”
“Sounds good.”
The car comes around the time Jungkook said it would, an older man with a straw hat on welcomes you and helps you with your things. You both thank him and get inside – luckily – with an air condition on.
While he drives and gives you a quick tour of the road you're driving on, he answers any curious and informative questions Jungkook asks him. You sit silently, smiling at the man whenever he jokes around as you stare out of the window, appreciating the nature around you.
And at that moment you think;
It's a good thing you decided to go.
You've seen the photos of where you were supposed to be staying. All four of you. But since that has changed and the two of you couldn't go, there had to be some changes made. Jungkook informed you about that, so that's no news to you. It would be no use for you and him to share a place designed for four and more people.
Surrounded by nature and sea air, there's a whole street of houses. It's so close to the sea that you can hear the waves in the distance and smell the salted water. Surely, the location and vacation houses are one of the wealthiest ones, and you just can't seem to pry your eyes at what's around you.
You let Jungkook handle everything, after you've grabbed your luggage and bid goodbye to the driver. He talks to the owner, or the person who is in charge of the vacation house you'll be staying at. Shortly after, Jungkook is given keys and after waving off one last person, you finally get out of the sun and get inside.
The first thing you notice is the chilly air hitting your heated bodies, the two of you sighing in delight before you both laugh.
“AC is gonna be our best friend here.” you comment, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the lack of sun.
“Just don't overboost it, yeah? Or else you're gonna end up sick.”
You turn to Jungkook with raised brows, who simply just shrugs as he sets the luggage down.
“Says the person who always has his AC turned on in the car.” you point out the obvious fact you both know.
“My immune system is much better than yours.” he points out back, showing you the tip of his tongue in a teasing manner as you shake your head, trying to hide a smile.
Bickering with someone who knows you well – or best even – is tough.
Now that's done and the two of you don't elaborate to bicker any further, you take the time to look around. The place you've seen from pictures looked different, customized for more people. This house is just as spacious and even though you're standing in the entryway, you can easily tell more people would be able to fit in here.
“Are you sure we're at the right place?” you ask, catching Jungkook sweeping his hair off his forehead with head leaned back. Mentally sighing at the painfully attractive sight, you turn around and admire the place you're in instead.
That's a safer choice anyway.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” he asks instead, confirming that yes, you're at the right place. “Come on, let's see how it looks in person. The pictures were pretty great.”
You wonder why Jungkook hasn't shared them with you once he was able to switch houses. For sure, you haven't had that much time to talk about it. Everyone was busy with their jobs, you included, and then the accident with Taehyung happened which caused this entire planning to get rushed. Poor Jungkook took care of everything – but you know he's the best at it.
When your mouth drops as you make it to the living room, you notice Jungkook grinning at the side of the entrance to the living room since there is no door. He wanted it to be a surprise.
One that appears to be more than successful.
“Kook–” you stop yourself. The entire side facing the sea is a window wall, giving the best view to the beach and sea.
The floor is a darker wood, giving the room just the right balance of colors since there are a lot of light colors. The white couch is huge, in the shape of U, similar to what Jungkook owns at his place. There is a big beige carpet underneath the coffee table and couch, making it more cozy. A beautiful chandelier hangs down with transparent bulbs which is undoubtedly even more pretty at night.
From up here, there's a porch with a pool and your legs itch to find out how big it is.
It's a one floor beach house, a modern yet cozy one as Jungkook leads you to the right to show you the kitchen. It's a medium sized, smaller than the one he's got and you wonder why it's even here considering you'll get your food brought from the resort.
The house ends from the left sounds but you move to the opposite side, jaw dropping at the beautiful bedroom. First of all, the interior is beyond any words and leaves you breathless. You've never seen something so beautiful in person. You could cry. And Jungkook's joyful grin is not helping at all.
The bed is not against any walls. It sits almost in the middle of the room. There's a panel behind it and further away, it leads you to a spacious bathroom. There are two sinks and a huge mirror – the room matched in turquoise and white colors.
“Jungkook–this is–how much did you spend on this?” you ask, turning to him with a hand on your hip with a frown. “This was definitely much more than you said.”
“Don't worry about it.”
“Jungkook, stop. I'm serious.”
“So am I,” he shrugs, sighing slightly. “I paid a little extra but it wasn't much.”
“I don't believe you.” You narrow your eyes at him as he cheekily grins and shrugs.
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Jungkook!”
However, your scolding is cut off by him simply walking away. The bed is facing the beach, the same view as you could see in the living room. Palms surround the house which create a little shade from the burning sun.
There are dressers where you could store your clothes and stuff, but you don't pay any more attention to it as you follow Jungkook back to the entryway with a frown settled on your face.
“Jungkook, I'm serious.”
“And so am I, Y/N,” he says simply, dragging your luggage to the living room. “I swear I didn't pay much. The owner wouldn't really have any other place for us. I wanted you to see this beach.”
You raise your brows at him, trying not to crack at the warm and sweet gesture.
“Plus I didn't want to stay anywhere else. So be mad at me all you want, but I'm happy to be here and from the looks of it, so are you.”
“Yes, but–”
“No, buts. Now get ready, we're leaving in twenty.”
You stammer over your words, mustering to ask only one word. “Where?”
“Out. Unless you wanna stay in and rest.”
He says, stopping as he turns around to look at you with raised brow, waiting for your response.
“Ah–no, I am fine with going out.”
“Good.”
And he leaves to the bedroom, “Oh–I hope you don't mind the one bedroom. They didn't have any houses with more rooms left. But I can sleep on the couch.” he calls out from there.
When you don't respond right away, his head pokes out of the corner with a awaiting gaze.
“Why would I mind?” you breathe out, feeling like you just got awestruck.
“Uhh–you want me to elaborate?”
You chuckle nervously, scratching your forearm before you shake yourself out of it and drop the expression. “Yah! You wanted to go out! So go get ready too!”
“Yes, m'am.” he salutes and disappears behind the wall of the bedroom.
You stand there, sighing to yourself and at your fast beating heart.
He's not going to make this easy, is he?
Happiness oozes out of you and as much as you were unsure about this vacation, you're glad the guys managed to talk you out of backing off. In the end, it was your decision to go without Jimin and Taehyung who are very much missed. Though, you're completely obvious to the fact it's going to be challenging.
The heat and raging hormones are not making it any easier for you.
You can control yourself. You can do that as long as there's no impulse from the other side.
This vacation might've not started like you planned, but it started wonderfully without your friends here. It's also a great chance of getting your friendship back where it was. While you're sure the history between you will always be there and it will never go away, you can try to go back and not get pushed to do something silly due to any sort of temptation.
Because that's what Jeon Jungkook is.
Having him right here, next to you while you explore the Island is a great challenge itself. At first, you don't pay any attention to the mentioned temptation. You're fine. You talk, you joke and have a great time exploring the Island. You go out and eat in one of the restaurants, you have the best ice cream that is like the greatest present for your heated bodies. Taehyung and Jimin facetime with you during it, which ultimately makes you miss them more – especially when you show them around and see their pouty faces.
After that, you visit a few local shops – promising each other that you will come back and shop some souvenirs not just for you two but for your friends as well. The heat is too much to spend the rest of the day in a direct sun with no refreshments. And you didn't come here to just stay inside, so you both decide to go to the beach.
You do want to get the best of it since you're about to get your period in the halfway of this vacation. The timing sucks but you won't let it ruin anything.
Quickly going back to the house to change and pack things, you use the close proximity to the sea and settle on the beach there. You decide to walk a little further, closer to people and other tourists where different bars occur. There will be time to enjoy that privacy later.
Although, being left with him alone is all the things you're scared of.
Just focus on you, and your friendship.
“Is here okay?” Jungkook asks, stopping a few meters from the sea.
Looking around, it's a good spot. You're not completely surrounded by the tourists, more to the side where you can enjoy the shade and sun at the same time. There are faint sounds of music coming from the nearby bars, squeals of people's excitement and chatters around you. Beach waves are like a lullaby to your ears, confirming the reality of your presence here.
There are kids as well, not too many but you spot a few in the distance as they beg their parents to go to the water already.
“It's perfect.” Is all it takes for Jungkook to drop the beach blankets down. You help him to get it in the right place, making sure the wind doesn't mess it up.
Air here is far better and you can't wait to get into the water to freshen up.
“I'm gonna get us some drinks.” Jungkook announces once you settle in, pulling out a straw hat he bought while you were visiting different shops. It's the only thing he had to buy.
At first you weren't sure why, it's not exactly his style and you're sure he packed one of his caps. But then, he just puts it on you and shields the top of your head. You lean your head back to give him a look.
“You don't wanna get a heat stroke.” he shrugs, hands on his hips as he stares down at you.
See, it's very hard to keep it casual and think of Jungkook being an annoying friend. While you fully appreciate his caring, it's hard to focus in general. He has a stupid excuse of a button-up, so thin all his tattoos can be seen through the seen through material. It's not even the tattoos itself.
He has it completely unbuttoned, showing off his pecs and abs as the thin material barely covers any of his skin. Jungkook has always been handsome, but you also never had to see your friend like… this.
Iceland would've been a better option than Hawaii.
So far though, you've been strong – even though it doesn't seem like it. While you're completely obvious to Jungkook's body and additional sight of his skin, you just don't allow your eyes to drop there. You keep them solely on Jungkook's face, hoping he doesn't see the inner turmoil you're going through.
“What are you? My dad?” you ask instead, poking the front of the straw hat with a lifted brow.
Jungkook grins, “Don't want you to get sick on our first day.”
“You forgot to put sunscreen on me. And bring a swim wheel.” you comment grumpily.
Something feels odd. It's not like you're truly annoyed by his caring. But looking at the familiarity of this conversation and overall situation, something sits on the tip of your tongue. It's not a word or anything that could be said. It's almost like a taste you can't quite describe.
And when you see Jungkook who just laughs with his head leaned back, shrugging effortlessly at your comment, you realize that perhaps it's the fact that things really are like they were. At least right now. Jungkook treats you like he has before. He's caring, having that one particular look in his eyes you haven't seen in a while.
Or perhaps you're just dramatic and you're seeing things.
Being confused and frustrated at yourself more than ever, luckily Jungkook cuts you off from your never-ending thoughts before you can drive yourself crazy.
“Ah, maybe I should've. We both know you're not too confident in water.”
You gasp, reaching for your sandal which you throw in his direction. He laughs, dodging it perfectly as despite your attack, he still reaches for it and puts it back to the spot, so it won't get lost. It's a detail but leaves you gulping.
“I'm pretty confident in kicking your ass.”
“Alright,” he laughs, not believing a word you're saying which makes you roll your eyes at him. “Whatever you say.”
He confidently backs away with a smirk, laughing when you flip him off and huff out in frustration once he turns around and walks to one of the bars. He slowly walks further and further away, yet you keep your eyes on him.
You lay back, staring at the palm tree above you. The sunlight peeks through the leaves, creating patterns on your heated face and cheeks.
When he comes back, you gulp down the fresh lemon and mint drink without properly tasting it.
“...okay.” Jungkook says, watching you being halfway down the drink – it's alcohol free which doesn't make you look completely insane. “Wanna go for a swim?”
Putting down the drink, you open your mouth just as Jungkook decides to ditch the stupid excuse of a cover-up. He shrugs it off and tosses it onto the sand, brushing his fingers through his black hair. It has gotten long to the point where it sometimes gets into his eyes.
Standing up, you undo the small knot on your white cover-up that looks like a short dress. It slips down your arms and meets the blanket underneath your feet.
“Ready?” you ask, dropping down the silly straw hat Jungkook has gotten you.
“Is this new?” Jungkook questions instead, pointing at your white bikini. It's a cute set. What makes it cute looking and pretty is the ruffled style, yet it's complimenting your body in the nicest way.
“Yeah, I bought it for this trip specially.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, you don't like it?” you ask, looking down at yourself and adjusting your bra that's pushing up your breasts. Not in the overly too much type, enough to show them off though.
In your defense, it didn't look like this on the model when you were ordering it. Luckily, you would say it fits perfectly. Jungkook's silence causes you to look up, almost finding the thought of him not liking it or thinking of it negatively scary. You mentally gag at yourself. Since when do you care what others think?
To be fair, sometimes you do – if those people are close to you and it also happens what it is about. But your choice of fashion matters only to you. You won't let anyone change the way you perceive yourself and your individual style.
As much as you're independent in this entire matter, you would lie if you didn't say you don't like compliments. Also, there is something about Jungkook's compliments. You almost gag for the second time when just the idea of it makes your stomach tickle.
“Are you staring at my tits, Jeon?”
Caught red-handed, Jungkook's slightly scrunched eyes from the sun widened in a split second. “You don't usually refer to them as tits.” he comments instead.
You chuckle at the ridiculous response, “I usually don't have to refer to them at all. But you were staring.”
“Can you blame the man?” he shrugs, stealing a quick glance again as you give him the look he knows very well. The one where your eyebrow has been lifted for what seems like the hundredth time in the span of thirty minutes.
“Jeon, for this to work, you gotta behave yourself.”
Jungkook frowns at the nickname, “I prefer Kook better.”
“Jeon.” you correct just to annoy him. Deep down you cackle at the way his brows scrunch together in the softest way possible.
“What do you want me to do? They're just right there! We were talking about your bikini, it's not my fault.”
“You don't have to stare at my breasts though.”
“Did it make you feel weird?”
“Well–”
“See? You don't not like it!” he exclaims, pointing at you accusingly.
“I barely said anything!”
“You don't have to, I know that look.”
“This is ridiculous,” you mutter. “Besides, you didn't answer. You don't like it?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” he deadpans.
“Um–yeah?” you deadpan back.
He sighs, “I'm not gonna talk about your bikini because you're gonna accuse me of staring.”
“I don't have to accuse you, you were staring!” you laugh.
You're not going to lie. It does compliment you.
Even though you're here to focus on the two of you, in a different way than you were a few weeks ago, you should hate how Jungkook's attention makes your ego grow.
“You told me to behave, so I'm gonna keep my mouth shut.”
“Why?” you question, not doing a great way to show your excitement.
“Oh, now you want me to talk?” he laughs, “Nah, you wouldn't be able to handle it.”
“Cocky as always.”
He shrugs, “I never hid it.”
You nibble on your bottom lip, “But no, be serious right now.”
“Oh, I have been serious this whole time.”
“Jungkook!” you whine, “Is it not too much?”
“If I told you yes, would you change?”
You stay silent for a moment before simply saying; “No.”
“Then no, it's perfect.”
“Jungkook!”
He stays silent for a moment, throwing his head back as his eyes squint shut from the trails of sun hitting his face. “God, woman.”
“What?” you mumble innocently.
Since when do you care what anyone thinks? Jungkook questions mentally, trying to keep his thoughts straight before he gets the courage to look you in the eyes.
“You look beautiful.”
You stare, battling with hundreds of things happening inside you. The heat in your cheeks gets almost unbearable and you do what you seem to be best at. Running away and playing it cool. “Yah, don't say it like that!”
“Like what?” Jungkook asks, brows pinched in confusion.
“So seriously.”
“I am serious,” Jungkook informs you, making it worse for your cheeks and the turmoil that's happening in the pit of your stomach. Why did you have to open your mouth? “Now let's go into that fucking water.”
“Woah.”
“Yeah, woah.”
“What's bothering you?” you ask, trailing behind him trying to catch up to him when he suddenly turns around and nears the sea.
“Nothing,” he says casually, dipping his ankles into the chilly water. You open your mouth but before you can say something that could potentially lead to a conversation you would eventually back out of, Jungkook splashes your heated body.
You gasp, finding him smirking. Before you can get him back for it, he runs to the water and dips his entire body in. He emerges out of it in seconds, the water reaching just somewhere around his hips. You watch droplets of water run down his entire body, hair completely soaked from it as he wipes his face.
“Are you staring at my abs, Y/L/N?” Jungkook shouts, your eyes widening as embarrassment makes it onto your face. Can he be any louder?
You look around for a second, trying to see if someone is witnessing this embarrassing moment. There's no one that seems to care, besides a group of girls meters away from you as they seem to find a certain interest in Jungkook. You purse your lips, looking at Jungkook.
“Y'know, if I should behave, so should you.”
“I don't feel like behaving,” you call out to him, watching him as he creates waves with his hands as he effortlessly runs his hands through the water. “They are just there, you know?”
You get him back for it, still watching him and witnessing his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Oh, are they?”
“Mhm.”
“Get in here.”
“No.” you giggle, laughing when Jungkook grins and shakes his head at you.
“I'm gonna get you.”
“Come here then.”
And fuck, he does. You laugh through it all, trying to back away as you promise him you will go deeper, though not fully out of respect to the sea you have. He doesn't listen. As soon as his arms wrap around your body, molding into his almost too naturally and perfectly. But you're caught up in the moment and in your giggles, hearing Jungkook's laugh as you squeal when the coldish water wets you.
You cling to Jungkook's side, “There are no sharks, right?”
Jungkook snickers, “Of course there are. Somewhere in the sea at least.”
You nudge him, but Jungkook holds you close since he can reach better than you. He's also a way better swimmer than you. “Don't say that.”
“Look at those kids,” he says and points to the side. There are kids on their floaties, of course with their parents around. “They're not scared of sharks.”
“They could be dessert for all I care, I'm not gonna be one.” you joke, hearing Jungkook laugh as he doesn't allow you to inch closer to the shore.
“You could be mine, but you wanted a break.”
You gasp, tickling his side as he barely falters and just gives you the teasing grin. “Don't say stuff like that. I told you.”
“Alright, I won't.” he promises, imitating his lips being locked as he throws the imaginary key far to the sea. “I was joking.”
“Were you?” you ask, pretending to be teasing and amused but the truth is, there's a part of you trying to know the truth.
“I guess you'll never know. I told you I'm shut.” he says with a grin like the annoying brat he can be.
And for the sake of yourself, you decide to leave it be. You splash his face instead, playing it off like you seem to do often. For your own sake.
Jungkook has always been the adventurous type. You've heard all kinds of stories from Taehyung and Jimin, some of them back from Busan or from the times you haven't been present in their lives back then. Jungkook would be up for anything that could get him the thrill and although, there weren't that many opportunities considering everyone's busy lives – you could see it from his mere decision of being up to all sorts of fun that involves adrenaline.
So you shouldn't be surprised he practically stuttered and almost jumped from excitement once he spotted a place where jet skis can be rented. You've read his mind even before he opened his mouth and dragged you there.
After swimming and messing around in the sea for a while, you went for a walk and explored the beach, and tasted a few good snacks. You should've known it's not ending with that.
And that's where you ended up. Sitting behind Jungkook, both of you wearing safety vests and you clutching to his back, arms around his waist. You live in the moment, focusing on each activity the two of you do.
The sun is now setting down, air is still warm but with the sun slowly disappearing, it's not boiling hot. You're exhausted and your body screams for a good cold shower and bed. On your way back to the beach house, you walk in silence and enjoy the sound of waves around you.
You're the first one to occupy the bathroom, taking the chance to not be in the presence of Jungkook's naked abs and chest. As long as you keep your mind and body busy, there's a low chance of you overthinking and letting your mind wander somewhere where it simply should not.
Not wanting to dwell any further of how this might have been a mistake, you take it as a test to prove your friendship. Jungkook is a temptation that has grown over the few months you get to experience something you haven't before.
As the water dribbles down your naked body, wetting every inch of your skin, you think it's too soon to want everything to be different or back like it was. Because it never will be. And for that, you're scared of what's about to come. There are things you can control and then there are things that simply will evolve into something. The feeling of the unknown and fear of ruining your friendship with Jungkook genuinely scares you.
But again. You think of it more positively, you have to or else you're going to lose your mind. Jungkook's attractiveness and the fact you're attracted to him won't go anywhere. At least not in the near future and it's something you need to come to terms with. Like you said, it's too soon to think of it any differently.
While you're here to focus on your friendship, perhaps you should focus on yourself more as well.
As you wash yourself in a nice scent of orange and vanilla, you apply a body lotion you've brought to make your skin soft. While you do that and start doing unnecessary steps as your night routine, one you definitely don't do when you've spent the day not wearing make-up specifically, you tell yourself you just pamper yourself instead of trying to look good for someone else.
Your skin is glowing and hair almost dried by the time you join Jungkook in the living room, wearing one of your night gowns.
He's on his phone, barely glancing at you before he takes a double-take and eyes you up and down.
“What?”
You're the first one that breaks the short-lived silence. Any nightgown is a small portion of what could be considered as your sleepwear. Jungkook out of everyone knows that, because he's seen you in everything you usually sleep in. Back in the day, you would never get the courage to let him see you sleep in anything other than oversized shirts and shorts. Even thinking of wearing tank tops made you feel weird, especially if he god forbid could see your nipples peeking through.
This white nightgown is beautiful, but by no means designed to make men salivate or suggest anything other than having something nice to wear. Besides, the material is thin and light which is perfect for this warm weather. Plus, you and Jungkook have agreed or not having the AC turned on unless it's completely necessary. Not only is it not healthy but you're also very sensitive to coldness. Getting sick on this vacation is just not on your list, therefore you're trying to eliminate that chance as much as possible.
He narrows his eyes at you, trying to figure you out and you realize it right away before he can even open his mouth and offer you any sort of response.
“Oh, don't get this wrong. I packed my best stuff on this vacation and I didn't know we were sharing a bedroom.”
“I haven't said anything.” he says, watching you as if you were a predator as you get closer.
“You didn't have to, it's all over your face.”
As much as you enjoy his eyes on you, which always compliments you – it's one of those moments when you hide behind confidence and ignore the warmth that spreads inside the pit of your stomach. There's no point in thinking how many words from him or simple eye-contact would it take for him to take matters into his own hands. Or more like you.
But you can't think about that. You can't wonder about it.
“I would suggest wearing something different but I won't.”
He smiles and it's so brief you barely catch it. “And why is that?”
“Because it's not my problem, of course.” you tease. “I'm wearing this for myself.”
“I never initiated anything different,” he tells you, tilting his head to the side while he studies your face. He doesn't even lock his phone as he tosses it beside him. “You should sleep in whatever you're comfortable in.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
You both stare at each other, trying not to crack a good laugh. It's a weird moment. Something between joking, amusement and tension that boils. If this happened a few weeks ago, he would probably have you underneath him as you're speaking. And the image is so explicit that it leaves a warm coat all over your body and you have to take a step back.
“But seriously now, you don't feel weird because of this?”
“If I said I am, would you change?”
“Of course not.”
He cracks a grin, “Then why asking?”
“I'm curious. I don't want to make you feel weird and this wasn't my intention. Besides, this doesn't expose anything major–and you've seen everything–”
“I have and for someone who doesn't care and wears this for herself, you're awfully explanatory.”
Your eyes narrow into thin slits as you glare at him, sending him a warning look that's easily met with a boyish grin from him.
“Now that you're finally out and finished making yourself look good for yourself, I'm gonna take a shower.”
Jungkook's laugh booms through the room and bounces off the walls when he manages to escape from your leg aiming at his buttcheek. To be fair, you were there for longer than you initially planned.
“Are you making fun of me, Jeon?” you call out to him, trying to sound pissed as a comfort glazes your soul.
“When have I ever?” He calls out back, already in the bathroom and hidden from any threats your legs might make.
It's been ages since you've had such a good sleep.
Exhaustion and the amount of activities you've done yesterday ultimately had a good share of it. The air here is different. The faint sounds of waves have been an additional part of your sleep. No cars passing by or city lights peeking through your blinds, or even occasional footsteps of your neighbors above your head.
You understand why people travel so far to relax. Sunlight peeks through the wide open window you've left and lets the chilly air get through the night. It felt so lovely that you fell asleep as soon as you closed your eyes.
Traces of sun touch your skin and make it warm, warmer than you've appreciated though and that alone tells you you're about to have another hot day ahead of you. Jungkook has briefly informed you of today's plans, always keeping in mind what you want to do but since you're more of a tagging alone vacation type, you just agree with whatever.
You're here to relax and if you see something you would like to see or try, you'll feel open to do so. It's something you've assured him right before your body slumped into the comfiest bed you've ever laid in. Not even Jungkook's massive bed can compete with it.
Or maybe it was the exhaustion all along.
Speaking of Jungkook, you tilt your head sideways to check on him. Not before you rub your eyes off the sleepiness. A sight of Jungkook's exposed back stares at you right back. Similar to the position you've just woken up from, he's sleeping on his stomach while arms underneath the white pillow as he hugs it to his face. You can't see his face and for a moment, you think it's better that way.
Whoever would see you right now, they would get a totally bad perception of the two of you. You look nothing like best friends who occasionally share bed.
Overthinking is not a huge part of your life. At least you think so. But ever since months have passed by and you've decided to take a break from the temptation laying right beside you, you feel like you've done nothing but that. Overthinking every second.
You believe everything happens for a reason. And while you told yourself you're not going to overthink it and focus on your friendship instead, you do wonder if there's a true reason for why you and him ended up spending this vacation alone.
Sure, Taehyung got injured and couldn't travel while Jimin couldn't go because of last changes at his work. It shouldn't mean more but just a mere coincidence that consists of bad luck and life.
Like you've told yourself many times before, you will take this opportunity to focus on your decision of why you decided to take a break. Besides, you can't think about it too much and you do have to put lust aside, focusing on something that is far more sacred and important to you.
You've no idea how long you lay there with your eyes open, watching the beautiful view out of your bed. You haven't checked your phone, something you would've done by now if you were at home. But not at the moment. You want to fully enjoy this and stay in the present – because right now it feels like you don't need anything else.
You haven't realized how much you needed to get away. Perhaps the reason for this vacation is not to tell you something secretive, but it's for you to recharge and come back stronger than ever.
And maybe there's no reason for it. Maybe you should just freaking enjoy it and not overthink every second.
You almost groan out loud, ready to spring out of the bed to stop yourself from thinking and being alone with your mind. The soft groan coming from the person next to you stops you and for some dumb reason, you catch yourself closing your eyes as if to pretend you were sleeping.
Jungkook tosses around and stretches his limbs, groaning raspily under his breath as he turns to his back. He's back to sleeping, so do you think before you slowly open your eyes and catch the perfect sight of him doing the same a second after. He blinks, frowning slightly as if he realizes where he is.
Witnessing that is cute. Wait. What.
You widen your eyes and quickly shake that thought away. Calling him cute, even if it's in your mind seems illegal. Even though you've done that many times before. Years ago to be exact.
“Mornin',” he rasps out, hand reaching to his face as long fingers rub the sleep and tiredness off those puffy eyes.
Muttering the same greeting, you watch him close them for a moment as a soft groan makes it past his lips. “How long have you been awake?” he asks sleepily.
Long enough to watch you sleeping, you admit in your mind but it sounds ridiculous even there. You shouldn't have these thoughts anyway, no matter how honest you are.
“Just a few minutes,” you reply instead, rolling onto your back as you stare at the ceiling.
A momentary silence has never been an issue with Jungkook. In fact, you don't find it uncomfortable but for some reason, having him so close feels weirdly familiar and odd. It's different now but it is not at the same time. You're both in a completely different state. While you realize it's in your head and sleepy Jungkook has no idea, you decide to cut off the silence and fill it with a conversation.
“It's already ten.” Your eyes drift to the digital clock that sits on the nightstand on your side.
“Fuuck,” Jungkook sighs, rubbing his face again. “Already?”
You nod, glancing at him to find his arm tucked under his head, his face turned to you as he offers you a sleepy smile. Gulping down, you sit up and pat down your hair to make it less messy.
“What are we doing first today?”
Not offering him any more attention with your eyes, your feet slip into your slides easily as he remains silent for a moment. Your back burns, the traces of his eyes are without a doubt the reason for it.
“We should eat something first, then I wanna rent a car so it's easier to travel on the island. And then bungee jumping.”
“Fuck, you still wanna do that?” you whine a little, glancing over your shoulder to find him grinning at your evident disappointment.
“You only live once.”
“That's a stupid reason to do stuff like that,” you point out.
You're all up for Jungkook having fun and trying new things he hasn't. However, sometimes your type of fun and interest differs from Jungkook's and once again, you're reminded of his adventurous self. There's no way in hell you'll go through that. He knows that.
“But if something happens to you, I want your car.”
Jungkook snorts out loud, your own lips curling into an amused grin as your feet pat into the bathroom.
“Or no, your apartment will do.” you raise your voice as you call out to him, making sure he hears you.
He does, along with the amusement and teasing in your soft voice.
“How generous you are,” he calls back. “You wouldn't survive without me.”
You chuckle under your breath, washing your face in cold water. You're done within a minute, patting down the remains of it.
“Oh, here we go. Cocky much in the morning?”
“You should know that by now.”
You jump at how fast and close the answer comes. Jungkook stands between the door frame, leaning against the left side of it. Crossing his arms over his chest, you try to not stare too much at the display of his skin and muscles.
Reaching for your toothbrush instead, you focus on your task instead and stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks feel warm all of a sudden and you're sure it has nothing to do with Hawaii's warm weather.
Jungkook watches you in silence. You're not sure if he still has a cocky grin attached to his lips or if he's simply just watching, but you know he is. You can feel it. And then you hear him stepping closer until he reaches for his own toothbrush. The familiar scent of him wraps around you once again as you give him a look with an arched brow.
Is this his way of keeping his distance?
Well, to be fair he never said he will keep his distance. Your idea of how this is going to work is simply to focus on your relationship, rather than the physical side of it and what was left of it.
Although, you have no idea how him standing shirtless next to you is going to help that. You welcome the challenge though.
You two ignore a lot of facts that surround you. So you continue to brush your teeth next to each other like it's the most normal thing ever. And maybe it is.
But back then none of you were shirtless or exposed enough that there is only so little left to each other's imagination. Is imagination even a thing here?
You've seen every inch of each other's bodies. You don't have to imagine anything because you've seen it all. You've felt it all.
“Do you mind?”
You straighten up once you spit the remains of mouthwash. Jungkook turns on the shower, checking the temperature as he's visibly ready to take his morning shower.
“Unless you wanna join me.”
It's the cunning smirk that slowly sneaks onto his face that makes you scrunch up the small face towel that's been used and throw it in his direction. It bounces off his puffed out chest and you hate how he laughs, ignoring your attempt to silently tell him to fuck off.
“Boundaries, Jeon.” You remind him.
“You never minded them before.” He continues to tease you and you snarl at him, throwing him a glare.
“Now I do.”
“Alright, alright. Sorry.” He bows and you groan, flipping him off before you close the bathroom door with a loud thud.
His humorous laugh behind the door accompanies you long enough until you're far away to breathe it out. You'll have to do that a lot when it comes to Jungkook.
Your soft smile is caught in the reflection of a sparkling clean microwave and you quickly look away, ignoring the previously stated facts.
“Kook, are you really sure?”
After you had breakfast, walked around a bit and rented a car like Jungkook said, you stand in a queue that's slowly but surely shortening.
He would've actually laughed if he didn't glance at you and see your widened eyes, as you stare at staff putting a harness on people and preparing them for the jump. Whenever someone jumps with a loud scream, some people as a pair, he sees your breath hitching and stopping for a moment.
Of course he is sure. He's mentioned this a couple of times throughout the years but he never really had the opportunity to do this. So you're aware of not only his interest but excitement as well.
Unfortunately for him, this is a hard no for you and even though you would do anything for Jungkook – go special lengths such as pretending to be his girlfriend – this is where you draw the line. It's comical.
“You sure you don't wanna jump with me?” He asks instead, laughing when he sees your dumbfounded look. Is he serious?
He had to sign a freaking liability waiver that he's doing this at his own risk. While you're aware this is a standard contract for all these kinds of sports, you've almost thrown up when the woman handed it to him and he signed it.
“Worth a shot.” he mumbles.
It's laughable as you stand beside him, shifting uncomfortably from side to side as if you were the one doing this. Meanwhile Jungkook is close to jumping from excitement as he watches other participants before him in a complete awe and excitement.
“Have you not watched a horror movie when the most ridiculous stuff happens once people do this kind of stuff?”
He gives you a side glance, “Are you talking about Final Destination?” he stops for a second, “I don't remember there was a bungee jumping scene.”
“It's not about bungee jumping itself.” you point out, growing frustrated that he's practically just making fun of it.
“You should stop watching horror movies.”
Your response comes right away. “I would have, if you guys didn't force me every time.”
He snickers, “Y'know, for someone who's always very considerate and empathic, you sure know when to talk about the right stuff.”
“Talking about all the risks this includes is right,” you inform him. “I'm worried.”
“No one wants to hear there's a risk of a plane falling when you're about to board the plane.”
Oh shit, he's right. You know he is, yet you couldn't help yourself and hoped that he's going to change his mind at the last minute. Obviously, for your own selfish reasons.
“Flying a plane is different though.” You still stubbornly mumble, hearing another scream from one of the participants which makes you flinch.
“The point is not,” he points out but as you open your mouth to argue, he grabs you by your shoulders and has you standing in front of him. “Stop worrying, I would do this with or without you.”
“Damn, how sweet of you.” you mutter, causing him to laugh. “Couldn't we ride horses or something instead?”
“We could still do that. After I jump.”
“Oh god, don't say it like that!” you whine. He laughs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he hugs you to his side.
“Taehyung would jump with me.”
“Taehyung would probably be drunk out of his ass if he happened to jump.”
You look at each other, laughing before the woman's staff calls out for Jungkook. She asks if you're jumping together and you wildly shake your head at her, stepping aside as you let her put a harness on Jungkook.
He's grinning, watching her excitedly as she says all kinds of information about safety to him. You don't listen to that. For a moment you just focus on the happiness and excitement on him that has been evident ever since you stepped out of the car.
Their conversation is a little lost on you, therefore your brows are furrowed in utter confusion when Jungkook sits down and gets his legs secured.
“Wait–what are you doing?” you ask.
All people before him either sat when they were jumping or they looked as if they were lying, in a flying position. Jungkook puts a helmet on, shooting you a thumbs up as he ignores your ready to flip out.
He's being hoisted up, upside down as he grins like a kid at you.
“What the hell, are you crazy, Jungkook?” you yell, hands gripping the railing for dear life.
You thought this center did just those positions and Jungkook flying upside down just never crossed your mind, even though you know people jump like that too.
“See you soon.”
“Jungkook!”
But before he can focus on your angry expression, he flies you a kiss and is let go. You yelp, wincing as you his body flies into the distance in a rapid motion. You can't help but watch, your eyes lingering on what seems like a dot down there the entire time.
“My boyfriend jumped as well, a couple of times actually.” Someone says beside you and you don't look, you can't as your eyes stay on Jungkook. But from the voice, her accent tells you she's local. “If it makes you feel better, no accidents happened here. A few people threw up but that's it.”
You offer her a nervous chuckle, not really thinking Jungkook will be throwing up. In the worst case scenario, he would want to jump again.
“See?” She stands closer, taking a closer look as they start pulling him up and you sigh in relief. “Your boyfriend is safe. Is he the throwing up type?”
You finally glance at her, seeing her tan face and curly hair surrounding it.
“He's not my boyfriend,” you tell her, “He's my best friend. Psycho best friend it seems.”
She laughs but her eyes linger on you, looking as if she doesn't believe you. You subtly roll your eyes. You know exactly what she's thinking. You've seen that reaction many times before and by now, it no longer phases you.
Everything else becomes a white noise and the girl beside you is long forgotten as the cord springs back to its original space and with that, they pull Jungkook slowly up. They help him balance. Letting go of the railing, you wait for him to move aside so he's not that close to the edge as it's another person's turn.
But none of that matters and when Jungkook finds you at your original spot, he smirks. “Missed me?”
“You idiot!” you curse, punching his chest before you hug him. He laughs, chest vibrating as he hugs you back.
“I would jump again but I wouldn't wanna give you a heart attack.”
You smack him again, giving the girl that still stands there a knowing look. Jungkook's eyes move toward her for a moment, wondering who she is but his attention is back at you as you breathe out loudly.
“You're crazy, you know that?”
He shrugs, effortlessly running his fingers through his hair. “I'm crazy about a lot of things.”
Rolling your eyes, you nudge your head toward the exit before he changes his mind and you'll be charged for a murder. “Let's go.”
He listens, but not before he tickles your side for a good measure, earning another smack.
He's a crazy idiot for making you worry like that.
“Awww, you were so worried about your Kookie?”
Baring your teeth at Taehyung's huge grin that displays on Jungkook's phone screen, he's a lucky person that you're currently sitting at one of the restaurants near the beach. There are too many people for you to tell him to fuck off.
You knew the moment Jungkook decided to accept the video call, they would have a field day. Honestly, they make the situation way more dramatic than it was. Luckily for them, you know your friends and their annoying teasing that is purely raged by your annoyed reactions. It's what makes their eyes lit up until you put a stop to their charades.
That's what you get for being the only woman in your inner and close circle.
You glare at Jungkook, non-verbally asking him do you see what you did?
As always, Taehyung asked about your day and since he can't be a part of it, he likes to hear details. He doesn't mind it, as he assured you many times. You still feel bad that he can't be here with you. Jimin too.
And luckily for Jungkook, he briefly mentioned you almost shit your pants when you saw him actually doing it. He wasn't really making fun of you, until Taehyung took the matters into his hands and turned it into a teasing battle that you're a victim of.
You lean toward the table where Jungkook holds his phone, facing you as he watches your interaction with Taehyung with amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Fuck both of you,” you whisper, making sure Taehyung hears it.
He does.
It makes his grin even bigger.
“You should've seen him. He jumped upside down.”
“Isn't that what people do when they bungee jump?” Taehyung asks, met with another huff coming out of you.
“Yes, but dozens of people before him didn't jump upside down.” you inform him with a sass, seeing him put his hands up in surrender.
“Honestly, you're like an old married couple. You scold him and he fucking enjoys it.”
Rolling your eyes, you adjust the napkin that's sitting on your lap. It's getting dark now. Until the adventurous day, you wanted to have a calm dinner by the beach. Tomorrow's plan is to enjoy at least a half of the day there, relaxing. No adrenaline sports.
“Are you even scared of anything?” you ask Jungkook, lifting up both your brows.
“I'm scared of many things.”
“Yeah and you're one of them.” Taehyung butts in. Jungkook rolls his eyes and so do you.
“You guys make it seem as if I torture you on daily basis.”
“Well, you can be scary sometimes.”
“You know what, Tae?” you press your lips together in a fake smile.
“Wha–”
You don't give him a chance to respond, ending the call. Jungkook snickers, pulling his phone to him as he checks the screen. You sit back with a satisfied smile.
“You know Tae… He would tease shit out of everyone and everything.”
“Oh, you're not so innocent either.” you point out with a chuckle.
He frowns, momentarily pausing as he reads out a message. “He just texted me–fucking rude.”
“Send him a kissing emoji, he's gonna know it's me.”
Jungkook shakes his head with a chuckle, typing something there. He locks his phone, putting it away as it has become a strict and unsaid rule to not have phones when you're out. To be honest, it happened naturally and you're guessing, both of you want to enjoy this time without the internet. Unless it's to make calls of course.
“Besides, you were shaking when I danced on the table. You were practically shitting your pants back then–do you see me teasing you for it?”
He frowns, “When?”
“The NYE party? Jin's cabin?”
Quiet follows for a moment as the mention of one of the very significant nights comes to the surface. Not even the waves in the background can wash out the slight odd vibe in the air. So much happened there.
“You remember that?”
“Faintly, but Taehyung filled me in.” you shrug.
“That was different,” he simply says.
“Different how? I was having fun and you begged me to come down.”
“Yes, because you were wasted out of your ass. I had all safety measures taken care of, while you were dancing, wasted wearing heels.”
You purse your lips.
“So don't compare those two.”
He doesn't sound angry, he's strictly informative and you wonder what he's so defensive about. Perhaps the memories from that night aren't exactly pleasant. You might've looked like you were having the time of your life, but you were going through hell back then.
“Damn, alright. Point taken.” you mutter, seeing him roll his eyes but his lips crack a grin.
“Just don't dance on the table this time.”
“Why would I do that?” you laugh.
“To get back at me.”
It's silly. You wouldn't do that and he knows that. There it is. It's the innocent teasing you've missed. Innocent. That's what you need.
You still reach toward the wine glass as you gulp it down. A tight smile is the last thing you offer Jungkook before you dig into your meal.
It's the next and second day of you officially being here.
Over the short period of your stay, it's crazy to realize how used to you've become to the new world around you. You and Jungkook have fallen into the routine of waking up without any alarm, not bothering yourselves to set one so you could do as many things as you can during your stay.
Both of you relax and let things happen naturally, with a bit of planning because you still want to have fun and experience fun things. It's not hectic at all.
Jungkook drags you to learn how to surfboard and while he's a natural talent (another of course), you're having just as much fun even though you're nowhere near Jungkook's level. You taste the most delicious food until you can't eat anymore, worrying you're going to have a stomach ache if you won't stop at the right time.
Now you're laying on the beach blanket with eyes closed, listening to the waves that are always there.
Jungkook has gone to grab you some alcohol free drinks, cold drinks, after you both agreed on having them. It's been a while since he left, so you crack your eyes open and squint at the bright sun even though you've been lying in the shade.
You look around. A part of people playing beach volleyball, tanning or swimming in the water, you don't spot him right away. Until you would recognize his figure everywhere and from miles away. He's bringing his drink with him, staring at the sand under his bare feet and you can't help but watch him the entire time.
His hair is still a bit wet from swimming that he decided on earlier. Jungkook knows how to relax and you've seen him relaxing more than ever here. However, he still needs to get active somehow so every few minutes, he decides to do something. It's quite laughable and adorable, considering he would be lifting weights if he was back at home.
He's passing by the volleyball court that someone provisionally made and entertained a bunch of tourists that were looking for a bit of sport and fun. You're supposed to go jet skiing with Jungkook tomorrow, so you will save that later and just bask in the sun for now.
Your thoughts fade away just as they naturally came when you spot a group of girls, calling out to Jungkook which stops in his tracks and looks at them with curious eyes. His mouth stretches into a smile as he nods, looking around with drinks in his hand until one of the girls points toward the little table next to their deck chairs. He sets it there carefully before he pats his hands over his swim trunks. Another girl eagerly hands him something which you soon realize is a phone.
They pose for him as Jungkook snatches a few pictures of them. Sitting in the distance for a good minute, he keeps taking pictures of them as they pose in typical poses with the beach and sea behind them.
It's pointless to mention they're all wearing bikinis. You're not one to judge and you would never criticize their bodies but shit, they all look good and definitely stand out with their different body types. They're hot and you don't have to be a man to conclude that.
They chat for a while and you hate yourself for growing slightly annoyed at Jungkook's absence and clear interest in whatever conversation they have. Minutes seem like hours and you look away, watching your surroundings. God, you're pathetic. You act as if your eyes don't move in their direction every now and then.
Until you're staring at the sea in front of you and notice Jungkook's nearing. He sets your drinks down. “Here you go, but be careful when drinking. It's cold.”
Cold? All the ice probably melted until you stopped chatting with the girls.
Pressing your lips together, you nod understandingly and take a sip so you bite your tongue and don't say something that could spiral into any sort of confrontation. What's the deal? You're not even mad at him. You're mad at him for being bothered.
It's okay. They just wanted a group photo and Jungkook was passing by. No big deal.
You sigh, giving him a smile as you look at the nice pink colors your strawberry drink's having.
“I met some girls on my way here. They're about to play volleyball. They ask me to join, you wanna join too?”
You freeze for a second, only your eyes sending him a glance. Of fucking course.
Can you blame them though? Jungkook's hot and has been catching women's gazes every time he comes out. They're shooting their shots and who are you to stand in their way? You've learned from your past mistakes when it came to Ester or another girl in Jungkook's life. Plus, you're on a vacation and they're strangers.
“Nah, you go. I'm gonna sit here and fangirl.”
He lifts his brow, “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He eyes you suspiciously. “I'll stay if you want me to.”
You give him a dumbfounded look. “I'm not your mother, Kook. Go have fun.” you chuckle.
“Alright.” he nods, standing up. “I'll be right there if you need anything.”
“I'm all good,” you assure him. “Go kick their asses.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “They're girls, Y/N.”
He heads back to them, unaware when you mutter under your breath; “So?”
At first, you thought there's no reason for you to dig deeper in things that don't matter and would show overtime. You've stuck to your own little world, relaxing and checking your phone every now and then. You've also watched the volleyball game.
Interesting to watch, you may say.
Jungkook's in his element and you're not exactly talking about the female audience around him. Some guys joined them too and you soon realize they know the girls, or at least are familiar with them. Jungkook's team is winning. No doubt there and you find yourself smiling whenever he shoots, and the ball hits the sand on the opposite side of the other team. You silently cheer for him.
For a second you think of recording him and sending it to Jimin and Taehyung. But knowing Taehyung, he would thirst over the women playing the game rather than the real meaning of the video. Perhaps you're a bit selfish because you definitely don't need to hear about how hot those women are. Because that's what they are.
They're women.
But you should've expected this to happen. It's what you maybe wanted to happen. It's a great opportunity to fully move on. There will be many occasions and situations like this. You shouldn't be mad.
So why the fuck your lips turn downwards like you've been kicked to the stomach?
Jungkook comes back after running with everyone to the water to freshen up. He yells something to them when walking out of the sea, grinning from ear to ear. You feel like an idiot. How can you be so bothered when he seems happy?
“Hey, they want to jet ski for a bit. You wanna join?”
Jet skiing is fun, you would go but you stop yourself from nodding because of your own partially selfish reasons. “No, you go.”
“I know we're supposed to go tomorrow and we will–”
“Kook, it's no big deal,” you laugh, “We can go tomorrow.”
“You sure you don't wanna go? They're all nice.”
You're sure they are.
“Maybe I will join you later or something.”
“They wanna play volleyball again, so you can join, then.”
“Yeah, sure.” you smile, giving him a thumbs up as he gulps more of the drink until it's finished.
You wave at him as he joins them again, going to rent the jets. You sigh, groaning silently at yourself. A part of you wanted to join them just to stick with Jungkook. It's okay for him to have fun with someone else.
Your throat feels tight when you see the woman sticking to his side. Her caramel skin glistens under the sun rays and she looks straight out of any male fantasy. You've seen so many different models coming from your model agency, but this one takes the cake and you're not sure if she's a model.
Her curves are thicker than the models you usually see. She's wearing a revealing bikini, her breasts almost spilling out of the bra but it's not because of that. It's because she's gorgeous. She's different from Kiko. She's different from you.
You would guess she might not be Jungkook's type. But then he looks down at her, smiling widely as he fastens her vest and something kicks inside you.
“Hey–”
Your head moves quickly toward the male with full on abs, nearing you carefully as he chuckles when you give him a glare.
“The guy–Jungkook?” he stops for a moment, “He told us you're his friend.”
Friend. That stings for a split second.
“I am, and?”
He chuckles, not put off by your raised brow and dangerous eyes. The man's skin is tanned and his dark wet hair is pushed back, showing you his sharp jawline.
“And I wanted to check on you and ask if you really don't wanna join.”
Oh god, he must think you're some kind of introvert that avoids all social interactions. Little does he know you did it for your and Jungkook's sake.
You glance back at them, Jungkook sitting on a jet ski as the girl sits behind him, hugging him from behind. Your throat goes dry and you swallow down the lump that suddenly appears there.
“Officially, you don't have to if you do–”
You roll your eyes at the familiar sentence and you grow slightly annoyed at that. You brush any sand that might appear on your moisturized skin.
“Y'know what? I was starting to get bored.”
His smile grows and he looks you up and down. Not in the disgusting and perverted way, but in an almost challenging way as he smirks.
“What about my things though?” you look down at your phone.
“We can leave it in the bar there. They always look after our things when we do stuff like this.”
“Always?”
“We're here for the third time.”
“We.”
“Some of our friends. But we always meet someone new too, so they join us.”
Just like Jungkook right now.
“Oh, so you're the friendly type?”
He chuckles, “Not always. Just for specific people.”
And then there's the look in his eyes. Challenging and telling you more than his lips are. Oh god. He's flirting with you.
You grab your and Jungkook's phones, not wanting them to get stolen. When you straighten and balance yourself, he holds out his hand for you to take. You slap his hand, brushing past him. “Let's go.”
You hear his amused chuckle behind you as he guides you toward the bar. After your stuff is taken care of and the staff is obviously familiar with him, you join the others.
“Guys, someone's gonna join us after all.” He calls out and you realize you don't know his name.
Jungkook is in the middle of conversation, grinning as he looks up curiously. His smile falls when he spots you and you almost lift your brow at him.
“Cool!”
“Great!”
“I'm Nat, what's your name?”
All kinds of questions and reactions are thrown at you. Welcoming and warm which you're glad for.
You introduce yourself, feeling a hand on the back of your back, not going any lower out of respect as the man who brought you here, guides you to one of the jets.
“Mind sharing this one with me, Y/N?” he asks, handing you the vest.
“No,” you say lightly and feigning innocence. “Do you?”
“Of course not.”
“You could at least tell me your name. Y'know, in case something happens to me.”
“What's fun in that?”
“So you're also the mysterious type?” Cocking your brow at him in challenge, he smirks.
“Gabriel.”
He excuses himself for a minute, to grab his own vest as you put the one he handed you on.
“I thought you didn't wanna go.” Jungkook suddenly says, standing right in front of you. He lightly nudges your hands as he helps you to fasten up your vest.
You stare at him, “Changed my mind.”
“You could've told me. Wanna ride with me?”
“You already have someone to ride with.” you tell him, chuckling as you're trying your best to appear light and carefree.
“I see you do too. Doesn't mean we can change it up.”
You shrug, “He offered.”
He frowns, his eyes dropping all over your face as they stop on your lips for a quick moment. “So, you cool with that?”
“Yeah,” you say, swallowing. “It's okay to meet new people.”
His eyes snap to yours. He watches you, causing you to almost squirm in his never flattering eye contact. “What do you mean?”
Fuck, you should've stay silent.
“Well, we talked about this earlier. We're not–it's probably for the best.”
You watch his tongue poke the inside of his cheek, a knowing look crossing over his features as he momentarily looks away before he chuckles. He rubs his nose as he backs away.
“Okay.”
Him going back to the woman, watching her arms around his waist when they haven't even set off yet, is not the most disturbing feeling. As Gabriel joins you and you sit in the same position like Jungkook and the woman, you can't help but realize that none of this seems okay.
a/n: Oh god. It's already out! It's been a while since I wrote an author's note & to be honest, there's so much that I wanna say. At first, I wasn't really sure what – minus of course to thank you for your understanding and patience which unfortunately doesn't involve everyone. I'm glad that this chapter is finally out! To think it was supposed to be out in summer (and it's already close to winter 🥴) and even earlier than that, is insane!!
I don't wanna go into too much detail and make this a/n too long, most of you probably have been hanging around for a while to know everything that has happened since the last update. Life has been busy but I don't think about it negatively, even tho it obviously affects my writing schedule. I needed the hectic lifestyle. Sometimes I felt too exhausted, but I would rather take something positive from it than think of it negatively, especially since I wasn't in a good space before.
I wanna apologize for taking so long. I know y'all have been waiting. For me, it didn't even feel that long which shows just how quickly everything has been happening in my life. There are so many things that affected it and I could literally make a list (lol) but I'm sure most of you know a good amount of it, since I've been as honest as I could've been. I know I couldn't control 99% of how busy I got. There were times when I wanted to write badly but I barely could even think of it. There were also times when I could've found inspiration and time, but then one look at my Wattpad profile or my inbox made me just lock my phone and do other things.
I don't want to make this a/n to give off a negative vibe, because there is so much to be happy about, but I just wish some people could be more understanding. Some of them have been extremely toxic, not making it any easier for me. I'm slightly sad to admit that if it wasn't for my passion and love for this story, I probably would just pack it off because the hate and messages I got are insane. I know me saying this won't change anything – I've tried multiple times. But please for love of God, stop pressuring writers and gaslight them, or many other unnecessary and disgusting things.
But putting this aside, I wanna thank everyone who's shown me love and support – made all of this worth it. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, there is more to come and I've already started working on the next one. Please, don't ask when and how much. I don't know. I'll do my best. My goal is to post at least once a month, but this doesn't mean it will happen. I've learned not to plan much because I don't wanna disappoint anyone. So I'll just work on my stories privately and once I have something to share, I'll inform you 😊
So, yeah, that's it guys! I'm glad to be back with another chapter and hopefully, there won't be such a long wait anymore! I really wish this won't happen again for multiple reasons. Thank you for cheering me on and letting me know there are such great readers like you. I'll be forever thankful. During this story and after it finishes as well!
If you've enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ Teaser for 59 along with a special unfinished scene (that didn't make it in 58) will be posted there!
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© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚��𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
#networkbangtan#ksmutclub#ficswithluv#btswritingcafe#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook x reader#bts au#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#mutual help#personasintro
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Special Level: "DPーONE HOLE" for Kinktober.
♡PHASE 2: gojo & dazai x afab! reader. *nsfw audio⬇⬇*
Synopsis: sandwiched between dazai and gojo, you didn't see it coming when they proposed to share a single hole.
Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt with plot, double penetration, size kink, mild degrading kink, voyeurism, reader has a female anatomy, orgasm control, oral sex, rough sex, praise kink, mild psychological manipulation, masturbation, ovulation, pet names used: angel, sweetheart...etc.
Word count & a/n: 3.9k, okay this took me 3 days to write no joke- a special thank you and a kiss to my sweet bbg rem @remlionheart for helping me out writing this part, i don't know what i would've done without her xx.
READ: PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x afab! reader.
“no way... it’s not gonna fit!” you exclaim, wide-eyed as you take in the two men standing before you, both packing unbelievably huge cocks,
“oh, we’ll make it fit,” the brunet purrs with a sick smirk curling into his lips. are they serious? you nearly passed out last time when it was with geto and chuuya—and that wasn’t even in the same hole.
you shift slightly, feeling a twinge of nervous excitement as they exchange a deranged knowing look. no way they're actually about to try this—double penetration in one hole?
you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation. uh, well, you need to rewind a few hours…
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“you’re going to miss the after-party if you don’t hurry up!” suguru’s voice comes from the other side of the opulent hotel suite door. he stands there sighing and rolling his eyes as he adjusts his tailored dark grey suit that complements your dress perfectly.
“i know!” you bite back, desperately fumbling with the zipper on your dress. the more you pulled, the more it seemed determined to stick in place. well, you didn't expect less from a sleek, form-fitting black dress that falls to just above the knee with a deep v-neck and a backless design.
you huff in frustration feeling your face heat up. why was it always so much more complicated when it was your turn to shine? you could practically hear the chatter of geto and chuuya outside, and yet here you were, trapped in a battle with a stubborn zipper for the second time
the door cracks open, and geto pokes his head in with a pitiful smirk already forming. behind him stands chuuya, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. given that he’s a good head shorter, he practically has to lean up to get a look around geto's shoulder.
“need help?” geto asks, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice. classic.
“oh, totally fine! just a… minor uh..malfunction,” you lie, completely ignoring the way your hands are still locked in a losing tug-of-war with the dress. they don't need to know how close you were to waving a white flag.
geto tilts his head, obviously not convinced, but before he can offer again, a crewmember flags them down from the hallway, urgently needing both of them. geto sighs looking a bit hesitant as they’re called away, and you can hear chuuya muttering something about “never a damn break.”
“okay, but shout if you need someone to rescue you,” geto calls chucking over his shoulder as they head off.
you nod, giving an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up while praying the dress will cooperate. once they’re gone, you turn back to the mirror, wrestling with the zipper once more and muttering in frustration. just as you’re about to give up, a pair of warm hands appear on your back, gently tugging the zipper up with ease.
“thank god you’re here,” you sigh in relief, not even bothering to check who’s behind you, assuming it’s someone from wardrobe.
“i was just about to say the same thing,” comes a voice, too close, and way too amused.
you freeze...oh no, that voice!
“g-gojo!” you falter, finally twisting around to see his saccharine shitty grin.
“i... um... thanks? but i didn’t know i was getting a personal stylist??” you reply, pink hue colouring your already flustered face.
“well, I do charge by the hour.” he says, raising an eyebrow with that all-too-smug grin.
is he serious right now?
you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. “yeah? i’ll make sure you work for every cent.”
“here you go! all zipped up and ready to go.” he pats your shoulders gently.
as you check yourself in the mirror, you hear gojo muttering under his breath, “now, where the hell is my bag of bandages?”
needless to say that the suicidal freak is trying to negotiate his way onto the rooftop by slipping a hotel staff member a crisp 100 yen bill. “just let me through, and I won’t mention how you’re the staff's designated crack dealer, alright?”
with that, he strides confidently down the corridor, only to collide with chuuya, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed chatting with geto with a sceptical expression on his face.
“who the hell let you back here?” the redhead barks, glaring at dazai not bothering to hide his frustration.
“uh who the hell let you wear that outfit?” the brunet retorts, taking in chuuya's ensemble, a sharp tuxedo that is a true work of art, complete with a black satin lapel that gleams in the light. beneath it lies a deep crimson shirt, and of course, no look is complete without his stylish new fedora, adding the perfect finishing touches. “did you lose a bet? now, shut up, i’m looking for someone.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
once you’re finally ready, you and the four hotties head up to the hotel rooftop for the after-party. the view of the city skyline is breathtaking, with all the lights twinkling like stars against the night sky. needless to say that the vibe up there is so lively, you can practically feel the energy bustling around you. everyone's laughing, chatting, and the clinking of glasses fills your ears with the upbeat music that makes you want to dance.
you spot some of the cast, all dressed to the nines, mingling and celebrating the movie premiere like it was the best night of their lives. it’s hard not to feel a little caught up in the excitement yourself.
as the night goes on, you’re hanging back in a quieter corner of the rooftop, drink in hand, watching gojo and dazai do their usual routine, with the white-haired freak launching into his jujutsu tales about being the “strongest sorcerer in history” to anyone who’ll lend an ear. he’s practically flexing at this point, not that anyone asked about his sorcery skills—but that doesn’t seem to stop him.
as for dazai, well, he's in his own world of smooth-talking, tossing just the right lines to make every woman he chats with laugh like he's the funniest guy in the room, nodding along to gojo’s wild stories as if he’s actually been there, backing him up with just enough charm and sly touches on the arm or shoulder to keep his female audience wrapped around his finger.
it goes without saying, that geto and chuuya are just standing there, looking like they’re about five seconds from yanking them by the collars and dragging them away.
“keep them in check,” you hear the redhead mutter to suguru, who rolls his eyes in agreement.
“hey, do you wanna get a drink?” the brunet suddenly suggests, sidling up to you with a playful glint in his eyes, and as usual, gojo is right beside him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.
“oh, i-i don’t think i should,” you hadn’t planned to drink tonight, especially since you were ovulating and wanted to stay clear-headed. but the glimmer of pleading in their eyes makes it hard to resist.
“oh, c’monnn! just one drink?” gojo pleads, leaning closer and brushing his fingertips on yours. “it’ll be fun.”
with a sigh, you relent, knowing they won’t let it go easily. “finnne, just one.”
oh, agreeing to this was a crucial mistake—not because you're getting drunk, but because you're literally a giggling mess, flirting right back with them more than usual. with the increase in estrogen, making your skin feel more sensitive, and you can’t help but notice how the fabric hugs your curves perfectly, leaving you feeling uncharacteristically sexy. every playful touch and cheeky comment from the two men sends your heart racing, as if it’s the first time anyone has ever admired you like this.
you finish your glass, you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, the effects of the alcohol hitting you faster than you expected. the two men's playful banter becomes way more extreme, you find their hands roaming your body in tandem, too shamelessly.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
the brunet brat chuckles lowly snapping you out of your thoughts as he leans in closer until his long slender fingers slide between your slick folds, parting them as he plunges two digits deep into your sweet soaked hole. “oh, see? pretty sure it will fit,” he coos, spreading his fingers inside you just enough to draw another desperate moan from your throat. “you’re already making it easier with how wet you are.”
your back arches againts your will as your head lolls back, mouth falling open in delight. and you can clearly hear your pulse racing in your chest as he keeps his fingers inside you, curling and spreading them while keeping his gaze fixed on your pouty face.
“just relax, yeah?” dazai whispers, pressing his palm against your chest to guide you back onto the soft, white blanket, relaxing your tensed body.
to the side, gojo leans back into the leather couch across the room, his own gaze heavy-lidded with arousal as he strokes his cock in long, slow, lewd motions, eyes completely locked on the way you writhe beneath dazai's touch. the six eyes man whore is absolutely shameless, letting every inch of his thick length slide through his hand as he watches you with a smug grin spreading across his face. “fuck yeah, look at you,” his voice drops an octave.“already fucked out, and we haven’t even fucked you yet.”
your gaze flickers to gojo, watching as he tightens his grip around his deliciously lengthy cock, hand moving in slow, teasing strokes, you bite back a whimper and tugging at the brunet's sleeve as some sort of a plea. as soon as the sorcerer catches your stare, he chuckles darkly picking up the pace and rubbing his seed-soaked tip with his thumb, little blue-tinted veins running up and down his cock, a shade dangerously close to his own hungry eyes.
you should be ashamed of how much your mouth starts to water, saliva pooling and connecting the roof of your mouth to the pad of your tongue.
“getting all wet just from my fingers?… how are you gonna handle both of us?” his fingers continue their sedulous rhythm as he stretches you open, a rushing river of slickness pooling with every teasing thrust of his digits. he pulls his fingers out only to plunge them back in again, spreading them inside you, relishing in the way your walls flutter and clench around him. “It’s like you were made for us”
“dazai,” gojo calls, from across the room, “go faster, yeah? look at how desperate they are.”
without hesitation, the brunet speeds up, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy walls, soft thumb rubbing your abused clit firmly, sending shockwaves of dopamine across your brain. you can feel it build rapidly, hips rocking salaciously against his fingers, feeling the sex loaded air pressing down on your chest, as he works you closer and closer to your release. but just as you’re about to tip over, the brat pulls his fingers out, leaving you trembling and on the brink. you mentally curse him, more tears filling your eyes as you look up at him, lips wet and pouty, parted in a desperate, wordless plea.
“oh? you want us to make you come?” gojo chuckles, voice almost mocking you pathetically as he stands up and strides over to loom over you with that infuriatingly smug grin. “then kiss me,” he leans down, face so close that you can feel his minty breath ghosting over your lips.
you know better than to listen to him, but desperation consumes you as you silently mourn the loss of your neglected release, you shift, reaching up to capture his lips, loud heartbeats drowning out your hearing. but just as you’re about to press your mouth to his, you hit an invisible barrier, his infinity keeping you just millimetres from him. he chuckles darkly, watching the frustration build up in your eyes as you let out an exasperated whimper, practically aching to close the gap.
“that’s not fair!” you cry in desperation as you press harder against the invisible barrier, lips hovering so close but unable to reach him.
gojo’s sick smirk only widens. “life’s not fair, sweetheart,” he drawls sultrily, “but maybe if you let us both fuck you…” he lets the sentence hang out in the sex charged air between you both, his glances over at dazai with an amused grin.
“oh, c’mon, angel. that look in your eyes is begging for more. you know you want us to fill you until you can’t take it anymore.” the burnet's hand tilt your chin slightly so that you're facing him, his other hand still on your thighs, fingers idly trace patterns on your sensitive skin, keeping you needy like a bitch in heat.
“please,” you whisper as you try to push again though his invisible barrier but to avail, fuck it! you need to taste him to feel his sweet lips on yours, “please, i need it—i need both of you.” your voice cracking, dignity slipping as you look from one to the other, unable to resist any more teasing.
the white-haired freak hums in satisfaction, and as soon as his infinity is turned off, you find both your lips pressed together, tasting your shared breath, and oh god the taste of him makes you melt drawing out sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make. his tongue sweeps against yours, coaxing you into a messy, open-mouthed kiss that leaves you dizzy.
just as you’re sinking into him, lost in his sweet taste, dazai's firm hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a look that leaves no room for patience. his mouth is on you before you can take a breath, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging, then his tongue slides in, leaving a slick trail of spit that mixes with gojo’s. a needy groan rumbling from his throat as you part your legs even wider, inviting him to slip between your inner thighs.
dazai’s hands settle firmly on your waist, fingers digging in as he lifts you effortlessly, guiding you until you’re straddling him, pillowy thighs spread around his hips. he shifts, positioning himself so his achy tip is bumping your clit, until he reaches right between your inner folds, running the meat of his shaft along the length of your soaked pussy. you lean in to tast the faint salt of his skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. a shuddered breath escapes him as the soft warmth of your heated cunt welcomes his length, angry tip nudges into you, slipping past that tender threshold.
“oh fuck baby mngh..suck me in like that, fuck yeahh,” he growls as you sink down to drive his delicious cock into the deepest parts of your sex, inch by fucking inch, your cunt already fully lubed up with all your sweet juices. the world around you fades, leaving only the exquisite sensation of being filled by dazai’s meaty cock.
and just when you think that you're already too full of dazai, you feel gojo's strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, slowly pushing deep within you, his girth sliding alongside the brunet's and into your ruined hole, filling you to the brim in a luscious stretch.
“oh—fuhhh-ck ’toruuu, it’s too much—too much!” you gasp, voice breaking as your body struggles for a few seconds to take them both, a sweet ache blossoming within you as they thrust deeper, cunt instinctively clenching around both their cocks, as if trying to pull them in, to take them impossibly deeper.
“fuckk! you feel incredible. mmngh yeahh just a little more, sweetheart… you can take it.” the sorcerer groans against the shell of your ears while palming both of your breasts from behind, you never imagined taking one of them, leave alone both of them together, every inch of your now-stretched cunt is filled to the brink, and yet craving more, even as it borders on unbearable.
“shh, you’re doing so well,” dazai’s voice came through softly, lips brushing delicate kisses along your collarbone. “just breathe, angel… i’ve got you.” his words are meant to soothe you, but you’re too spent in that moment—utterly lost, trembling as their cocks drives you to the edge of your own universe.
obscene noises mingling together as gojo fists a hand in your hair, tugging your head back and exposing your throat for his hungry lips. his other hand presses firmly on your back, pushing you down until your belly meets the solid warmth of dazai beneath you. the brunet's arms circle your waist, holding you steady, each of them guiding your trembling body into a perfect arch, pushing you to take them fully. so that they can bottom out inside you.
“fuck shit- shit shit feels so good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you feel around him.
“see? you're taking us so well haahh you should cut out the nonsense next time mghh” saturo lets out a throaty hybrid noise, a lewd mix between an amused laugh and a deep moan.
incoherent curses slipping past your wet lips as saturo prods and pinches the sensitive skin around your nipples. it's too much, the pleasure is too much, the pain is too much, the lewd squelch of your sexes as they slip in and out of you, feeling your orgasm build up again.
“mmuph yes please fuuuck don't stop ’m clos-e” your pleading whimpers betray you, just like your body does filled with hormonal lust pooling right into your core.
“fuck oh fu-ck keep squeezing me like that- ah” “hngh yes angel cum all over our cocks”
their voices blur together, indistinguishable as they both sound the same, each word flows into the next. and all you hear is the wet plap plap plap of their balls slapping against your sensitive skin.
you bounce back on their hardened lengths, finally riding out your sweet release. both men moan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression—eyes rolling back, tongue slipping from your mouth as drool and tears streak down your mascara-smudged cheeks, oh, such a beautiful sight to see, body flushed and trembling with sweat trickling down the valley of your breasts.
they’ve ruined you quite literally and turned you into thisーa wrecked mess, quivering each time their thick lengths press against every sensitive spot. with broken cries spilling from your bruised lips, they angle their hips just right, hitting your g-spot over and over.
as their hands glide down to press against the bulge in your lower belly, a wave of intense pleasure unfurls through you, stealing your breath and lighting up every nerve in a blinding crescendo. your vision blurs, flashes of light dancing behind your eyelids as if a galaxy has burst open within you, stars scattering and colliding in the depth of your being.
your juices gush against gojo's firm thighs and dazai's abdomen, soaking them in a glistening sheen under the low hotel lighting. both of them follow suit feeling how your walls flutter and tighten around them so perfectly, two loads of thick, hot cum paint your insides pearly white—the milky liquid reaching deep to your womb, though some of it inevitably leaks out, trickling down from your velvet walls.
once they pull out, they gently place you on the feathery pillows, but not before glancing one last time at your absolutely wrecked and dripping pussy, dripping with their mixed essence. they settle beside you, both of them relaxing into the plush bedding, they take deep breathes trying to calm down from their own high as they cast affectionate glances your way, ensuring you're comfortable and cared for after such an intense release.
“hey, are you okay, baby?” gojo is the first to ask, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face, “did we go too far?”
then dazai leans closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “you did well, angel, but we want to make sure you’re feeling good. do you need some water or anything?”
“just... hold me for a bit.”
you never would have guessed they could be this gentle, let alone attentive. you’d always imagined this would be wild and chaotic, maybe even a bit reckless, but here they were, treating you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
“of course, angel,” dazai replies softly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to his heaving chest. “we’ve got you.”
gojo follows, chuckling softly as his fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin. “if you need anything else, baby, just say it. we’re here to take care of you.”
you close your eyes, nestled between them, you never thought that you'd feel this safe and cared for as they whisper sweet nothings, ensuring you know just how much you’re adored.
TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelove @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock @vernasce-blogs @v1rtualdr3am5 @akyria-shyn @dazaistn @meowpmzai @ilikematcha
#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd dazai#dazai x reader#dazai x reader smut#gojo saturo#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#dazai#jujutsu kaisen x reader#bsd smut#bsd x reader smut#bsd#jujutsu satoru#dazai smut#dazai bungou stray dogs#satoru x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru
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DC x DP: Magic Older Brother
It happens the day of his high school graduation because Casper High is cursed, and the curse personally targets Danny. Danny doesn't care what anyone says. He will die on that hill.
The school is cursed, which is why he turned into a halfa in his freshmen year, throwing his life into chaos all throughout sophomore and junior year, and now that he was finally leaving it, this happens.
An attack by a ghost he has never seen or met before. She calls herself "Lady Gotham," and her name doesn't hint at her power or obsession, unlike other ghosts.
He finds it rather rude of her to burst the graduation ceremony just as they called his name.
Danny knew he could take her- she felt more like a city spirit than a ghost, which means she was terribly weak against Phantom- but with so many witnesses, he hadn't been able to transform. Instead, he was blasted with black tar paste that reverted him to the age of ten, and while he stumbled on tiny legs, she took him and threw him into a portal.
He had attempted to shift into his ghost side as soon as he landed, but something was anchoring his core. It felt like he had been hit with the Plasmius Maximus- his powers were out of reach.
He would not be able to take her in a fight after all.
Thankfully, she had been distracted by his parents attempting to rescue him, so she got trapped on the other side of the portal. Still, he felt it would be safer to get as far away from the random field she kidnapped him to before she could return.
So he was running in an unknown storm, to an unknown location from an unknown city spirit instead of having his graduation party with his friends and eating cake.
"Casper High just couldn't give up even on the last day," Danny grumbles while running through the pouring rain of a terrible storm, trying to see through the water and the howling wind. He was drenched head to toe in the water, and he could feel even his bones shaking. He hasn't been this cold since the day his Ice core materialized.
Up ahead, he spots a building. Praying they will take pity on him, he pushes himself to go faster until he's at the door, banging on it with his tiny fists.
"Is someone there? I need help!" He yells as the wind picks up again, almost throwing Danny off balance. "Open the door, please!"
The door cracks open, and one tiny blue eye peeks up at him briefly before it swings open. "Come in! Hurry!"
Danny doesn't need to be told twice as he all but throws himself into the giant building, away from what he is starting to suspect is a hurricane. He turns around to find a little boy- he couldn't be older than nine- struggling with closing the garage door. Danny is quick to help him, and together, after tucking and grunting, they get it shut.
"Thanks," Danny says trying to gather his breath. He glances around, startled to see he's in a big fancy house that reeks of money, maybe more than Vlad or Sam. It is also deadly silent and bare as if someone only attempted to make it look lived-in but forgot to get humans.
"Don't mention it." The kid says almost under his breath. Danny would think of him as shy if the boy wasn't staring at him without so much as blinking.
Kind of creepy.
"Are you here because of my poster?" The kid asks, and Danny has no idea what he's talking about, but he's not about to make the creepy kid angry.
"Sure am."
The boy beams. "This is the first time anyone has responded! Come this way. I have everything in the main ballroom!"
Danny follows eyes taking in all the tasteful decor of various cultures and the complete lack of any other person present. After getting stranded, he found a mansion tucked away from human contact in search of shelter. Strange how that has happened to him twice
The boy leads him to two large double doors which he proudly opens up with a loud "Ta-da!"
Inside the ballroom are rows and rows of bed cots, blankets, and pillows. On one side of the room are tables with water bottles, bowls of snacks, and even little goodie bags. There are board games on a nearby table and clothes folded neatly in various sizes. Next to the tables are piles of teddy bears.
It looks like a movie set of a makeshift shelter that could easily fit a hundred people. Again there is no one else but them. Double creepy.
The boy skips between the first two cots, gesturing to the room. "You're the first one here, so you can first pick! I have board games, food, and clothes for you to burrow at the front if you want! I'm sure we'll have more people soon if you come!"
Danny offers the kids a weak smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome! I'll go wait for everyone at the door. You make yourself comfortable."
While Danny cautiously explores, the kid races back to wait at the door for who knows who. The first thing he does is change into a warm set of clothes- picking a grey set of sweat pants and long sleeve that fits his tiny limbs. He grabs a water bottle and a bag of chips before his eyes land on a pile of brightly colored posters, likely forgotten on the table.
Strom Shelter for free at Drak Mansion
Everyone Welcome!
Sleeping, clothes, food and entertainment are provided!
Kids are invited to Tim Drake's birthday party on the same night!
Doors open at 5pm.
Oh gosh. Oh no.
He looks around the completely empty room and, for the first time, notices a small corner with a very sad "Happy Birthday" banner and a few party hats. At the edge of the table sits a folded half-sheet cake with a lopsided candle in the shape of a nine.
Above that little corner is a large clock that reads ten o'clock.
He puts his things down on a random cot, carefully returning to the front door where the little boy- he assumes Tim Drake- is waiting. He's leaning back and forth on his feet, and Danny can barely pick up his soft words.
"It's okay; they're all just really late. One person came this time so more could be on their way! Don't be sad, Tim. Things are looking up!"
Bless his heart.
Danny tries to reach for his ghost powers and grins when his ice core responds. He glances back at the little boy before he slips into the ballroom. He quickly re-decorates the party corner using his ice, making it look like actual decorations.
He even goes out of his way to open bottles of colored juices- he doubts anyone would drink them- and freezes the liquid so it adds a bit of color to the room. He's left with a winter wonderland with ice sculptures of animals- kids like animals, right?- and he gathers a birthday boy.
"Hey, Tim?"
The kid hurries to his side. "Yes? Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I need the birthday boy to cut his cake!"
Danny strong-arms the kid into the room and is delighted by the absolute happiness that blooms over the boy's face once he sees the room. "Wow! Did you do this?"
"Sure did, kid."
"Are you a wizard like Harry Potter?" The boy asks, and Danny has no idea who that is, but he nods anyway. Maybe it's this world's version of Santa Claus? Who is he to deny the kid's sense of wonder.
"Don't tell anyone." He says with a wink.
"But-But- but I'm a muggle!" The boy cries, suddenly horrified. Danny wonders if that's a slur, and if so, he won't allow him to use it to describe himself with it. "You'll get in trouble for using magic before me!"
"Why?"
"Cause muggles can't know about magic unless they are family! They'll throw you in Azkaban!"
Ugh, okay, he can work with that. "Well, I guess this makes us brothers, doesn't it?"
Tim's eyes practically pop right out of his skull. "Really?!
"Yeah, I'll be your big brother. My name is Danny and we can do something you always wanted to do for your birthday. How does that sound?"
"We can do....anything?"
"It depends on what you want to do, as long as it's legal and safe."
"Will.....you read me a bedtime story? I always wanted to know what that's like."
Danny's heart shatters. "Sure of course. What book do you want to read?"
Tim's face goes slightly pink. "The new Harry Potter book just came out. The goblet of fire? Can we read that?"
Oh, so Harry Potter is a book series! "Sure, Tim. Let's cut the cake and then we can pick a cot to pile blankets on to snuggle down and read."
Danny had never seen a kid look so happy in his life "Okay!"
Later, as Tim is tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, fast asleep after the exciting chapter of Harry Potter outflying a dragon Danny is visited by Lady Gotham.
It is only because Tim is too comfortable that he doesn't start swinging at her. She explains Tim's life and the obvious neglect before she bends down until her forehead touches the ground and begs Danny to care for him in her stead.
By morning, the Drakes suddenly acquire a new family member, and no one notices how he appeared overnight, but he's in the system, and no one can fault the documents. Lady Gotham made them herself.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Magic older brother#Lady Gotham gets Tim a breother#Harry Potter is a thing in Tim's world but not Danny's#Danny just kind of accepted it#Tim is so happy to have a brother
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Dog Days
dog dad!Nico Hischier x dog mom!reader
masterlist
summary: a dog park meet cute with the potential to change your life. or: months ago, @theemporium & i went down a spiral ab that picture of Nico & the dog with the devil horns. this fic is what came out of it. 10.1k words
warnings: mentions of alcohol, doodle slander (adopt don’t shop)
There’s a guy in the dog park who’s staring at you. Really, you should be more nervous about it, because he’s a large man, and you don’t know him, and he keeps looking at you. But his dog- Bernie, you think he called her- is cute, and she’s getting along great with your dog, so you’re a bit inclined to let it slide. Besides, he’s not being creepy. He’s probably just checking to make sure you’re okay with your dogs playing together. He’s here often- you recognize him well, but it’s the first time the dogs have taken interest in each other.
You watch another dog join the fray, some sort of hypoallergenic doodle, if you had to guess. The type that costs thousands of dollars for no apparent reason. It’s wearing a Patagonia puffy jacket, which makes you laugh. You hide it behind your hand. You watch as the dog bows low between your dog and Staring Guy’s dog, and then the doodle rolls over in the mud, and-
“Excuse me!” Someone yells. “Excuse me- hey, you! Is that your dog?”
You turn and blink, realizing the woman is talking to you. She’s storming your way in her matching Patagonia coat, face red with anger. You stare, eyes wide. Staring Guy is looking, too, not even trying to hide it now.
“Um. Which one?” You ask.
She gestures wildly. “The- that black mutt,” she hisses. You frown. “The one who was in the mud with my Bessie.”
Staring Guy snorts from his spot twenty feet away. Your eyes flicker to his, and he’s holding back laughter. You chew on your lip to keep yourself from doing the same.
“Yeah, that’s Moose,” you say, turning to look over your shoulder. Moose and Bernie have abandoned Bessie in the mud, more interested in sticks. “Sorry, is something wrong?”
“Yes! My dog is covered in mud now!” The woman snaps, and you rear your head back. “I mean, honestly-“
“Oh, yeah, she really seemed to like that puddle,” you agree, nodding. “You know how dogs are.”
She shakes her head angrily. “Not my Bessie. She’d never do that. So.”
“So?”
“So are you going to pay for her grooming? And the dry cleaner for her coat, oh, that coat-“ the woman sighs. “She’d have never done this if she hadn’t been influenced-“
You turn to look over your shoulder, to where Bessie is still rolling in the mud. “I’m sorry. Are you trying to say my dog influenced yours to roll in the mud? And now you want me to pay for- you understand how ridiculous you sound, right?”
She huffs. “Bessie is a well behaved, purebred Bernedoodle. Yours is-“
She stammers, so you fill in the gap. “Moose is a rescue.”
“Right, so-“ she waves her hand. “You see what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.” You say, incredulously.
The woman is so angry, now, that her whole face has gone beet red. She lurches towards you, and you take a couple steps back. Her hands are in fists at her sides. You’re not exactly afraid of her, but you hadn’t been planning on getting into a fistfight in the dog park, and she’s making you feel a little uneasy.
“Hey,” a deep voice says. You turn and find Staring Guy, walking up with his hands in his pockets, brows furrowed. “Everything okay?”
You widen your eyes at him, praying he gets the message. He sends you a smile, turning up the corners of his mouth softly. He has a kind face, warm brown eyes, thick eyebrows that arch over them. The woman goes off on her tirade again, about her precious Bessie and your awful influence of a mutt, and how you hadn’t done anything to stop them from playing in the mud. Staring Guy’s dog comes trotting up as she goes on and on, and Moose isn’t far behind. He winds himself in front of your legs, and you reach down to fix one of his ears, the one that always gets flipped inside out. Bessie isn’t far behind. You chew on your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of her, soaked in mud.
“Oh, that’s probably Bernie’s fault, actually,” Staring Guy says, dark brows furrowed. “She really loves the mud. She’s the one who started it.”
The woman splutters. “Oh- but- well- I’m not sure-“
Staring Guy shakes his head. He takes a couple steps forward, effectively placing himself between you and her. Your heart melts just a little. Moose looks up at him, and his ear flips back inside out. You sigh at the sight of him- he is covered in mud, and it’s going to be a pain to get him cleaned up.
“I just think she should’ve tried to keep them out of the mud.” The woman says, though she’s calmed down a bit.
Staring Guy’s deep voice and large stature seem to have calmed her down a bit. If you’re being honest, he’s calmed you, too. He’d make a good mediator, you think. He’s soothing.
“It’s a dog park, not a doggy day care,” he says, voice a little bit more tense. “You’re responsible for your own dog. Says so on the sign.”
The woman huffs and looks between the two of you. She seems to realize she’s getting nowhere, and she marches off, leash in hand, headed for poor Bessie, who’s likely in for the bath of a lifetime. You and Staring Guy watch her go, staring as she stomps across the park, to the gate, and all the way out to her shiny car. She steps in a puddle on the way out and splatters mud up her jeans. You hunch over and start to giggle.
Staring Guy lets out a laugh, too. “That was fucking ridiculous,” he says.
You nod, unable to speak as the laughter takes over. Moose sits down on the grass and stares up at you. Bernie sits down next to him and does the same. They both look incredibly concerned. You wipe tears of laughter from your eyes and stand up.
“I mean, she’s probably right, Moose is definitely a bad influence,” you say, cooing down at your dog. “I mean, look at him.”
Staring Guy laughs and tilts his head. “His name’s Moose?”
“Basic, I know,” you shrug. “They were calling him that at the shelter. I felt bad changing it, so here we are.”
Staring Guy shakes his head. “No, I like it. It’s a good name. This is Bernie,” he says, nudging his dog with his knee. “And I’m Nico.”
He sticks out his hand to shake. You do so, and introduce yourself, too. He repeats your name back to you with a soft smile. Bernie seems to take this as a sign, and she walks up to you, sniffing the air, tail wagging wildly. You crouch down to pet her, running your hands through her thick, sandy fur. She pants happily.
“She’s adorable,” you say, looking up at Nico. “Golden retriever?”
He shrugs. “Mostly, I think. She’s a rescue. I thought about doing one of those dog DNA things, but…”
“It never feels important enough,” you fill in. He’s scratching Moose’s head, and he nods, grinning. “Moose is a rescue, too.”
“They’re the best kind of dogs,” he says, finding the spot behind Moose’s ear that makes his left leg thump against the ground. Nico laughs. “No Schnoodles or Whoodles for me.”
You laugh and stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans. Moose looks between you and Nico, tail wagging happily. Not for the first time, you wonder what he’s thinking. You wish you could read his mind.
“Well, we’ve got to go,” Nico says, toying with the dog leash. “But it was nice to meet you.”
“It was nice to meet you both,” you say, giving Bernie one last head pat. “Thanks for your help.”
He shrugs. “Not a problem.”
…..
Weeks slip by, and Nico stays a constant in them. Wednesdays and Fridays, you find him at the dog park in the mid afternoon, Bernie waiting eagerly for you to let moose off his leash. The two of you chat and watch your dogs play and then bid each other farewell to go back to your own lives. It’s nice. He’s nice.
“Are you busy?” Nico asks one afternoon, shoulder nearly touching yours.
Moose and Bernie are playing in a pile of leaves, a week post Bessie-mud incident. You watch as the wind picks one up, and Moose chases after it. Bernie chases after him. You turn to look at Nico, feeling slightly confused.
“Like, now?” You ask.
He nods. “Now, and for a little while? There’s this dog friendly coffee shop down the street. I was going to take Bernie there. Though maybe you’d want to come with me.”
Your heart jumps. He wants you to come with? He wants to see you outside of this dog park, outside of the primary meeting spot. He wants to see you.
You nod. “Yeah, sure, that sounds sweet. You’re not gonna murder me, right?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, I’m not. Has anyone ever said yes to that?”
“Nope,” you say. “And I’m still alive, so it’s working.”
The two of you gather up the dogs and head for the coffee shop. They walk together happily on their leashes- matching ones from the same brand. You and Nico chat about the leashes, and dog supplies in general, and your favorite pet stores. By the time you make it to the coffee shop, you’ve run out of dog topics and moved on to other ones. You talk about coffee and New Jersey and home- which is Switzerland, for Nico, which explains the accent. You order coffee and pastries and take a seat at one of the outdoor tables. The early afternoon sun is shining down. There’s an autumn chill in the air, but the sun takes the edge off.
Nico gets dodgy when you start talking about work. At first, you wonder if he’s some sort of politician- he has the face for it- or a business guy. He doesn’t seem like the type to work in the tall buildings in the city, crunching numbers and barking orders. You’re not sure what else would’ve brought him to the US from Switzerland, though.
“D’you watch hockey?” He asks, and you blink.
“Not really,” you shrug. “It was never my thing. A few of my friends are big fans, though.”
“Of the Devils?” He asks, nodding his head down the street, where, if you walked far enough, you’d find the Prudential Center, home of New Jersey hockey.
You nod and swallow a sip of your coffee. “Mhm. S’that what you do for work? You work for the Devils?”
He shrugs, then nods. “Basically.”
You let it go, then. Maybe he’s just trying to be careful- after all, he barely knows you. You’d done the same, been careful about not telling him where you work. He seems trustworthy enough, but you can never be too careful. The two of you move on to more important topics- which donuts are best, and what the best restaurants in town are. The afternoon slips away quickly and quietly, and you only realize you’re late when your friend calls you.
“Shit,” you mutter, standing up. “I know I said I wasn’t busy but- I have to meet my friends for drinks, and I’m probably going to be late-“
“It’s okay,” Nico says, softly. “I’ve gotta go too. But this was really nice.”
You smile softly. “It was. We should do it again sometime.”
You both wave goodbye and take off down the street in different directions- you, back towards your apartment to drop off Moose, and him towards his, you assume. You can’t wipe the smile off your face the whole way, and it’s still stuck there by the time you slip into the booth at the restaurant a half hour later.
“I’m so sorry,” you gush, as your friend Alyssa sends you a glare. “I was out at the dog park with Moose, and then I lost track of time, and-“
Your other friend Nora laughs. “Were you too busy staring at Dog Park Guy?”
Your face grows hot. “His name’s Nico.”
Both of them blink at you. “Did you actually talk to him?”
You let out a long sigh and launch into the story- Bessie and her bitchy owner, Nico’s rescue, the increased interactions, and the cafe today. Their eyes grow impossibly wider.
“Sounds like a meet cute,” Nora squeals.
“If he’s cute,” Alyssa adds.
You roll your eyes and ignore the looks they’re giving you. “We’re just friends. Because our dogs are friends.”
“Like I said,” Nora says. “Cute.”
Eventually they drop the subject. You have your drinks and catch up, and make plans to hang out again the next night. Alyssa wants to watch the hockey game. She’s the biggest Devils fan you know, could name every player and all of their stats. You and Nora agree to watch, as long as she provides the alcohol.
You show up just after the game starts the next afternoon, Moose in tow. You snag a plate and grab some snacks and join Alyssa on the couch.
“Can you grab me a beer?” You call out to Nora, who’s in the kitchen.
She returns with a bottle in hand, passing it off to you. You thank her and curl up further on the couch, turning to look at the TV. You wonder if Nico’s working, if he has to be at the games or if he does more of the behind the scenes stuff. Maybe he runs the charity branch. That would fit him. You take a sip of your beer, and then nearly spit it right back out.
You turn to Alyssa, who has the remote, and make a frantic gesture. “Rewind it.”
“What?” She asks, not looking away from the TV. “It’s a power play, I’m not gonna-“
“Rewind it,” you say again, reaching for the remote. “Lyss, just-“
“What’s wrong?” Nora asks, frowning at you. “You don’t care about hockey.”
“No, I know, I just- I thought I saw someone,” you say, staring at the screen.
“In the crowd?” Nora asks. You don’t answer, so she says your name. “Babe, what is going on?”
Before you can answer, Alyssa throws her hands up in the air and cheers. Goal. The puck is in the back of the net, and the camera zooms in on the player who scored- number 86, the name Hughes emblazoned on his back. One of his teammates comes skating towards him, nearly shoving him into the wall, and-
You gasp when the camera settles on his face. Number 13, Hischier. Nico Hischier, you would assume, unless Dog Park Nico has a doppleganger hanging around Newark. A doppleganger who also works for the Devils. You work for the Devils? Basically. Oh. Nora doesn’t seem to notice anything, but Alyssa turns to you slowly, eyes wide.
“Wait,” she says. “You wanted me to rewind it, to where?”
“It’s fine,” you mutter.
She’s staring at you, while you stare at the TV screen. “You said Dog Park Guy’s name was Nico,” she says, brows furrowed. “What’s his last name?”
You shrug. “Haven’t asked him yet.”
She blinks once, then twice, and when you see Nico on the screen again, you must react, because she leans over and grabs your face. She pulls you to look at her, then at the screen. She grabs the remote and pauses it, and Nico’s face fills up the whole picture. He’s grinning wide.
“What’s happening right now?” Nora asks. “Somebody fill me in.”
Alyssa points at the screen. “That man, right there, is the team captain. Hischier,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect. “Nico Hischier.”
Nora gasps. You shrink down into yourself. You can’t exactly tear your eyes from the screen. It’s definitely him. You’d know that face anywhere. You can see the smile, can picture it in the dog park as he pets your dog.
“Is that Dog Park Guy?” Nora asks. You nod, figuring there’s no point in lying now. “Oh my god, you didn’t mention he was hot.”
Alyssa groans. “I’ve never been more jealous of you in my life.”
“You’re engaged,” Nora reminds her.
“I know,” Alyssa sighs. “But god, he’s dreamy.”
Nora nods. You curl further in on yourself and reach for the remote to hit play. The game starts back up again, and you try to pretend you’re not watching for his number. Nora and Alyssa don’t let it go for the rest of the night. You have a feeling they won’t be letting it go for a while.
When you see him next Wednesday at the dog park, you greet him with, “Hiya, Cap.”
You’ve walked up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. Bernie and Moose are rolling around in fallen leaves. Nico smiles at you at first, and then, as if he’s realized what you said, he jolts. His brows furrow, and you grin.
“You work for the Devils, huh?” You tease, grinning widely.
His cheeks go red, and he laughs. “You said you didn’t care about hockey.”
“I don’t,” you admit. “But my friend Alyssa does, and she had the game on when I was at her place the other day, and imagine my surprise when I looked up at the screen and saw you on the ice.”
He smiles sheepishly and shakes his head. “Honestly, I didn’t tell you because I thought it’d come off as bragging.”
Moose barks, and you both turn to look, but he’s just playing with Bernie. The two of them have found a stick in the leaves, and they’re pulling back and forth. Bernie has a leaf stuck to her nose, and it makes you smile even more.
“It’s pretty cool, though, isn’t it?” You ask. “Lyss said you’re like. A rockstar. Team captain, first round draft pick-“
“Oh, she went way back,” he teases.
“She’s a Jersey girl,” you say with a shrug. “You’re lucky she’s already engaged or she’d be here, too.”
He laughs louder at that, and his shoulder bumps against yours. Across the grass, your dogs roll around on the ground, happy as can be. It makes you smile wider, makes your heart warm.
…..
Early fall turns into late fall, a change that brings with it colder weather, something you’re already regretting not noticing. Nico frowns when he sees you in the park. He makes his way over as Bernie runs to greet Moose, and he has his brows furrowed. He’s wearing a beanie and a thick hoodie, and you envy him.
“Almost didn’t recognize you,” he says, tugging at the hood of your thin sweatshirt, which you have pulled tightly over your head. “Where’s your coat? And a beanie, maybe?”
You shrug and bury your hands deeper in your pockets- you don’t want him to see you’re not wearing gloves either. “I live on the third floor. It looked warm out, and by the time I got outside, there was no way I was dragging him back upstairs.”
You shrink slightly under the disapproving look he gives you. He sighs heavily, and you smile at him, like that’ll make it better. You want nothing more than to bury your face in his chest, press yourself into his body and soak up some of the heat. You’re sure he’s warm. He just looks like he runs warm.
You don’t stay long at the park, because your hands are freezing and so is your face. Nico bids you farewell with a little wave, and you rush home to your warm apartment.
Two days later, when you show up to the dog park, Nico’s already there. Bernie’s running circles around him, barking happily. She skids to a stop when she spots Moose, and you let him off the leash to join her. Nico waves, a big grin on his face as the two dogs take off together.
“Still no beanie?” He teases, shaking his head.
“I thought the cold day was a fluke,” you mutter grumpily, hands shoved in your pockets. “I worked from home today. I didn’t know it was this cold.”
Nico continues to shake his head. His next move is so unexpected you don’t quite realize what he’s doing until it’s over- he pulls a beanie from his pocket and pulls it onto your head for you, adjusting it carefully with narrowed eyes. You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips. Then he slips his jacket off his shoulders.
“Nico-“ you protest as he wraps it around you.
“I wore layers, and I’m warm,” he says, holding the jacket around your shoulders and waiting until you slip your arms through the sleeves reluctantly. “Better?”
His jacket is warm and cozy, and you smile and nod. “Much better.”
He grins back, eyes crinkling at the edges. His cheeks are flushed, and it makes your face feel warm, too. You shove your hands in your pockets- his pockets- and turn back to watch the dogs, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with him. The very first flakes of snow of the year begin to fall. Moose and Bernie don’t seem to notice. If Nico notices the way you lean close to him, trying to shelter yourself from the cold, he doesn’t say anything.
…..
The next time you see Nico, he’s stressed. He’s got his beanie off, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. Bernie, as if she senses his distress, is sitting at his feet patiently, even though her leash is off. You let Moose run over. He sniffs at Bernie, then at Nico’s knee, and whines.
“You’re really bringing down the mood,” you call out.
Nico’s head whips up, bottom lip still tugged between his teeth. Something twists in your chest. You don’t like to see him upset like this, you realize. You’re growing far too attached. And yet. Here you are.
You cock your head questioningly. “You okay?”
He sighs. “Sorry. Yeah. Just- my usual dog sitter apparently moved and didn’t tell me until this morning, and I have to be out of town starting tomorrow, and so now I’m trying to find someone to watch her or somewhere to board her and-“
“I can take her,” you blurt out.
His rambling comes to a screeching halt, and he blinks at you. “I don’t want to inconvenience you, or…”
“Don’t be silly,” you say, shaking your head and smiling. “Her and Moose get along great, and I already know half of her routine. And I think she likes me alright, too. It wouldn’t be a hassle.”
Nico puffs out his cheeks, glancing up at the sky. “That would be… are you sure? Because. I mean-“
“Nico,” you say, softly. His gaze flickers back to yours. “I’d love to watch her. How long are you gonna be gone?”
He bites his lip again. “Friday through Sunday.”
You nod. “Easy peasy.”
You should probably be expecting it, just because it seems like something he would do, but you yelp a little when he hauls you against his chest. You hug him back, though, and laugh into his shoulder, and the dogs both bark at your feet. Then Bernie takes off running, as if she knows everything is fine now. Moose follows happily.
“Thank you,” he says, chest rumbling against you, and your breath catches.
“Anytime,” you respond. You mean it.
He drops Bernie off the next morning before you start work for the day. He texts you from the lobby of your apartment building to let you know they’re headed up, which is sweet. You hear Bernie before he knocks on the door, and when you open it, Moose perks up from his dog bed. He’s up within seconds, tail wagging, searching through his pile of toys for one to bring Bernie.
“Look at them,” you coo, watching the two dogs greet each other happily. “We’re gonna have such a fun weekend, aren’t we, Bernie?”
Nico’s smiling, too, when you look up and meet his gaze. He has a dog bed tucked under one arm, and a bag of other supplies in the other. You let the dogs play while he unpacks the stuff on your kitchen counter and tells you what little you don’t know about Bernie’s routine. When she eats, what toys are her favorites, and so on.
“Normally I tell people about the dog park,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “But you already know that.”
You nod eagerly. In the living room, Bernie is sniffing Moose’s dog bed.
“Oh, um. Sometimes for the first bit she won’t want to eat,” he says. “I got her when she was young, and it was during the lockdown, so. She wasn’t used to being away from me. She’s gotten better about it, but… if she goes too long, you can put a little cheese on her food and that usually helps.”
You nod in understanding. “Moose was the same the first time I left him. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her.”
Nico laughs. “I think this is actually the least worried I’ve been about leaving her, ever.”
You set up Bernie’s dog bed in the living room, a little ways away from Moose’s to give them each their space. Nico lays out her favorite toys for her, and a threadbare red hoodie that you’d bet used to be his. He wavers in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, watching as Bernie inspects her stuff. It makes your chest ache a little bit. He seems reluctant to leave.
“D’you have time to sit for a little bit?” You ask. “I have plenty of coffee.”
He turns over his shoulder and grins. “Coffee would be great.”
It should probably feel strange, to have Dog Park Guy sitting at your kitchen table, sipping coffee out of a big mug that looks small in his hands, but it doesn’t. It feels almost natural. Like this was always how this was going to go. He tells you about the away game he’s going to play, about their odds and the other team and how he’s stuck sharing a hotel room with Jack, who he loves but who also talks in his sleep loudly and denies it. You laugh and commiserate & complain to him about your work day, which is full of meetings. By the time the coffee is gone, he doesn’t really seem to want to leave, but he tells you he has to finish packing and get to the rink, and you’ve got a meeting anyways, so. You walk him to the door. He crouches down to pet Bernie one more time, and lets out a big sigh.
“I’ll see you all soon,” he says, smiling. “Have a good weekend.”
Bernie sits down and stares at him. You see his smile waver, so you step forward and pat the top of her head gently, then scratch behind her ears the way you’ve seen Nico do so often.
“Be safe,” you tell him. “We’ll be here waiting.”
Bernie does get a little sad just after he leaves. You feel for her, because you’re strangely sad about him being gone, too. You take most of your work meetings from the couch so she can curl up with her head on your lap. Moose keeps bringing over his favorite toys and dropping them off for her, but she doesn’t take much interest. Nico texts around lunchtime, just before he’s getting on a plane, and asks how it’s going. You send back a picture of her head in your lap, your work meeting in the background.
she seems very interested in Carol’s progress report.
Nico sends back a little laughing emoji, and then She looks cozy. Thank you again!
After work, you leash up both dogs and walk down to the dog park. You want to keep Bernie’s routine as consistent as possible. The two of them do so well together, walking happily, never tugging on the leashes. You snap a pic of them, and send that to Nico, too. He probably won’t see it for a while.
Once you’re at the dog park, you let them off leash to run around. They take off together, barking happily, kicking up piles of dead leaves like the always do. You sit on a bench and fight the urge to text Nico.
It’s just that in the couple of months since you finally spoke to him, you’ve found yourself really looking forward to your dog park chats. Venting about your days or catching up or telling fun stories about your dogs. It’s not the first time he’s been gone, but it’s the first time it’s hit you like this. It’s odd.
You take them both home eventually, calling them over and clipping on the leashes. Back in your apartment, it’s dinnertime- you heat up leftovers for yourself and give the dogs their food. You try not to watch Bernie like a hawk. Nico had said she might not want to eat at first. But when you do sneak a peek, they’re both eating happily. You breathe a sigh of relief- she must feel comfortable enough.
They wander off into the living room before you do, and what you find makes you stop in your tracks. Bernie’s got her dog bed in her mouth, dragging it over next to Moose’s. He sits on his bed happily, wagging his tail at you. Bernie drops the bed and immediately curls up on it, letting out one of her signature big sighs, the ones that Nico always copies. You let out a matching sigh, and she wags her tail.
You snap a picture of the two of them curled up next to each other and send it off to Nico.
He replies just before you roll over to go to sleep. Did she move her bed??
Yup, you answer. Ate all her dinner, too
He takes a while to type his response.
Adorable. Thank you. Again.
…..
You’re not a hockey fan. You know this about yourself. You’ve watched games enough times to know this. But when Saturday rolls around, you turn on the game anyway. Bernie should watch the game, after all. She should watch her dad play.
You cuddle up on the couch with both dogs, who are definitely paying less attention to the screen than you are. They both fall asleep halfway through the first period, and you roll your eyes. You could turn it off, but you find that you don’t want to. It’s suddenly different when you have a reason to be invested. Nico’s on the ice, at least for some of the time.
When he scores, you cheer so loudly you startle both dogs awake. They look around, bewildered. You snap a pic of the two of them with the tv in the background and send it to him.
Bernie & Moose say good job!!
He doesn’t answer until you’re in bed for the night, again. Time differences and media responsibilities and all that. He heart reacts to the photo, and then you watch him type for a couple moments, the little dots bouncing at the bottom of the screen.
How’d you like the game? He asks.
You waffle a bit on what to say back. You wonder if he’s paying enough attention to notice you’re taking a while to answer, or if he’s moved on.
You settle for sending back, it’s a lot more fun to watch when i’m cheering for you
He’s typing back nearly immediately. My good luck charm!
You laugh and lock the phone, setting it down on the nightstand. Bernie and Moose are curled up in bed with you, snoring away. You’re not sure why you feel so happy, but you hope it brings you good dreams.
Nico gets back into town late Sunday afternoon.
There’s a knock on your apartment door. From the couch, you call out “Come in!”
You hear him kick off his shoes in the entryway as he calls out a greeting. He pads towards the living room, and you lean up slightly to see him as he walks in.
“You should really lock your door, you know,” he says. “I could’ve been anyone.”
“But you’re you,” you lilt as he rounds the corner of the couch. “Besides, I’ve got my guard dogs.”
He eyes you skeptically. The dogs are in their same spots as the picture you sent him yesterday. Moose is curled against your chest, while Bernie is laid out over your legs. You’re tucked under a blanket, smiling up at him. Neither of the dogs have moved a muscle, from the knock on the door until now.
“Great guard dogs,” Nico teases.
“Well, they know you. Bernie, look who’s here,” you say. His dog lifts her head, wagging her tail slightly. You shrug. “Guess she likes me more.”
“Can’t blame her,” Nico says, stretching his arms above his head. “You guys look cozy.”
“And you look tired.”
You’re not trying to be mean, but he does. There are purple shadows beneath his eyes, his hair is a mess. The scrubs along his jaw looks to be at least a day old, by your guess.
He snorts. “Thanks. I am.”
You pout. “You could join us, if you want.”
You shift your feet slightly to open up a space for him on the other end of the couch. He eyes the spot with a tired gaze, scrubbing his hand against his jaw. You’re trying to ask casually, to pretend like it won’t make a difference to you one way or the other if he stays or not, but you really do hope he sits down. You’ve missed him- it’s almost embarrassing how much you’ve missed him.
“If I do that I’m definitely gonna pass out,” he warns, voice quieter. “Probably for an extended period of time.”
You nod. “I’d expect nothing less.”
He huffs and drops his car keys on the coffee table. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You laugh when he climbs his way onto the couch. He sits down at the opposite end, his legs side by side with yours. The dogs move to accommodate him, though not without their own grumbling about it. Bernie finally gives in and gets excited to see him, fumbling her way onto his lap. He wraps his arms around his dog and snuggles in, all while you watch, unable to pull your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. He’s here, in your apartment, on your couch. He looks so soft.
When he falls asleep in no more than ten minutes, it makes you feel even warmer. He trusts you enough to fall asleep here. Bernie is curled against his chest, also falling asleep, reunited at last. You find yourself dozing off, too, brought on by how comfortable it all feels.
You wake up to Bernie pacing back and forth on the living room floor, and Moose standing on the couch, his nose in Nico’s face. You scramble to push the dog away with muffled words and limited success. Nico sniffles and raises his head, scrunching his eyes shut in the face of the sun coming in through your window.
“Sorry,” you whisper, fighting the urge to brush strands of his hair from his eyes. “They're getting antsy.”
He’s adorable when he’s just woken up, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed. He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand and pets Moose with the other. You get up and start to gather the dogs’ things while he continues to wake up. By the time you’ve got them both leashed up, he’s sitting up on the couch, brighter eyes than before.
“Best nap of my life,” he says.
You think of how much you wanted to cuddle up on his chest, and you wonder if that would take the winning spot.
Nico puts on his jacket at the door, taps his foot impatiently until you roll your eyes and pull on a jacket of your own, and then the two of you head out, dogs in tow. You keep your hands shoved in your pockets, but when you get to the dog park he hands you a pair of gloves, glaring playfully at you. You put them on, feeling warm and fuzzy, and not just from the fabric around your hands. You let the dogs off the leashes in the fenced in area, and you watch them run off through the light snow.
You bump your elbow against his. “You okay? You’re quiet.”
He nods, leans towards you until you’re shoulder to shoulder. “Yeah. M’good. Just tired.”
You nod in understanding. “C’mon, let’s sit.”
You head over to a nearby bench and sink down. He follows suit. And. It’s cold, so really, that’s probably why he sits so close, his thigh against yours, his side pressed to your side. But then he shifts slightly, and his arm falls to the top of the bench behind you. You try not to hold your breath. Across the park, Bernie and Moose bark happily. You lean your head against Nico’s shoulder, and he sighs happily, resting his head against yours.
He sighs. “Wake me up when they’ve worn themselves out.”
He’s joking- he doesn’t fall asleep, you’d be able to tell. You can feel his breaths, can feel him shift every so often, and he laughs when the dogs tackle each other in the snow. But he stays right there, curled against you, warmer than any jacket or pair of gloves could ever be.
…..
When people say it takes a village, you’re pretty sure it could be said about having dogs, too. You’re amazed at how much easier things are when you have Nico to help out. He’s insistent that he owes you one for watching Bernie, but it really turns into the two of you just trading dog duties.
You get held over at the office on one of the rare days you have to be in person, and he picks up Moose and takes him along to the park with Bernie. Nico gets stuck in traffic on the way home from a game in New York City, and you do the same, leaving a container of leftovers in the fridge for him, too. The dog park meetups and coffee shop hangouts keep happening, much to your benefit. You like spending time with him. Probably a bit more than is healthy, really, but you can’t exactly help it. He’s sweet, and funny, and handsome, too, to top it all off.
When you call him early on a Tuesday evening, you know he’ll pick up, because he’s done with practice for the day. He probably assumes you’re checking what time he’s going to be at the dog park, or letting him know you and Moose won’t be there. He gets nervous, now, if you don’t show up. Texts to make sure you’re alright. It’s endearing.
“Hello,” he says. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break Bernie’s heart and miss out on the dog park tonight.”
“Hi, no- my… my power’s out,” you say, sounding as frantic as you feel. “And like. It’s fine, I’ll survive, but it’s already cold in here, and Moose is giving me evil eyes. But I can’t find any dog friendly hotels, so I was wondering if maybe you could take him for the night-“
Nico laughs on the other end. “Come stay with us. Both of you.”
You pause your digging through the cupboards. “Oh, you don’t have to- that’s okay, Nico-“
“I mean it,” he says, firmly. “I’ve got a spare bedroom. And I just ordered way too much pizza, actually. Come over, bring Moose. Bernie’s bored, anyways.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” you tell him.
“You could never,” he says. “If you’re not here within a half hour, I’m driving over there to pick you up.”
He hangs up before you can protest again, and you turn to Moose with a sigh. Then you start packing for both of you. 20 minutes later, you’re in the elevator up to Nico’s place, trying not to freak out about all of it.
He lets you in before you even have a chance to knock. Maybe it’s just the fact that your place was cold, but when he ushers you inside, it feels like he’s cranked the heat up a few degrees. Bernie comes racing to the entryway, whining excitedly at the sight of Moose, and you grin down at the two dogs. Then you look up at Nico and find him smiling, too.
“I’ll show you to the guest room,” he offers, nodding his head towards the rest of the apartment. “Pizza should be here any minute.”
It all feels oddly domestic, staying with him. You eat dinner together and watch the news- a habit he picked up from a roommate back in his days playing hockey in Canada, he tells you. Moose and Bernie cuddle up in the middle between the two of you, which you sort of hate. You want an excuse to lean into his side.
You get one when you get up to go to the bathroom. You come back, and both dogs have moved into your spot. Nico smiles up at you and shrugs, patting the spot right next to him. You take a seat without protesting, settling into the soft sofa. He moves the blanket he’s been using so it falls over your lap and rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your head. It probably means nothing, but being so close to him feels nice. Comforting.
When you start to doze off, he nudges you awake and towards the guest room. You fight the urge to lean up and kiss his cheek when he says goodnight. Moose follows you into the room, and you shut the door behind you.
You want to kiss Nico. This is becoming a problem.
It’s just. He’s nice. He’s sweet. He’s a good friend, he helps you take care of your dog, he’s letting you stay with him. But he’s an athlete, and they usually date other famous people, not their dog park friends. You’ve got no chance, probably.
You would roll over and scream into the pillow, but you’re afraid he’d hear it anyways.
…..
You’re standing in his kitchen early the next morning when the front door creaks open. You freeze in surprise- you’d assumed from the fan running in Nico’s bedroom, and the quiet of the apartment, that he’d still been asleep. Maybe he’d gone out for a run already, or had gone to take Bernie for a walk. Footsteps echo in the entryway, and you hear someone trip over a pair of shoes. The muttered swear word is definitely not said in Nico’s voice, and panic bites at your chest. You reach for one of the knives on the counter and hold it at your side. Moose, seeming to sense your anxiety, steps in front of your legs. Your phone sits too far away on the counter, and you swallow. You could yell for Nico, but then whoever is in his apartment would hear you, too.
The footsteps fall closer. The man appears in the doorway to the kitchen, and he jumps nearly a foot in the air at the sight of you, hand pressed to his chest. He looks familiar, with his almost shoulder length hair tucked behind his ears- one of Nico’s teammates. There’s a photo of the two of them hanging on the wall in the living room. You drop the knife on the counter discreetly when he isn’t looking.
“You’re not Nico,” he says, leaning on the counter.
“Neither are you,” you state, heart still racing.
He laughs at that and eyes the dog in front of you. “And that’s not Bernie, huh?”
He leans towards the dog, and Moose presses against your legs and growls. You gasp. Apparently, he hasn’t quite gotten the memo that whoever this guy is, he isn’t a threat. You reach for his collar.
“Moose,” you say in a scolding tone.
“Oh,” the man says, drawing out the noise, a look of understanding washing over his face. “Cool wolf. Is he gonna bite me? I have hockey practice later.”
There’s a flurry of noise before you can respond, and Bernie comes loping into the kitchen. She beelines for the guy, and at that, Moose lets his guard down, his tail wagging happily again. You roll your eyes. A great guard dog until his friend likes the guy, then all bets are off. Nico appears in the kitchen, scratching his head, and his eyes go wide when he spots his teammate.
“Jack,” he says, and the man turns to look at him. “What are you doing here?”
The man rubs his face sheepishly. Your dog scurries over to Nico, sniffing at his ankles excitedly. Your gaze bounces back and forth between the two men.
“You’re Jack,” you say, looking at the early morning intruder.
He nods.
You laugh. “I hear you talk in your sleep.”
Nico sighs while Jack tries desperately to deny it.
Ten minutes later, once Nico’s explained the whole situation, they head off on a run. They take Bernie and Moose with them, on Nico’s suggestion, because both dogs could use a bit of exercise, and, in his words, Jack could use a bit of motivation. While they’re out, you take a moment to tidy up your stuff, and you do the dishes from the night before. Nico had insisted you were welcome to any of the food in the house, so you whip up a light breakfast of cut fruit and yogurt, making sure to save some for him.
He returns a while later, both dogs in tow, minus Jack. He gives you a sheepish smile, sweaty locks of hair falling over his forehead. His t-shirt is clinging to his skin, damp with sweat despite the chill outside. You chew on a piece of strawberry and try not to stare at him.
“Sorry about him,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “I forgot he was coming over. He called, but I had my phone turned down and I slept through it.”
You shrug. “Nico, it’s fine, it’s your apartment,” you say. “Though I did have a knife ready, so he’s lucky he didn’t get stabbed.”
Nico laughs and takes a couple steps into the kitchen, leaning on his hands on the counter. “The Devils hockey organization thanks you for your hesitation.”
You laugh and nod. “I have breakfast, if you want some.”
When he squeezes your shoulder as he walks by, you try not to let it show how nice it feels.
“Thanks, schatz,” he says.
You don’t know much German, but you’re pretty sure that doesn’t mean friend.
…..
Nico goes to practice a bit later and then comes back. The power at your place stays out for the rest of the day. You keep checking, trying to make sure. Realistically, now, you could call Alyssa or Nora and ask to stay with them, instead, but when you offer, Nico looks offended at the suggestion.
He’s laying on the floor with Bernie and Moose both sprawled over him. “I mean. If you want to go, you can, obviously.”
“I just don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you tell him.
He shakes his head and lets it drop back to the floor. Moose shoves his nose under Nico’s chin. “You’re not.”
That’s pretty much the end of the discussion. The two of you take the dogs out to a nearby cafe for a late lunch, a place Nico tells you is dog friendly. He makes sure you’re both bundled up adequately for the chilly walk there and back. In the afternoon, you get some work done on your laptop, Bernie’s head on your lap, while Nico scrolls aimlessly on his phone and plays tug of war with Moose. The routine feels scarily easy to settle into. You make dinner together, pasta and chicken and broccoli. You move around one another with ease, like moons in each other’s orbits. The dogs wait patiently in the living room while you cook. Nico gives them pieces of chicken for their good behavior, and then you dish out dog food while he refills their water bowls. It’s nice. It’s so nice. You’re trying desperately not to get attached to this, to him.
You wake up the next morning to Moose and Bernie in your bed, a text from Nico saying he took them on their morning walk before he left for morning skate, and an alert from your apartment complex that the power is back on. You sigh, kiss the top of Bernie’s head, and roll back over in bed.
He’s gone for most of the day, today, between practices and media requirements and meetings with the team that he’d complained about to you the night before. You could pack up and leave before he gets back, but then you’d be leaving Bernie alone, and it feels weird to not say goodbye to Nico after he let you stay here. So you spend the day how you were planning to, and gather up your things bit by bit.
Nico comes home in the afternoon when you’re halfway packed, and he stands in the doorway of the guest room, seemingly hesitant. He’s frowning. Your heart lurches.
“My power’s back on,” you say quietly.
“Oh,” he responds. “Right. That’s, uh, that’s good.”
You nod. “Just realized I’ll probably have to clean out my fridge, and get new groceries, but yeah. I’ll be out of your hair.”
He frowns, nose wrinkling. “You weren’t in my hair.”
You blink at him. “I just meant… you can have your own space back. You must be sick of us by now.”
Nico wavers, shifting back and forth on his feet. You’re holding one of your t-shirts, and you pull it close to your chest. There’s something hanging in the air.
“I don’t think I’d ever get sick of you,” he says. A spark runs down your spine. “I liked having you here.”
You blink, unsure what to do with yourself suddenly. “I, uh, liked being here. You’re a great host, you know.”
He shrugs, then nods. He opens his mouth, closes it, repeats the motion. Then he releases his grip on the doorframe and takes a couple steps into the room. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and you try to keep your breathing steady as he walks towards you.
“You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” He asks, looking hopeful.
You blink up at him, the corner of your lips tugging upwards. “Guess it depends on what we’re having.”
You’re trying to be brave about this. Trying to go with the flow, be casual. Maybe he’s just got a meal planned for two, maybe he needs your help to make it. You don’t want to read into it, even as he comes so close that you could reach out and touch him, that you can smell his shampoo and cologne. One of the dogs barks in the living room. You both ignore it, unable to tear your eyes away from each other. The air feels electric.
His hand comes up to touch your cheek, fingertips featherlight. You swallow. Your heart is pounding in your chest. He’s grinning, like he knows it. So sure of whatever he’s about to say.
“I thought maybe we could go out,” he says, casually. “Just me and you, somewhere nice. Let the dogs hang out here and keep each other company.”
You blink, take a breath, nod. “Okay. I can stay for dinner.”
“Cool,” he says, trying to be nonchalant about it. His wide grin gives him away. “Then it’s a date.”
Your breath catches in your chest, but you nod. “It’s a date.”
When he leans down and kisses your cheek, you swear the world stops spinning. When he pulls away it spins faster than it ever has before. You watch him walk away, dumbfounded, heart racing, skin burning.
All that worrying about it all, and it was that easy?
…..
At dinner, you both come to terms with the fact that you can’t really call this your first date. The two of you are too comfortable already, too at ease with each other. Nico claims the real first date was the coffee shop, months ago. You claim it was the day he came to pick up Bernie and took a nap on your couch.
“So I was asleep for half of our first date?” He says, nose wrinkled. “No thank you.”
“Well if it was the coffee shop, then I didn’t get your number for weeks after,” you retort. “So that would be weird.”
Eventually the two of you decide to agree to disagree. Maybe it happened somewhere in the middle without you even realizing. But now it feels official and real, over seafood and wine and warm bread. Nico’s face is lit by the candles on the table, and he holds your hand half the night.
Hours later, you stumble out of the restaurant, wine tipsy and giggling as you lean against his arm. He’s laughing, too, until he’s not, until he’s holding you by your hips on an empty sidewalk, waiting for a cab to roll by. You stare up at him, the dark night sky and city lights behind his head.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, quietly.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you reply.
Nico kisses exactly the way you’d imagined- soft and sweet, at first, in a way that makes you feel everything. And then his tongue slips past your lips and his grip on your hips tightens and you wrap your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. It’s a bit all consuming, threatens to leave you breathless, sends shocks across your skin.
He gets you into a cab and gives his address, and then he leans against you, his lips against your temple, his hand intertwined with yours. He speaks quietly against your skin.
“I’ll follow your lead here,” he says, quietly. “If you wanna take Moose and head home, I completely understand.”
You smile and lean into his touch. “Okay,” you say, deciding to leave him hanging. He laughs against your skin like he knows what you’re doing.
When the car pulls up in front of Nico’s apartment building, you step outside while he pays the fare. He grabs your hand again to lead you inside, through the lobby, and towards the elevator. He’s watching your every move, you can feel it- he’s trying to read you. You think he probably sees right through your little game, but that’s okay.
When the elevator doors slide closed, you turn to him, threading your hand through his hair at the nape of his neck.
“You should ask me to stay over,” you whisper, leaning up to brush your lips against his ear.
He groans softly, his hand falling to rest on your hip. “Yeah?”
You nod.
He swallows. “You want to stay over?” He asks, voice breathy. His stubble scrapes against your cheek as he brushes a kiss there.
You lean in to kiss him again. You think that’s answer enough.
The two of you tumble into his apartment a few minutes later, hands wrapped tightly in each other’s. You muffle your giggles with your other hand, and Nico does the same with his own. The dogs are curled up on their dog beds in the living room, snoring away. You take off your shoes carefully, and the two of you tiptoe through the apartment. If you wake Moose, he’ll be needy, begging for attention. Bernie will be the same with Nico.
You make it to the bedroom, and within seconds, Nico’s on you, pressed up against the closed bedroom door. He latches his lips onto your neck, and you sigh happily. His hands are already roaming everywhere, and your whole body is on fire.
“You’re sure about this?” He asks, between kisses, and you melt.
“Positive,” you say, already gasping for air. “Please, Nico.”
He groans into your skin, and you both start to fall apart.
Later, you lay in bed, your cheek against his bare chest. His hand sweeps up and down your back smoothly. You can hear his heart beating, feel the soft rise and fall of his breaths. There’s a lot of things you want to say, but they all feel far too intimate for a first time on a maybe third date, so you keep your mouth shut. You settle for drawing shapes on his skin until he shivers and laughs.
Seconds later, there’s a dog scratching at the door. Moose whines. Then, so does Bernie. You groan into Nico’s chest.
“They’re so needy,” you grumble.
“Sounds like someone else I know,” he responds.
He pulls away before you can retaliate, reaching for his t-shirt and tossing it to you. You pull it on as he tugs on a pair of shorts. Then he opens the door. Two fur covered, heat seeking missiles come shooting onto the bed, barreling into you, making themselves comfortable atop the covers. Nico crawls back into bed before he loses his spot, nudging Bernie out of the way so he can pull you back into his arms.
Moose rests his head against your side. You rub behind his ears as Nico does the same with Bernie. Something about this moment just feels right. The way the four of you all curl up together, around each other, held tight and warm and safe.
Nico kisses your forehead. ���Goodnight.”
You kiss his shoulder. “G’night, Nico.”
In the dark, Bernie whines.
“And goodnight to you too, Berns,” you laugh, reaching over to pat her head.
…..
Nico stops in the parking lot, his arm around the back of your seat. You continue staring out the windshield. In the backseat, Bernie and Moose wag their tails happily. You hope he can’t see where you’re holding onto the seat tightly with your right hand.
“Hey,” he says. His hand brushes against your shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“What if they all hate me?” You ask.
Nico scoffs. “Then they’re all stupid.”
“Nico…”
“Baby,” he murmurs, leaning over, pressing his lips to your temple. “You met Jack, scared the shit out of him, and he still asks about you all the time. And you’ll have the dogs. That’ll win them over immediately.”
You sigh and wipe your sweaty hands on your pants. “You’re their captain. What if I don’t live up to the… I don’t know, Nico-“
He cups your face in his hand and turns your head towards his. There’s a soft, kind smile on his face. You bite your lip.
“You don’t need to live up to anything,” he says, firmly. “I want you there, that’s enough. And if you want to leave, you just tell me. We’ve got the dogs as an excuse.”
You nod. He pinches your cheek lightly, and you laugh. When he climbs out of the car, you follow suit. Moose and Bernie are itching to get out of the backseat- you each unbuckle one dog and get them ready to go inside.
In the stadium, he stops and helps you get the dogs ready- winter coats for them to wear, little shoes to protect their feet that you’ve been getting them used to for months now. Moose still glares at you a bit when you first put them on, but he gets over it quickly.
Nico laces up his own skates and helps you, too, and then it’s out onto the rink, under the lights, staring up at the big empty stadium. The dogs stay close at first, getting used to the slippery surface.
Everyone is here- his teammates, their families, their friends. When he’d invited you, you’d nearly broken down into tears- you know how much it means to him, how much he loves this team and this sport. You’re honored he wants to share it with you. You were the one who suggested bringing the dogs, too. Now, out on the ice, you’re thrilled it all ended up like this.
“Cool wolf,” Jack says, as he skates by. “Hey, Luke- you know what his name is?”
Luke shakes his head.
“Moose,” Jack says, and Luke sighs. “Which one of you is the cuter one, huh?”
“Definitely the dog,” Nico says, squeezing your hand.
“You all suck,” Luke says. He turns to you and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Not you. You seem great.”
Nico hooks his elbow in yours and nudges you gently. “Wanna do a lap?”
You smile and nod, and he starts to pull you around on the ice. The dogs follow happily, having found their footing. Across the ice, some of the kids point at them excitedly. You think back to the dog park, so long ago, now, and the lady and her dog Bessie. If she’d never gotten angry with you, would you and Nico have ever spoken? Or would you have just stared at each other from across the park forever? You’re not sure you want to know. You’re just happy it ended up the way it did.
“I love you,” you tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
He blushes and grins, dimple popping up on his face. “I love you too, schatz.”
He kisses you on the lips, then, a quick peck that still somehow makes your heart skip a beat. At your feet, Moose whines, and Bernie follows suit. You and Nico sigh.
“And we love you two, too,” you say, shaking your head at the dogs.
“So needy,” Nico says.
“Sounds like someone else I know,” you tease, elbowing him.
He grins impossibly wider. You feel warm enough to melt the ice beneath your feet. He tends to have that affect on you, and you don’t think it’ll ever grow old.
thanks for reading!!
#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier fanfic#Nico hischier fic#Nico hischier fluff#Nico hischier oneshot#Nico hischier fanfiction#Nico hischier imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#nhl oneshot#nhl fluff
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You Will Stop the Wedding! - Idia Shroud
SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.
CHARACTERS: Idia Shroud x Reader
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration
WORD COUNT: 1.710 words
Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia
Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim
COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.
CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And he just found out that someone was you.
Idia’s tablet was present at the Housewardens meeting. He didn’t really care about that kidnapping story. He even commented that he was just glad it wasn't him. It was because of things like this that he didn't leave Ignihyde, or his room.
So he asks, just out of curiosity, who was the poor person who was kidnapped. He probably didn't know but he could later look at the students' profiles or something, if he was curious. When the Headmage says it was the prefect and your name, the sound of someone spitting out a drink can be heard through the tablet. And then a "Hep!" Idia had spat out the soda he was casually drinking. And then he was afraid he had spat near a cable or something.
When they asked if he was okay, he said yes, everything was fine, it was just... Ortho scared him or something... Since they couldn't see him, he began to silently panic.
When they decide on the rescue plan and are choosing candidates for the groups, he doesn't say anything, he is petrified by the amount of negative thoughts in his head. So, Ortho is the one who offers Idia to be part of the last group. Idia comes back to reality in a panic and babbles very quickly. Ortho asks permission from the people on the other side of the tablet and mute the call for a momento.
Then he turns Idia's chair so that he is facing him and he looks at his older brother very seriously. He knows that Idia likes you and that's why he has to be part of the rescue teams. Being part of the last one is perfect because if any of the others manage to save you, he might just be relieved. But if they fail, he can study the failed attempts to create the best strategy to save you.
Idia ends up saying that Ortho is right and that he will be on the last team. But in his head, he's praying it doesn't come to that. He doesn't trust himself to save you.
But unfortunately for him, that's what ends up happening. And when they are preparing the last team, he tries to dodge it. Ortho gets confused and mutes the tablet to talk to Idia.
Ortho says this is his chance to save you, like a true hero. But that's when Idia says he's no hero. That if it depends on him, things will most likely turn out even worse than humanly possible, and because of him you will end up dying even faster. And this is where Ortho asks him a heartbreaking question: "Are you going to at least try to save (Y/N) while you can, or are you just going to skip into designing a new robot?" Idia looks at him with wide eyes. “There is still time. There is still hope. Don't waste it.”
During the way to the ceremony room, Idia tries to stay behind and offers to stall the ghost guards, but whoever his team-mates were, they either offered to stall the guards first or said that he was the one who should get to the wedding and save you. Again, to an outsider it might seem like he didn't want to save you, but the truth is that he didn't trust himself to save you.
Despite everything, he is the only one who arrives at the ceremony room. And when everyone looks at the person who just entered, he petrifies. The princess asks who he is and what he is doing there. He puts his fists to his chest like he normally does when he's scared.
“I I I I... um... a-am here to... s-stop... the w-wedding?” The princess asks, confused, if that was a question. “W-well... more or less... I mean, my main objective is to stop the marriage, yes, but as I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it, on the contrary, my biggest chances are of ruining everything, so it ends up being just an attempt, so it was indeed a question instead of an affirmation.” He ended up speaking so quickly that the ghosts barely understood half of what he said. He sighs.
“So you're here to stop the wedding.” The princess says. "Why?"
He starts to stumble over the words to respond, then, somehow, the ghosts understand that he is trying to find an excuse to deceive the princess and attack him.
He turns out to reveal himself to be quite capable of defeating the guards with magic. Getting to the point where he started to see it as a game and the smug Idia took the place of the shy Idia. He even says a few lines like "Do you really think you can stop me with those weak attacks?" or “Even smaller enemies on easy mode are harder to defeat than this.” and “Aw, are the gwosts twied aweady?” But all his smugness disappears when one of the guards turns into a giant ghost. Against this one, Idia ends up losing.
The princess approaches him and slaps Idia. “I'm not going to say I didn't deserve it.” he says. “Wait... wasn't I supposed to be petrified? I'm still moving, aren't I? Or was the slap so hard that I passed out and I'm dreaming that I'm moving?”
Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing. Her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Idia's reaction is to, involuntarily, turn his hair almost completely pink.
“Wow wow wow! True love is a very strong pair of words.” he says “Besides I don't even believe in that.”
The princess is shocked, a little like the guards, and like a delusional person obsessed with finding true love, she asks Idia why he said that.
Idia starts talking about the brain chemicals that are released to make us feel what people call love. Which is nothing more than a chemical reaction in our body. But the princess doesn't understand anything and says she will prove to him that true love exists by marrying you and taking you to “live” happily ever after with her.
“WAIT! NO!” he screams, scared “Fine, fine. It is true love, whatever, just don't take them.” The princess asks why not? “Because I don't want to lose anyone else! I can't lose one of the only people I care about again! Take me then! I don't care. Just let (Y/N) go!”
Sacrificing yourself to save the person you love? What a true act of love the princess says that is! The greatest proof of love anyone could give. How she wished she had someone like that for herself too. And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself and say that he would give his life for her, after all, technically, he had already done so. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.
After all that problem is over, you don't find Idia. But Ortho appears and hugs you, happy that you're okay. And then takes your hand to take you to his brother. He takes you outside, where Idia was waiting for him, but not for you. When he sees you, the ends of his hair turn pink. Ortho leaves you with his brother, wishes you good luck, says he's meeting Idia in Ignihyde, turns on the turbo at his feet and disappears.
He turned his back to you when Ortho left. “Oh yeah, um, it's getting late, I have to go back to Ignihyde...” You'll have to be the one to stop him if you want to talk to him about what happened. The moment he turns around and looks at you, the ends of his hair will turn pink again. “W-w-what?”
If you start talking to him about how he saved you, or at least how he was probably the most important part of your rescue, he'll tell you not to be ridiculous, that he didn't do anything. The ghosts just started having a strange conversation about love and somehow the princess decided to exchange you for that guard. “An abrupt and sudden drop in standards, let me tell you that.”
He will try his best not to talk too much about what happened, unless you find a way to get him to talk. And the way you found to do this, in a way that wouldn't force him to do it, was to being the first to be honest about the matter.
You tell him how you felt when you saw him enter the ceremony room, how much you were rooting for him to be able to save you, how cool you thought he was while fighting the ghosts and, most importantly, how scared you were when he told the princess to take him instead of you. This boosted his confidence.
“Oh, that... I... Honestly, I didn't want to save you.” Before you could react, he continued speaking. “I was too scared of making everything worse. I couldn't be responsible for another...” he interrupts himself, to take a deep breath and speak quickly “Okay, fine, I admit it, I like you, and that's why I was so afraid of ruining everything. But I ended up having no other choice and I couldn't lose another person I love. Happy now? Was this what you wanted? A cliché declaration of love after a life threatening situation? Congratulations, you've unlocked one of the most old fashioned achievements in the game.” and seeing that you were smiling, he adds with the confidence he has suddenly switch on “Well, I hope you like the route you just got for yourself, because now there are no more saves to change your choices.”
Unfortunately for you, he's not the type to go in for a kiss after this. Unless... you’re the one doing it for him. A kiss that he will return with pleasure and confidence. And you will feel a new warmth coming from him, from his hair.
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#Twisted Wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twst wonderland#twst fluff#Twisted Wonderland Fluff#Ghost Marriage#The Phantom Bride: Love at First Fright#Idia Shroud#Idia Shroud x Reader#Idia x Reader
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Scary dog privilege 👀
Sae, Rin, Nagi, or Reo 👀👀👀👀👀🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
Oh sure like the trend? I could try. Ty for the request. I really appreciated it.
Flower shop with Itoshi Sae.
You and Sae are just wandering around Shibuya until you spotted a small, decent flower shop. You who got nothing to spend money on decided to spend your money there by buying a flower for Sae. Too bad Sae thinks that's a stupid idea but he still nodded.
You told him to stay outside the shop so you can shop happily without him complaining about every single thing. He got a bit grumpy over it but still agrees with you.
This is how the problem started. You were just finding a flower that matches the colour of Sae's hair then a staff member showed up. He was nice and kind that you took his recommendation of flowers as you happily pay for it.
All that happy commotion ended when you felt a hand latch on your head. You turned around finding Sae with his usual stoic face as he narrowed his eyes towards the cashier.
"... let's go home now. Have you paid yet?"
" already did. He's just preparing for it- eh?"
You turned around to face the cashier just to find him vanishing from the spot. Leaving your flower on the table. You ended up leaving with a bit of sympathy for the staff and decided to nudge Sae about it.
" Sae, stop staring at people like that."
" what?"
" your face."
" not my problem."
Killer face with Itoshi Rin.
Rin is almost the same as Sae except he's more willing to show how disgusted he was at something.
It's the middle of the night and you are still wide awake so you bring (dragged) Rin with you to the convenience store. It wasn't really far but it's night so gotta bring someone.
Walking with Rin while you both held hands in his pocket. It's pretty cold outside.
" Rin."
"what."
" we're here. Let me go."
" No."
"...okay."
Lmao he's probably the type to hold your hands everywhere you guys go and use the excuse to PrOtEcT YoU-. Omg it's so cringe for you to hear but you still just let it slide.
While picking up some snacks in the convenience store you want to pick up some ice cream for both of you unfortunately your other hand was with him so you told him to let go and he did. :)
Eventually some guy at the convenience store at the moment came up to you and kinda bother you... Well you didn't really hear him because it's freezing and your mind is somewhere else.
Rin to the rescue came to the scene and just looked at the guy disgustingly as if he met a trash bag and shot him some glare until he was far away from you.
"let's get out of here. Hurry up you, lukewarm."
" just a minute...which one do you like better? Chocolate Ice cream or strawberry?"
"i don't care just- hurry up or i might punch someone here."
" okay okay."
Lazy night with Nagi seishiro.
" seii-...come onnn the train in coming.. You're gonna miss it."
"mhmm..."
You and nagi were at the train station going home after spending time with the other blue lock players. It was late midnight. Nagi offers to stay at his place tonight and you agree.
As the train arrives, both you and Nagi go in. Inside wasn't really crowded probably because people already went home. There are only a few seats available and you just sat in the middle while Nagi sat beside you. No. Probably squeeze to be next to you.
The ride was silent and nagi had already fallen asleep on your shoulder. You just enjoy the calming night UNTIL- the passenger next to you starts to unconsciously place his hand on your thigh.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK- WHY DIDN'T I WEAR PANTS TODAY- your whole body stopped. Your mind went somewhere else and your breath started to rag. The other passengers already fell asleep soundly so no one could help you in this situation. You started to pray that the train would just arrive sooner and you could get out of this fucked up situation.
Closing your eyes hoping that everything would go away-
"..let go."
You opened your eyes as it landed on nagi who is now full awake as he slapped the passenger hand away from you.
" ... fucking pervert..what a hassle.."
Nagi narrowed his eyes towards the passenger then just pulled your body closer to his.
Soon enough your destination arrives and Nagi just quickly dragged you out with him while pointing the middle finger towards the passenger before the train door closed fully
"...sorry.."
".. don't be. Wanna go to the police station while stopping?"
"...if it's not too much of a hassle.."
"... it's not."
".. right- let's go, seishiro."
Reminder: just because japan is known for being a very safe country it doesn't mean that safe 🤷♀️ lots of pervert during train sometimes during the night. Be safe y'all ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ
#bllk x reader#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#blue lock nagi#bllk nagi#nagi fluff#nagi x reader#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro#bllk sae#sae itoshi#blue lock sae#itoshi sae#sae x reader#bllk rin#blue lock rin#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#rin x reader#blue lock reo#reo mikage#mikage reo#bllk reo#reo x reader#fluff
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Here’s a rose, now piss off.
Summary: Ghost threw out his back, and the medics forbade him from going on a mission. So he’s been assigned by HR to hand out flowers for Women’s Day.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,094
Notes:
I'll keep putting Mr Riley in the most awkward situations possible until I run out of ideas. When will that be? *fist punches the table* NEVAH!
Platonic fluff. 🌸
Want more?
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There’s a knock on the door. It’s the 10th time someone has asked to see you since this morning, and it’s not even lunchtime yet. Soldiers are coming in and out of the garage. All. The. Time. They want you to modify their equipment, repair their trucks, replace their firearms, and sync their walkie-talkies. And, as if you’re a genie in a bottle, they expect their wishes to be granted “stat.”
“Come in!” you say, turning towards the door to see your subordinate looking like he was asked to solve world hunger.
“Boss!” he exclaims, looking down at his clipboard. “Have you seen the Humvee that arrived today?”
“No, soldier,” you mutter. “What about it?”
“W-well,” he begins, pausing briefly to look at you. “It’s got holes all over it, boss.”
“Holes?” you ask with raised eyebrows.
"Y-yeah," he stammers. “Like from bullets and stuff.”
When you hear the words “and stuff,” a smile forms at the corners of your mouth. It’s not one of amusement. Instead, it’s a tired smile that signals the start of something far more sinister that is about to happen if people continue to bother you with such trivial “stuff.”
“What do we do in situations like these, soldier?” you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “what did I teach you to do?”
“Patch’ er up, boss!” He responds with pride.
“And what happens if that doesn’t work?”
“Make a pasta strainer with it, boss.”
“But?”
“But welding always works for patching up holes, boss!”
“Very well done!” you utter. “Now go and weld the shit out of it,” you shoo him with your hand, “the operators will likely need the car right away for their next mission.”
He salutes and walks away six feet taller as if he’s figured out how to solve the Collatz conjecture. You must retrain them so they don’t come to you seeking advice for the tiniest “stuff”.
Another person enters as your subordinate walks out; an American holding an annihilated walkie-talkie.
“What is it this time, Philip?” you ask, noticeably bored.
“It got wet,” he says, handing you the equipment piece by piece. “And then it stopped working.”
“Graves!” you yell, swinging the poor thing by its cables. This one was already dead. Done. Caput. “Is this what you call ‘wet’ in the States?”
He chuckles but then stops when he sees your stunned expression. He gives a shrug.
You sigh and toss the walkie-talkie on top of a pile of wrecked equipment, wishing your patience was as large as that heap. You choose another that you fixed earlier, synchronise it, and hand it over to him.
“Please take better care of your belongings,” you beg. “All of you.”
He nods and leaves the room, waving the small equipment as if to thank you.
As much as you get angry at them, you can’t help but sympathise and understand their situation. They are soldiers. To successfully complete a mission, they must enter dangerous territories and battlefields. They should submerge themselves and everything they hold in water if necessary. They must use that equipment to the best of their capabilities to free prisoners, rescue civilians, and capture terrorists. Your responsibility is to repair and maintain that equipment, so it is always in good working order and ready to use whenever they need them. Your role might not be as critical as that of a medic, but you, too, are required to ensure their missions’ success.
A cough behind you causes you to throw your hands to your sides and lift your head as if praying to God to end this ordeal.
“What is it n-” you pause and turn to look at Ghost, holding a covered bucket in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
“Let me guess,” you say. “There’s a dead drone in there,” you say, pointing to the bucket, “and you managed to save some of its parts in that cup.”
But he gives you a threatening stare. He appears to be as fed up as you are.
He sets the bucket down and lifts up the cover. There is no drone in it. It’s filled with vibrant roses wrapped in pretty paper, standing upright.
“I’m a mechanic, not a botanist, Ghost.”
“It’s for Women’s Day,” he says, his face as expressionless as when he first entered the room. “I have to distribute these to all the women-”
You burst out laughing, and he immediately gets angry. He was anticipating that reaction.
“This isn’t funny, you little shit,” he spits. “I threw my back out, and now HR is making me hand out flowers like I’m fucking Zorro instead of going on the mission.”
You hold back your laughter and wipe the tears of joy from your cheeks. “At least you have the mask, Lt.,” you try to comfort him, and he turns away in embarrassment.
“Well, Lt., I’m afraid I’m not a flower person-”
“I don’t care; you have to choose one.” He says, motioning to the bucket. “And hurry up; I have to go to the ladies at the registrations as well.”
“No.” You refuse and smirk as you lean against the shelf. “You choose one for me.”
“Listen up, you motherf-”
“Hey now, it’s Women’s Day.” You remind him, looking at your nails.
He sighs as he kneels down with difficulty, shuffling through roses. His hand first grasps a red one, then a pink one, before finally deciding on a yellow rose with red wrapping paper.
He stands up, supporting his weight on his thigh, that cup still in his hands, and offers you the flower.
“Why yellow?” You ask as you accept the rose.
“I’m saving the pretty ones for those who actually like flowers,” he explains.
You widen your eyes and tilt your head to the side. “Is that so, Mr Riley?” You ask.
But he doesn’t give in to your trap. He reaches out his other arm and hands you the cup he held. “Here,” he says, “I know you like coffee.”
This is far too entertaining for you to give up on.
“You got me coffee?” You ask with a smile. “You’re such a sweetheart, Simon.”
He mutters something under his breath, picks up the bucket and begins his way to the ‘registration ladies’.
“Do you need help with that, Lt.?” You ask, and he extends his middle finger without turning around.
“Thanks for the coffee!” you shout, and you notice his middle finger tucking into his palm, giving way to his thumb as if to say, “you’re welcome.”
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#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare 2#simon ghost riley x you#cod mwii#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon riley x y/n#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw2 fanfic#cod ghost#ghost cod#cod mw2#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley fic
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now... can we get that jealous Aiden but with Tyler?
Thank you❤
Jealous!Tyler Hernández x gn!reader
warnings: swearing, bad grammar, kinda short
summary: you got to a basketball court with Tyler, his teammates coming along as well when one of them decides to be a bit too touchy
A/N: i know he plays baseball but I made him play basketball for this fic haha
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
You sat in the shade on the bleachers, watching Tyler and his teammates practice for an upcoming match with another school. You believed in them since they played with that school before and to say they were kinda bad was an understatement. You take some photos of Tyler in secret, and smile down at your phone. “How is he always so effortlessly pretty?” You think to yourself and put your phone away and decide to draw. You weren’t half bad at drawing, mostly drawing backgrounds and clothing designs. You were in your own world, lost in your thought when you feel a presence next to you. You look up to see one of Tylers teammates who was watching you with a smile. You smile awkwardly and wave; “Hey..?” You say hesitantly and close your sketchbook. “Hey, you’re Y/N right?” You nod and pray for this awkward interaction to end. “Yep, that’s.. uh.. that’s me.” You say and fiddle with your fingers, eying Tyler who was on the other side of the court.
The guy inches closer to you, putting an arm around your waist and your whole body stiffens. Your mind goes blank and every muscle in your body is as stiff as a rock. “Why are you here all alone? Why not come and play with us?” He asks and smiles at you, this fake, eerie smile. “Oh, I don’t really know how to play.” You quickly answer and try to keep distance between you but this guy really didn’t know what personal space is. “I could teach you..” He grabs your wrists and puts his chin on your shoulder. “When you wanna shoot for the hoop you put one arm here.” He guides your arm down and puts the other higher than the other. “Then when you want to throw it you do..” He gets cut off by someone yelling his name and he lifts his chin up to look in that direction. He doesn’t let go of your wrists and you just look down, feeling humiliated. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” You hear an oh so familiar voice that you love so much and thank the gods that sent this angel to your rescue aka Tyler. “Hey, I was just teaching them how to play man, what are you so mad about hm? You’re acting like they’re your partner.” Tyler looks at him with a pissed of expression, pushing him off of you.
“Hey the fuck?!” The guy yells as you quickly gather your things and get off the bleachers. The guy was quite aggressive and pushed Tyler back, earning another push from Tyler. That seemed to even worsen the situation and the guy punched Tyler right in the nose. “Oh hell no.” Tyler says and throws the guy down, punching him repeatedly. There was blood everywhere, Tyler finally stopping after he heard a satisfying crack from the guys nose.
Tyler rubs the blood off his nose and grabs your wrist and leaves the court. You walk with him, staying quiet the whole way to his house. He unlocks the door and walks upstairs into the bathroom. “Sit.” You tell him and he looks at you and softens his expression, still kinda annoyed. You grab the first aid kit and grab bandages and some rubbing alcohol. You clean his bruised knuckles and wrap them in some bandages and clean his bloody nose, handing him a tissue to stop the bleeding.
You sit on the counter where the sink is and just quietly stay there, letting him collect his thoughts. It was an awkward silence so you finally decide to say something; “Hey i’m—” “Are you—” You both say at the same time and you shut your mouth so he can tell what he wants to say. He rubs his neck and waves you over so you come over, standing between his legs as he looks up at you. “Hey, I’m sorry for lashing out, I didn’t mean to make a scene.” He says and frowns a bit. You smile and kiss his forehead, bringing him into an embrace. You breath in his scent and relax under his touch. “No, it’s fine really, i’m grateful that you protected me. Another second with him and I swear he would be dead.” You say and hear a low chuckle escape his lips as he plays with your hair. You stay like that for a bit until he picks you up and walks with you to his room. He closes the door behind him and lays you down on the bed, laying down on top of you. He mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your neck. You rub his back look up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Tyler notices that you were a bit too quiet and looks up; “Hey you okay amor?” You nod and simply smile, still not looking at him. “I’m fine, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you as a boyfriend.” He smiles and peppers your face with kisses, making you giggle. “And I’m lucky to have the best partner in the world.”
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
#tyler hernandez x you#tyler hernandez x y/n#tyler sbg x reader#sbg tyler x reader#sbg tyler#tyler hernandez x reader#tyler hernandez#tyler sbg#sbg x reader#sbg fanfic#sbg#sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard requests#school bus graveyard x y/n#school bus graveyard fanfiction#school bus graveyard x reader#school bus graveyard
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Today, I was thinking about Kar'niss the drider, who—mad and confused—stumbles over a nearly dead darling in the Shadowlands.
You're already as good as gone, life sapped out of you mercilessly by the shadows gnawing at you. They burn your skin and dig into your very soul while strangling you slowly, agonizingly to death, trying to take over your body and make you into one of the lifeless puppets wandering around unprotected. It's your own fault for getting into this mess, yet you prayed and wished for nothing more than to be released from the torture.
Perhaps that's why it's so surprising when instead of eternal, restless death, your body is enveloped in a gentle light, bright and freeing you of the shadows that quickly retreat. You gasp and wheeze as you jolt back to life, coughing and contorting until you finally get your own mind back.
It hurts to look, yet you cannot help but stare into the blinding light, trying to determine where it's coming from. Only now can you make out faint noises coming from it, the shadows having wrecked your hearing badly enough so that you didn't notice it before. Metal clanking and a voice. It almost makes you believe in a god again, as you mistake the light to be talking to you.
Imagine the shock, the ice-cold shiver that runs through you when your eyes finally adjust. When the real monster behind the voice comes into the light, mumbling and yelling nonsensical phrases about 'feeding the shadows' and 'her majesty's will'. Half of its body resembles a man, the other half is spider through and through. His skin seems more leathery and armored, and his fingertips are contorted into claws. What you thought were dark jewels adorning his face turn out to be eyes, and you choke on a scream as they blink, their focus suddenly shifts entirely on you.
"Who are you? What are you doing, feeding the shadows?! It's not right, it's not...! Ah, yes, your majesty! Your light guides us, protects us. We are eternally grateful!"
As if almost dying and being rescued by a drider isn't bad enough, madness seems to be dripping off of him the moment he notices you through his hazy mind. You can tell that there is no reasoning with your savior, no last bit of sanity to appeal to, your instincts tell you. He leans down, and you cower, trying to get away. But the moment you leave the lantern's glow, you feel the shadows reaching for you again. You have no idea what's going on as the drider makes another step forward, the light enveloping you again, but you start to listen to his rambles, the way he calls out to some queen, reverently so.
And your blood runs cold when, in his mumbles, you hear him call you a gift.
"My queen, are you giving them to me? Is this my reward? I will not complain about this most generous gift, majesty!"
Your arm is caught by him quicker than you can get away, though his grip only tightens when you struggle, his skin feeling wrong against yours. Appalling. But when you stop thrashing like a fly caught in a spiderweb, he gently pulls you to a stand, waiting for you to regain your strength before he starts walking, tugging you with him. The shadows want to reach for you, pull you back, and you fearfully step closer to the drider, making him chuckle.
There's nothing you can do, his grip on you firm and the shadows being the only alternative to walking with him. He keeps blubbering and laughing about his thoughts, conversing with someone you can't see but who he seems to revere. But at the same time, you feel at least one pair of eyes fixating on you in every moment of your journey, even if you don't know which one is looking. Everything about him is freaking you out, but when you reach a massive building with people walking around, you can't help but feel thankful to the drider for bringing you back to civilization.
That is, until someone tries to talk to you. He does not like that.
Letting go of your arm, he snatches you by your waist instead, your feet dangling above the ground while you feel the air being forced out of your lungs from the pressure he puts you against his chest with. It's all so unnatural, and you can't help but struggle in fear when, suddenly, his bellowing voice makes you freeze.
"NO! This is my gift! Our Queen has gifted them to me! They are not for you to take! You are not worthy!"
And just like that, after baring his fangs and driving away the people you thought were going to help you, his anger disappears almost immediately as he cradles you, cooing much softer words in your direction than to the others. "It's alright, sweet gift. They'll not take you from me. We'll be together, as has our Queen decided."
With that, you feel like your body is flying through the air, clutched against him, as his many legs are swiftly put into motion. When you force yourself to look over his shoulder, you are already far up in the air, watching the ground distance itself more and more. All you can do is cling onto him in fear of falling to your death, and he breathes you in deeply before you two reach the top, his lips contorted into a smile when you finally meet his eyes again.
"Mine, all mine. My sweet little gift."
NSFW-ish below
I'd like to think he has taken one of the free towers that are more or less empty and spun a pretty web for his darling inside. Kar'niss takes care of you, rarely letting you outside (only if you convinced him over the span of days that you'd so like to take a stroll with him) because he really doesn't want anyone else to see, touch, or talk to what is his, even when he needs to go and guide souls to the tower. You will probably go as insane as he is, listening to his rambling and trying to appease him when you accidentally say something to send him into a fit of rage.
There are so many ways to punish you, too. Simply leaving you in the darkness after your almost death reverts you into a crying, sobbing mess that Kar'niss will love to soothe you, dedicating himself to cuddling and cradling you in his arms and lolling around in the web with you while he tells you he and the grace of her majesty are always with you.
He's also just painful to be around, especially when he's so irrational, and you cannot move out of the way of his fangs, claws, and legs. Everything about him feels strange, giving you no comfort, but he can hurt you so easily it makes you paranoid. When you ask him to, or he's currently obsessing over you, his touch can be gentle, and Kar'niss has proven his soft caresses to you many times. But if a leg or his hands accidentally swipes you, you bleed. It's just how things are.
Also, suppose you displease him by speaking against his queen or setting him off by denying him the pleasure of being with you. In that case, he'll just stop caring for you, sitting outside the tower where he keeps you, and sulks. (The Absolute is probably telling him to go back, so he's also bickering a bit with her. Kind of an impressive achievement on your side.) He listens to you and waits until you start begging and pleading for him (or anyone) to come back and help you, to not leave you there to rot like this. Yet, Kar'niss makes you suffer for a while longer to punish you while ensuring no one comes near you.
But it does excite him when he goes back, and you cry and call to him and apologize for what you did, swearing you won't do it again. Excites him a lot. You do love him too, don't you? Of course you do... his queen would not have given you to him if that wasn't the case. You are meant for each other, after all. So he can forgive you this time.
Once he realizes you're in need of a parasite, he'll probably start connecting his disturbed mind with yours, giving you severe brain damage as you are flooded with his thoughts. But it'll finally give him the chance to show you exactly what he wants. Force you to believe in the Absolute like him by torturing you with his devotion and admiration until you break. Now, you'll finally understand your purpose as his mate, too. Accept him. Share his love for you and his majesty.
And since he has a new deity talking to him that isn't Lolth, who knows he cannot have children, Kar'niss might be convinced that he's supposed to make babies for the Absolute. He can't, technically (and maybe you can't either), but that doesn't stop him from talking about how he'll give his majesty new worshippers and how the two of you will be so worthy of her and have Absolute-babies. Kar'niss gets so excited at the idea of you being full and round from his offspring he almost drools, unable to wait any longer once the seed has been planted in his shattered mind.
So all you can do is ask him nicely to prepare you, to make sure he doesn't rip something or is gentle with those sharp claws and teeth no matter how eager he is. Just imagine how happy he'd be when you tell him that you could possibly be pregnant after all the orgasms he gave you—a lie, but you just really need him to stop. He'll be enraged if he finds out that you are not, but hey, he can always try again. And maybe someone will come to help him with his plan. Maybe Araj Oblodra could be convinced to offer a child or spider eggs to quench the Drider's baby frenzy, or the Absolute will give him a child like she gave him a darling.
Either way, until he dies, you're not getting out of this. And even then, someone would have to find you first and rescue you.
If they don't deem you too far gone already.
#Kar'niss#yandere kar'niss#yandere!kar'niss#bg3#baldur's gate 3#yandere bg3#yandere!bg3#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW
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drunk dial
pairing: platonic aaron hotchner/reader
rating: t
word count: 8.1k
tags: implied sexual assault, referenced sexual assault
summary: when you drunk dial your boss in need of rescuing from a night club, aaron hotchner doesn’t hesitate to respond. the only problem? you thought you’d called emily. hotch insists on you letting him take care of you for the night as you’re in no state to be on your own. as the night progresses, you find that you’re finally able to disclose a trauma you’d kept buried for years.
“Hotchner,” he answers groggily.
A harsh sob echoes through the receiver and he sits up, bringing the phone down to view the caller ID. The dark slash of his brow furrows as he views your name and photo.
There’s concern in his voice as he says your name, but you don’t seem to hear it.
You heave another sob through the phone. “My friend left with some guy. And now this one, he won’t—” Your voice suddenly sounds far away the music pounding in the background overtakes your words. He’s missing information as your voice becomes clear once more. “He wants more than I’m willing to give Emily and I just want to go home.” Your words are slurred. “I just,” another choked sob, “I need he—” The line disconnects.
“Hello?” Hotch questions and tries your name again. He redials your number and curses as it goes to voicemail. Throwing back the sheets, he climbs out of bed and dials Prentiss’ number as he pulls a hoodie over his t-shirt.
She laughs as she answers, “Hotch, it’s past midnight. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
He cuts her off and curtly explains the call he’d just received. “Where is she?”
“Oh, um, The 930 Club. She’s—”
“Thanks, Prentiss.” He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. He grabs his raincoat and keys and swiftly exits his apartment.
The club isn’t far from his complex, but with Saturday night traffic in the heart of DC combined with the summer storm raging on, it seems to take ages. He lays on the horn as someone cuts him off and curses as he slams on his brakes. Briefly, he considers throwing the red and blue lights on, but thinks better of it. He’s not far now and after making it through the next red light, the club comes into view. Disregarding the no parking signs out front, Hotch pulls up alongside the curb and throws the SUV into park.
Despite the rain, a line stretches out the door. Couples and groups of friends clad in leather, satin, high heels, and sleek accessories huddle under wide umbrellas to protect themselves from the storm. Hotch approaches the door and a bouncer stretches his arm across the way.
“There’s a line, old man.” The bouncer inclines his head toward the line of anxiously waiting club goers. “Get to the back before I put you there myself.”
Hotch is unfazed by the bouncer and the sense of power his job provides him. Standing toe to toe with the man, he stares him down, his eyes hard. He reaches into his pants pocket and retrieves his badge. With two fingers, he flips it open and pushes into the bouncer’s face. “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” he states flatly. “I’ve got an agent in trouble in there, so get the hell out of my way before I have you in handcuffs.” He’s bluffing, obviously, the bouncer has done nothing wrong. He doesn’t know that though, given how wide his eyes open in fear. He says nothing and steps aside, granting him entry.
“Thank you.” For good measure, Hotch drives his shoulder into the bouncer as he shoves his way into the noisy nightclub. His eyes dart around, scanning the scene. There are two long bars on opposite walls, a DJ against the short wall where dozens of people bump and grind against one another on the dance floor, and two levels of tall tables and booths for people to crowd around or sneak into to get away from the music.
On the phone, you’d sounded distressed. Your words were slurred and he could only hope and pray that you’d not been drugged by whatever “he” was with you at the time of the call. God, he could only hope that you were even still here. If he knew creeps as well as his job had accustomed him to, if a man was trying to procure a woman under the influence, he’d either leave immediately and attack her in a secondary location or he’d take her somewhere more private within the environment.
Pushing through the crowd, he shouldered past couples who shot dagger sharp glances at him and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. The music still pounded over the speakers up here, but this was clearly where people went to escape the bustle of the crowded dance floor and get away to drink or order food or conversate more
privately. He calls your name and begins scanning tables. Patrons dining or trying to steal a romantic moment glare at him. Some curse and tell him to fuck off. He pays them no mind. As he winds around tables, he begins losing hope despite there being much more of the club to explore. He has half a mind to shut the whole place down and call in the team, but that would be a gross overreaction. There is no evidence that you’re actually in danger or missing aside from a drunk misdial. Still though, his heart pounds erratically as he calls your name over the music.
He reaches the end of the second floor and at first doesn’t see that there are people in the booth they’re that far tucked into it. The man’s hulking frame blocks the girl from view and he knows it’s you.
“Hey!” he barks over the baseline.
“We don’t need anything,” the man says without looking back.
Fury floods his veins. Without a second thought, Hotch reaches for the man and grabs him by the back of the neck. He reels back, pulling the man to his feet. Catching his balance, the man pulls his fist back. As he aims to deliver a punch, Hotch ducks and sends his fist into the man’s gut. As the air vacates his lungs and he doubles over, Hotch fists his hands into his shirt and slams him back into the table. With the man immobilized, he looks up at you. A strap on your dress falls over one shoulder and your hair hangs limply, having fallen free of whatever style it had been in. You look at him from half hooded eyes, blinking slowly. The scene is spinning and your temples are throbbing.
“Are you okay?” Hotch asks. His knuckles blaze white as the man struggles beneath his grip.
“Stop moving!” he barks.
“Can somebody help me?” the man calls.
Someone is saying your name, asking if you’re ok. The music is loud and your ears feel like they’re plugged with cotton. Things seem to move quickly and slowly all at once. Where are you? You’ve not left the club yet, but where did Mariah go? There’s your name again. God, you’re really out of it. Mariah left, you remember. She left with Andrew’s friend and Andrew, God, he wouldn’t leave you alone. When was Emily going to get here? There’s your name again. You blink hard and try to get your bearings. Though things are hazy and tilted through your alcohol laden senses, a picture starts to form in front of you. Aaron Hotchner, your boss, has Andrew pinned against the table in front of you.
“Sir?” you question, though the word feels far away and unfamiliar on your tongue.
Hotch raises his eyes from Andrew, concern reflecting back at you in them. Your eyes widen as you take in Andrew’s form beneath him. You glance down at yourself and see your dress straps pulled down, exposing the lace of your bra. What the fuck had he been trying to do before Hotch got here?
Two bouncers approach as a crowd begins to gather, people are always hungry for drama after all.
“Is there a problem here?” the first bouncer asks. He’s tall, built, and wears sunglasses despite it being dark inside. His ginger beard is bushy and his brow is pierced. He looks pissed as all hell that he has to be up here breaking up a fight. Hotch recognizes the other bouncer from the door. When they make eye contact, his eyes widen.
“Yo, Liam, that’s that FBI agent I was telling you about.”
Liam arches a brow, but his expression softens. “What’s going on, officer? Or should I call you Agent?”
Hotch ignores him and pulls Andrew to his feet, pushing him toward the bouncers. “Get this guy out of here,” he orders. He looks toward you again, his eyes searching for signs of further harm. He turns his attention back to Andrew.
“Did you slip her something?”
Andrew’s face screws. “What? No!”
Hotch steps forward, his face inches from his, and repeats the question louder, “Did you give her something?”
Andrew flinches. “No! I don’t do that shit, man. She took a bunch of shots with her friend. Guys were buying them drinks all night. I just—”
“You just what?” Hotch questions, his voice low and dangerous. “Wait for a woman that can hardly stand, take her upstairs, hide away, and see just how far you can take it?”
“Hey, she was into it!”
Hotch grabs him by the jaw. “Look at her!” he says. “She can barely keep her eyes open! That’s not consent, idiot!”
Andrew swallows and he looks like he might wet himself.
“Hotch,” you say and try your best to sit up, the world spinning as you do so.
Hotch releases him, but first leans in close to his ear. “If you ever, and I mean ever try this again, with anyone. I will have you arrested and will personally make sure you never see the light of day ever again. I was a federal prosecutor, so I know how to make charges stick. Do I make myself clear?”
Andrew nods vigorously and a tear slips from his eyes. “Not so confident now, huh?” Hotch whispers, disdain dripping from his lips. “Get him out of here.”
He watches as the bouncers lead Andrew down the steps. Hotch immediately turns his attention on you. He slides into the booth beside you. “Did he hurt you?” he asks.
Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of what’s happening. The music is so loud. Hotch looks around and then back at you. “Let’s get you out of here, come on.” He stretches his hand out to you and you take it, letting him pull you out of the booth. When you find your feet, you stumble and he catches you, his arm bracing around your lower back.
“It’s raining,” Hotch says as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Take this.” He drapes it over your shoulders, his little finger curling under the strap of your dress and pulling it back into place as he does so. The smell of cedar and teakwood reaches your nose, a severe contrast to the club’s overarching scent of vodka, sweat, and the amalgamation of various perfumes and colognes sprayed in earnest.
The second you exit the club your head feels a fraction clearer. The air is muggy, the humidity amping up with the cold rain coming down after a week of intensely high temperatures.
Aaron reaches into his pocket and fishes out his car keys. He clicks the unlock button and the car beeps in response. He opens the door and helps you inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as you clumsily buckle your seatbelt to make sure you can get it on alright. Once secure, he gently shuts the door and jogs around to the driver’s side.
He slides into the driver’s seat and twists the key in the ignition. He places his hands on the wheel, but before shifting the car into gear, he looks at you, intensely. When he says your name, it’s gentle. It’s not the tone he uses in the office when he’s calling the team for a briefing or to review something you’d written in a report. There’s a warmth in his voice, and there’s real concern there too. “You don’t have to tell me,” he starts. “Just know that you can.”
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as the world tilts on its axis. Your stomach roils and for a moment you’re afraid you might be sick. You take a deep breath and manage to hold it down. Hotch tilts his head, regarding you. “Is there anyone at home that can take care of you?”
“No,” you answer and this time you don’t shake your head to avoid aggravating the nausea. “My roommate is out of town visiting her family,” you speak slowly but your words still come out slurred.
Hotch nods and shifts the car into gear. “You can stay with me then, tonight.”
“No, sir I can’t let you do that. You’ve got Jack and—”
A smile cracks his stern visage as he pulls out into traffic. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve taken a mental snapshot as you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a genuine expression of mirth cross his face. “Jack is at his aunt’s. I wouldn’t have exactly been able to come out like this if he wasn’t. Beth has an event for work this weekend, which is why I’ve stayed back in DC. It’s no trouble at all.”
You sink back into the seat, a part of you unable to believe that this is happening while the other part of you is still trying to fully process what all had transpired in the last fifteen minutes.
“Hotch, how did you know—”
His eyes are on the road as he speaks. “You thought you’d called Emily. You called me.”
“Oh my God,” you groan, drawing out the last letter. A scarlett heat creeps into your cheeks and you cover your face with your hands. “So you heard—Jesus Christ. Oh my God.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Hotch says, his words genuine. “I’m glad I can help.”
The rest of the ride passes in silence. It’s not long by any stretch of the imagination, but the constant stop and go traffic of late night DC has your stomach doing somersaults. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the cool glass of the window hoping it’ll quell the churning in your belly.
A quiet groan escapes your lips as Hotch pulls into his designated parking spot at The Langham. It stopped raining. As soon as he shifts the car into park, your stomach feels as though it’s just been bounced around like. ping pong ball. “Oh god,” you moan and fumble with the door handle. Somehow you manage to undo the lock and fling open the door. As soon as your feet hit the pavement, you rush over to the nearest bush, the vomit you’d staved off finally forcing its way up and out of your body. It’s vile, the way the alcohol and stomach acid burns your throat.
Footsteps rapidly approach and there’s a hand at your neck, gathering your hair. “Alright, ok,” Hotch says soothingly, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. “Get it all out, oh yeah, yep. There you go.”
When your body stops purging itself, you gulp down a fresh breath of air before spitting the acrid taste of bile from your lips. You stay like that, hands on your knees, and take a few deep breaths. “Do you have your gun?”
Hotch releases your hair as you stand, but keeps a steadying hand on your arm. His expression is puzzled, his brow arched. “No, why?”
You roll your eyes and turn toward the sidewalk leading toward the front entrance to his building. “To kill me now so I don’t have to live with the embarrassment of knowing my boss just saw that happen.”
Something between a laugh and scoff escapes Hotch’s lips as he catches up to you in two long strides. Him and his long ass legs, you drunkenly muse.
The lights hurt your eyes and your temples continue to throb as you let Hotch navigate your way through his complex. The walk feels excessively long and you wonder if all apartment complexes are this maze-like. As he fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to his apartment you realize you’re actually at Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You’ve never been to his apartment. You’ve been to Emily’s, Penelope’s, and Spencer’s apartments; Rossi and JJ’s houses, but Hotch? Definitely not. Suddenly you feel like you are about to encroach upon the shadowy place Mufasa warns Simba about in The Lion King.
You blink and that clears the weird image forming of Hotch as a cartoonish fatherly lion from your mind. You stumble through the threshold as he pushes the door open and curse as he catches you again. “These fucking heels,” you grumble. As you reach down to work out the straps your stomach flips and you groan.
Hotch’s eyes flare slightly. “Why don’t you stay up there?” he cautions. “Let me help you.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond, voice tight as your stomach threatens revolution once more.
He bends down on one knee and begins to undo the straps from around your ankles. He holds the back of your calf as he pulls the heel off and places it against the wall. You have to catch yourself on his shoulder to keep from falling but as soon as your foot falls flat on the floor, a languid moan leaves your lips.
“Good God, that feels so much better.”
He helps you slide out of the other high heeled shoe and stands. Without the heels on, he has a decent amount of height on you. You have to look up to meet his eyes, those eyes still shining with concern.
“Let me take the coat,” he says, lifting his hands toward you. You turn and shrug out of it, your limbs feeling awkward and heavy as you do so. He hangs it on a hook on the back of the door and gestures down the length of the hallway.
“It’s just the one bedroom,” he explains as he leads the way toward the main room. “You can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”
“No!” you blurt. “No, no, no you don’t have to do any of that oh my God.”
Hotch chuckles in response. “I think you’ll thank me in the morning if you do.” Wordlessly, you follow as he leads the way to the aforementioned bedroom. He flicks the light switch on and the lamp on his bedside table illuminates the room. It’s simply decorated with store bought abstract paintings and dark blue linens on the queen sized bed. A framed photo of Jack sits on the nightstand, angled toward the bed. The idea of Hotch lying there looking at the image of his son tugs your heartstrings. You move past Hotch and plop down on the bedspread before reaching for the photo. You smile as you look at Jack’s crooked smile.
“He’s so precious,” you muse and poke Jack’s nose through the flat plane of glass. You look up at Hotch from where he stands in the doorway. “He’s lucky to have a dad like you, sir.”
Hotch smiles softly and crosses the distance to sit beside you, the mattress sinking beneath your combined weight. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll be honest, it's hard to feel like a good dad some days with our job.”
You bump him with your shoulder, or at least that’s your intention.You more or less use your entire arm to nudge him just barely. “You give him all the time you’re able, we all see that. If we do, Jack definitely does.”
You pass him the picture frame and smile. Hotch smiles in turn, his lips together. “Thank you,” he says as he places it back on the nightstand. “I hope he grows into a good man.”
“With you as his father, there’s no doubt. There ought to be more dads like you out there to teach their sons how to be men.” Your smile falters and your voice grows small. “Maybe then they wouldn’t try to see just how far they can push the envelope.”
Tears spring to your eyes and you use the back of your hand to clumsily wipe them away. Turn off the waterworks, you chide yourself. Your temples already throb from how much the alcohol, first round of tears, and vomiting dehydrated you, no need to compound it now with more tears.
Hotch says your name quietly. “You can talk to me, you know.” He pats your hand that rests atop the bedsheets. “I’m not your boss right now, I’m your friend.”
Your lip quivers as you stare blankly at the wall ahead. “If I talk about it, that means I let it happen. I’m a fucking FBI agent, Hotch. I should know better than to drink that much. I should—”
Hotch’s brow pinches. “Woah, woah, woah,” he starts, “where is this coming from? You know better than anyone that how much you drink doesn’t matter, that doesn’t entitle anyone else to you or your body. And fuck if you’re an agent, you’re allowed to go and enjoy drinks and a night out without worrying if some asshole is going to try and take advantage of you. I think I scared him within an inch of his life, too. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
But it’s not about Andrew. It’s not about tonight anymore. Tears slip over your lash line.They’re hot and fat and you hate how they have little minds of their own, dropping freely down your cheeks. You know what he says is true. Hell, you preach it to everyone, especially when you teach self defense at the local university. What you wear is never an excuse for someone to touch you. How you dance isn’t an excuse for someone to grope you. How much you drink isn’t an excuse for someone to lay claim to your flesh. The only thing that means yes is explicit, enthusiastic consent. You know this. You teach this.
But right now, it’s so hard to believe because that’s what you had to fight so hard to teach yourself when you first had to learn what happened wasn’t your fault.
You drop your head into your hands and stifle a sob. “God, it was nearly ten fucking years ago.”
“What was ten years ago?” Hotch asks, his voice soft and kind.
Oh God. You’d said that out loud.
You scrub your hands over your face and curse as you smear mascara into your eye. “Fuck!” you exclaim as your hand flies to your eye instinctively.
“I’ve got something I think can help,” Hotch says as he rises from the bed and darts out of the room. From your point of view, you can’t see anything but you hear bottles rummaging around from where you imagine is the bathroom out in the hall. When he returns he carries a small green package in his hand. He crouches in front of you and peels back the plastic film on the container. With two fingers he extracts a wipe and folds it in half. As he reaches for your face he hesitates, wipe paused in mid air above your cheek. “Is this alright?” he asks.
Sniffling, you nod. With one hand, Hotch gingerly wraps his fingers around your wrist. As he pulls it away, he uses his other hand to place the cool moist towelette against your eye. He holds it there for a moment before he begins to wipe and blot at the black swirls of mascara that had dried in tear stained patterns around your eyes and cheeks and whatever vestiges of eyeshadow remained. Once that wipe is fully soiled, he retrieves a fresh one; repeating the gesture on the other eye before moving on and clearing away what remained of your face and lip makeup. You don’t speak while he does this, and you don’t have to. You needed it. You needed that. You needed someone. You needed him. A friend. Someone that would ask no questions and just show up for you when you needed them most. No questions asked. And when he did ask questions, when Hotch did, there was no expectation to answer. But right now, in this strange moment, in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, in his bed no less, you felt like you could finally tell someone.
“I was a teenager,” you say as he takes one final swipe at your cheek.
His hand freezes along your jawline and his eyes lock on yours. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently, lowering his hand.
“If I don’t say it now on what courage the alcohol left in my system is giving me, I’m afraid I never will.”
Hotch sits back on his heels. “Alright.”
“I was dating an older guy at the time. I was a freshman in college. He was a senior; vice president of his fraternity. He came from a wealthy family, too. I was naive and so excited to be dating someone like that, someone with status. I grew up comfortably, but not that well off. He took me to nice dinners and bought me expensive gifts. We had a physical relationship, and it started out fine enough.” You pause and take a deep breath. “But we started fighting. He wouldn’t,” you pause. “I couldn’t get him to talk to me or communicate in any way that led to resolution when we did. He’d just keep apologizing and told me that he’d do better next time. He’d start kissing me to interrupt and then his hands would be in my pants and I just,” you stop and shake your head. “I thought if I could just deal with what he did physically, that things would be fine again if I just pretended I liked what was happening and got it over with. I thought that we’d go back to the fun, happy go lucky couple everyone knew us as. Until it happened again, and again, and again. When he graduated I finally felt safe enough to break things off once there was distance between us. I knew something had felt off about those experiences. It never occurred to me that that was assault.”
“You suffered through numerous unwanted physical advances because he emotionally manipulated you through stonewalling.” Hotch says quietly. It’s not an explanation, but validation of your experience.
A choked laugh escapes your lips. “I know that now. At the time, I thought assault was like what you see on TV. That it’s some stranger in an alley that blitz attacks you. I never thought it could be someone you knew, let alone someone you were in what you believed was a loving and committed relationship.” You shake your head again, a wry smile playing on your lips. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that the perpetrators were almost alway statistically someone the victim knows.”
A warm hand slips into yours. You look up and Hotch is looking at you intently. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” He says, squeezing your hand.
You lick your chapped lips and drop your eyes, nodding. “It took a long time for me to learn that.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Hotch says. “To have gone through that alone,” he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” you reply, because what else was there to say? “I wasn’t completely alone. I did go to counseling throughout the remainder of my time in school, they had services for the students. There was a support group, too; one for people who’d experienced sexual violence. It was there I really learned that things weren’t my fault. Other people had experienced similar things. Without that, I don’t think I’d have made it through honestly. I definitely wouldn’t be here.”
His hand squeezes around yours once more. “I’m glad that you are.” He smiles and a dimple forms in his cheek. “I know I'm a better man for having known you. The team, hell, the impact you have on the lives of those going through the worst possible moments of their lives in these cases we work…you have touched so many lives for the better. Please never, ever forget that.”
You smile crookedly and it feels somewhat genuine. “What do you think gets me through the day?”
The throbbing in your temples intensifies suddenly and you screw your eyes shut, your hands moving instinctively to rub them. “God, I’m going to be so hungover in the morning.”
Hotch claps his hands together. “Let’s see if we can’t get ahead of that.”
He leaves the room and when he returns he has a glass of water. “Here,” he says and passes you the cup.
You graciously accept it and take a long drink, the cool water soothing your throat, raw from crying and vomiting. “Thank you,” you murmur.
“It would probably help if you got some sleep. Do you feel up to taking a shower?”
You scoff, “Ok, Hotch. I threw up and it helped a little bit, but I’m not that sober.”
He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. Let me at least get you some clothes. I know sleeping in a cocktail dress won’t be too comfortable.”
“Do you know?” you tease.
He presses his lips together. “Let me go see what I can find.”
You exhale a short laugh as he disappears from view and you fall back onto the mattress, a dull thud echoing as your body hits the sheets. You heave out a big sigh and stare at the ceiling. “This is a weird fucking night.”
You close your eyes and behind closed lids, it feels like you’re spinning. Yep, definitely not sober. You open your eyes and lazily reach up to start pulling bobby pins from your hair.
“Alright, I’ve got a pair of sweats and an old academy hoodie that should fit you.”
At the sound of Hotch’s voice, you let your head loll to the side. “You look absurdly tall from this angle,” you muse.
Hotch chuckles, “Spoken like someone desperately in need of sleep.” He steps into the room and drops the clothes onto the bed.
“Hotch?” you question, ignoring his last comment.
You roll onto your side and push yourself back into a sitting position. He arches an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Why is it you’ve got makeup wipes in your apartment?” You inhale sharply. “Ooo, are you secretly a drag performer?”
Hotch laughs. “I am not a drag performer, though I do think Anderson does drag brunch on Saturday mornings if I remember right.”
You blink twice. “I’m sorry, and you’re only telling me this now?”
Hotch shrugs. “I’m surprised you don’t know about it. Garcia does.”
Your jaw drops. “Garcia knows?? Oh, when I get my hands on her—”
“To answer your question though,” Hotch butts in, an amused glint shining in his eyes. “They’re Beth’s.”
A smile pulls at your lips. “Beth keeps things at your apartment? What are we talking, like, a couple of things on the counter? A drawer?”
Hotch’s eyes drop to the floor as a scarlet blush creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks.
“Oh my God, this is serious isn’t it?” You feel the apples of your cheeks as your smile widens. “Spill, Hotch! Should I be looking at outfits for the wedding?”
To that, Hotch raises his hands as a smile splits his lips. “Calm down,” he laughs. “We’re not quite at wedding bells, but we do see each other almost every weekend. With the commute on the train, it is easy to have a drawer or two at one another’s apartments.”
You feel like kicking your feet, you’re so happy. If anyone deserved this kind of joy and love in their life, it was Hotchner. God knows he deserved it after all the hell he’d been through, all the trauma he survived.
“I’m really happy for you,” you say. “Beth is a remarkable woman”.
Hotch nods, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “She is.”
You reach over and pull the clothes onto your lap. “Thanks, again, Hotch.” You toy with the sleeve of the hoodie in hand. “As horrified as I was when I realized I’d called you instead of Emily, I’m glad you came. I’m glad it was you.”
“We’re a team. We’re family,” Hotch replies. He leans against the doorframe. “Hell, I’m old enough to be your father. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt a bit more protective of you, anyway. So, when I heard your voice on the line, there was no hesitation. I’d like to think if I had a daughter and she were in trouble, that someone in her life would do the same.”
You spring off of the bed, a little uncoordinated due to alcohol still gently buzzing in your veins at this point, and throw your arms around him. You bury your face in his neck and though, muffled, you say, “Thank you, Aaron. Thank you so much, for everything.” You don’t need to say what for, he knows. Your gratitude extends far beyond just rescuing you from the night club.
His arms snake around you, his palms pressed flat against the middle of your back as he squeezes you tightly.
“You’re so welcome,” he says into your hair. “I’m so proud of you, you know. Don’t ever forget that.” He pulls away just so and presses a fatherly kiss to your hairline, “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
You nod and brush away a stubborn tear. God, you’d think you’d have nothing left in the tank at this point. You stifle a yawn as you close the door. The clothes Hotch left you fit well enough; the warmth and coziness of the fleece lined fabrics acting as security blanket as you tuck yourself in between the sheets. You barely remember to flick off the lamp on the bedside table before crashing onto the pillows where the heaviness of sleep finally drags you under to the sweet realm of nothingness.
Three things are incredibly clear the second you wake up: one, it’s too bright and you have to squint against the white rays of sunlight cutting through the slats in the blinds; two, your mouth feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton balls, you swallow but there’s not even an inkling of saliva to wet your dry throat; and three, it feels like someone has been slamming on a timpani inside of your skull.
You exude a long, slow groan into the pillow before rolling onto your side to get a glimpse of the alarm clock on Hotch’s nightstand. The red numbers blink back 10:23AM. There’s a fresh glass of water on the nightstand alongside two tablets and a folded piece of paper.
Your brow furrows as you prop yourself onto your elbow and reach for the note. You unfold it with one hand and in Hotch’s tight, neat scrawl it reads:
Ran out to grab a few things. I left some aspirin there on the table. You should probably take them.
-Hotch
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you mutter as you toss the paper onto the bed.
You try not to gag as the pills start dissolving on your tongue and quickly chase it with the glass of water. After washing them down, you make a rather unattractive display of gulping down the remaining water. You drink it so quickly that some spills over the glass and you have to use the sleeve of your sweater, well Hotch’s sweater oops, to wipe off your face.
It doesn’t sound like anyone else is home. Pushing back the sheets, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand and for the first time, the room isn’t spinning. Even though Hotch is out, you still walk on the balls of your feet as if you need to be quiet. It feels strange to be stepping out into the hallways and walking into his bathroom. Sure, you’d swung by his apartment a few times to drop off a file or other work necessities. You’d never been in his house though.
Walking in and using his bathroom feels so strange, like an invasion of privacy. Like his bedroom, it’s simply decorated. A shower curtain decorated with blue and green swirls lines one wall. Plush bath mats of a similar blue line the area in front of the shower and sink. His very few toiletries sit in a neat row to the left of the faucet on the sink. He’s a Gillette guy, interesting. You’d always taken him for an Old Spice sort of man. You hear the front door and stop profiling his bathroom, instead, quickly using it for its intended purposes. You can’t help yourself though as you dry off your hands. You pull open the two drawers beneath the sink and smile to yourself. The one holds all of Hotch’s things: razor, comb, toothpaste, the usual; the other is clearly Beth’s: makeup, hair elastics, and the green makeup wipes sit neatly inside among other items. You bump the drawers closed with your hips before making your way back out into the hallway.
“Hey, Hotch,” you say, “Thanks again so much for—” Words fail you as you look up and see JJ and Prentiss in his living room.
Wide smiles spread across their faces. JJ spreads her fingers and holds her hands in the air, “Surprise!”
Brow furrowed, you cross the room and let them pull you into quick hugs.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you all, but what’s going on? Where’s Hotch?”
Emily’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arc toward her hairline as she tilts her head, “He thought you could use a pick me up.”
“So, he called you guys?”
JJ nods. “We’ve all had rough nights, followed by even rougher mornings.” She inclines her head toward Emily. “Remember the morning Hotch ran that triathlon?”
Emily cringes. “God, don’t remind me!”
“Where is Hotch, anyway?” you ask, craning your neck around Emily and JJ.
“Oh,” Emily says, her lips forming the shape of the word. “He should be right behind us he—”
Just then, the front door swings open and it’s not Hotch.
“There she is!” exclaims Penelope. She waltzes into the apartment, adjusting the massive purse on her shoulder as she does so. Her knee length pink skirt swishes around her legs as she crosses the room to pull you into an embrace. The smell of jasmine clings to you as your face is buried in her chest and neck. She pulls away after a long moment, though her hands don’t drop from your shoulders. Her eyes scan your face. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you. Do not fret! Penelope is here to help get you feeling refreshed and revitalized!”
You look to JJ and Emily for help. “I look like shit, don’t I? Be honest.”
JJ shakes her head. “Noooo.”
Emily presses her lips together and tilts her head back and forth, “Well—”
JJ slaps a hand against her stomach and Emily winces. “What?!”
“Drink this,” Penelope says. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of yellow liquid. You take it and turn to read the label, Crisp Lemon Berry Pedialyte. “It’s got electrolytes. You need those!”
“Yes ma’am,” you say agreeably and crack open the bottle. The label makes it seem like it’ll be better than it is, but the taste is bearable. You need as much hydration as you can get at the moment, so you don’t complain.
“Sorry I took so long!” Hotch’s voice fills the room as he enters carrying a drink tray of coffees and an extra one in his free hand. “Line at the cafe was nearly out the door.”
“Oh my God, is that coffee?” you ask, salivating at the thought.
Penelope points a purple polished finger at you. “Finish that, then you can have coffee.”
He sets a cup down on the kitchen table before approaching them in the living room. “Non-fat, vanilla latte for you,” Hotch says, passing a cup to JJ. “London fog for Emily, can’t quite shake England there, can you?” he teases as Emily accepts the cup, not before flicking him off though with a cheeky grin playing on her berry red lips. Iced matcha green tea latte—”
“With soy?” Penelope questions, eyeing the cup suspiciously.
“With soy,” Hotch confirms and she accepts it happily.
“Last but not least, almond milk mocha for you.” He holds the cup out and smiles warmly. You hold his gaze for a moment, the exchange carrying more than a simple ‘thank you’ would allow for. He dips his chin just slightly in acknowledgment. As you reach for the cup, Penelope’s hand shoots out to intercept, her bangles jangling against her wrist.
“I’ll take that!” she chirps before taking a long sip of her own drink.
“Hey!” you whine.
Penelope gestures toward the Pedialyte with your coffee. “Finish!”
You roll your eyes and reluctantly chug the remaining liquid. “There,” you say and shake the empty bottle. “Happy?”
“Very!” pipes Penelope. “Oh! Here!” she reaches into her bag and withdraws a drawstring bag. Did she own the Mary Poppins bag? How did all of this fit inside of her purse? “I stopped by your apartment and grabbed a few things. Toothbrush, deodorant, change of clothes, the works.”
“Oh, Penelope Garcia, you are my angel!” You gratefully take the bag into your hands and disappear down the hall into the restroom.
The aspirin has started to kick in alongside what attempts you’ve made to rehydrate and the throbbing in your skull has dwindled to a soft drumming. Searching through the contents of the bag, you praise Garcia’s name as you find your skincare and toothbrush.
It takes all of ten minutes for you to brush your teeth, wash your face, and style your hair up and out of your face. Garcia had packed you two different styles of underwear, (leave it to her to give you the choice of thong or bikini styled undergarments. She’s probably also one of the only people you’d feel comfortable rummaging through your underwear drawer if you’re being honest) a pair of leggings, and a cropped Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. You change quickly and fold the sweats and sweater Hotch had lent you. You throw all of your toiletries into the bag and shrug it over shoulder before scooping Hotch’s clothes into your arms.
Hotch and the girls are sitting around the coffee table on the couch and recliner, enjoying their beverages. Penelope smiles widely when you emerge.
“There she is!” she exclaims. “I brought your Birkenstocks too. They’re by the door. Hotch said you’d worn heels out and I knew you definitely wouldn’t want to be in those.”
“Good call,” you say and take your coffee from Penelope. You take a slow sip of the warm mocha and moan.
Everyone laughs. Emily checks her watch and shoots up. “We better get going if we’re going to catch Anderson’s performance.”
Your eyes widen at that. “Wait.”
Emily smiles and nods. “Yep. He comes on in about an hour. We figured you’d need a nice greasy brunch after last night. The place he performs at makes a mean breakfast sandwich.”
“And potatoes with sausage gravy!” Penelope adds. “Though I’m more partial to mushroom gravy because precious baby piggies should not be slaughtered for my breakfast.”
“Okayyy, Penelope,” JJ teases as she loops an arm around her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure they added veggie sausage to their menu just for you.”
“Yeah,” Emily agrees. “They were probably afraid she’d hack their system and mess with their food shipments otherwise.”
Penelope looks over her shoulder as JJ guides her to the door. “I could do that!”
“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that!” Hotch calls after them as JJ and Penelope leave the apartment.
“I wonder if they remember I’m the one with the car keys,” Emily says, her lips drawn into a warm smile. “Meet you downstairs?”
You nod. “Yes, I’ll be there in a second.”
Emily nods and leaves. You cross the living room toward the door where Hotch stands, one arm holding it open.
“Hotch I—
He shakes his head. “Don’t.”
“No, Hotch. I’m serious. What you did for me last night, I can’t even begin to thank you.”
“And you don’t have to,” he says, his tone firm. You look up and meet his unwavering gaze. “I would do it again without question. Like I said last night, we’re not just a team, we’re family. We look out for each other. We pull each other up when we’re at our lowest. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.”
You can’t help the quizzical expression that pinches your features. “For what? All I did was wake you up in the middle of the night, throw up in your bushes, and kick you out of your own bed on a Friday night.”
Hotch laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, well when you say it like that, it definitely doesn’t look good. What I was going to say though, is thank you for trusting me. I know that I wasn’t who you expected last night, but I’m glad I could be the one to help you when you needed it. Furthermore, I’m incredibly grateful that you felt as though you could trust me to tell me about your past. I know that can’t have been easy. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I hope it’s clear now that you’ll always have a listening ear with me.”
A surge of emotion courses through you in that moment and you can’t help but launch yourself at him. You loop an arm around his neck and awkwardly attempt to hug him with the other arm that stills holds his clothes, the bundle of fabric creating an odd wedge between your bodies. Hotch is taken aback by the gesture, but his arms comfortably fold around your back and he squeezes you gently.
“I could’ve used someone like you, you know.” You say after a moment. “I didn’t really have any older male figures I could talk to at the time it happened.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he assures you. “And I’m not going anywhere. That is, until Strauss gets sick of me.”
You pull back and scoff. “Yeah, like that’ll happen any time soon.” You hold the clothes out to him. “Here! Before I walk out with them.”
“It’s actually a bit breezy out there,” Hotch says as he takes the bundle and passes you back the sweater. “Why don’t you take this?”
You reach out and accept it, pulling it back into your chest. “I’ll bring it with me to the office on Monday.”
“Sounds good,” he says with a smile. “Oh! And you’ll probably want these.” He walks away and while he’s off grabbing whatever it is he’s talking about, you scoop your heels up off the floor and slide into your Birkenstocks.
Hotch returns with a pair of black Ray Bans. “If I know one thing about hangovers,” he says as he passes them to you. “It’s how horrible a sunny day can be on the eyes.”
He reaches for the door knob and pulls it open for you. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
As you slide his sunglasses up the bridge of your nose, you curse. “Shit! The report on the McPherson case. I was going to work on it today. I’ll email it to you first thing tomorrow.”
“It’s already taken care of,” Hotch explains. “Emily and JJ took care of it for you before coming over this morning.” He’d orchestrated everything with them as soon as he’d woken up to make sure you had nothing to worry about today except for fighting your hangover. He’d not told them everything of course, he’d never betray your trust like that. Some things the team didn’t need to know, and that was okay. If you were ever ready to tell them, he knew you would in time. For now, he just told them that you’d had a tough night and would need some TLC from the girl gang. They hadn’t even bothered with follow up questions. The three girls were ready to drop what they were doing and change their plans to be able to bring comfort and fun to your Saturday morning. He’d have done the same thing for any of them if they’d been in your shoes.
Your lips quirk into a small smile knowing further words weren’t necessary to convey your gratitude and appreciation for all he’d done and continues to do. “I’ll see you, Monday.”
He smiles in turn, “See you, Monday.”
#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#f!reader#aaron hotchner comfort#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#hotch#aaron hotchner x female reader
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in search of silence
Eloise Bridgerton x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: r is in an abusive marriage, angst, el to the rescue, some fluff at the end
Summary: Eloise and R are childhood best friends. When a new season begins, they find themselves reunited for the first time since R has entered her marriage that was set up by her parents.
Prompt: could i request a fic with childhood bestfriends eloise bridgerton x f!reader. eloise and reader stopped talking to each other as often because reader got married and one day eloise catches reader’s husband being mean to her (this can be physically or verbally) and eloise defends reader and they rekindle their friendship/old feelings for each other.
sidenote, ive always loved your mcu women fics and im SO glad you’re taking requests for eloise now 😭😭🫶
A/N: thank you anon!! for both the request and the compliment. i love eloise sm this was so fun to write
Muffled shouting stole Eloise’s attention when she escaped from the ballroom of this week's ball that she had been forced to attend with her family. She hadn’t wandered far enough to no longer be able to hear the string quartet playing, but the sound of a deep voice yelling angrily was hard to miss as she passed what she assumed was a drawing room.
Though Eloise knew she should not eavesdrop, she found herself unable to mind her business and stopped in her tracks, gravitating closer to the commotion.
--
“I am through with you,” Your husband shouted, face red with rage.
The moment his hand had clasped forcefully around your wrist to drag you into a room with him earlier, you knew what was coming for you.
“James, please - someone will hear,” you responded in a hushed voice, thoroughly embarrassed at the thought.
“Let them! Everyone should know the bitch of a wife you are,” he spat.
You knew better than to talk back to him, and yet, “I’ve done nothing to you at all! You’ve no reason to -”
A heavy-handed slap to your face was sure to silence you. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheek, and your hand rose shakily to cradle the side of your face. Hot tears brimmed your eyes as you breathed deeply to steady yourself.
“I’m leaving.”
“Please -” you forced yourself to say, a feeble attempt to calm him down, lest his temper worsen on his way home.
“Enough from you! I-”
The door burst open and you felt as if your heart was about to leap out of your chest.
You were astounded to see Eloise standing in the doorway, her lips in a tight line. It had been long since you’d seen her last. She was beautiful, as always. For a moment you forgot your present situation until you noted the fire in her eyes. She was furious, but she kept herself composed, “Is everything alright in here? I heard quite the commotion from outside as I was passing by.”
“We are quite fine.” He turned back to you and after a moment, he spoke, “I’ll send the carriage back around for you once I arrive home. I cannot stand the sight of you at present.”
“Lady Bridgerton,” he said curtly. Eloise barely had time to register the fact that James was walking towards her and stepped out of his way just in time.
“Lord Anderson,” she managed out, deciding to forgo her polite curtsy. She had deemed that he did not deserve it.
You both jumped at the sound of the door slamming upon his exit.
Her head felt as if it was spinning. She’d recognized your voice from outside the instant you spoke. The thought of this being the reality of the marriage your parents had arranged for you devastated her. She wouldn’t let herself imagine how horrid it was for you when you were actually at home.
Your cheek still burned from being slapped and there was no doubt in your mind about it being tinged pink. You were beyond mortified and the relief of James finally having left had tears falling down your face rapidly.
As much as you wanted to take in Eloise, who you hadn’t had a moment alone with since last season, you were lost in your mind. You dreaded your impending arrival back home and prayed that your husband would be fast asleep.
After a few more seconds you pried your eyes away from the bookcase you had been staring at and settled your gaze on Eloise.
She somehow looked more stunning than you had remembered her to be and your heart squeezed painfully. Her hair curled carefully over her shoulders in such a familiar way and it reminded you of how you used to twirl her curls in your fingers whenever she would rest her head in your lap.
The Bridgerton made her way over to you carefully. The concern on her face was evident and you knew by the way her eyebrows were crinkling together that she had much to say.
She stopped when she was just a few feet in front of you. For once, she seemed unable to form a proper sentence.
You were sure she couldn’t find the right words. You weren’t sure how you should navigate this situation yourself, but you had had enough of the silence, “I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.”
Eloise shook her head immediately, “You have nothing to be apologizing for.”
There was another lull of silence. All either of you could do was look into each other’s eyes. Hers looked so sad. How you hated to see them so.
“I assure you I am quite alright.”
“There is no use in lying to me, Y/n/n.”
Your bottom lip trembles at the familiar nickname and she hurries closer, engulfing you in a hug.
She felt you trembling as she held you against her. “I’m here,” she whispered, arms wrapped tightly around you.
It was not long before sobs racked your body and all she could do was rub your back and occasionally give you a few words of reassurance. Eloise felt her heart splitting into pieces the longer you cried.
You were certain that you would give anything to stay in her arms forever. There was nowhere in the world where you felt safer. Her chest radiated warmth and you took comfort in the very familiar scent of her perfume.
Once you’ve calmed slightly, you apologize again, “I’ve missed you terribly. And I have been the furthest thing from a friend to you. I’ve allowed James to drive the people closest to me out of my life and I won't stand for it any longer.”
“I can’t have you getting in trouble because of me,” she shook her head.
“Oh, hush, El,” you chuckled wetly. “I’ve been in trouble with my Mama countless times because of you.”
She knew you were joking to make light of the situation, but she found nothing humorous about it. Especially not as she reached up to wipe away the tears on your face.
“How long has it been this way?” she inquired, speaking with a gentle voice.
“A handful of months. He’s become rather frustrated by the fact that I have yet to produce an heir for him and his displeasure with me grows stronger by the second.”
Eloise’s face scrunched in indignation, “That is ridiculous.”
“It’s fair enough - that is why he was searching for a wife in the first place.”
“It’s unacceptable behavior from him regardless of that fact,” she was quick to rebuke. She took your hand in her own and squeezed gently. The feel of your skin against hers made her heart race.
“I’d like to get out of the house tomorrow. Do you think your mother should have my head if I busied you the whole day?”
“Not at all. She’s missed you quite a lot as well,” Eloise smiled.
Your heart fluttered at the admittance.
“Will you be okay tonight?”
“I will. I’m sure he’ll drink himself to sleep the second he arrives home.”
You could tell Eloise didn’t like the sound of that, but she said nothing.
She was grateful that you wanted to spend the day with her tomorrow, not only because she would be eager to see how you were but also because she’d missed your company so very much.
--
Almost two fortnights later, you’re riding in a carriage to a ball with your husband sitting across from you. He grows tired of waiting for you to finally come to be with child. Intercourse with him is nauseating and at this point, you’re praying that your courses don’t come next month for a multitude of reasons.
The ride is sour, as you’ve just had a nasty argument, ending in you being pushed into a table. Your right arm ached still, but you were sure that nothing was broken.
You were excited to escape from your husband and find your dear Eloise the moment the opportunity arose. Your feelings for her made you ever so giddy when you were around her. You felt almost childish at your eagerness to leave your husband and find your friend, but you had been swept into this marriage on your just first season out, which was only last year. It barely gave you any time to enjoy balls with her without courting.
Running around with Eloise at the last ball felt so normal, oddly enough. It was incredibly refreshing to spend the better part of the evening with her, sipping on champagne and cracking jokes. Even though you knew it was slightly improper as you were now married and should have been at your husband’s side, listening to him boast about his fortune and how impatient he was to have an heir with whoever would listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It did anger him, however. You had learned so after the last ball when he reprimanded you for almost half of an hour about your behavior as if you were his child and not his wife.
You’d decided to behave for the first hour, at least. It frustrated you so to listen to James drone on to his acquaintances, but you knew it was what needed to be done since he was already on edge from his earlier outburst.
The Bridgertons arrived after you, and you spotted Eloise immediately. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw the way her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.
You squeezed James’ arm absentmindedly out of the excitement you felt. When he looked down at you, you played it off by giving him a look that should have been directed toward Eloise.
That had seemed to satisfy him well enough and he returned to his conversation, allowing you to return to observing your favorite Bridgerton from afar.
Eloise’s hair cascaded over one of her shoulders and two strands of soft curls beautifully framed the sides of her face. Her dress was blue, as it usually was, and it was embellished with embroidered flowers.
You could hardly peel your eyes away from her, but you forced yourself to redirect your attention to your husband once more.
After what you deemed an appropriate amount of time, you excused yourself to find more pleasant company.
It seemed as if you had run into almost every Bridgerton before her, though. You greeted all three of her present brothers before finding Violet and Agatha in conversation and curtsying to both. Violet even extended a hand to squeeze yours for a moment, happy to see you.
As soon as you began a conversation with her and Lady Danbury, you were accosted by Eloise, who gripped your arm excitedly. You winced briefly, now bruised from your earlier encounter with the table of your drawing room.
You relaxed your expression and the pinch in your brow was gone once it settled in that you were in Eloise’s presence, she still noticed your discomfort despite your futile efforts to mask it and found herself glancing down at your arm.
Her nostrils flared at what she saw, she had half the mind to find Lord Anderson at that moment, but she looked back up to you and saw the bright grin on your face and melted, a smile of her own growing quickly.
She swiftly looped her arm through yours and began to pull you away, wanting you to herself, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal Lady Anderson away. I’ve hardly had any time with her all week.”
The older women chuckled and shook their heads, recognizing this familiar routine that the two of you had been accustomed to last year.
“Have a nice time ladies,” Violet smiled, not even bothering to remind Eloise to attempt to fill a few spots on her dance card. She knew how the girl had missed you, and didn’t have it in her to force her daughter away from you. Violet rather appreciated how cheerful Eloise happened to get whenever you were around, especially at balls, where genuine smiles from the young lady were scarce.
Eloise guided you to a corner of the ballroom, not failing to make a stop at the refreshment table and hand you a lemonade. You were relieved to be by her side at last. There was nothing you had desired more in the past week, where you had only been able to promenade with her once, as James had been irritable.
The longer you were around her, the more you felt the pressure on your chest relieve itself. You were able to breathe so easily around Eloise. You suddenly became aware of the fact that her thumb was passively rubbing your arm and you had to blink a few times, not sure if you were dreaming it.
You ached for her to touch you more. You’d once attempted to imagine that your husband’s hands were hers, but they were far too rough, and you gave up quickly.
Your mind wandered for a moment, but before it could stray too far, you snapped yourself out of it.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you pointed out, turning your head towards your best friend. It was quite unlike her.
She tilted her head in a shrug, “You seem as though you could use a little quiet.”
“You know me far too well, Eloise,” a smile returned to your lips, something she never failed to do, and you shook your head. “But please, if there’s anyone I’d like to hear ramble, it is always you.”
Eloise scoffed in mock offense, “I do not ramble.”
“You do, too,” you teased. “I like it.”
She chortles in response and the two of you hold eye contact. She looks at you with a fondness that you recognize yourself often directing toward her.
Eloise breaks it for a short moment to glance down at your lips.
When she does it once more, you’re suddenly overtaken by instinct and put your lemonade on a serving tray, taking hers and doing the same.
“What-”
Eloise is interrupted by you taking her gloved hand in your own and dragging her out of the ballroom. She doesn’t miss the way you check over your shoulder for your husband, who is heavily occupied, drinking and joking happily with his friends.
You begin making your way into the gardens when you hear Eloise chirp up from behind you.
“We shouldn’t be out here,” she says, not quite like she means it.
You roll your eyes, “Then it’s a good thing you’ve never cared for rules, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” she couldn’t be offended, it was true, and it was exhilarating to be truly alone with you for the first time in such a long while.
You stopped when you’d reached a dead end and you were sure you were not only alone but completely hidden from anyone looking outside.
Eloise tried to stop her mind from racing. She couldn’t be sure of why you had pulled her out of the ballroom. She waited with bated breath to find out, trying to suppress the excitement she felt. You could just be in search of fresh air, or actual silence, which required you to be far enough to hear the music no longer.
Your breathing quickened as you stood in front of her. She took note of it, and against her better judgment, let her eyes flicker to your chest. Then up to your lips, which were parted slightly. Her eyes lingered, before finally meeting your own.
While you badly wanted to tell her everything on your mind, you could hardly form a proper sentence, “El…”
You could hear her breath, ragged from nerves as she took a step closer to you.
There was a question in your eyes. You were grateful that you did not have to utter it. She knew.
She told you that she knew with the glassy nature of her eyes, the parting of her mouth, and her breath fanning across your face as she brought herself closer.
You closed the distance, pressing your lips to Eloise’s. The gentle kiss did not take long to turn eager, almost desperate, both of you feeling free from the sole secret you had kept from each other.
Her lips were soft and warm. They were everything you had dreamed of.
You lost yourself in Eloise, your hands finding their way to her jaw. Your body felt as if it was being lit from the inside when she pressed you into her with a firm hand at the small of your back. Your head almost spun from the contact of her chest against your own.
Despite not wanting to, you pulled away the slightest bit to catch your breath. You did not miss the way she chased your lips.
She had never looked more beautiful. Your heart swelled as she began to smile, which turned into a breathy chuckle.
You shook your head as you joined her with a giggle and let your arms wrap around your neck, hugging her tightly.
“I love you, El. So much,” you whispered.
You felt her breath hitch and her arms tightened around your waist, “I love you too. So very much. It pains me so to watch you from across a ballroom when I want nothing more than to be by your side.”
All of a sudden, your reality came flooding back to you.
“You deserve so much more than that brute that calls himself your husband. He should be honored to spend the time with you that he does. He is a fool for not seeing how precious you are.”
Tears welled in your eyes as she spoke, “I wish I had never married, El. I’m miserable.”
“I know. I’m not sure how much peace this brings you, but you should know that I am here for you, at any time of day or night. You could barge into the Bridgerton house in the late hours of the night and I shall be ready to dissolve your worries with my charming wits and whatever biscuits we can find in the kitchens.”
You found yourself laughing, as you always did in Eloise’s presence, “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure,” her lips quirked up.
“What are we to do now? About us, I mean.”
“We’re going to have to find a way to get you out of that house of yours however often we can. And if Lord Anderson lays another finger on you I will sic my entire family and Lady Danbury on him. We’ll see how he likes that.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’d say I’m known for being ridiculous, you shouldn’t be surprised,” she raised a brow playfully before looking over her shoulder. “I highly doubt anyone is missing us in there…”
“What might you be suggesting, Miss Eloise,” you ask, feigning innocence.
“I think you know quite well what I suggest.”
#eloise bridgerton#claudia jessie#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#eloise bridgerton x reader#eloise bridgerton x you#eloise bridgerton x fem!reader#lesbian eloise bridgerton#lesbian#wlw#sapphic
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The JJK Crew as Firemen
Okay lads and gentlebugs, it's damsel time! This is how they meet you, rescue you, and fall in love...all in their fully uniformed line of duty.
Starring: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Ino, Megumi, Yuuji, Higuruma, Sukuna and Toji
Warnings: Building fires, road traffic collisions, suicide attempts, injuries, earthquakes, floods, wildfires, near-drowning, Ferris wheels, highly irresponsible use of fire-trucks
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Gojo
Satoru had agreed to take an extra shift, with the threat of bad weather, and he regretted it-- this storm was biblical. The skies were so black and pregnant with rain, it may as well have been night. The billowing rains slapped and stung Satoru's cheeks. Drivers were blinded, their wipers failing to clear their windscreens even at maximum speed. People stumbled, buffeted into the roads by violent winds. And Satoru's sense of humour could only get him so far when members of the public made increasingly irrational decisions, and placed themselves in danger.
But not you, he thought, as he stepped into the wild torrents of overflowing river water, to the dismayed shouts of his colleagues, you absolutely don't deserve to die like this.
Trying to head home, kept cruelly late by a manager who didn't care how far you had to travel, you had missed your bus, and had to take a dangerous detour over a little river bridge, public transport services all abruptly cancelled. One violent sweep of wind was all it took to rock you over the little fence, and you clung desperately to weeds on the riverbank, soaked, shivering, gulping at murky, frigid, terrifyingly climbing waves.
"I'm coming," shouted the fireman, white-haired, tall, throwing off his heavy uniform jacket, with no regard for his own safety, "just hold on, I'll get you out, I promise--" Satoru sloshed and slipped, his t-shirt muddy and plastered to his chest as he slid down the riverbank. He allowed his colleagues to hurriedly harness him. Hitting the water, his abs clenched painfully with the cold, and he began to wade towards you.
You cried out, feeling your grip on life be washed away as the riverbed crumbled, releasing the weeds you clung to. As the river grasped you, your hands flung desperately out, holding your breath, praying, praying--
An enormous hand gripped your own, and a long forearm drew you close with one almighty heave. Satoru dug his fingers deep into the river wall, feeling the jarring rub of stones embedded in smooth wet squelch.
"Don't let go, just hold onto me--" Satoru reached under the water, gripping your thighs and making you grasp them around his hips. You flung your arms round his neck, your face in his chest, and he held you like this, stepping back against the onslaught of the river as his colleagues reeled you both in.
Still carrying you, his arms locked under your bum, Satoru staggered up the riverbank, drenched, chest heaving you up and down against him. You glanced up at him meekly, trembling and cold. Satoru sighed, grinning down at you.
"Come on then. Tell me your name, 'cos we're gonna have to get undressed for me to warm you up."
Nanami
A wave of heat slapped across Kento's face, and he pulled equipment to his body in a practiced rush. A smash and a roar burst from the inferno in front of him, as a window exploded, blackened glass spraying through the air. The apartment block was being gutted as he watched.
"Sir! Sir!"
"What is it, Ino?"
"Evacuation incomplete, sir. There's someone left on the second floor."
Kento pulled his mask down, eyes shooting up to an opened window, a white sheet hanging out of it, flapping as the heat rose from below. Crews around him shouted to be heard over the roar of flame, with cannons shooting water, attempting to quell the fire from the lower floors. Crowds of pyjama'd residents were herded away, confused and bleary-eyed as flames ate their homes.
"Is the left stairwell clear, Ino?" Takuma faltered as Kento stamped his boots into place, yanking on his gloves.
"For-- for now-- you can't be serious sir--" Kento huffed inside his mask, clapping Ino on the shoulder, Ino buckling slightly at the strength behind it.
"I'm always serious, Ino."
Without another word, Kento stepped towards the building, sweating in his suit as he moved into a stairwell, belching smoke. His senses were dulled, his vision boxed-in, hearing his own panting breaths in the fishtank of his helmet. Taking the stairs two at a time, he hesitated and turned at the top; Kento looked down the stairs, feeling heat scorch up towards him, the fire spreading rapidly, closing off his exit.
Out of time, he thought. Approaching a corridor, its doorway jammed, swollen and warped, Kento lifted a foot and kicked it effortlessly through with a roar, the door splintering and buckling under his boot.
"Are you here? Shout for me," Kento bellowed into the corridor. His ears pricked at the shouts and coughs from the end of the corridor. Building into as much of a run as his equipment would allow, he reached another door, its paint raised and wrinkled by the heat.
Kento stepped back, turning sideways as he rammed the door with his shoulder, once, twice, three times, and barrelled through as it splintered under his weight.
Spinning his head, he saw you, crouched on the floor beneath your window, terrified and relieved in your pyjamas. Kento stepped to you, kneeling, his gloved hands moving over your body, checking you for injury. You stared into him, unable to stop yourself from grabbing his forearms, hands shaking and cold despite the blazing heat churning through the floor.
"I thought-- I thought I was going to die here," you gasped, trembling. Kento's heart creaked, and he was surprised, shaking it off-- do your job, Kento, he chastised himself.
"At least if we die here, we won't die alone. Can you stand?" You nodded, rising on shaking legs, and immediately dropped down, your eyes stinging and burning from the smoke billowing across the ceiling, pouring in from the corridor.
Kento's heart dropped to his stomach as the floor shook- an almighty crash down the corridor signified its collapse. Keeping you close with one arm round your waist, Kento leaned out of your window. With a grateful lurch, he could see his colleagues ready with the parachute canopy, waving, calling, beckoning him down.
Kento pulled you close, your back against his chest, both arms wrapped in an arresting grip around your belly and chest-- "Do you trust me?" His heart skipped again as you turned your head, gazing into him through his visor, nodding.
Kento sat backwards on the window ledge, forcing you to sit on his lap. He tried to bracket you with his arms and legs, giving a satisfied grunt as you pressed yourself hard against him.
"On three," he toned, low and heady in your ear, "...one." You squealed and squeezed his arm as he dropped backwards, both of you gripped by gravity and hauled earthwards. Kento grunted as you landed in the parachute, shielding you from impact.
The weightlessness continued as the parachute was carried from the building and placed gently on the ground. Shouts and cheers and roaring flames rang into the night, and heavy gloved hands clapped on Kento's arms and shoulders, from which you had not been released. You trembled in his lap, feeling his chest heave against your back.
When Kento broke out of his reverie, he caught your eyes staring up at him, soft and grateful, trying to see him through his helmet.
"My hero," you whispered, just quiet enough for him to hear. Kento's heart stuttered. He lifted one gloved hand and removed his helmet, blond hair messy, a fine sheen of sweat across his cheeks, his brown eyes flickering amber in the firelight. You bit your lip, drinking him in. He still had not let you go.
Geto
The whispering crowd was infected; the morbid curiosity of a thronging mass, negated the base empathy of its participants, and replaced it with a spectacle-hungry monster.
Suguru felt the grumbling rubber-neckers by the bridge be reluctantly pushed back by police officers. The first out of his fire truck, Suguru pushed through, sleek as a fish swimming upstream, and ducked under the police officers' arms, unhindered due to uniform privilege. He picked up pace as he approached the stairs, his heart in his mouth.
And, on the railings of the bridge, stood you; you trembled, so exposed and vulnerable. Nothing could make this better. Nothing could ease this naked agony. Nothing in death could be more painful than the burden of life. Nothing could possibly eke you back from the edge of this--
"Hey. I'm Suguru. I'm sorry this is happening to you."
His voice pierced your reverie, and the world slowed around you both. The passage of leaves on the wind stilled. The collective voice hushed. The railings gripped you tightly by the hands.
"And it's not going to be easy. Coming back from this. Getting better."
Your lips puckered upwards and you hiccuped, your sobs wet, your nose dripping. As you shook, one foot slipped off the edge of the bridge and the crowd shrieked as you partially dropped, the collective voice now drowning you, leaves twirling on a whirlwind, railings forsaking you--
You felt two strong arms grip around your waist. Scrabbling against them with stress-bitten nails, your foot tried to gain purchase again. Your weak little heart caved at the effort required and you teetered, weeping and floppy, half-on and half-off the bridge.
"I can let go of you. If you need me to. I understand. But...I don't think you do want me to."
Embraced like this, you felt warm. It was much easier leaping from the cold air than from warm arms, which had given you permission both to die, and to live. Your heart creaked, the choice suddenly made easy.
"Pull me up," you sobbed as you felt the arms tighten around you, "pull me up pull me up pull me u--"
You fell with a thud against the warm voice, and grasped onto it, curled into its lap, sobbing your heart out, the crowd beneath you sounding both relieved and disappointed. The warm voice soothed you, rocked you, stroked your hair.
You found yourself, in a few slow blinks, sat in the back of an ambulance, hands trembling around a hot drink, wrapped in a silver foil blanket. You stared blankly, numb, into the rising steam. A few short taps came from the ambulance door.
You looked up to see a beautiful man who you didn't recognise, handsome, slanted eyes glimmering, his long black hair pulled up into a bun. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognised to whom the warm voice belonged.
"You should be proud of yourself. It's not easy accepting help. Can I sit with you?"
Ino
The road was carnage, with debris scattered across tarmac, the remnants of one car smouldering weakly in dying flames, and the cries and sobs of a bloodied man being carried away on a stretcher. Still, the queue of traffic behind beeped and cussed, so outrageously inconvenienced.
Your car was crushed around you, the splitting pain in your leg made so much worse by the anxious claustrophobia of these crumpled walls, and not knowing how injured you really were. The sickening speed of the crashrolltumblecrash that had trapped you here, replayed in your mind on repeat. You felt panic claw up your throat, tasting your own blood as it dripped down your cheek and into your mouth.
"Wow, girl! You really didn't like this car, huh?"
The ridiculous flippancy of the statement was so incongruous, you laughed. Sniffling and trembling, you looked sideways through broken glass. A young man, his face friendly and open, squashed in his helmet, stared back at you, a sympathetic smile in his eyes.
"My name's Takuma. I'm here to get you out of this car, me and my friends. You look like you could use some help." Your lips pinched and you moved to nod, but Takuma's hands darted out, his fingertips to your cheeks and temples, holding your head.
"No. Don't. Your neck could be injured. Just...still as you can, okay? Good girl."
Takuma reached into a pocket, pulling out earplugs and putting them in for you, gingerly pulling a pair of goggles over your eyes. He removed them again briefly, gently swiping his thumb over a drip of blood about to run into your eye, wiping it on his trousers, replacing the goggles.
Takuma and his crew made short work of cutting through the pillars of your wrecked car, lifting the roof and doors off as if they were made of cardboard. After paramedics confirmed the integrity of your spine, hips and legs, Takuma managed to kneel beside your seat, working to release your trapped leg.
Fearful, your hand reached out, lying on Takuma's shoulders, gripping the back of his collar. Wordlessly, and without looking back, Takuma shook off one glove as his other hand worked, and reached up to hold your hand in his, rested together on his shoulder. You felt a curious tranquility run through you at his effortless kindness.
Your foot released, with a rush of pain as blood throbbed in your toes. You felt a twinge of disappointment as Takuma stepped back, allowing himself to be replaced by the concerned hands of medics.
"Not every day you get to be rescued by someone so handsome, huh?" Takuma laughed, framing his jaw faux-smugly between his thumb and forefinger. You smiled up at him, cute and appreciative in a way that made his belly clench.
"No. It's not every day I get to be rescued by someone so handsome."
You did not realise heroes could blush so sweetly.
Megumi
"Here. C'mon boy-- over here. You-- over there. Good boys."
Megumi expertly directed his dogs, one black and one white, against the threat of night-time's approach. News crews inconvenienced him, and he scowled, traversing rubble and wires as shouting rescuers tried desperately to set up floodlights. A chill bit through the air.
"...tonight, as a 7.8 magnitude earthquake rocked the city. The search for survivors continues as..."
Megumi raised his head to the tune of three short barks from his dog, and he jogged to the corner of a collapsed school, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. His black dog pointed keenly to a crushingly large pile of rubble, no building left for lessons and lunchtimes. Megumi reached into his pocket, offering his dog a treat, scratching its ears and head to the tune of a proud wagging tail.
"Good boy, good boy. Wait here for me." Megumi headed to the rubble, keen eyes scouring, ears astute and listening. He found an opening, the remnants of a collapsed doorway. He heard shuffles, coughs. He shoved some loose brickwork aside, and you felt rays of evening sunlight pierce what you thought was to be your grave.
"Can you hear me?" shouted Megumi, and you clung to his voice from your little coffin. Your eyes pricked with tears as the shadow of a young man blocked the rays of light, and he raised a torch, creating a beam of light, illuminating yourselves to each other.
"You got under a table?" Megumi asked, impressed, appreciative, "That saved your life. Good job."
You smiled wetly, your cut hands clotted with brick dust, and you moved to come out from under the table towards him. A perilously leaning wall teetered above you as you emerged, and you felt a shadow begin to drop over you.
With a scream, and Megumi's harsh shout, you braced for impact...and felt none. Your body felt suddenly warm, pleasantly cushioned. Opening your eyes you felt the young man lying full-length across you, his forearms braced on the floor, impossibly strong as he shielded you from the collapsed brickwork. You gasped, still and shocked, as he planked against you.
"Get yourself out. Now," he grunted. You nodded, slithering out from underneath him, leaving bloodied handprints on the brickwork as you clambered out to safety. A rough groan behind you signified Megumi somehow shaking most of a wall off his back, and crawling out to meet you.
Again, impossibly, you were the one who swayed on your feet, and Megumi reached his hands out to steady you. Two eager dogs sniffed around you both, and Megumi's frown deepened with a pretty pink blush as you gazed into him with unabashed admiration.
"Get yourself to the medics," Megumi grumbled, rubbing brick dust out of his spiky hair, "they'll help you from he--"
"I will. If you give me your number."
"You-- you are out of your mind."
Yuuji
Yuuji lowered his visor, and regretted it immediately as the rain slapped against it. Reluctantly, he raised it, feeling instant cool trickles from fringe to eyebrows. Blinking water away, he crowded amongst his colleagues, all fresh fire-service arrivals to provide relief and rescue from this flooded valley town.
Twisting round, flicking muddy splatters, Yuuji's ears pricked as his Captain, Nanami Kento, barked orders.
"Ino, Maki-- provide aid and rescue for the eastern quarter. Kugisaki, to the west. Itadori--"
Nanami hesitated at Yuuji, who would have been wagging his tail if he had one. On a hitched breath, Nanami continued.
"Itadori, survey the northern lane's integrity before we move towards evacuation. Do not," Nanami warned, slanted eyes narrow through his visor, "do anything dangerous."
Yuuji appeared thoughtful; "And by dangerous, you mean...?"
"Itadori."
"Got it sir. Nothing dangerous," Yuuji offered with a wink and a salute. Nanami stared after him with silent despair as Yuuji jogged, splashing down the waterlogged lane.
Yuuji hummed to himself, his voice breaking and springing as he jogged, blowing rivulets of water away from his lips, slipping through the mud road between lanes, hedges, trees, descending down a winding hill. He heard the hushed roar of torrents of water, and rounded the corner curiously.
The river had burst its banks, submerging a hidden dip in the road. The water sloshed, murky with sediment, lapping at an enormous felled tree, underneath which--
"Shit...shit!" Yuuji cussed, seeing a small car, almost completely submerged, partially crushed under the weight of the tree. Yuuuji sprinted, feet slapping and skidding in the wet slop of the road. Inside the car, splashes, and a desperate wet voice.
"Oh fuck--hang on, just hang on, I'll get you out." Yuuji sloshed into the flood, chest deep, keeping his footing as the undercurrent threatened to sweep him away. Leaping over felled creaking branches, rattling in the wind, Yuuji met a pair of small pale hands at the window of the car. He pressed his broad palms flat against the glass, your last remaining barrier to complete submersion.
Tear-stained, awaiting death, you stared out at him, hyperventilating, gasping, "I don't want to die here-- not like this-- I can't get out--" Yuuji took a step back, eyes wide and fearful, brimming with doubt. You saw this in him, and your lips puckered, sobbing, snotty and cold.
"I know," you reassured him as you shook, "there's nothing you can do...the tree-- you can't move it in time. I can't-- I can't--"
"I can."
You stopped, palms flat against the glass, sweet eyes boring into Yuuji, and he was possessed by malcontent.
"I can," he insisted, throwing his yellow jacket and helmet off to sink away into the muddy depths. His black t-shirt clung to his form. Even young and drenched, he looked...powerful. Still, you shook your head, slowly at first until you filled with certainty.
"You can't," you insisted, assuaging him from guilt, "you're not strong eno--"
"No, I'm strong. I'm really strong. Not smart, but--" Yuuji pulled his gloves up, taking a staggered stance with his palms flat under the tree. He turned sideways, eyes wide and innocent as he grinned.
Teeth gritting, Yuuji roared as he heaved the tree trunk. His arms shook, wet biceps bulging against his sleeves as he heaved and bellowed. As you opened your mouth to insist he stop, the words caught in your throat-- somehow, in a masterclass feat of strength, you saw the tree trunk begin to lift off the roof of the car, taking pressure off the frames and doors.
"Oh my god," you squeaked, voice strangled in amazement, "keep going, you're doing it, good boy good boy good boy--"
With one final wild exertion, Yuuji shunted the tree, and it rolled with a thick splash down the bonnet. Wading towards the car, Yuuji gripped the door handle, ready to pull against the stunning mass of water.
"When I open this, the car's gonna fill up," he pondered aloud, "so..."
"I'll reach out for you," you nodded, gasping, the water up to your chin. Yuuji's lips curled appreciatively, and he maintained eye contact as he counted down.
"Three, two, one...go!" Yuuji grunted, heaving the door open, filled with terror as your face disappeared in a rush of brown. Shoving his thick thigh into the gap, he reached in, begging, praying--
-- Yuuji felt two cold hands grip his forearms, and he gripped in return, heaving you through the torrent into his arms.
In mutual relief, chests heaving against each other, you coughed and spluttered in Yuuji's arms, fingers sinking into his hair, planting wet kisses of thanks to his cheeks.
"You saved my life," you pressed, voice breaking, "How am I ever...how can I ever...?"
"You can...just call me 'good boy' again? Just once more?"
Higuruma
"Shit-- it's spread so fucking fast--"
Higuruma Hiromi wasn't sure if the crushing, oppressive heat was coming from the sun, the scorched earth beneath his feet, or the wall of flames devastating the dry summer forest before him.
Eyes wide and appalled, his frown wrinkled his hooked nose, drips of sweat trickling through spiky black hair and onto the thirsty earth. His black t-shirt was claustrophobically tight against prickling skin, and he ran two hands down his chest before pulling on his yellow jacket and helmet.
With a sharp intake of breath, he began to boom orders to his scurrying team; "you know what to do-- restrict the spread, we have to stop this encroaching on the--"
"Sir, please! Please, listen, there's someone in there--"
Hiromi's head snapped round, hawkish black eyes like beetles in the firelight, and landed on a park ranger, fighting to be heard over the roar of flame and barrier-arms of police officers. Hiromi stomped over to him, one harsh finger pointed in the officers' face to prevent his interruption before he could start.
"You say there's someone in there? In the forest? Be clear," Hiromi commanded. The park ranger gulped.
"One of the other rangers, she-- she's trying to save some of the bird-boxes-- endangered species--"
Hiromi laughed, humourless, as he rubbed his face, gazing to the heavens, between two long-fingered hands.
"Endangered species-- she's a fucking endangered species, at this rate--" Hiromi laughed again, breathing in through his mouth, and out with a sandy groan and a decision.
"Begin at the edges," he commanded to his team, jogging towards a break in the trees, "I'll be back, if I'm lucky." Hearing the frantic shouts of his team beckoning him back, Hiromi's boots stamped over the embering earth, all noise fading and replaced by hellish heat and the lick of devil's tongues.
Hiromi panted, chest heaving as it gulped in heavy air and ashes, embering leaves wisping to the floor around him. Spotting a sign, its information barely legible as the paint wrinkled up from the surface, he sprinted onwards through the inferno, leaping over logs, skidding through wafer-dry foliage, the flames in the branches above him creating the burnt-umber sunset of a hellscape.
Approaching a circular fence, the bird sanctuary was engulfed, and inexplicably, a woman halfway up a tall wooden ladder was detaching a bird-box from the side of a tree. Hiromi skidded to a halt, incredulous, snorting in derision.
Your skin felt as dry as tanned leather on your cheeks as you tucked the bird-box under your arm and began to step down the ladder. Just one more, you thought, I can get just one mo--
"I don't like to interrupt someone passionate about their job, but are you quite finished?"
You jumped, clasping the bird-box to your chest as Hiromi loomed over you, his anger rising so much taller than he was. You swallowed, tongue like sandpaper, answering honestly.
"I'm not, actually, I've got one more to--"
Hiromi's gloved hands had cupped around the birdbox, gently plucking it out of your hands and into his. You squealed indignantly as he ducked, throwing you over his shoulder with one arm, grunting as you wriggled and kicked.
"Do as you're told," Hiromi chastised as you thumped at his back with your fists, crying out, sobbing as he carried you away, "I appreciate your diligence but--"
"No, please-- just listen--" you sobbed, reaching back as he carried you and the single bird-box away, "--the eggs-- the last breeding pair--"
Hiromi stopped despite himself, feeling the flames ringing closer around him. He tapped his foot, furious, considerate. Placing you down with a huff, he walked back to the ladder. As he picked it up, he shot you a hot-eyed look of sarcastic inquisition. Lips puckering mulishly, you pointed to the tree beside him.
Wordlessly, his body language dramatically muted, Hiromi placed the ladder and took it two rungs at a time. Removing the birdbox, gripping it in one fist, Hiromi slid down the sides of the ladder and stamped back to you, pressing the bird-box into your arms beside the other.
As your eyes melted at him in a soft little smile, embracing your bird-boxes, Hiromi blushed, glaring at you without venom. He ducked down in front of you slightly, not breaking eye-contact. Your head tilted owlishly, and Hiromi felt his belly twist in odd delight.
"What are you--" the air was thumped out of you as Hiromi hefted you over his shoulder again, and he huffed out a laugh as you swore at him. You clung to your bird-boxes as he ran through the flames, gasping and squeaking as he leapt over, under, through...
Hiromi burst out of the forest and into the open, cooled instantly by the wind-carried cool spray of a dozen hoses. Hiromi dropped you down, and you fell to your knees beside each other, panting, feeling the water drizzle down your bodies.
"So," Hiromi gasped, throwing off his jacket and t-shirt, groaning at the cool water dripping down his chest, "tell me about your birds."
You pressed your forehead to his bare-chest, breath grazing across it as you laughed, sending shivers down Hiromi's spine. Resting your cheek on him, looking up with lovestruck, appreciative eyes, Hiromi wondered faintly that he could listen to you tell him about birds all night.
Sukuna
This was the worst day of your life. You had made a horrible error of judgement, and you prayed to the god who had forsaken you, steeping in the consequences of your own actions. You would live the rest of your days in terror, stomach cold and gripped and roiling with fear, never happy again--
To the amused intrigue of onlookers, you were enjoying an extra-long ride at the top of a colourful Ferris Wheel. But you were afraid of heights, and had chosen a beautiful summers' day to challenge yourself. And then the Ferris Wheel got stuck. And now you were going to die up here.
You slid off the seat and onto the floor, and sobbed as your little carriage rocked in the wind. The Ferris Wheel creaked, and you felt a cold terrified sweat drop down your chest, your hands flinging out to clutch the seats. Head tipped back and eyes closed, you felt panic settling in--
"Oi. Woman. Do you want this, or not?"
You shrieked at the suddenly-appearing pink-haired man clung to the outer bars of your carriage, his face nothing short of bored and pissed off as he held a bottle of water out to you.
"What the fuck-- are you doing up here-- did you climb here?"
Sukuna snorted at you, eyes narrowed and cruel as he took you in, all sweat and tears and skirt tucked all the way up to your hips.
"Look at you, what a fucking mess," he cooed to your furious blushes, eyes brimming with tears again, "you're normally my type, but--"
"Are you just here to make fun of me?" You hiccuped, snatching the bottle of water out of his hand, unscrewing the cap as Sukuna laughed at you. With a wicked glint in his eye, Sukuna jumped his feet against the bars, rocking it, and you shrieked, clinging to the seats and sloshing water over your thighs as he laughed harder.
"Oh baby," he mocked, "you scared of heights? Want me to hold your hand?" He lifted his feet to rock the carriage again, but stopped, frowning as you answered.
"Yes," you hiccuped, "please. Hold my hand." As your little hand slid up the wall of the carriage towards his gripped around the bars, Sukuna snorted, turning his face away from you.
"It's hot," he stated, blunt, "I was told to bring you water. I've done my job. I'm not gonna hold your--"
"Please." His stomach flipped, cock twitching involuntarily inside his uniform as you begged. Sukuna snorted again, ignoring you. As you started to sniffle, weeping, your hand slid down away from his. A heartbeat passed, and you felt a strong, warm hand reach in, fingers plaiting through yours.
"You're pathetic," he mocked, still staring out across the sea, his voice a little softer now, "what the hell are you doing in a Ferris Wheel if you're afraid of heights?"
"I wanted...I wanted to see if I could--"
"Idiot. Now you're stuck here," he snapped, almost sounding concerned, his heart fluttering in a way that made his neck prickle as you rested your tear-dampened cheek against his hand in yours.
You and Sukuna stayed this way, your cheek against your fingers plaited in his. The carriage became gradually bathed in a warm pink sunset, lighting up the coral of his hair. The sway was gentle, a little boat on lilting tide.
Finally, a short jolt rumbled the carriage to life, and it began to trail in a circle back towards the ground.
Just before your carriage ground to a halt, Sukuna spoke, slow and mischievous.
"Hey. Woman."
"What?" you answered, unaware of your skirt hitched up around your waist.
"Cute little panties you've got there."
The shrieks of rage and cackling laughter could be heard all the way down to the beach.
Toji
"You've called-- you've called him in? Are you out of your mind?" Satoru gaped at Nanami, his fellow Captain, gobsmacked as Nanami pursed his lips in irritation.
The fire-truck was parked to the side of the main road; all cars were halted, abandoned, swarmed by rioters in scarves and balaclavas, hundreds upon hundreds of them, a swirling mass of destruction in the streetlights. Riot police vainly attempted to form a blockade, stumbling as bodies slipped past them, shop windows smashing, flaming bottles tossed.
"We need the bodies," Nanami pressed, stripping his t-shirt off, thick muscular arms reaching into the truck to find a clean one, "how often do the riot police call us in for support? Besides, he looks...intimidating. He may serve as a...deterrent."
Satoru snorted derisively, "He was fired for a reason, Nanami, mark my--"
"Hey, kid, long time no see."
Satoru stiffened as a shadow loomed over him, one heavy hand clapping down on his shoulder. Toji smirked, his scar twisted, raising his boot to put out his cigarette on the sole. He stamped his boots into place, his yellow rubber trousers tatty and worn, jacketless and terrifyingly ripped in a tight black t-shirt.
"So..." Toji continued, staring into the chaos ahead of him, "support the cops, yeah?" He sucked his teeth, rolling his shoulders. Nanami nodded, brisk, shoving a helmet towards Toji, grimacing as it was immediately rejected. Nanami shrugged, not wishing to waste time arguing, and directed the firemen towards the crowd to encourage some form of calm.
Toji stayed back, choosing where to go. At a glance, he saw a young woman duck down behind a car, arm raised to toss an egg at the back of a police officer's head. You caught Toji's eye, a bandana pulled up covering your lower face, and he laughed under his breath as your eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Little minx," he muttered, admiring the quiet subversion. Laughing out loud as you tossed the egg, landing a direct hit, Toji moved on, stepping towards a shop, his passive presence alone enough to scatter the looters inside.
The pressure from the crowd built, peaking, and Toji felt the mood in the air change from rave gone overboard to aggression and spite.
Seeing the crowd pulse and surge, Toji spotted you in the front, crushed, buffeted against the officers' riot shields. You caught his eye again, now desperate and pained, instead of playful. Toji felt himself clench, stepping in behind two of the riot officers, who barely had time to glance at him between wild shouts at the crowd.
Easily, with two strong hands, Toji parted the shields just enough for you to drop through, and he caught you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. As you stared up at him, speechless and waiting to be arrested, he looked down at you, the glimmer in his eyes threatening shenanigans.
"I don't know about you," he drawled, low and slow, "but these clowns couldn't break a nail, let alone a crowd." You laughed, tinkling and sweet, and Toji felt a burst of ego for having caused it.
"Ever been in a fire truck, sweetheart?"
Moments later, the fire truck rumbled to life, its sirens ringing and flashing in warning. The pressure of the crowd eased for a moment, hundreds of enquiring eyes on you and Toji in the front seats, one of his hands resting across your belly, protective, shielding you in place.
The enquiring eyes turned fearful as the fire truck reversed, then slowly swung to face the crowd and riot officers alike, revving.
With a smirk, Toji allowed the truck to jolt forwards. The crowd cried out collectively, its stance breaking, dozens of people scattering to escape the scene. Revving again, the truck jolted forwards once more, harder this time. Half the crowd stumbled, falling over themselves to run. With one final booming rev, the crowd shrieked and shouted, scattering like spiders up and down the length of the street, no act of protest apparently worth getting run over for.
And as you and Toji were pulled, laughing, from the fire-truck, both being slammed and cuffed against the nearest police car, your eyes met, and your bandana slipped down to reveal your lovely grin.
Toji smirked, heads on the car facing each other. Shooting you a wink which made you giggle and blush, he snorted to think that maybe he was just the right dismissed ex-fireman to get the job done.
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Wheeeee, rescue me fire daddies 🚒🔥
#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami#nanami kento#suguru geto#geto suguru#getou suguru x reader#jjk#jjk nanami#geto suguru x reader#takuma ino#ino takuma fluff#ino takuma#megumi fushiguro#toji fushiguro#jjk megumi#toji x reader#itadori yuuji#yuuji x reader#itadori yuji x reader#higuruma hiromi#jjk hiromi#hiromi x reader#hiromi higuruma x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna
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Give In | Platonic!Yandere!Hawks x Teen!Reader
This had to be the worst day of your life.
You didn't think anything would top being kidnapped, but here you were sunken into the couch of your 'home' weighed down by your own dejection.
Your entire body was cold.
Wet, muddied clothes clung to your body and there was an obvious trail coming from the door to the couch.
Everything was numb.
Your fingertips, your toes, your mind.
The sound of the door opening paused your inner monologue.
"Man, that rain is no joke today! I'm soaked!" Hawks' voice came from the front door, but you didn't bother looking at him.
He strolled over to you after taking his shoes off, but again you paid him no mind. You couldn't bear the sight of him.
He stilled for a moment, looking you over while a frown overtook his features, "(Y/N), my sweet little sister, did you go outside?" His voice was so soft yet unbearably sarcastic. He knew the answer.
He hummed unhappily when he received no reply, "You're gonna get sick if you sit in those wet clothes any longer. I'll go draw you a bat-"
"Yeah, I hope I get so sick that I die." You spat. But even that held no real emotion behind it. You couldn't even bring yourself to be angry at him.
You'd been angry at first.
You'd spent so long trying to figure out an escape plan, only to find the door unlocked when you didn't find a key. Then you anxiously ran out into the rain, screaming for help and looking for any other houses or even streets.
For miles, you ran.
For miles, you hoped and prayed that today was the day you'd be free again.
But as if your prayers were nothing but a joke, you found a tall wall at the end of your journey and it suddenly made sense why the door was left unlocked.
The image of Keigo laughing at you was the first thing that flashed in your mind and you felt something snap in your psyche.
You grabbed at the muddied ground, throwing clumps of mud and grass into the wall as if it were mocking you. Curses of Keigo's name left your mouth with fiery breaths and when the clumps of mud weren't enough, you hit and clawed at the walls.
It hadn't mattered that your fingers were bleeding or that a few nails were gone.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing mattered except for Keigo.
"Okay, grumpy, you still have to take a bath."
You clenched your fists and took a deep breath, "Why didn't you tell me about the wall?"
Keigo stopped, turning back towards you. He had a cocky glint in his eyes, "Did you really think I was gonna let you go that easily? Or that someone wouldn’t find you and return you?”
"Why..." You trailed off, "Why did you let me think that I had a chance? I... I ran for miles... thinking I was free..."
A sound of pity left Keigo and you wished you could slap him, "(Y/N), you're a smart kid. I'm your older, smarter brother." You wanted to scoff at his ego, "Why wouldn't I or the Heroes' Commission plan ahead?"
Why wouldn't they plan ahead?
You felt so stupid.
Of course everything had been planned.
Your prior kidnapping from your home.
Your shipment to Japan.
And your 'rescue' accomplished by Hawks himself.
It was so obvious now that all of that had been an orchestrated to get you into Keigo's possession.
You were a business plan.
Something to keep Keigo occupied from losing his sanity.
"Y-... You're all sick... you're all fucking sick!" Your chest hurt and you clawed at your heart with mangled fingers.
"(Y/N), focus on your breathing for me." Keigo told you, ignoring your spiraling. When you couldn't calm down, he stalked towards you, "(Y/N), I said focus! Slow your breathing."
Violent sobs tore your throat.
Everything had been taken from you just so you could play house with some hero.
Keigo cooed softly and closed the gap between you to hold you close and slide you down to the floor, telling you to slow your breathing.
He uttered praises to you when you finally listened and slowly but surely, your breathing was dissolved into quiet sobs and sniffles.
He stroked the top of your head before grabbing one of your hands to look at your fingers. He gave a small sigh when noticed how bloodied and swollen they were. They were probably riddled with fractures and would surely bruise.
“Maybe,” he spoke, “If you’d let go…this whole thing would be easier.”
“I… I’m gonna go take a bath now…” Your voice was hoarse, grated raw from your sobs and you stood on wobbly legs to make your way to the bathroom.
Keigo only smiled reassuringly and before you closed the door, he spoke one more time, “I love you so much, (Y/N). Please don’t forget that.”
But how could you?
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere scenario#yandere x y/n#platonic yandere#yandere blog#yandere anime#yandere bnha#bnha#tw manipulation#kidnap tw#tw kidnap mention#tw crying#tw blo0d#tw self destructive behavior#tw self h4rm#yandere hawks#mha takami keigo#mha hawks#keigo takami#yandere keigo takami#yandere keigo x reader
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Ok, so I've spent the past year playing too much baldur's gate 3 (happy 1rst anniversary), and I've also started rewatching Castlevania, and I *have* to ask, how do you think the trio (Sypha, Adrian and Trevor) would react to someone with access to actual divine power (cleric or paladin) of a god that's much more present and benevolent than the one they've known?
(Sorry if you've gotten this kind of ask before, I haven't visited your blog in ages)
Happy bday BG3!! Im still there and never left (until DA Veilguard comes along 👀🫨, where you at?)
But all that aside, welcome to my blog fellow CV fan, and thank you so much for your request 😄
Masterlist 11
Trevor
Is half amazed at your display of power in smiting demons, but also half-serious in how you can try and use your powers so that no vampire guts get on his tunic
He’s the farthest from a praying man but he’ll seek help from your power once he realizes he cares for/loves you
Sypha
You two together make the deadliest duo when it comes to fighting
Knowledge wise, you’re also strongly compatible together given Sypha’s travels and however long you’ve been alive. Swapping stories about each other is the surest way to bond and she’s glad her ramblings are met with an eagerness that matches her own.
Alucard
I feel like initially he’ll have some embittered feelings, such as why couldn’t you help earlier against the armies or the most pressing matter of rescuing Lisa
Anything after that, his icy demeanor does start to thaw out as he sees how well Trevor and Sypha get along with you. And when the realization dawns that you and him have much more time together than the others, he seeks out your company all the time.
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Ride Of Your Life
Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: douchey ex, minor angst
Summary: After an aggressive confrontation with your ex, Bucky comes to your rescue. He takes you on the ride of your life, unknowingly giving his heart to you as much as you give yours to him.
Squares Filled: vigilante (2020) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
x
Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time you’ll be able to have a civilized conversation with your ex. He has been holding your shit hostage and refuses to give it back until you two sit down and have a conversation about your relationship. He was a shitty boyfriend and crazily jealous which is one of the many reasons why you broke up with him, so you’re hoping that by meeting up in public, he’d be reasonable and give you your shit back.
You look around the parking lot of the park you’re in and notice a group of guys on the other side talking and laughing with each other. Bucky hasn’t seen his friends for weeks since they kept putting off hanging out. They all live in different areas of the state so they make sure to meet up once a week and play catch up.
Bucky leans on his bike and crosses his arms as his friend talks about how great his wife is. Bucky is happy for his friends and their mushy relationships but he’s sick and tired of hearing how in love they all are. Bucky hasn’t had a steady girlfriend since he got out of college and Steve moved out to be with his girlfriend, Natasha. Maybe he’s not putting in enough effort or maybe they’re not, but his relationships never seem to work out. There’s no spark and all he wants is to find that spark with someone.
“Buck, you got the cabin for this weekend?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, all ready to go.”
“I’m so excited to get away from this all and leave everything behind for the weekend. If we’re lucky, I might be able to get my hands on some weed.”
Bucky chuckles at Sam’s comment. Ever since he tried it a few months ago, it’s all he can talk about. If that’s how he wants to unwind, then by all means. Bucky never found the appeal in smoking. If he needs to unwind, he usually likes to ride around town on the back roads for hours. There’s nothing like the thrill of the bike on an empty road. He tends to go faster than he should but he always makes it home, and he prays every day that he always makes it home.
Bucky scans the park and notices a family of four playing with their dog, a mother and her two children on the swings, and a beautiful young woman standing on the sidewalk like she’s waiting for someone. He does a double take, enthralled by her beauty. He’s met a lot of women in his day but he’s never seen someone with such raw beauty before. Why is she standing there alone? Who is she waiting for? Boyfriend? Husband? If she’s waiting for a ride, where is she going? Home to someone or to no one?
“What do you think, Buck?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you want to do,” he mutters having heard none of what Steve said.
The woman looks at her watch and then around anxiously. So, she’s waiting for someone. Husband? Boyfriend? Ex? By the look on her face, she’s not excited to meet this person. Ex, Bucky decides. She clenches her hands into fists by her side. Something isn’t right. Suddenly, the loud roar of a black Camaro comes speeding into the parking lot and stops right next to the woman.
“About time you showed,” you complain.
“Calm down. I’m here now.” Peter, your ex, gets out and walks over to you. “Come to your senses and want me back?”
“No, I want my shit back. Seriously, when can I come over and get it?”
“Never.”
“Peter.”
“We’re not done. You’re just overreacting. When you’re done having a tantrum, call me and we can talk about you moving back in.”
“We’re not getting back together. I made myself perfectly clear when I broke up with you. We’re toxic and I refuse to lessen myself for you.”
Peter looks around with a smirk and leans against his precious Camaro that he’d never let you drive.
“Where are you gonna go? Your parents are living two states away and you have no friends. You gonna live alone? You can barely eat alone much less live by yourself.”
Heat flourishes on your cheeks as anger bubbles in your chest. He has no right to talk to you this way. You hate the fact that you don’t have friends. All of your friends are his, and guess who took his side in the breakup? You might have put up with his bullshit in the past but you’re done now. You didn’t call him out here to fight with him.
“Yeah, I don’t have friends. You made sure of it. Don’t worry about me. That‘s not your job anymore.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’s job is it now?”
You open your mouth to say, “me” but what comes out is something entirely different.
“My new boyfriend.”
Peter doesn’t like that. He stands to his full height and stalks to you with a scowl on his face.
“What did you just say?” You open and close your mouth like a fish, unable to form a response. “Who’s going to want to put up with you? I’m sorry sweetheart, but I’m just trying to help.”
“Try less,” you glare.
“Come on, let’s go home. We’ll talk there.”
“No, I‘m not going anywhere with you.”
“Get in the car, Y/N.”
At this point, Peter is screaming at you which you don’t like since there are other people around. Unfortunately for your ex, Bucky and his friends heard everything. They get on their bikes and ride over to where you and Peter are, and you look at them in shock. Bucky is the first off his bike and places himself between you and Peter. Bucky has at least seven inches on Peter but Peter has more muscles than he does. However, there are more of them than Peter and he realizes that.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asks you without taking his eyes of Peter.
“Yeah, because he was just leaving, weren't you, Peter?”
“Not without you.”
“I don’t think you heard her, man. She said you were leaving so leave,” Bucky glares.
“Screw this. When you come to your senses, call me.”
Peter angrily gets back into his car before peeling out of the parking lot so fast that he leaves behind rubber marks on the road. Bucky relaxes once he’s gone and turns to you with soft eyes.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, that was my ex. He has my shit and won’t give it back to me. I’m this close to calling the police and forcing him to give it back. I thought we could be friendly and talk like adults. I guess not. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem,” Bucky says and licks his lips.
That simple act shouldn’t have given you butterflies but it did. You’re not going to lie, Bucky is attractive in a way that makes your panties wet with a single look. Should you really get involved with a man you just met? Someone that attractive is dangerous but you’ve always loved a bit of thrill in your life. Still, you back up from the group and nod in appreciation.
“Thanks, again, but I have a dinner date with my brother and sister.”
“Sure.”
Bucky and his friends turn away but one look at your phone tells you that calling a ride isn’t going to be as simple as it should be. Your phone is dead which means you can’t call an Uber to take you to the restaurant. You’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle but there’s a first time for everything, right?
“Hey, wait,” you call out.
Bucky turns to you and his friends walk off to the side to give you two some privacy.
“My name is Bucky,” he chuckles.
“Bucky, I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t my last resort but my phone died which means I can’t call an Uber to the restaurant. Can I use your phone?”
“Yeah.” Bucky starts to pull his phone from his pocket but pauses. “Or…”
“Or what?”
“I have a second helmet. I can take you where you need to go. Save your money.”
“Seriously? We just met.”
“Your point being?”
You look around and debate whether or not to trust the guy enough to get on the back of his bike. He did just save you from Peter which earns a certain level of appreciation from you.
“Okay, yeah, I could use a ride.”
“Boys, I’ll see you later,” Bucky says to his friends. They all get on their bikes and ride out of the parking lot, leaving you two alone. “Have you ever ridden a bike before?”
“No.”
“Okay, first things first, when I turn, lean with me. It might feel like you’ll fall off but it’s best to do it that way. Secondly, there aren’t any handlebars so you’ll have to wrap your arms around my waist.” You could have sworn you saw the hint of a smirk on his face. “Lastly, tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable. There are mics in the helmets so we can communicate.”
“Lean, squeeze, talk. Got it,” you nod.
Bucky takes the second helmet and slides it over your head. He makes sure it’s on comfortably before tipping your head back and strapping you in securely. He takes his own helmet and slides it on over his head while keeping the visor open.
“Okay, before we get on, you realize that you’re trusting me with your life, right?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
“Okay. Let’s ride.” Bucky gets on first and looks at you. “Grab onto my shoulders and swing your leg over.” You do as you’re told and ignore how defined his muscles feel even under his leather jacket. “You ready?”
“As ready as you.”
Both of you put your visors down before Bucky peels out of the parking lot. He loves driving fast but precious cargo is on board and he doesn’t dare scare you on your first ride. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist, again, ignoring how defined his muscles are. A feeling of complete bliss washes over you as you let the wind hit your skin. This is so much different than you thought it was going to be. It feels so much freer like you can do anything you want to do.
The drive is short since the restaurant isn’t that far away, and you’re sad that the ride is over. Twenty minutes with Bucky has been so much better than the two years you wasted with Peter. When Bucky parks, he’s the first one off so he can help you off it. You grab his hand and swing your leg off the bike. Again, butterflies erupt in your stomach at the simple gesture. You take off your helmet and hand it back to Bucky who takes his own off.
“Thank you for the ride.”
“No problem.”
“God, I’ve never felt like that in my entire life. I never knew riding a bike could feel so… freeing. Like I can do anything right now. I feel alive.”
“Yeah, that feeling never goes away,” Bucky chuckles and leans against his bike.
“I hate to part ways but they’re waiting for me inside. Thank you again.”
Before you can take one step, you’re being pulled into Bucky. He slides his hands into your hair and presses his lips to you. Your brain short-circuits as you try to process what is happening but damn, he has such soft lips. He slips you the tongue which causes you to immediately pull away from him. You didn’t do that because you didn’t like it, only because you’re overwhelmed.
“What was that for?”
“Your ex is in the parking lot watching.” You turn your head to look for Peter but Bucky grabs your chin and keeps your gaze on him. “No, no, eyes on me.”
His eyes are so blue that it’s making your head dizzy. Peter’s Camaro starts and he drives away angrily. When Bucky knows Peter is gone, he leans in and kisses you again, this time more slow and sensual.
“That was because I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you.”
“You think you’re charming, don’t you?” you chuckle and step back from him.
“I’d like to think so.”
“Yeah, well, you are.” He laughs and you melt for his smile. “I gotta go in.”
“This is the part where I ask you for your name and number.”
You stop by the front door and turn to him with a sly smile.
“My name is Y/N.”
“And your number?”
“You found me once, you can find me again.”
With that, you go inside and take Bucky’s heart with you.
x
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Golden Salvation Pt.2
pt. 1 Pt.2
cowboy!Ghost x m! reader
A/N: There will be one more part to this just to wrap everything up :)
Your pulse thundered in your ears as the stranger loomed closer, hand gripping lethal iron at his hip. Fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive - this was no ordinary burglary; you could see it etched in every predatory line of his body.
This man had come for blood, your blood.
Slowly, you raised your hands in a gesture of peace even as your mind raced. One wrong move and you’d be pushing up daisies come morn. These were the dark shadows Simon lived in, the enemies he’d made through his notorious work. And now they were coming for him...through you.
.“Don’t want no trouble, mister,” you said, keeping your tone calm and even like you didn't know why this man was here. As if there could be any other reason for someone to break into a home as dingy as your own. “Just a simple bartender is all – barely got a dollar to my name”
This snake didn't need to know how deep your bond with Simon went, especially since hiding your relationship was the only way you could see to get out of this situation.
The man cackled at your words, rolling his eyes as the smile dropped and he stalked closer to the bed, aiming the gun at you as he cocked it back with a sickening crack.
“ Mhm... as if you weren't all nice and cozied up to him not mere hours ago – ya really think im gonna believe you?” He gave you a mocking grin
“No no im not stupid sweetheart. Im not here to collect any of his debts from you – I care more about the eight men o’ mine your Ghostie killed. Those boys were my family, he didnt think twice about that though when he shot em’ dead where they stood. Figure I should make him feel the same hurt I do, hm?”
“You won’t hurt him none-” You tried to reason “His heart don't belong to me, he won’t spare a second glance past this cabin. Hell, He's probably halfway across the desert by now” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, lies seeping through your lips at the risk of your life. You knew what you meant to Simon, no one else was able to get into his space as you did- at least not if they wanted to walk away with their life.
The man's smirk dropped, new anger burning in his eyes as the grip on his gun tightened, “I saw the way that mongrel looked at you, you’re his boy and that's clearer than any mountain river” he scoffed, finger moving from the side of the gun to rest on the trigger.
You closed your eyes, praying in your head, but not to any god. No, your prayers were aiming for Simon's rescue, praying that he would somehow know you were in trouble and come rescue you from it.
Simon sat astride his horse on a dusty ridge, watching the moon rise silver over the desert wastes. A half-smoked cigarette dangled idly from his lips; he’d been nursing the same thoughts over and over since dusk fell heavy as a shroud across the badlands.
Thoughts of you.
Somewhere deep in his gut, an uneasy feeling roiled. Like an invisible string tugging at his soul, trying to tug him back the way he came. Simon growled low in his throat, frustrated with his own foolish longings. You’d made your stance clear – this life wasn’t for you, not truly. And he had no right to ask you to join him.
And yet...
A crack suddenly split the still night air. So faint and far that any lesser man may have missed it entirely, but not Simon.
In an instant he was vaulting onto his horse’s back, boots pounding twin paths in the dirt as they flew towards the distant lights of your little town. Another shot rang out, louder now, and Simon’s blood turned to ice in his veins.
He knew that sound – deep in his bones he knew something was horribly wrong.
Choking the reins in a near stranglehold, Simon rode as if all the demons of hell were nipping at his horse’s hooves. Towards you. Towards salvation or damnation, he did not know. But by God, no son of a bitch was gonna harm one hair on your head if he could still help it.
Help was coming- you just had to hold on.
The man fired the gun, a sharp sting hitting your side before it blossomed into agonizing pain. You let out a pained cry, one hand instinctively going to land on your wound while the other covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. Your hand was soon coated in dark crimson, entire body shaking with adrenaline as the man cocked the gun once more.
“Was gonna just end you, but I figured I should make this painful the same way he did. Should fill you with so many bullets he won’t be able to recognize you” he hissed, aiming the gun at your other side.
Simon was little more than a blur of dust and primal fury as he crashed through the remains of your splintered front door. For a split second, time seemed to freeze – taking in the scene with a single, piercing gaze.
You,curled onto the bed clutching a bloody wound. And him. That snake. Gun pressed sickeningly against your body as he spewed his venomous threats. With an almost guttural roar, Simon’s Colt leapt into his hand like it was part of his very being. Two blooming shots rang as one; his aim was true as bible scripture.
The intruder pitched backwards, scarlets blossoms exploding from where his eyes once were. He was dead before he hit the floor.
But Simon saw none of it. Already he was at your side, tatty serape ripped and pressed desperately against your weeping injury. Brown eyes wild and scared met your own, and for a moment the steely outlaw facade slipped entirely.
“Darlin’...” he choked, voice thick. “Talk to me, baby. Stay with me now, ya hear?” Working frantically to stem the flood, Simon tangled scarred fingers gently through your hair, anchoring you to this world with his touch alone.
“That’s it…keep breathin’, just keep breathin’” His voice dissolved into ragged prayers mere ghosts could hear. Help was still minutes away - but for now, you had Ghost. And he’d be damned before he let the reaper take you from him.
You were sobbing, your brain mangled with confusion and fear as the adrenaline ran out and the full pain of the bullet lodged in your abdomen had you reeling,
Red painted everything around you, hands, clothes, and sheets underneath you drenched in it.
“Simon-” you rasped, breathing labored as you looked around with wide eyes at the gruesome scene in front of you. It was too much, you could feel your head going light- brain fuzzy and ears ringing as you fought not to close your eyes.
“It hurts” you choked, trying to shove his hand away from where he was pressing down on the wound to stop the torrent of blood flowing out. “Simon I cant-” you said, throat raw from the sobs that came out.
You wanted so badly to stay with him, to be able to wake up tomorrow with him, but you didn’t know if you’d get that with the way you felt your strength leave your body.
“It hurts- it hurts” You were almost begging, for what you didn’t know. You just wanted the pain to go away.
You were terrified- not ready to die yet, and especially not like this, not when you had so much left to do. The thought alone sent a new set of tears streaming down your face, hand shaking- clutching the bleeding wound on top of Simon’s own to try and ebb the pain that burrowed deep in your skin.
Simon felt his world crumbling as your agonized crimes tore through him, sharper than any bullet ever could. Seeing you in such anguish ripped open a fissure in his battered heart, letting the demons of his deepest guilt and self-loathing spill forth in a torrent.
“I know, baby, I know it hurts…” he choked, pressing you close as if trying in vain to absorb your pain into himself. His own broad shoulders shook with ghosts of rage and grief, tears cutting rivulets through the dirt caked on his cheeks.
Goddamn it all, he should’ve been here. Should have followed his instincts and never left your side. Now it may be too late to hope for forgiveness, your blood staining his hands a brand of failure he could never outrun.
“Please, darlin’, please hold on…’ Simon begged, voice breaking as he spoke. His bandana was wrung out and useless now - in desperation he moved to cradle you fully, applying trembling pressure with his bare hands and what remained of his coat.
Distantly he heard the clatter of the approaching horses, but paid them no heed. You were fading, slipping away before his eyes, and all the strength and guns in the world couldn’t stop it.
“Don’t ye leave me now…I can’t do this world without ya…” A broken whisper, barely audible above the thunder in his ears. Simon pressed his forehead to yours, sharing the same ragged breaths, two souls more tangled than any root or vine. Hanging on a blade’s edge against the dark.
You stared up into Simon's eyes, eyebrows cinched in pain and eyes soaked with fear.
“I don’t wanna die, Simon” you whispered, voice shaky as you clung to him - like he alone could save you from this fate.
You could feel your heartbeat slowing, breathing ragged as you gasped for air that just wouldn’t enter your lungs….
Soon enough the doctor burst into the room, medical kit in hand as he came barreling over to you. He very carefully took you out of Simon’s arm with some convincing, to lay you back on the bed before he opened up his kit.
He handed you a flask filled with whiskey “You’re gonna want to drink this - it’ll help ease the pain” He said.
With shaky hands you drank the bottle, a scream ripping from your lungs as the man began to carefully dig into the wound, grabbing hold of the bullet with sterile tweezers before carefully pulling it free.
With practiced care he cleaned the wound, a harsh whimper leaving your lips at the sting of pain before the wound was stitched up and bandaged.
You were shaking, sobbing so hard your throat was raw and your lungs burned - the pain was unbearable and a large part of you wished you could just die to get away from it.
The doctor had you drink another flask, the alcohol numbing the pain receptors in your brain just enough to allow you to fall into a light sleep.
Simon sat vigil at your bedside through what felt like hours, not letting go of your limp hand once. Your cries of pain echoing loud and endlessly in his mind, driving spikes of pure anguish deep into his soul.
He watched in heavy silence as the doctor worked, breath caught tight in his chest, hardly daring to hope. But then - your ragged breaths evened out, color returning sluggishly to waxen cheeks. Alive. You were alive.
It was nearly two hours later when the man was done, wiping his hands on a rag as he stood up on shaky legs.
“He’s stable” The doctor said simply
Choking back sobs of relief, Simon buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of gratitude-laced kisses amongst salty tears. “That’s it, darlin’...you fight. Got too much left to do in this world.” he’d whisper to you, voice so soft only you could hear
“Most important thing now is cleaning that wound twice a day lest it get infected. If it does…” The doctor ordered, his words trialing off though his intentions were clear. He put down a set of bandages and cleaning solution on the nightstand for Simon’s use.
“It’ll take a long time to heal, I reckon” The doctor said “but my work is done here, y’all know where to reach me should he take a turn for the worst” He said, tilting his hat to Simon before he gathered his tools and headed out of the shabby cabin.
Simon took the doctor's words as gospel, nodding along to every word before the man left. He spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess that was now your little home. He dragged the body out back to deal with fully in the morning, cleaned your sheets and changed you into new clothes, boarded up the broken window, and finished by fixing the door that he had come barging through.
His own hands were gentle as churches doing their appointed duty, cleansing and dressing the angry wound each time without fail. Whatever it took to coax your stubborn spirit back to the land of the living.
Days bled into each other without notice. All that mattered to him now was you. And slowly, so slowly - full color seeped back, fever broke its hold. Eyes fluttered open to meet his own once more, full of pain but oh-so-blessedly alive.
“Hey there, sunshine…” Simon whispered hoarsely, like a parched man dying of thirst at an oasis. Finally, finally, he allowed himself the ghost of a weary smile.
You were going to be alright. And by God, he’d spend his last days making sure of it.
You slowly sat up, a soft whine leaving your lips with the movements as you aggravated the still raw wound. “Simon” you mumbled as you held his hand, reaching over to take a swig of the whiskey on the nightstand to ease the searing pain.
You rested your head back against the pillows with a soft sigh. It had been a few days now, and the pain was still a dull yet constant ache in your side.
You took the sight around you in, everything was clean and neat including your bedding and clothes. Even the floor had been mopped, the only reminders of your near death being the hole in your side.
“Simon you did all this?” You asked simply, eyes wide as you gazed up at him.
Simon huffed a soft, weary laugh at your question, gently squeezing your hand just to make sure you were really here and he wasn’t hallucinating.
“Course I did, darlin’. Weren’t about to let ya recover in filth,” He replied gruffly. Truth be told, tending to your every need had been the other thing keeping his demons at bay these long days and nights.
Keeping busy spared him time to think - and thinking led down paths too bleak to tread. Like how terrifyingly close he’d come to losing you forever.
Holding your gaze with quiet intent, Simon softly brushed calloused knuckles along your cheek “Reckon it’s about time i started pullin’ my weight ‘round here proper. Ain’t no safe place for ya out here alone” A question lingered in the subtle quirk of his brow, the hopeful yet wary gleam in tired eyes. After all that had passed between you both, was there still room for him at your side? A Ghost finally ready to lay his soul to rest, if you’d have him.
You could only hum softly at his words, sleep still filled in your bones. You didn’t answer him, instead you patted the empty side of the bed “Come sleep next to me, Si. You need the sleep” You said, your words a silent confirmation that you still wanted him.
Simon gave a soft grunt of approval, too weary in body and soul to do anything but obey your gentle prompting. Careful not to jostle your healing injury, he stretched his long limbs out beside you with a satisfied sigh.
It felt strange but right, sharing your space in such an intimate way after so long living apart. Like the final piece of a puzzle slipped neatly into place.
Turning his head, Simon watched you watch him through half-lidded eyes, drinking in every beloved feature as if to confirm this wasn’t some whiskey-fueled dream. Reaching out, he lightly touched the graceful curve of your cheek before letting his hand come to rest against the steady rise and fall of your chest.
“Sweetest sound there is,” he murmured, voice sleep-roughed and thick with meaning. A tousled head tucked itself beneath your chin with a contented sigh, tension seeping from tense muscles.
Come what may with the light of dawn, for now all was peaceful. You were alive, you were safe. And against all odds, Simon had finally come home to roost.
You held him close in your arms, gentle fingers carding through thick hair as you let his head rest against your now steady heartbeat. He needed the comfort, you could tell, and you were more than happy to give it to him.
“Rest now, Si. I'm not going anywhere. Can’t get rid of me that easy” You assured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
It was a funny thing, holding such a toughened man in your arms, keeping him close and coddled despite the almost laughable size difference.
SImon made a low sound of gratitude at your soft reassurance, melting bonelessly into your gentle embrace. Your gentle fingers winding through his hair brought forth a wave of lethargy he’d fought to stave off this long week past. But no more - here in your arms, he was finally allowed to let his guard down.
It still struck him sometimes how two souls so disparate could fit together so seamlessly. But you’d always had a way of easing even his most ragged edges, soothing demons he thought long beyond taming. Lithe as you were in your current state, your strength ran deeper than any show of force ever could - and he found solace there like nowhere else.
“Missed this…” he mumbled, so soft it was barely audible even in the stillness enclosing your little world. One arm curled protectively around your middle, thumb brushing idle patterns against the slowly healing wound beneath the bandages.
A prayer of thanks on parched lips, Simon let weary eyes slide shut. Sleep rose like a gentle tide, carrying him off to oblivion sheltered in the piece of heaven he’d begun to call home. You’d brought him back from the brink of darkness once more, anchor in the storm. And for that, he was eternally grateful.
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