#yup. still got it. for some reason.

[sergle]

i'm very into Dog Breed Stats and i think everyone should look up the stats on the breeds they like on the AKC website whenever possible.... for fun. also: it's this specific stat that really was the final thing to tip the scale, when I decided to search for a golden retriever instead of a pomeranian.

pom:

golden:

[gojonanami]

“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.

warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man

w/c: 1,184

“I’m home!”

You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.

Now where was your home?

“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.

You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.

You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.

But even so, you know he needed more.

As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“

“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”

He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.

“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”

He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.

“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.

“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.

“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”

But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“

“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“

“But—“

“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.

“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.

“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”

“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.

“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.

He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”

“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.

“Promise.”

Bonus:

Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”

“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.

“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”

“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.

“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.

“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.

“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.

If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.

Your husband.

“Let’s see, hm?”

a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.

taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

[libbyfandom]

Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))

(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))

You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”

Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.

You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.

You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.

“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.

“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”

You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.

Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.

Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.

She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.

You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”

Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”

But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.

“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”

Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”

You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”

Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”

You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”

Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”

“He’s gross.”

She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.

“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.

You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.

She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.

“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.

She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.

The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.

She mumbles something.

“Mizu-“

“I wanna do that.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”

“I want to cum inside you.”

The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.

Holy shit.

Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.

And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.

Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“

Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.

“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“

Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.

“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”

Holy shIT-

“Mizu-MIZU-!”

Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.

And very, VERY drunk.

She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”

You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.

But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.

Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”

Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.

Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”

Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.

“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.

Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.

“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.

Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.

Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.

You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.

She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-

“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“

You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.

SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.

You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.

“Baby.”

Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.

“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.

Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.

And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Please?”

She’s pleading.

What the fuck was in her whiskey?!

“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”

With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.

You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.

"Say yes..."

Click!

You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.

She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.

Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“….Wait…?”

“RINGO HELP!”

In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.

“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”

You nod, “That sounds good."

You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”

She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”

Several loud crashes in the kitchen.

[v5hadow]

Persona 5 (Royal?) Spoiler-ish things? I mean I'm super, weirdly vague but I guess?

Goddamn is akechi *terrible* at fighting my protag. Heals me regularly or hits blocks because dummy will spam the single targets once in a while when I've been using the same persona the entire fight. Like if he picked the opposite one at least he'd do damage but the first time I had one that drained the attack and the second with blocks.

I want to bang my head against a wall on how much of an idiot this dude is for story things as well (and kinda sort for our party in relation to him). I still do not get all the hype for him. Ah well, once and a while I've got to be confused about the appeal of a character for reason other than being ace as heck.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you. 

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough. 

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse. 

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that. 

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you. 

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him. 

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet. 

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now. 

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now. 

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in. 

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place. 

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous. 

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast. 

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing. 

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen. 

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues. 

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her. 

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps. 

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around. 

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal. 

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now. 

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye. 

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook. 

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing. 

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy. 

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does. 

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule. 

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it. 

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet. 

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning. 

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond. 

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that. 

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from. 

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time. 

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person. 

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you. 

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance. 

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says. 

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic. 

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues. 

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him. 

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started. 

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now. 

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know. 

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster. 

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed. 

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable. 

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down. 

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar. 

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it. 

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this. 

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little. 

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern -  should not happen again. 

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed. 

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you. 

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you. 

“You may leave,” he instructs. 

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask. 

You’d never cared before, why the change now? 

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you. 

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this. 

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps. 

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask. 

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems. 

“I’m fine,” he shrugs. 

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now. 

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything. 

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is. 

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual. 

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in. 

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents. 

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement. 

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do. 

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in. 

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name. 

“Okay,” you say softly. 

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while. 

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated. 

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous. 

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little. 

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling. 

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place. 

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too. 

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug. 

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that. 

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be. 

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again. 

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece. 

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are. 

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak. 

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time. 

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips. 

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too. 

“Uh, yes,” you say. 

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down. 

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam. 

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture. 

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle. 

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself. 

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it. 

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off. 

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for. 

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung. 

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says. 

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again. 

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear. 

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke. 

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks. 

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around. 

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days. 

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs. 

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done. 

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly. 

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do. 

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself. 

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment. 

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day. 

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out. 

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night. 

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them. 

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked. 

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can. 

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you. 

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist. 

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.  

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle. 

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says. 

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter. 

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good. 

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him. 

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes. 

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he. 

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit. 

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time. 

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…” 

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about. 

“Like them.” 

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair. 

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients. 

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side. 

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now. 

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table. 

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why. 

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. 

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time. 

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there. 

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal. 

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at. 

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace. 

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after. 

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though. 

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk. 

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way. 

“Your girl?” He scoffs. 

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you. 

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you. 

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts. 

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top. 

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead. 

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing. 

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes. 

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably. 

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…” 

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins. 

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–” 

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body. 

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs. 

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom. 

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting. 

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be. 

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot. 

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds. 

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters. 

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave. 

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.  

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you. 

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you. 

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter. 

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away. 

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him. 

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri. 

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously. 

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience. 

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily. 

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do. 

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you. 

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car. 

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything. 

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat​ @fan-ati--c  @cravingforhotchocolate​ @adoraminie​ @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshine​ @kookxin​ @petuliii @yoursthv​ @libra04​ @fancycollectormoon​ @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker @stopeatread

Series Taglist: @xhazmania @ash07128 @rinkud @junniesoleilkth @junecat18 @peachytokki @baechugff @coralmusicblaze @jalexad @pamzn @hoseoksluv89 @familiarlikemymirror3 @kookies-n-spice @hyuneyeon @thisartemisnevermisses @jk97bam @nadzzzblog @xyarinx @megnugget98 @shameless-army @jkslvsnella @lvr2seok @nayashalouiseburrows @peterstarkchrishiddleston

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Finale- KNJ

Summary: A couple months ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.

Paring: Namjoon/Reader (all members are mentioned)

Rating: M/18+

Word Count: 8k (oops)

Tags: angst, smut, wet dreams, clumsy joon, angry joon, swearing, callbacks to previous chapters, lore, slight twist, maknae scheming, backstory, heavy makeouts, spanking, eating pussy, dick sucking, dirty talk, pet names penetrative sex (use protection) cute ending, fluffy ending

Authors Note: I have been teasing that I saved Namjoon for last for...reasons. This fic is why hehehe

*Seriously thank you all so much for reading this series every like/reblog/comment means the world! I appreciate every single one of you

In case you missed it

Intro Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part7

Namjoon woke up with a start. His heart was racing anxiously in his chest and there was a pounding in his head. Or was that someone at the door? And why was he so warm, and why did everything feel so wet and…sticky?

Namjoon closed his eyes tighter, trying to fight against the urge he had to wake up fully, he was in the middle of a dream, a perfect, very hot, dream. And currently in said dream his cock was buried in a stranger he had seen at a club once upon a time. She was teasing him all night, hiking up her skirt and winking at him.

As hard as Namjoon tried to stay put, to let his mind slip back into a state of dreaming the pounding noise was getting louder and soon enough he cracked open his eyes to be met with his keyboard.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, the dream lingering as he stretched his arms over his head and grumbled. It was not like him to fall asleep at his desk, usually, he would take the couch or something more comfortable. He honestly didn’t even remember falling asleep.

And what the heck was with all that noise?

Namjoon turned in his chair to face the door as his brain tried to wake up fully and he realized someone was knocking on the door.

Quite forcefully.

Right as Namjoon was about to stand up he felt it. The heat prickling on his skin, the way his arms broke out into goosebumps, and the shiver he felt when he shifted in his chair and his now soft wet cock rubbed against his skin.

He looked down and saw a wet spot on the front of his pants and groaned, running a hand through his messed-up hair.

A wet dream

Again

Fuck this was the last thing he needed right now.

“Namjoon!” Jungkook called from behind the door and Namjoon flew into panic mode. He ripped off his pants and boxers and cleaned himself up the best he could. He then threw them under his desk. He always kept extra clothes in his studio in case he had decided to stay the night and he quickly threw on a pair of old sweatpants and called out to Jungkook to wait a minute.

His heart was racing and the dream was so fresh in his mind he swore he was in two places at once, in the dream where the girl was sinking down on his cock and standing here in his studio cumming in his pants like a teenage boy.

Once he felt he looked presentable he opened the door to see Jungkook standing there dressed in his usual all-black looking nervous.

“Yoongi sent me to check on you are you okay?” He asked as Namjoon fought to hide his flustered appearance and the fact he still felt on edge after that dream.

“Yes, I’m fine. Why?” Namjoon asked placing a hand over his chest to try and calm his frantically beating heart.

“Uh well, we have that meeting. You never showed, so I said I’d come get you. Figured you got lost in your music again.” Jungkook explains with a worried look.

Namjoon feels his heart drop as he checks his watch.

Yup, he was ten minutes late.

Well fuck.

“Sorry Kookie I was working on music then fell asleep. Let’s go.” He replies closing the door to his studio and following Jungkook down the hall.

The day didn’t get better.

In fact, the whole week seemed to keep getting worse for Namjoon.

It was now or never as the tour was only a week away and while all the other members seemed to be thriving Namjoon was struggling.

He was their leader and they had to look to him for support so he tried to stay strong for them and mask how he was really feeling.

This masking was causing more harm than good and he could tell the members were getting frustrated with him.

He was usually clumsy, but that seemed to double in the last week. He could hardly hold a bottle of water without dropping the whole thing. He also found he was very short-tempered and often would lose patience with the younger ones when they goof off.

The worst was when anyone would mention Y/N. Just the name coming up would have Namjoon sending death glares and sometimes even the silent treatment.

The boys were walking on eggshells and Namjoon was a second away from losing his sanity.

And the wet dreams?

Well, those seemed to happen more frequently for Namjoon, and while he knew what the fix was he didn’t have time to take care of it. There was hardly any time in the day to do anything and the thought of jerking off was the furthest thing from his mind as he pushed through every day and let his body take care of it at night.

It was always the same dream and he just started to ignore it.

It would go away once they were on tour. Everything would be fixed once they were on tour

Right?

Five days before the tour, everything came crashing down.

Dance practice was brutal and the meetings and final planning for the tour were even worse.

Once the meetings of the day were over the plan sprung into action.

Yoongi and Jin grabbed Namjoon by the arms and held them back, then dragged him into an empty dance studio despite his yells to let him go.

The others were waiting with grim looks on their faces.

“What the hell is this? Get off me! Guys this isn’t funny!” Namjoon protested as his voice echoed throughout the empty room.

Namjoon spotted Jimin running to the door to lock it as Jin and Yoongi forced Namjoon to the floor and they all sat around him.

“Ha. Ha, You guys are funny now let me go!” Namjoon bellows as the other boys look at Yoongi nervously.

“No Namjoon absolutely not. Not until you tell us what the fuck is going on.” He says shooting Namjoon an intense gaze.

“We know you are stressed. We get the stress of being a leader and we wanted to give you space to figure it out but damn is it hard to work with you right now. So we are having a little chat. What is going on and how can we help.” Hobi explains patting Namjoon’s thigh and shooting him a smile.

Which has Namjoon forcefully scooting away and crossing his arms over his chest in a pout.

“Nothing. I am fine.” Namjoon spits out as he eyes all the members.

Jin with a cross-expression

Yoongi cocking an eyebrow as if he doesn’t believe him

Hobi who looks hurt

Jimin who is picking at his fingernails and looking nervous

Taehyung who looks in anguish over the whole thing

And Jungkook, with his big brown eyes he stares at Namjoon with so much worry and fear it makes Namjoon feel guilty.

“You aren’t a good liar Namjoon. You are stressed out and stressing us out. You are shaky and nervous and honestly being kind of an asshole right now. Yelling at Tae during our last three dance practices because he was trying to make us all smile. Showing up late for meetings. Spilling and dropping….everything. We want to help. But we can’t help if you don’t tell us what the hell is going on.” Jin speaks up.

“It’s just…stress.” Namjoon almost whispers hanging his head.

“Okay we get that we are all stressed but you are bubbling over like a volcano. What is going on? Honestly?” Hobi says as they all stare at him.

It’s too much

It’s all too much

Too many eyes on him, too many accusing stares.

Namjoon feels his body heat up and his usual calm and level-headed demeanor snaps.

“Do you really think I need this right now? Do you think wasting my time with an intervention is going to help?” He snaps staring them all down and clenching his jaw.

“Yes, I got mad at Tae because he was wasting time. Do you know how much goes into a tour? Do you know how much I have to do as your leader to get ready for this tour? Goofing off makes my job, and everyone else’s job harder Taehyung. And sitting here and pointing out all my flaws is not going to make me feel better.” Namjoon bellows standing up in frustration.

His heart is racing and his clothing feels too hot, too tight. It’s all too much.

“Joon it’s okay.” Whispers Yoongi standing to join him.

But if Namjoon has something it’s pride and he’s not going to let his band members see how close he was to an absolute breakdown.

“Six against one right? Super fair. Love having you all gang up on me when I do so much for you. I’m going to my studio and changing the password on the door. Don’t follow me. I’m done.” Namjoon announces as he makes his way towards the door.

Yoongi runs to stop him, grabs his arm, and attempts to get him to sit back down, but the look Namjoon gives him is so full of spite that Yoongi shrinks back and lets Namjoon go.

The air is thick with tension and they all stare at each other in shock. As long as they have known Namjoon he has never, ever been like this.

“Should we…. get an exorcist? He is possessed. That’s not our Joon, an evil mad demon possessed him.” Hobi mused which made some of them smile.

“Done as in done with BTS?” Jungkook asks eyes brimming with tears as Jin scoots over to comfort the youngest.

“Nah I think just done with us….for a bit. I’ll talk to him later one one-on-one.” Yoongi mutters scratching his neck

Three days before the tour you opened your door to a surprise. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung were all standing there looking somber.

“Hey! Come on in!” You say gesturing for all of them to enter.

Originally Taehyung texted you and asked if he could come over which you happily accepted so seeing all three of them was quite a shock.

“Thanks Y/N,” Jimin says as he takes his usual spot on the couch sandwiched between Taehyung and Jungkook.

You sat down on the loveseat next to them and wondered what the hell was going on.

“So uh…” You start but Taehyung is quick to interrupt you.

“I want to talk to you about something.” He starts, long fingers ruffling his fluffy brown hair in nervousness.

You swallow thickly.

“Okay, the floor is all yours.” You say crossing your legs.

“Well I know I’ve liked this arrangement we have and I know you do too. It works. And I think it’s good for both of us, And god you are the perfect fuck buddy like I could not have asked for better, honestly.” He starts and you bite back a smile.

“I think we’ve already had this conversation Tae. Remember? And it ended with me…ahem…assisting your friends.” You tease as Taehyung turns the most gorgeous shade of red and Jungkook and Jimin snicker.

“Really? That’s how you asked her. A whole speech?” Jimin teases as Taehyung shoots him a look.

“I didn’t want to offend her.” He shoots back as Jungkook is hiding his giggles behind his hands.

“Ohmygod you sap. You made it sound all romantic as if it wasn’t just going to be good sexy fun.” Jimin cackles which has Taehyung pinching his arm.

“Okay okay. Um, what did you want to ask Tae?” You say trying to steer the conversation back on track.

“You have been wonderful and incredible. We all appreciate you and how you have….helped. I just kind of had one more favor to ask.” He mutters sheepishly and you cock an eyebrow.

“I mean…we didn’t discuss more than one at a time but I guess I’d be down.” You reply easily as Jimin loses it and falls off the couch in laughter.

Taehyung is glaring at Jimin and Jungkook is staring at you with a face of innocence and his eyes blown wide as if a couple of days ago he didn’t make you cum four times.

“Oh my god that is too funny! I like the way she thinks! Why didn’t we think of that!” Jimin cackles which has you shrinking in embarassment and Taehyung grabs his friend by the arm to help him off the floor.

“Kinky,” Jungkook mutters which again has Jimin dissolving into giggles.

“This is why you don’t do long drawn out speeches Tae Ohmygod.” Jimin snorts as he finally rights himself on the couch and you cover your face with your hands completely embarrassed.

“Pretend I didn’t say that. Please pretend that never happened.” You plead as you hide your face and close your eyes.

“Listen, while Taehyung likes his long speeches I’ll rip the bandaid off. We want you to do us a favor and fuck Namjoon” Jimin says bluntly which has your eyes bulging and your mouth dropping open in shock.

“Um. What?” You stammer trying to hide the blush that was creeping up your neck.

“I mean with consent of course! But we need him to chill out and we think you might be our only hope.” Taehyung explains shooting you pleading eyes.

“How? What happened?” You ask nervously as Jungkook fills you in.

“Wow.” You say after the story is done.

“Wow is right. Yoongi went to talk to him after and said it was a disaster. Namjoon changed his lock and is refusing to come out except for mandatory meetings. We don’t have any more dance practices so he is locking himself away. Won’t talk to any of us and won’t answer our calls. I sat outside his door for a whole two hours yesterday peridotically knocking but he never came out.” Jungkook explains looking severely hurt by the whole thing.

You knew how Jungkook talked about Namjoon and how he looked up to him so you knew it must be torture for the poor boy.

“I appreciate you thinking I have this much power but I think I’m the last person he wants to see right now.” You explain uncrossing and recrossing your legs in nervousness.

“Listen we have it all planned out. If he’s locking himself in his studio he’s not eating. We will have you deliver food and hopefully talk to him. And if you guys fuck even better! That boy has been moaning in his sleep for days now.” Jimin explains as Taehyung once again smacks his arm and Jungkook covers his face in embarassment.

“He hasn’t reached out to me though. I have to respect that. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me” You argue feeling your cheeks ablaze at the very prospect of it.

“We aren’t saying you have to have sex with him. Unless you want to,” Jiimin teases raising his eyebrows and winking at you.

“He doesn’t want to see me though. Believe me.” You say anxiously.

“All we are saying is go to the door and deliver him food. Explain who you are. Maybe he would want to talk to you. We have gone through almost everyone we can think of. He is shutting everyone out including his friends outside of BTS. Please Y/N.” Tae says with his signature pout.

“We can’t go on tour like this. The fans mean everything to us and they will notice if something is wrong. Please help us out. And if he slams the door in your face you can come to Jungkook’s studio which is right across the hall and we will bring you home. No harm.” Tae says as Jungkook nods enthusiastically.

“Okay fine.” You sigh out as Jimin and Jungkook cheer and Taehyung gets out of his seat to give you a heated kiss.

“Now let’s raid your closet, Jungkook order the food!” Jimin shouts as he grabs your hand and drags you to your room.

“Wait now?” You exclaim in shock as you hear Taehyung and Jungkook scheming in the living room.

“Yes, beautiful now,” Jimin responds in glee as he throws open your closet.

The ride over to the HYBE building was torture and you couldn’t sit still the entire time. It didn’t help that Jimin thought the perfect outfit would be a mini skirt and a V-neck shirt and you kept anxiously pulling the skirt down to cover more of your exposed legs

You had the food resting on your lap keeping your knees warm and your throat was dry in anxiety.

Once you got to the building and into the elevator your stomach was in knots. Jimin kept cracking jokes to ease your nerves and Jungkook and Tae kept assuring you everything would be fine.

“Why did I agree to this? This was a bad idea.” You whine as the elevator keeps going up and up as you stand on shaky feet.

Because Park Jimin thought the best way to have you deliver food would be in this ridiculous outfit…and four-inch heels.

“Don’t be nervous. If he slams the door in your face you’ll come right across the hall to me. Maybe make sure he at least takes the food though.” Jungkook says cracking a smile as you wobble when the elevator finally stops.

“Wait I can’t. I seriously can’t.” You whimper as the doors open and the boys usher you out to the hallway.

The elevator doors close. And the elevator goes back down to ground level.

You are stuck here now.

“Believe me Namjoon is big and scary to us but he won’t be to you. He’s a little boy trapped inside a big man’s body. He’s harmless, It’s fine.” Jimin soothes as he marches down the hall full of confidence.

“Y/N you got this. You can do this. We care about you and Namjoon and you are doing us a huge favor by helping us out with this.” Taehyung says softly as he grabs your face in his hands and kisses you softly, easing some of your nerves.

“And if it works out maybe we will reward you with that foursome.” He mutters against your lips for only you to hear as you roll your eyes at him and his own eyes sparkle with mischief.

“What if he doesn’t answer the door?” You ask as you stay frozen in the hall still holding the food.

“He will. He thinks we have all gone home for the night because Yoongi sent a message in our group chat saying he was having everyone over for drinks. We all said yes and he Jin, and Hobi are there right now. They said to keep us up to date.” Jungkook replies.

“Yoongi is in on this too?!” You hiss as Taehyung laughs.

“Well, he knew we were up to something and forced it out of us. He was at his wit’s end and figured why the hell not go with our brilliant plan.” Taehyung explains as he grabs your arm and helps you walk over to Namjoon’s door.

Namjoon’s door.

It felt like being the hero in a video game and walking to the final boss.

“Don’t be nervous it’s all good. You got this. We owe you our life.” Tae whispers as Jungkook and Jimin disappear into Jungkooks studio with a wave which leaves you and Tae standing there.

“Why are you making it sound like you're sending me to my death.” You hiss as Taehyung laughs and softly rasps on Namjoon's door.

“Have fun sweetheart.” He teases with a sloppy kiss as he sneaks across the hall and slips into Jungkook’s studio

You wait.

And wait.

And no one answers.

You want to turn away. To go to Jungkook’s studio to flee but you decided to try one more time.

Just as you balance the food and raise your fist to knock the door opens.

You are met with Kim Namjoon who’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

He is wearing a blue cap to hide his hair and his broad frame is covered in a blue shirt. He looked like he had not slept in days but was still beautiful.

“Um Hi.” You choke out staring at him.

“You?” He says softly with his eyes blown open in surprise.

“I brought food.” You stammer holding out the bag for him. You are shaking so bad you are grateful when he takes it off your hands.

“Why are you here.” He snaps as you cower under his gaze.

Even in heels, he is so much taller than you and you seem to shrink under his gaze.

“It was not my idea I just got roped into it.” You say holding up your hands in surrender as Namjoon shakes his head.

“Let me guess. Jimin, Jungkook and Tae?” He asks staring you down as you nod thickly.

“Yeah, they dropped me off here and went to visit Yoongi.” You lie effortlessly as Namjoon holds up the take-out bag to inspect it.

“And they got all my favorites those suck-ups. Well, come in I guess. I’m not punishing you for getting roped into their plan and them abandoning you here. After we eat I’ll bring you home.” He says sounding weary as you follow him into his studio.

You take in the light tones of the walls and his décor as he sets up the small coffee table with the food and gets settled on the couch.

You watch as he takes off his cap to push his hair back from his tired face and you watch in fascination as he meticulously sets everything up.

Once he is seated on the couch he raises an eyebrow at you, a silent invitation and you slowly walk over and sit down heart hammering in your chest and your breathing uneasy.

“It’s okay it’s just me.” He says softly as you nod and take a seat next to him as he hands you chopsticks. You pull down your skirt once again and Namjoon snickers next to you.

You both eat in silence as soft music plays in the background.

“So they roped you into this huh?” He muses breaking the silence as you slurp your noodles and nod.

Namjoon shakes his head with a fond look on his face.

“So you know what has been going on then?” He asks timidly.

“I mean they just said you were stuck in the studio and not eating or talking to anyone. They thought I could help.” You whisper feeling small next to him.

“And let me guess. Jimin dressed you in an outfit that looks super uncomfortable for you. Jungkook used his big brown eyes to persuade you and Taehyung was the ringleader of the whole thing.” Namjoon contemplates as you let out a laugh.

“Wow, you're good.” You say as Namjoon grins and his signature dimple appears on his cheek.

“You can take off your heels you know. They don’t look very comfortable.” He says as you sigh in relief and kick off your shoes.

You both lapse back into silence and finish the food.

The music stops and Namjoon heads to his computer to start another playlist and you can’t help but stare at his strong muscular back as he leans over his desk.

When he turns around you pretend to be staring at the artwork on the walls instead and Namjoon chuckles to himself.

He sits back on the couch, this time closer to you and you blush under his piercing gaze.

“So Taehyung was the mastermind behind this huh? Just like he was the mastermind behind you keeping all of us…sane.” Namjoon quips as you run a hand through your hair and nod.

“Does Taehyung know?” He asks softly as he turns to face you, his knee bumping into yours sending electricity down your legs and to your feet.

“Does Taehyung know what?” You questioned knowing full well what he was hinting at but wanting to hear him say it.

“That night you first met him at the club. That night that you went home with him you were flirting with me all night.” He glowered as you felt your stomach swoop and you broke his gaze staring at the walls.

With one hand under your chin, he brought your gaze back to his and you swallowed hard.

“Nu-uh, eyes on me. Does he know you were hiking up your skirt for me and winking at me for most of the night? Does he know that you were grinding on other men, but you were staring at me the whole time? Does he know how much of a tease you are?” He growls as his knee pushes into your bare one harder and you blush under his heated gaze.

“Does Taehyung know the reason I hate this whole arrangement is because you were supposed to go home with me that night?”

“I-uh.” You mutter unable to form words as Namjoon continues to speak.

“If it wasn’t for Seokjin pointing you out to Tae you would have been with me. Not him. Not all the other members. I don’t share.” He growls

Wanton thoughts were running through your mind as you replayed that night. How he stood out from the crowd because he was so tall, so big, so handsome. How you spotted him right away and thought he was the most attractive man you had ever seen. You remembered the thrill that went down your spine when he finally locked eyes with you over his glass of whiskey.

You remember the carnal desire you had for him to keep his eyes on you. How you hiked up your skirt to show more skin, how you winked and flirted with him across the crowded dance floor. How you danced with other men to tease and taunt him.

See what you could have if you just came over here.

How his jaw clenched every time a man put his hands on you. How you shook your body to the music and threw your head back and laughed when a dance partner whispered something in your ear.

The jokes were no longer funny when you saw his shocked expression when his friend and bandmate Kim Taehyung waltzed over to you and asked very politely for a dance.

How you nodded thickly and backed your ass up until it was flushed with his crotch. How Tae whispered in your ear how he was amazed by your dancing and thought you were beautiful.

You blushed under all his praise and by the time you looked up Namjoon had disappeared from the crowd and Taehyung was asking if he could take you home for the night.

But a one-night stand turned into a many-night-stand

And soon enough Taehyung asked you for a favour. Everyone was so stressed. Everyone was so worried about the tour and he just wanted to help out. He just wanted everyone to be happy again.

And while you agreed Kim Namjoon stayed in the back of your mind.

Would he see you again?

Would he reach out?

You awaited texts that never came. You figured he forgot all about you. That he had moved on. A part of your heart still clung to the hope he would reach out. Even though you went home with Taehyung you never forgot about him.

And it seemed like fate didn’t want you to forget about him.

With this master plan Tae had.

About you showing up all innocent and bringing Namjoon food.

You weren’t just nervous about the plan, you were anxious about seeing him again, having those eyes on you once more that made you shiver in the stuffy heat of the club.

“Does Kim Taehyung know I never forgot about you? That I keep having vivid dreams of a pretty girl hiking up her skirt and flirting with me and making me hard as fuck though at the time I didn’t even know her name?” Namjoon mutters bringing your focus back to him as he licks his lips.

“Joon.” You whine out pressing your legs together as he smirks.

“I selfishly told the boys to stop with you because you could ruin everything. In reality, I wanted you to myself.” He admits as he smiles wickedly at you.

You let out a shaky breath and felt your skin slick with sweat as he stared down at you.

“You never answered my question. Does Taehyung know it was me first?” He growls low as you shiver.

“I never said anything… I figured….you forgot.” You muttered dumbly as his hand came out to trace small patterns on your knee. You kept your gaze downward watching as his hand traced small circles and a wicked smile formed on his face.

“Y/N how could I forget? You had me so fucking hard sitting at the bar I was aching to get my hands on you, to feel you pressed up against my cock. But Taehyung got to you first so I left. I didn’t want to be a part of it. I didn’t want to see it.”

You swallow hard.

“Then months after, when I still hadn’t let you go, Taehyung told us that you were available to help us out if we needed it. And you know what I did?” He spits out as you shake your head.

“I told everyone to stay the fuck away from you. It was probably selfish but I said that you could ruin everything. You were a liability we could not afford to have. Then I went home and jerked off to the thought of you, multiple times.” He admitted.

You felt your arousal pool in your skimpy panties and you pushed your knee harder into his as you stared at him mesmerized.

“You were supposed to be mine that night at the club. Not Taehyung’s and not everyone else’s after. Now get on your hands and knees on this couch and I’m going to spank you and I want you to be as loud as you can. Make Tae Jungkook and Jimin hear it.” He says swatting your lap and standing up off the couch.

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“W-what do you mean they aren’t here they went to Yoongi’s.” You stammer as Namjoon chuckles darkly and once again swats your bare thigh to get you to move.

“This studio may be pretty well soundproofed so you're gonna have to be loud. Come on Y/N I'm not stupid, they are waiting in Jungkook’s studio in case I said no huh? They wouldn’t abandon you in a building you most definitely should not be in. Fucking brat always breaking the rules and now I have to punish you at my workplace. So nasty Y/N.” He growls.

You can’t take it any longer so you stand up and unzip your miniskirt letting it pool at your ankles as you step out of it. Namjoon’s eyes follow your body as you position yourself on the couch and bury your face in one of his decorative pillows.

“This okay?” He mutters as his hand runs softly down your back.

You grin.

“Joonie please spank me.” You plead and he laughs darkly above you

He takes a moment to stare at your underwear which consisted of a black thong that was buried in the back of your drawer that Jimin just had to find. It was super uncomfortable and you begged Jimin to let you wear anything else.

“Did Jimin pick this out too?” He teases as his hands come to massage your ass, kneading the skin and making you push back against him, hungry for more friction.

“Y-Yes.” You cry out when one hand dips lower to run over your folds which had soaked the material of the thong.

“Well, that earns you another spank princess.” He decided as without warning he delivered a sharp spank to your backside.

“I think ten spanks should suffice. One for each member you had sex with, that’s six then one because Jimin picked out your underwear, one for teasing me all night at the club, and two more because I feel like it. Ten in total.” He says as he gives you another harsh swat causing you to whine out and bury your face in the pillow.

“Uh uh didn’t I say be as loud as you like?” He demands as he grabs your hair and softly tilts your head back.

His hand comes down to give you two quick sharp spanks and you whine out his name and clench your legs together as you feel your arousal making your thighs slick.

“God you are dripping. You must really like this huh?” He mutters as his hand traces your folds again and you whine out and push your hips back to try to get him to touch more of you.

“Patience baby. You know how much patience I had to have letting everyone fuck you before I got my turn. Let me give you six more then we will get to the good stuff.” He says to you as he massages your reddened flesh and you cry out his name.

“Well, six more spanks princess. Tell me how did the fucking order go? Who got you first…well besides Taehyung.” He asks as you sob under him, body alight with arousal.

“J-Jimin was first.” You cry out as Namjoon swats you extra hard.

“T-Then Jungkook.” You cry as Namjoon hums behind you and spanks just your left cheek.

“Then Jin” You cry out as Namjoon spanks your right cheek.

“Yeah, that was the night I went to the art exhibit If only I would have known my little slut was with him.”

“Then-uh-Yoongi!” You muttered as Namjoon spanked harder this time and you cried out and buried your face in the pillow. Your body was on fire and you felt your pussy pathetically fluttering around nothing.

“Almost there, princess.” He coos

“Then-Tae. He wanted to remind me who he belongs to.” You whisper as Namjoon cocks an eyebrow and stalls his spank.

“Is that so?” He demands.

“Yes?” You reply weakly as he spanks you so hard your whole body jolts forward but his other hand is there to catch you from falling off the couch.

“And who do you belong to?” He asks

“You! Joon I belong to you. Oh god please.” You cry out almost delirious from pleasure.

“Last one baby. Come on. One more name for me.” He says pressing a kiss to your tailbone as you cry out Hobi’s name.

“There is it.” He says as he spanks you one more time and you collapse on the couch face down, struggling to catch your breath.

You feel a blanket being thrown over your body and you sigh in relief as you curl up on the couch.

Namjoon then leaves you on the couch and throws open the door to see Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook standing there.

“Namjoon what a surprise!” Jimin says loudly as you bury your face in the pillow and let out a small groan at the pain from all the spanks.

“Go to Yoongi’s and tell him I’m fine. We will have a meeting and I will apologize and open up a bit more about what has been going on. Now get out of here okay? I’m not having you perverts standing at the door trying to listen in on the rest of this.” He says as you turn your head to see the three of them standing there staring between you and Namjoon, not sure where to look.

Namjoon didn’t wait for their answer instead he slammed the door and you giggled when he made his way back to you and sat on the very edge of the couch.

“How do you always know?” You tease as he smiles softly at you and rubs your back in soothing circles.

“I’ve been around them too long.” He admits as you finally sit up and stare at him. His dominant side seemed to disappear and instead, he looked calm and a little bit shy. Your heart began to race in your chest. He was so damn cute.

You slipped off the blanket and settled yourself on his lap. His hands shot out to your hips to hold you steady and he blushed under your gaze. His gorgeous dimples popping out making your heart flutter.

“I was trying to get your attention that night. I was outrageously flirting with you hoping you would come over. I was just as surprised as you were when Taehyung was the one to come over instead.” You admit as he ducks his head and shyly blushes.

“I was just about to come over when Tae did. But after…I mean…what could I do? I’m older and supposed to be the leader of the group. I need to be logical and responsible. Let the others do this kind of stuff I can’t afford to do this stuff you know.” Namjoon says lips in a pout and a saddened look in his eyes.

“Namjoon you have taken on so much as a leader. You have gone above and beyond and it shows. But also. You're a human. You are allowed to have “Good sexy fun” As Jimin puts it.” You say with a laugh as Namjoon grins and shakes his head.

“I think I handled my punishment well and you got to take out some frustration now it’s up to you. I could walk out of here right now and let you get back to being a leader of the biggest band in the world or….we could have some good sexy fun. Your choice.” You said as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“I just got you and you think I want to let you walk out that door. Please.” He exclaimed as you giggled.

“Hey I’m not here to pressure you it’s your choice!” You tease as he runs his fingers through his hair and draws small circles on your hips.

“Watching you take those spanks I’m so fucking hard right now I don’t think I could let you go if I tried.” He admits as you feel excitement course through your entire body.

“But. Can I ask one small thing?” He says softly as he intertwines your fingers with his and brings them up to his lips to give them the softest sweetest kiss.

“The last time I said sure to a favor I ended up here so why not?” You giggle.

“After this tour can I take you on a date? Like a real date? I missed my shot that night at the club but I’m not missing it now.” He says staring into your eyes and making you flush under his gaze.

“Of course Joon.” You whisper as he grins and leans in to kiss you.

His lips are soft against yours and you melt into the kiss instantly. His hands grab for your hips to push you forward so your core is flushed with his aching cock.

You moan against his mouth when you feel how thick he is under you and his hands come to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

You aren’t sure how long you both stay there kissing, it could be minutes, it could be hours but when you finally come up for air his lips are puffy and red and you giggle as you run your thumb over them watching his eyes widen at your movement.

He slowly peels you off of his lap and stands up to go to his desk drawer to get a condom. Your heart is racing in your chest as he places it on the coffee table then moves the whole thing out of the way to settle on the floor between your legs.

“Gotta prep you to take my cock.” He says as his fingers reach for your thong and pull it down your body. You sigh in relief when it’s removed and Namjoon chuckles.

“As hot as you looked we have to talk to Jimin about picking comfy clothes.” He says.

His hands grab at your knees and pull your legs apart so he can see your glistening core. He bites back an obscure moan when he sees just how wet and needy you are for him.

And it makes his cock twitch when he realizes it’s all for him and him only.

“Joon.” You cry out as his eyes snap up to yours, which are wide in desperation.

He wastes no time delivering small kisses to your thighs and you open your legs wider as he travels upwards.

Your hands naturally tangle in his hair and when he finally licks at your folds you can’t help but cry out his name when he licks a bold stripe up your pussy and flicks his tongue over your clit.

You arch your back into his touch and he continues to lick and suck at your core, swallowing everything you give him as he breathes in the scent of your arousal staining his face.

Once he can tell you are getting close he brings a finger into the mix and slips it easily inside of you. You arch up and cry out his name, opening your legs further as he slowly pumps it in and out of you.

His free hand dips down to palm at his cock which is aching in his pants and desperate for some kind of friction. He wants to be buried inside of you right this second but as wet as you were with his spanks he knows you have to have at least one orgasm before he gets his cock wet with your pussy.

“C-close” you cry out when he inserts another finger and scissors them stretching you out. His lips leave your core to stare at your face which is scrunched up in pleasure and when you finally cum around his digits moaning out his name Namjoon swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. You are art and he is grateful he got to experience it.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out as you come down from your high. You flutter open your eyes to see Namjoon still seated on the floor, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are blown wide and his hand is palming at his erection which has you giggling.

“C’mere Joon.” You say as he scrambles to get up on the couch with you. As he stands you lean forward to pull his pants and underwear down and his cock springs up and smacks against his stomach.

At the same time, he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same taking off your bra in the process.

You both take the time to take in each other’s naked bodies and you’d be lying to say you weren’t slightly intimidated.

Just as he was that night at the club Namjoon was broad and big.

His shoulders were broad and wide, his chest was muscular, his stomach was toned and the trail of hair that led downwards was mouthwatering. His cock was standing proudly against his stomach and the head was flushed a pretty red color.

You wasted no time wrapping your hand around his hardened cock as he throws his head back and whimpers at the contact.

You take your time stroking him from base to tip and when you lean forward to suck the head of his cock he choked out a moan.

You let the taste of him coat your tongue and you hallow out your cheeks as you work your way down his shaft. His hands are tangling in your hair to keep it back as you take him as far as you can go. You feel your throat constricting and you fight the urge to gag as you breathe through your nose and fight every urge in your body to pull back.

Namjoon is a whining moaning mess above you and when you finally do pull back his cock is slick with your spit and his eyes are wide.

He grabs the condom from the coffee table and rolls it on his cock. You move over to give him space on the couch as he sits down.

“How do you want this?” You ask as he jerks himself off slowly.

“How do you want it? Ladies choice.” He says as you decide to slowly climb on his lap and swat his hand away so you can hold the base of his cock.

“Wanna ride you.” You mutter as you grind yourself against his cockhead soaking it in your wetness which has him throwing his head back.

“Fuck.” he grits out when you slowly sink down on him hissing at the stretch.

“Too much? Go slow baby it’s okay.” He whispers as he rubs soothing circles on your bare back as you sink fully down in one swoop.

Namjoon chokes out a cough as he feels your tight walls around his cock and you bury your face in his strong shoulder and whimper at the stretch.

“Fuck… you are so tight around my cock. God Y/N You feel like heaven.” He mutters as he presses soft kisses to your cheeks and your forehead.

“Joonie you are so big holy shit.” You manage to huff out as you slowly rock your hips back and forth trying to ease some of the sting.

“We can take it slow baby. It’s okay we have all night.” He reminds you as he moves your hair so he can place soft kisses on your neck and collarbones.

“Close your eyes, baby. Relax around me, that’s it.” He whispers as you do as he says and his hands come up to cup at your breasts.

He takes his time massaging the skin and flicking his thumbs over your hardened nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves down your spine.

Once your body adjusts you take your time slowly grinding on his lap. His hands leave your breasts to grab at your hips to hold you.

You gulp when he thrusts up to meet you in the middle and begins to fuck into you slowly causing you to whine and beg for more.

“Say the word baby.” He teases you.

“Say how much you want me.” He says still giving you slow and shallow thrusts.

“Please Joon. Fuck me. Please.” You beg

And that’s all it takes.

Namjoon begins to fuck into you with a fierce passion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hands grabbing onto his broad back for support.

His thrusts are deep and accurate as he finds your g-spot with ease and continues to hit it with every deep thrust.

“God baby you are soaking my cock.” He grits out when you begin to add in your own thrusts as you ride him with force, the only sound in the studio being a mix of both your heavy breathing and his balls slapping your ass with each thrust.

He is fucking you with a passion you have never felt before. He pours out all those days and weeks and months of thinking about you, of waking up hard because of you, of scolding himself for letting Taehyung have you.

His breathing becomes uneven and you are crying out above him. The coil of pleasure is tightening with every thrust of his cock and as much as you want this to last longer you know you are getting close.

“Joon-Cl-Close.” You cry out as he captures your lips in a heated messy kiss. One of his hands holds your hip while the other reaches between your legs and finds your clit with ease.

You cry into his mouth when he circles your clit and soon enough you are spasming and cumming hard around his cock, his plump lips swallow your moans as your pussy tightens around his cock and he cums hard inside of you still kissing you with such force it steals the breath from your lungs.

You slump down in his lap as you both breathe heavily. He stills his movements and you both take your time coming down from your high.

You press small kisses to his collarbones as he runs a shaky hand through his hair. The air in the studio reeks of sex and it is humid as hell when you finally pull off of him you collapse on the couch staring at him with admiration in your eyes.

“Let me get you cleaned up. Stay here.” He says taking the fallen blanket and throwing it over your body as he disposes of the condom and leaves to go and get a towel.

Ever the gentleman he kneels in front of you to get you cleaned up. He discards the towel and holds you in his arms on the couch.

You stare up at him and smile, he looks so relaxed, so peaceful it makes your heart happy.

“That was amazing.” He says breaking the comfortable silence as he holds you in his arms and you snuggle into his bare chest.

“Worth the wait?” You tease as he shoots you a boyish grin.

“Worth the wait. Though now I have to wait once again to take you out on a proper date. Good thing I’m a patient man.” He teases you as he kisses your temples and you fall into a peaceful sleep in his arms.

Soon enough Namjoon finds his eyes fluttering closed and for the first time in a long time, he sleeps throughout the night.

Taglist

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

@madebyjungkookie

@iammeandmeisiam

@allie-is-a-panda

@marihoneywk

@stayonmars

@xmspurple7x

@coffeedepressionsoup

@lerasi

@taekritimin123

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@crisle19

[rifari2037]

They talked about cultural differences?? Really??? I laughed so hard 🤣

Do they realised that air and water are different too?? That their cultural are completely opposite???

Water tribe people killed animals for food, furniture, clothes, etc. That's their culture! Air nomads don't killed animals, even a fly, for any reasons, they're vegetarian. That's their culture!!

There's nothing wrong with both cultures, but if we think about it with sense, can two people with extreme cultural differences marry and accept each other's cultures easily?

No, it won't be easy. Katara and Aang got married without any problems about cultural differences because Bryke were the writers!

Do they know that Aang/Kataang stand was aware about it and wrote this???

Do they even realise that in canon Aang doesn't really like Water Tribe culture?? Yes, that's CANON!!

Katara : Bato, it looks like home! [Bato, Katara, Sokka, and Aang file inside.] Sokka : Everything's here, even the pelts! Aang : [Sarcastically.] Yeah, nothing's cozier than dead animal skins.

Katara : [Surprised and delighted.] No way! Stewed sea prunes! Bato : Help yourself! Sokka : Dad could eat a whole barrel of these things! Aang takes a bowl of stewed sea prunes and sniffs it, but looks away in disgust and sets it to the side.

Aang : Hey everyone! Sorry I was gone so long. Katara : [Turns to face him.] Hey, Aang, I didn't notice you left. Aang : Yup, but now I'm back. [Sitting down.] Sure could go for some delicious sea prunes! Aang quickly takes some bites of sea prunes, but chokes them back up, yet he pretends to enjoy them. Katara, Bato, and Sokka look at him strangely.

Hama : I wanted to surprise you! I bought all this food today so I could fix you a big Water Tribe dinner. Of course, I can't get all the ingredients I need here, but ocean kumquats are a lot like sea prunes if you stew them long enough. Aang : [Sticking his tongue out in disgust.] Great!

Aang : [Whispering to Toph.] I'd steer clear of the sea prunes. Toph : I thought they were ocean kumquats. Aang : Close enough.

Oh, btw, An ocean kumquat is a small, round fruit often consumed in the Fire Nation. That's close enough with sea prunes, water tribe cuisine.

When Aang doesn't like water tribe cuisine, I can imagine Zuko and Katara having dinner, sharing water tribe and fire nation dishes and they enjoying it because it taste similar. 😂

Fire and water are the opposite elements, that's why they are compliment each other.

Yin and Yang shows a balance between two opposites with a portion of the opposite element in each section.

Remember what Iroh said about the elements? Let's see if fire and water don't mix together, especially for Zuko and Katara.

"Fire is the element of power..."

"...The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want."

"Water is the element of change..."

"...The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things..."

"...They have a deep sense of community and love that holds them together through anything."

Young Zuko : [Zuko is shown standing up.] You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?

Zuko and Katara would bicker and not get along well, they said?? Really??

Every time Katara is mad, Zuko just silent and listen to her. Even when they're still enemies!!

Oh, btw, Katara not 'always' threatened Zuko to kill him if he hurt Aang. It happened once. She is still mad at him not because of Aang, but because he betrayed her.

That's personal to her, she is mad not because he hurt someone else but he hurt her. I mean, if she really mad at him because of Aang, why is she connected her anger at Zuko to her mom, not Aang (again)?

And after this moment, after Katara by her own choice, forgives Zuko, do Zuko and Katara always bickering and not get along at all??? No, they're not!!

Zuko gives Katara advice, Katara listens. Katara gives Zuko advice, Zuko listens.

They reassure each other at a very important moment.

Lastly, I don't understand how Zuko and Katara, who they said would never get along, always save each other lives, even Zuko sacrifice his life to her?

[solbaby7]

someone requested [ Manhattan + salt rim + neat ] and I accidentally deleted it but i remembered!!

warnings: leashes (yup like for dogs 🤭) minors dni, thank you thank you thank you thank you for this request 🥵

—

Azriel knew it was going to be an issue—you spending so much time with Nesta Archeron.

He’d found it cute at first. His sweet girl making friends with someone as prickly as death incarnate, until he’d started noticing the changes. How kind words shift into a biting wit; adopting a darker kind of humor that leaves his brows raised and tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “Come bunny, it’s time to get out of bed.”

Perhaps it’s in that learned behavior where you find the gall to part your lips and mutter, “No, I’m not going.”

It’s surprising—your defiance. Enough for him to pause in the middle of his morning routine, thigh holsters half buckled with an array of sharpened daggers and switchblades laid out before him. “Say that again?”

“To training,” You elaborate, mindlessly toying with the fraying edges of your nail varnish. Soft sheets swallow you whole, thick pillows and duvets emitting Azriel’s comforting scent all around you. “I’m not going today.”

For only a second he falters before his movements start up again, deft fingers easily buckling strips of leather and filling the slots with weapons. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m feeling like I don’t want to sweat under the burning sun all fucking day.” Your eyes are too busy rolling at the thought to notice the tick of Azriel’s jaw, the strained way he tightens his belt. “Nes and I are going shopping after brunch instead.”

“Oh?” There’s a pause, a tense silence that forces you to lean up on your elbows, neck craning to peer over at the Illyrian. Though, Azriel’s not getting ready anymore and he’s lounging too comfortably for someone who’d been adamant on following the guidelines of his rigorous schedule. The clock tick, tick, ticks away and for some reason he’s not reaching for his top or the crossbody holsters he slides on after. His hair is still dripping wet from his shower, not even bothering to work his styling pomade through. “Says who?”

He just sits there—watching, waiting. Staring at you like one of the prisoners he chains up in his dungeons; prodding at the barriers of their restraint until the spymaster tore it to shreds. You hate how well it works, chipping away at the fortified walls you’d built in your new friendships. How easily Azriel’s able to walk up to those borders and send them crumbling down with nothing more than a look.

It should be embarrassing, the affect he has on you. The way one arched brow has your spine instinctively straightening, throat rolling with a swallow as you struggle to muster up the same confidence that burned through you just moments ago. “I wasn’t aware I needed permission.”

Azriel hums low in his chest, shoulders relaxing and head nodding once, twice, three times before that stoic expression melts into understanding. “I see, that’s probably my fault. Got a touch lenient—allowed room for a little too much…hope.”

“Hope?”

Alarm bells begin ringing the further he settles in the chair, thick thighs spreading wide and veiny forearms eat up the space along the armrest. “Hope,” he agrees. “Give a good pet a little too much freedom—too much hope and all the necessary structure begins to waver.” You’re caught like a fly in a trap, limbs sticking to the carefully spun webs Az’s woven until your struggle only leaves the metaphorical ropes twisting and knotting tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m a good trainer. Won’t let you slack for a second—even if you do bat those pretty lashes up at me.”

Your mouth goes dry when his wrist flicks, two fingers beckoning you closer in silent command. A part of you hesitates; resists the rigorous discipline and rules put in place to keep you safe. Protected. But Nesta said that you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself without some overgrown bat looming over your shoulder. Right?

You obey anyway, praying that Azriel doesn’t hold the contemplation against you.

The Mother doesn’t seem to hear your plea, too occupied with more deserving persons to spare a second glance at the predicament you’d weaseled your way into. Each step closer feels like knowing wrong and choosing the sin anyway, solidifying your fate and dealing your destiny with the devil for all time. “Sit.”

A huffy breath of irritation before you ease down to your knees, leaning your weight back against your calves. “I’m not some fucking dog.”

“No, you aren’t,” His hand smells of body wash when a thumb runs over the curve of your cheek, blunt nail tracing against the shape of your mouth. It’s almost sweet, toeing the line of possibly romantic when you hear it—the squeaky strain of fresh leather. The cool bite of the latch registers too late, a metallic click locking it in place. “But lately you’ve been acting like one. My rabid mutt.”

Manicured nails grip at the newest accessory but it doesn’t budge no matter how much you tug at it. Your cheeks flame, a mix of fury and pure embarrassment from the rush of arousal that soils your panties when each breath grows just a bit labored. “You fucking collared me?”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll buy a muzzle to match.” He catches on to the way your thighs clench together, lips snapping shut as your brain fights to decide whether you want to scream back a “fuck you” or “fuck me”.

You land somewhere in the middle, words stern but tone leaking with curiosity. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A hellish grin splits across the handsome lines of his face, like a wolf straining in the seams of sheep’s clothing. “Try me.” He’s lost the concept to time when such fun prey has found itself stuck in his crosshairs. Such a sweet lamb should know better than to wander away from its shepherd—heaven forbid something should happen to you. “Test me, I dare you. I’ll walk you through town like some purebred if you keep acting like you weren’t taught to act with decorum.”

He means it too. You know he does. Even after all these years, you still had yet to hear words Azriel’s didn’t back up with action. Instantly, your eyes lower, head bowing in order to conceal the pinpricked pupils that dialate with desire. It burns in your belly, a cacophony of fantasies lashing against your eyelids at warp speed.

You in your shiny collar, name engraved on the customized nameplate with Azriel’s information on the back right under “If Found, Return To”

It’s purely involuntary, the desperate whimper that cuts through the bedchambers and Azriel pats at your head like some pampered pup in need of comfort. Offering love and fond coos when you easily correct the behaviors he doesn’t enjoy.

Obedient. Disciplined. Loyal. His.

“There’s a good girl. Keep that up and I’ll give you a treat.”

[luvyeni]

❛DONT GO INTO THE WOODS❜ ( l. felix )

p. fairy!felix x human!reader w. 1.9k+

warnings? yandere themes, oral ( f. receiving ), unprotected sex, mind control

— 𖦹 ( your mom always told you never to go into the woods) !

freaktober masterlist

the first time you were told to never go into the woods you were 5 – that was the first time you saw him. he was the same age as you , but you could tell he was different from you , you didn’t have pointy ears and iridescent wings.

he was playing around and you being the curious little kid you were , you approached him. “hi.” he stopped what he was doing standing up. “you can’t be in these woods.” you frowned. “you’re a human.” he said handing you a flower. “people get lost when they come in here.” now that should’ve scared you , but as a kid you had no fears.

he took you by the hand , guiding you out of the woods safely. “keep this flower , i’ll see you when we’re older , my name is felix.” you didn’t know what that mean , but before you could ask him , he just disappeared. you couldn’t even process what was going on because soon enough you had been pulled into a tight hug by your mother who was crying.

“listen to me , never go into those woods okay , don’t go into those woods.” she said through tears. “why are you crying mommy?” your little self was confused. “i’m just happy you’re home.” you didn’t know what that meant at the time , but when you got older your mother told something that shocked you. you weren’t in the woods for a few minutes like you thought – you had been missing in those woods for 3 days.

that was years ago , you’re now an adult , you moved away from your home , graduated school , got a good paying job , and a lovely boyfriend – life was good , but you for some reason you always felt tied back to your childhood home – to those woods , to felix.

“hi mom.” you walked into the house , your mom wrapped her arms around you , she never really got over those horrible 3 days , never really letting you out her sight , she was devastated when you moved away for college , so you tried to come and visit her whenever you could. “ah! my daughter , you’re home.” you smiled. “and you bought your wonderful boyfriend , come in and get settled , i’m gonna start cooking.”

“your mother loves you so much.” you nodded unpacking your bags. “she’s a little overprotective , but that’s just because of what happened when i was 5.” you said. “what happened?” your boyfriend asked. “see those woods outside my bedroom? i was lost for three days in those woods.” you said. “oh my god , how can you be so calm.” you shrugged. “because to me it only felt like a couple minutes.” your boyfriend look bewildered. “what?”

“yeah , people say that the woods are magic , as a kid i believed it , i even imagined a fairy boy around my age , he even gave me a flower , his name was felix.” you laughed. “you have a wild imagination.” he wrapped arms around your waist. ‘you will be mine’ you furrowed your eyebrows. “you okay baby?” you shook the thought away , smiling. “yup , i’m fine , let’s go help mom.”

the night went on , and soon it was nightfall and everyone said their good nights , going to their respective rooms. you one the other hand – you sat up in bed , you couldn’t sleep , your mind still on the woods , and that fairy boy from all those years ago. ‘come to me’

there was that voice again , you looked around and saw nothing. ‘come to me my love’ you got up , slipping on your slippers , covering yourself with your robe. “baby?” you heard your boyfriends sleepy voice. “just gonna get some water baby , go back to bed.” you smiled , he nodded muttering a i love you before opening up the bedroom door – something catching your attention on the floor , a flower , a bunch of flowers , the same one that imagined the fairy giving you. ‘follow the flowers my love.’ you picked up the flowers , that made their way all the way to the front door. ‘open the door my love.’

you don’t know why you were listening to this voice , it was like you couldn’t stop yourself – you kept walking and walking until you reached that forbidden place , the place where you first saw him. ‘let me lead you’ it was like you had no control over your body , like your feet were moving on its own , deeper into the woods – your house slowly getting smaller until you could no longer see it.

Your feet carried you further and further until you reached a house , but not just any house , a tree house , the door was slightly open , you pushed it open , walking in. “hello?” you finally felt like you had control over your body and your voice. “is anybody there?” you heard something coming from a room , following the noise , you found yourself outside a bedroom. “come in my love.” you heard a deep voice. “i’ve been waiting for you.”

“who are you?” he turned around , and you were stunned. his angel like face , freckles scattered all over his face , his blue hair adding on to his magical look. but what tied his magical look together was the iridescent wings – you remember those wings from anywhere , those wings had never left your mind. “you’re him , you’re the little fairy boy , felix!”

he smiled , making his was over to you. “i knew you’d remember me , i knew my angel would find me.” he said , his hand coming up to caress your face , you should’ve stopped him , but you couldn’t , his touch just felt normal. “did you like your gift?” you held the flowers. “they’re really beautiful , i kept the one you gave me when were kids until it died , i was so sad when it died.” you said. “i know i saw and felt how sad you were.” he said. “y-you felt it.” you stuttered , he nodded taking the flowers from you , sitting them in a empty vase , like he’s been waiting. “i’ve been tied to you since that day , no matter how far you went , i could always feel everything you were feeling , see everything you were doing.”

“e-everything?” he slowly turned to you. “yes angel , everything – i could feel when you were sad , i saw when you cried.” he slowly walked over to you , backing you into a wall. “i felt when you were angry.” his hand coming up to your robe tie , pulling at it. “i could feel when you were horny , and when you would fuck your little fingers into your dripping hole.” his deep voice soaking your panties. “i could see it all.”

your breathing was so heaving , his fingers tracing your body. “m-my boyfriend.” his eyes turned dark. “he doesn’t matter anymore , none of them do , you’ll never see them again.” he pushed the robe off your shoulders , letting it hit the floor , leaving you in your short night gown. “you even dressed so pretty for me.”

he pushed you down on his bed , hovering over your body. “the day you came into my woods i knew i had to make you mine.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “y-your woods?” you were so confused , you couldn’t understand a thing he was saying. “these woods baby , they’re mine.” he pulled your panties down your legs. “the creatures and other beings in these woods , they’re under me , and soon you too.” he kissed your pussy. “my queen.”

“felix!” you shrieked feeling his tongue dragging up and down your folds. “taste so fucking sweet baby.” he groaned against your cunt , the vibrations making you moan. “such a tasty pussy.” the fairy ate you like a starved man , his wings flapping behind him , grinding against the bed as he shoved his tongue deeper into your hole. “fuck , fuck felix i’m gonna cum.” you screamed.

he pulled away , shoving two of his fingers into your hole. “wanna stretch you out before you take my cock.” he thrusted his fingers in and out of your hole. “gonna take it like a good girl right , let me fuck your pussy open?” you nodded , moaning. “then cum for me.” he kissed your clit , taking in your all your juices as you came. “shit!”

he lifted your night gown over your body , taking his pants off , he looked ethereal his naked body hovering over yours. “gonna fuck you now.” He rubbed his cock on your folds. “you feel so warm.” you moaned , as he grabbed the base of his cock , sliding into your dripping hole. “fuck you feel like heaven angel.” he groaned , his cock stretching you out as he seethed himself inside you. “just perfect.”

he moved his hips , grabbing your jaw. “look at me princess , keep your eyes on me.” he moaned , his eyes pulling you deeper into his trance. “as of tonight , you’re mine.” he grunted. “forget about your old life , spend the rest of your days as my queen right? you nodded , basically signing your life away , but you could care less with the way he was fucking you. “y-yes.”

upon hearing the small yes they fell from your lips , he sped his movements up , rutting into much faster. “f-felix.” you felt your orgasm bubbling up. “gonna cum angel , let me feel you cum all over my cock.” he rubbed your clit , you , your cunt squeezing tightly as you came.

“fu-fuck , i wanted to wait until we were wed to fuck you full of my kids , but you’re squeezing me so tight.” he cursed. “gonna cum inside you -fuck- tonight.” he groaned. “give me a heir to the throne.” he thrust faltering , thrusting one , two , three times before cumming inside your cunt. “fuck!”

you laid in his bed while he heated up the bath , getting inside with you , washing your skin. “so pretty.” he whispered , kissing your delicate skin , he finally got you , after years of waiting for your return , he finally got you. “you can’t escape me baby , these woods they’re different , they listen to me.” he kissed your temple.

“you’re all mines and all mines , forever.”

©LUVYENI

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 3: Missing Moments

a little something for @bucktommypositivityweek 💜 tommy POV after their first date + buck calling about meeting for coffee

**

Tommy's not moping. He doesn't mope. Especially not over a relationship that wasn't even a relationship yet. It was one date. Arguably less. Half a date with a guy he's hung out with—if he's counting very generously—a grand total of four times.

A blip, as far as relationships go. He has more history with that guy he used to trade semi-frequent blowjobs with who's saved in his phone as Nose Ring.

...Come to think of it, he should delete that guy's number. They haven't spoken in years. He's pretty sure the last text in their message history is—yup. Dick pic. From Nose Ring. They'd gone six months without contact, then he sent a picture of his penis and nothing else. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to be even vaguely interested, and there's been no communication since.

And that's really that's the problem, isn't it. His dating history is riddled with guys like that. Dead-end hookups and bad dates with people he didn't click with no matter how much he tried to force it. And people who just...didn't care enough. Then Evan...

Alright, he's moping a little bit. He's only human.

He's been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Pretty much since he got home. It's not late enough that he's tired, really, but he's also exhausted. In a soul-deep sort of way.

It was nice. He had a nice time, sitting across from Evan, letting him stutter his way through all the usual first date talking points like he was reading them off a list in his head. It was cute, how seriously he took it, how he'd pause and smile and get that soft look in his eye when he was listening to Tommy talk.

It would have been so easy to be greedy and keep spending time basking in that warmth he seems to radiate. Evan was clearly willing to push himself way past his comfort zone, but. Tommy wasn't. Isn't. His stomach twists just thinking about it.

But maybe he's being selfish either way. He wants more than Evan can give him, so he's pulling away completely, retreating before he can get too deep into planning a future Evan isn't ready for.

He sighs, feeling around next to his pillow until his fingers close around his phone.

Maybe Evan will reach out again. Some day. Eventually. Once he's more at ease with himself. Or maybe Tommy already ruined what could have been before it even started. Probably safer to just assume the latter. Restrict himself to hoping they can still be friends after this.

He scrolls aimlessly through his contacts. There's quite a few numbers in there that he should delete. Names he's not sure he recognizes anymore. Ones he wishes he could forget.

For some godforsaken reason he still has Sam Westbrook in here. Just reading the name puts a pit in his stomach. He doesn't remember everything about the three horrible months they spent together, it's mostly just flashes. The taste of too much beer on his tongue, saturated and clumsy in his mouth. A sharp smile and a sharper suit, always pressed and starched and better-than-you.

Tommy was newly out and far too hard on himself about how difficult it was. Guys like Sam seemed to sniff that out, made his personal shame all about them. It didn't always work, but Sam was particularly good at it. He always left Tommy feeling gutted and guilty and far too willing to do whatever it took to make it up to him the next time they saw each other. It's not a relationship he likes to think about.

But it's a reminder that he did the right thing tonight.

And...

Maybe he'll call Evan. Not yet, not right away. Tommy needs time to square away his own messy feelings, but maybe in a couple weeks. Just to let Even know he's. Around. If he needs someone to talk to about all this.

They can be friends. He'll make it work.

He deletes Sam's number, and tosses his phone aside.

Two weeks.

—

It's only two days later when his phone rings, Evan Buckley written across his screen in big white letters. He stares at it through five long buzzes while his heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This...wasn't the plan. And to make matters worse, he's at work. He catches one of his coworkers side-eyeing him curiously, and that pretty much guarantees he'll have at least three people ask him what was up with the phone call before his shift it over.

Well. He should at least give them something to gossip about. A guy called me and I watched it go to voicemail isn't much of a story.

He swipes to answer, before he can make himself any more nervous.

"Hey."

"Tommy! Hey!" Evan's voice crackles a little through the phone with a surprised intake of breath, like he wasn't the one who called in the first place. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches. "H-how's it going?"

Tommy spent four hours yesterday taking apart his neighbours' lawn mower because he'd convinced the man it was making a weird noise and he could fix it. There was nothing wrong with it, but he checked every inch anyways, and put it back together well-oiled and exactly as pristine as it was before. That morning he'd gone grocery shopping with a paper list and his phone at home so he'd stop obsessively combing through all his files trying to find things to delete.

So, he's having a very normal week, clearly.

"Good," he says instead of explaining any of that. "I'm actually at work right now, so—"

"Oh crap, I forgot you were working today, sorry. I—I can call back later if you're busy."

"No, it's okay. Slow day so far." He pauses. "One might even say qui—"

"Ah, don't jinx it!"

Tommy snickers. Apparently Eddie wasn't exaggerating. He's known a lot of superstitious people, but most of them didn't take it this seriously. Evan sounded less panicked about flying directly into an actual hurricane. "Right, the dreaded Q-Word."

"Did you hear about the power lines that fell on our engine?!"

"Yes." He'd seen the pictures too. Pretty much everyone had, the 133 were sending them around all day after they took that call.

"And then some guy stole it later that same day, y'know. It was a terrible shift."

He'd heard about that too, but not that it was the same station. Damn. "Alright, alright. No tempting fate."

"Well. Good. Too many things can go wrong with helicopters."

Tommy squints up at the rafters, feeling unbearably fond. Like he's full of something warm and syrupy and too big for his chest, like he's spilling sunlight between his ribs.

He should ask why Evan called. Polite check-in after their date ended so abruptly? Another storm he needs Tommy to fly into? Metaphorical or otherwise. Hopefully it won't involve stealing anything else. They got way too lucky the first time for Tommy to trust it working out again, and he kind of likes his job.

He slips his free hand into his pocket. "How are you doing, Evan?"

"Oh." He lets out a soft exhale that comes through as quiet static. "I, uh. Good, actually. B-better, um. Listen, are you free tomorrow?"

Tommy stops breathing, lungs seizing for a long moment before he very carefully reminds himself how to use them. "Yes."

"I wanted to. Talk. To you. Um. In person, preferably."

This really wasn't the plan.

But it's fine. It's more than fine. It's...

He'll just have to deal with wanting to kiss the living daylights out of someone who's off-limits, it's not like he's never had to do that before. If Evan needs something from him he's not about to say no, he just didn't expect it to happen so soon, if it happened at all.

"I, uh, would've just popped by your house unannounced, but I thought this might be more polite," he continues, a teasing lilt in his voice. Tommy purses his lips against the smile threatening to overtake his face. "Also, I don't know where you live."

"You could've asked Eddie."

"Oh, so you're saying I should have ambushed you then?"

"No, that's very rude. Who does that."

Evan's delighted laugh is bright and infectious, and has him grinning at his feet, sunlight spreading down to the tips of his fingers.

"So, coffee? Tomorrow?"

"Alright."

"Cool. Awesome. I'll text you the details?"

"Cool," he echoes, purposefully deadpan. "Awesome."

He can hear the smile in Evan's voice when he pretends to be offended by the mocking. It's there all through their goodbye too, and Tommy finds himself coiled up around his anticipation at the thought of seeing that smile again.

It's going to be a long 18 hours. But it's worth the wait.

[lovinpelova]

forgive me | n. charles

summary; you always forgive your lover.

🎵 idfc - blackbear

as soon as the gate opened for chelsea to start scoring goals you knew this wasn't going to be arsenal's night. six minutes after the first and eleven minutes after the second you were down 3-0 with no hope of your team meshing together, substitutes doing nothing apart from aiding kim in the last minute goal that took away chelsea's clean sheet.

whilst you were happy to score one goal, it wasn't enough. you were playing awfully with possession in midfield and defence as a cdm twinned with wally, both of you trying to track back and block attacks but ultimately having to rely on manu to deliver in the second half. fresh legs did nothing for arsenal and the only goal you scored was from a deflection, chelsea had gotten their revenge at stamford bridge.

with only twenty minutes to go niamh got subbed off after being tended to by the medical staff at chelsea, your mind immediately running wild with bad thoughts when you saw her holding her knee but eventually calming down when she walked off perfectly fine. the chelsea players walking off to time waste and getting more physical had earned a reaction from you, the referee gifting you a yellow card and warning you to stop protesting before she put you on a red. it's safe to say after that, a horrible team performance, remembering you had to play chelsea in the continental cup final, having a low player rating yourself and spending the night at niamh's house - you were in a foul mood.

fair enough, the game wouldn't have made much of a difference for arsenal if you'd won due to how far behind you were in goals and points, but it's the performance that was bugging you all. the league standings were the same, united too far behind for arsenal to be worrying about losing their spot, but when you're yelling at your teammates in disagreement and failing to keep possession anywhere on the pitch it starts to play a mental game on you all. chelsea took advantage of that - and whilst you congratulated them all happily with a genuine smile on your face, you couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of relief and exhaustion when you collapsed into the passenger seat of your girlfriend's car.

"good game?"

you shook your head with another deep exhale, for some reason having tears in your eyes at such a harsh loss.

"definitely not."

you replied with a wobble in your voice, niamh seemingly not registering how upset you were due to her adrenaline still pumping from such a large win. she'd been teasing you ever since you won 4-1 against chelsea last time, saying if chelsea beat arsenal when you were sleeping at hers for the weekend that she wouldn't let you live it down, but you didn't think she'd actually follow through with her promise.

"i reckon the socks gave you a bit of bad luck, don't you? i mean- nothing was working for you guys."

"yup, gathered that from the scoreline niamhy."

the defender processed her nickname as a fond expression rather than an annoyed one, continuing to rant about how good of a game chelsea had for the fifteen minute drive home whenever she had seen something that reminded her of the club or remembered a good tackle she'd made.

you'd been tuning out her rants the entire way and she hadn't noticed your dip in attitude since the final whistle blew, your fuse seconds away from blowing in fury.

"you hungry babe? actually nevermind, i'm sure you're full after having that defeat shoved down your throat."

"oh- niamh just shut up for one second would you!"

the brunette stood still in the kitchen with a shocked expression, turning to you as she watched your face writhe in anger.

"i'm sick and tired of hearing your cocky little comments every time you win against arsenal!"

"excuse me? don't act like you don't make comments when arsenal win against chelsea-"

"i do but i don't shove them down your throat and go on about it for the entire fifteen minute drive home!"

niamh pushed herself off the counter so she was stood upright, her jaw slack in shock at your sudden outburst and the way you were yelling. normally you spoke to your girlfriend about anything that was annoying you, so it seems the anger of such a big loss was still hanging over your head and making you act out.

"i'm not shoving anything down your fucking throat y/n! you need to watch your tone- it's not my fault arsenal played shit today!"

"don't you dare talk about my team like that! i didn't insult chelsea's performance when we won at the emirates, you have absolutely no right to be saying that!"

by now you'd made your way into the kitchen and were stood on the other side of the island, staring into niamh's eyes furiously as she returned the rage you were emitting. she thought tonight would be peaceful judging by your silence in the car and smile at stamford bridge when congratulating the blues, but she must have read you wrong.

"i'm not talking shit about your team, i'm telling the truth! the only goal you managed to score was off a fucking deflection! how is that a good game?!"

"i never said we had a good game! you need to shut your fucking mouth about my club and how we played tonight- you don't play for arsenal, so you don't have a say in the matter!"

"oh so all of a sudden my opinion on performances doesn't matter just because i play for chelsea, does it?!"

"shut the fuck up niamh! i'm so sick of your bullshit! go get your ego in check and come talk to me when you're done acting like a fucking toddler!"

before your girlfriend could respond you stormed off into the guest room of her apartment, angrily putting your phone on charge after slamming the door behind yourself. you could hear niamh angrily mumbling things to herself in the kitchen, soon followed by the quiet noise of her tv turning on as she seemingly resided in the living room.

you hadn't meant to lash out at niamh, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do, but with her constant teasing and cocky remarks for almost half an hour straight you couldn't help yourself. you'd blown up on each other and were now waiting to calm down, expecting the other to apologise first before remembering you were both too stubborn for your own good, soon feeling sleepy from the exhaustion of constantly running back and forth. not even bothering to get under the duvet or fluffy blanket niamh had put at the foot of her spare bed, you let sleep overcome your senses.

during the middle of the night you woke up to the door opening and closing, a body shuffling into bed behind you and wrapping strong arms around your waist with soft kisses along your shoulder and neck. quiet apologies were whispered against your skin with thumbs rubbing the muscles of your stomach to fully wake you up.

"i'm sorry babygirl. you know i can't sleep on an argument, i didn't mean to talk bad about your club like that. i was just still a bit too happy about the win."

your arm reached behind you to pull niamh further into you by her neck, sighing in comfort when you felt her continue to pepper soft kisses along your exposed skin.

"i didn't mean to insult you like that. i know how cocky you can get, i should've told you i wasn't up for teasing or just asked for space when i started getting mad."

you turned in her arms and pressed your forehead against hers instinctively, hands caressing her cheeks as you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. niamh continued to rub her thumbs across your hips in a comforting manner, both of you breathing in sync to calm down and forgive the other for lashing out. your thumbs traced along her jawline and up her chin, searching for her lips and dragging her bottom one down teasingly to let her know you were going to kiss her, the defender gladly letting you as she kissed you back softly with a smile to match your own. you pecked her lips a couple more times to test the waters, trying not to let your breathing pick up when she gripped your hips a tiny bit harsher with more intent than before.

"niamh,"

"y/n,"

she breathlessly whispered your name to match your call of hers, both of you closing your eyes and resting your foreheads together. the curtains were slightly drawn back from the window behind you- and by god, was the moonlight doing wonders for her eye colour.

"i love you baby."

your immediate response was to kiss her passionately, lingering on her lips with your thumb rubbing over her cheekbone and noses touching due to the lack of distance.

"i love you my girl."

you mirrored her words and felt her cheeks wrinkle up in a genuine smile, the defender leaning in to kiss you softly with one hand pulling you by the side of your neck as yours moved to trace along her pulse point lovingly. niamh smiled at the feeling of your fingertips trailing down her body, pulling away and biting your lip in a teasing response before you forced her to pull away by shoving her shoulder.

"turn around, i wanna be big spoon."

niamh complied to your order without any hesitation and a matching grin, turning around and reaching behind to tug your arm around her waist, kicking your leg softly when you scoffed at her eagerness and quickly sinking back into your touch with a relaxed sigh to match your own.

[goingmerryfics]

Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk

Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.

Shanks

Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between

Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion

Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained

The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe

Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm

While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned

Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain

He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk

But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue

You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you

He doesn’t touch you

It’s painfully silent for a while

Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension

“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”

You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours

He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it

He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe

“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

You do

You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms

Buggy

Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here

Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it

Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through

But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another

Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating

Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though

Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life

Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though

He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal

“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”

He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose

He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin

He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago

As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious

He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again

It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again

“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place

“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”

He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose

He looks like a damn mess

It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you

he pouts up at you and you cave

He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long

Mihawk

If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it

Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you

Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes

He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?

But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is

Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt

Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book

This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away

“Darling, we need to talk right away.”

Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night

The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone

So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge

Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning

But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability

He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does

And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are

If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.

“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”

It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place

You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence

He can work with that

He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small

He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect

[ladykailitha]

Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate Part 2

I am absolutely thrilled with how well the first chapter did. Thank you everyone for your support. If you requested to be on the tag list and aren't that means I ran out of room and so so sorry.

You can follow me or the tag #knight protectorate au, as that is the tag I will be using for the series I do with this verse. I hope that helps!

Here we get Steve to the rescue and Eddie instantly heart-eyes. Poor Jeff.

Part 1

~

Steve was getting more push back then he thought he would, but at the same time it was from the people he was expecting.

“Admit it,” Carol said, “you know I’m right. The only reason Tammy is involved in any thing music related is because Mummy Dearest is paying for it all. Her singing is horrible.”

Steve tried to hide his smile, but he really couldn’t.

“See?” she shrieked in glee. “I just don’t know why you won’t let me tell her. Someone needs to before she gets into her head she’s going to be famous or some shit.”

“Because it wouldn’t do anything but make her mad,” he reasoned. “Then she’d tell her mom, and her mom would tell your mom and your mom would ground your ass because they are in the same golfing club or some shit.”

Carol blinked at him for a moment or two and then shrugged. “Yeah, all right. You have a point. But I can still mock her behind her back, right?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed.

“Just keep it between us, yeah?”

She tilted her head to the side and then shrugged. “I guess I could do that.”

He heaved a sigh of relief and was just grateful for the smallest concession she was willing to make.

Everyone knew Carol was still saying shit, but at least she was only saying it to Steve.

“God, Abby,” Nicole whined, “where did you get that dress the trash bin behind Melvand’s?” She laughed as Abby tugged on her the hem of her denim dress. It was wrinkled in that way denim will some times get when it’s put into shapes it wasn’t meant for.

“Fuck off, Nicole,” Steve barked. “You have a dress just like it, it’s just Levi instead of some off brand.”

Nicole’s jaw dropped and whirled on Steve. “Is this the thanks I get for finding that little creep for you?”

Steve raised his eyebrow in disdain. “Helping a guy out doesn’t mean you get to shit on everyone else. She isn’t hurting you. She’s just walking in the hall. And for fuck’s sake, she’s a freshman. We’re all gross at that age. Give it up.”

Nicole’s jaw clicked shut and she turned on her heel, running away. The gathered crowd laughed at her retreating form.

“It’s not funny, assholes,” he huffed. “Laughing at Abby being bullied is the same as laughing at Nicole getting told off for it. It’s still rude.”

The hall went deathly quiet.

Tommy came bounding up to Steve and Carol. “Larry Wiggins just got laid out by Munson trying to hassle him out of some dope.”

Steve grimaced. “Everyone knows that Munson doesn’t sell anything hard on school property. He likes avoiding felony charges.”

Tommy grinned, bouncing on the pads of his toes. “That’s what makes it so hilarious. Munson doesn’t even deal on Tuesdays so he didn’t even have weed to offer him to back off.”

“So Larry takes a swing at Munson and gets flattened for it?” Steve guessed with a heavy sigh.

“Yup!”

Carol giggled as Steve sighed again.

“One of these days a football player is going to knock that guy’s pearly whites out,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oohhh...” Tommy said wincing, pulling his arms up to his chest. “That would be ug-lee!”

Steve hummed his agreement.

~

Look, despite what Eddie’s teachers thought, he wasn’t stupid. After the incident with Wiggins on the basketball team, he had refused to do deals alone.

But then meathead jocks barely used their brains to drool, like alone think.

Eddie was on his way to his picnic table where Doug had been waiting for him when this football player came out of literal nowhere to slam him against a tree.

Eddie’s head swam as he tried to squeeze away his sudden double vision. “What the fuck, man?”

When he could see the captain of the football team, Bobby Vincent, was grabbing him by the collar and shoving him up against the tree.

Bobby pulled out a nearly empty baggie of weed. “You shorted me, asshole. You call this a gram?”

“It was when I sold it to you,” Eddie insisted, hands coming up to grab Bobby’s hand at his throat. “I don’t short. It’s bad for business.” He certainly didn’t short people who throw him around like a rag doll for crying out loud. He didn’t have a death wish.

“You’re going to give me a replacement for free,” Bobby sneered, “aren’t you, pretty boy?”

Eddie tried to yank on the football player’s hand to get him to release him, but the white knuckle grip refused to budge. “I can’t give you shit, man. My supplier would kill me. I’ve got more to think about then just one customer.”

He could see the punch coming and knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He closed his eyes against the pain he knew was coming.

But the pain never came. He peeked out of one eye and was shocked to see Steve Harrington holding meathead’s wrist. They were both stock still. Which Eddie couldn’t figure it out, he had to open his other eye to see the full tableau in front of him.

Steve had a grip on Bobby’s wrist, that was certainly true, but that wasn’t what had the football player by the short and curlies. Oh no. In Steve’s other hand was a small but very deadly pocket knife. A knife that was current pressed to the ribs on the side of the raised arm. Suddenly Eddie was feeling weak in the knees for a very different reason.

“Hey, Bobby,” Steve said cheerfully, “you weren’t going to hit someone because you’re too shit poor to buy your own weed, were you?”

Bobby looked down at the knife in Steve’s hands and then back up at his face. Bobby snarled and moved to wrench his hand out of Steve’s grasp, but the blade dug deeper. He stopped again and looked over at Eddie who was just as shocked he was at the whole thing.

Like where the fuck did Steve get that knife and why was he carrying it in the first place?

“You going to stick up for this trash, Harrington?” Bobby hissed. “Wheeler made you soft.”

Eddie and Steve both look down at the knife in Steve’s hand and then back up at the football player.

“Just because I’ve been putting my foot down more on the bullying lately,” Steve said, pressing the knife a little further causing Bobby to wince, “doesn’t mean that this is new. I’ve always called you assholes out on it, but now I’m doing something about it. So why don’t you run along and tell all your friends that the king has returned.”

Bobby’s eyes went wide and he nodded. Steve released the wrist first and then stepped back. He waved the knife, indicating Bobby should get a move on and he did. He ran like hell.

“Marry me!” Eddie squeaked as his knees buckled in relief.

Steve dropped the knife and surged forward to catch him before he hit the ground. Just then Jeff showed up and stared at them for a moment.

“Uhh...” he muttered. “Did I miss something?” His tongue worried one of the brackets on his braces as both Eddie and Steve turned to him.

Steve turned a bright shade of red when he realized how this might look to someone else. He helped Eddie get his feet under him and then took a step back. He ran his fingers through his hair and side-eyed Eddie.

“Maybe ask a guy on a date first, yeah?” he murmured before taking off, scooping up the knife up on his way out. Leaving behind two very confused metalheads in his wake.

Well, one confused metalhead and one confused and horny metalhead.

Jeff turned to Eddie. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” He jutted his thumb at the space in the trees that Steve had vanished into.

So Eddie told him.

“And um... I didn’t get my ass beat so...our King is some flavor of queer?” He meant that as a statement, but it came out as more of a question, because holy fuck that was crazy to think about.

Jeff looked at him for a long moment. “I understand you are currently having a gay panic right now, but um...shouldn’t you be more concerned with the fact that he had that knife on him in the first place? Because seriously, does Steve Harrington seem the type to be carrying around any kind of weapon?”

Eddie blinked a couple of times before he turned to look down the path both jocks had taken with a tinge more fear then he had before.

“That is a fair question, Sir Jeffrey,” he agreed. “But as it has saved this lowly jester’s ass, let’s give our king a pass, shall we?”

Jeff licked his lips slowly and then nodded. Because whatever happened to Steve that frightened him enough to start carrying a knife to school with him, he would much rather not know.

~

News spread fast. Steve Harrington was not to be trifled with and if you were caught bullying, he would make it his problem.

The faculty noticed, because how could they not. When someone makes it their one man mission to make the school safe for everyone, it wasn’t hard to see the changes wrought.

Only soon it wasn’t just Steve. The group that had included Nicole, Tina, Carol, and Tommy H. who were once the worst of the worst would patrol the halls between classes.

Eddie and his band of Freaks and Nerds were more than a little shocked when they were included in the protection. Because let’s face it, even other marginalized groups tended to push him and his friends around.

Well they tried. A couple of well aimed punches and threats of not selling to them or their friends usually got them to back off. But this was real protection, not just a cat puffing up his fur to look bigger and meaner than he was.

Hawkins High had an honest to Satan knight protectorate. Fuck.

Eddie thought those were only existed in fantasy novels and D&D campaigns. And if there was a gang of knights errant in Eddie’s next campaign with the names, Thom, Stephan, Nicolette, Caroline, and Christina, that was between him and the members of the Hellfire Club and no one else.

He thought he was going to catch shit for that from his friends, but apparently Sir Steve had won over their hearts as well.

However it was only a matter of time before the bullies got creative. Because some people just like to torture they find inferior.

They would hip check their targets into the lockers, always with a “Whoops!” and a sneer. They would knock their shoulders into them with a “Watch it!” and a smirk. They would whack books and lunch trays out their hands with a “Sorry...” and a grin.

Steve’s merry band would always check on the victim, but they really couldn’t say shit, because it could have been an accident. Though really, they weren’t fooling anyone but the teachers.

Eddie could see it coming to a head sooner rather than later and god, he hoped he got to witness it first hand.

~

Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @gringa-rae-jepsen @bluelightsinthevoid @mamafaithful @allmyworldsendwithtears @xxbottlecapx

10- @sadisticaltarts @yeahhhh-suga @ohimamarigold @imamixofeverthing @samsoble

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Who Dares Summon Me: Human Vaggie & Charlie

Vaggie: (sitting in the living room of a piece of shit apartment and reading from a "demon summoning" book. the sound of gunfire and police sirens barely even registers to her ears anymore)

Vaggie: Okay, so I got the Pentagram, a goat (glances at two goat plushies she stole from a name brand toy store) Fuckers will live..... they make millions in a day.

Vaggie: Candles... (glances at the Bath & Body Works, cinnamon and vanilla scented candles)

Vaggie: And... blood.... uh.... (Looks at the bucket filled with water, corn syrup, red food coloring, and cocoa powder to help create a blood effect) Fuck... demons can tell the difference between real and fake blood, right? Dammit.

Vaggie: (cuts her finger with her pocket knife and lets] a few drops fall into the bucket) There. That should work. Now, let's see-

Lute: (comes out of her room half naked and throws a pair of panties at Vaggie) Yo, Vagina! Adam stole your underwear again as a prank, I guess. Here.

Vaggie: (gawks as she catches the garment and spikes it to the floor) Lute! What the fuck?! Can't you control your fucking boyfriend??? How did he even get into my room?! I keep it locked for that reason.

Lute: (grabs a beer out of the fridge, pops the cap off on the counter, starts chugging, and flips off Vaggie as she returns to her room for whatever round she and Adam are on)

Vaggie: Sick perverted sons of bitches... (turns back to the book) Read the forbidden script and make a pact. (Scoffs) Okay, edge lords. I'll give it a go.

Vaggie: (recites the script with some difficulty)

..........

Vaggie: (relaxes her back against the couch) Can't say I'm surprised. I literally bought this online for six-

-Fire tornado erupts from the Pentagram and burning red eyes stare down at Vaggie from the inferno-

Demon Charlie: WHO dares summon the powerful Princess of Hell- Oh, fuck!!! (Trips over the bucket and falls face first into Vaggie's lap, revealing that she is wearing a red dress with black thigh high stockings)

Vaggie: Jesus Fucking Christ!!!

Demon Charlie: (face still pressed against Vaggie's crotch) You have a very comfortable lap.

Vaggie: (grabs demon's horns and pulls her up so they're sitting in front of each other) You're actually a demon?

Demon Charlie: (blinks) Considering the fact that you're still holding my horns, I have this adorable little tail (waves her heart-shaped tail in hello), and I came straight up from Hell because of your summoning circle. Yup! (Sees the plushies and gasps) Oh! You even gave Razzle and Dazzle their own conduits! You're so sweet!

Vaggie: ...........Who?

Demon Charlie: Razzle and Dazzle! You know. My pets. It's written in chatper six, paragraph five, sentence three. (Snaps her fingers and the two goat plushies turn into two living goat demons with wings)

Vaggie: (scouring the book) What?!

Demon Charlie: (snuggling her boys) Also, I know you had to use a little of your own blood to make this work, which I promise to help heal that cut on your finger by the way, but Thank You So Much for just using fake blood! I always feel so bad when people actually use a bucket of real blood. I usually let my dad take those summonings.

Vaggie: (glances at the bucket rolling across the floor then back to the demon) Y-Youre dad?

Demon Charlie: Lucifer, the King of Hell. (Light bulb goes off) Oh! I never completed my introduction! I'm Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell and heir to the throne. Pleased to meet you!

Vaggie: Uh.... Vaggie.... I never would have expected the Princess of Hell to be so..... bubbly....

Demon Charlie: I get that a lot. Now! What can I do for you? How can I help? Do you need money? Power? A soul you'd like for me to devour?

Vaggie: N-No... nothing quite like that....

Demon Charlie: Oh, thank Satan! I hate eating souls. Most of them taste so bad!

Vaggie: Uh-huh.... Well.... I don't really have anything for you. I got bored and decided I'd try this out...

Demon Charlie: (disappointed) Really? But you sold me your virginity. Surely, there's something you want in exchange!

Vaggie: I'm sorry. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

Demon Charlie: Drop of virgin blood and (holds up Vaggies lavender panties) an article of clothing that covers your most intimate desire.

Vaggie: (silently screaming)

Demon Charlie: H-Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still a virgin, too! (Under her breath) Not from lack of trying on other asshole's accunts, but still....

Vaggie: Ay, Dios mio!

Demon Charlie: Well, I can't take your payment until you come up with something you want, soooooooo! (Transforms into a human)

Charlie: (snuggles up to Vaggie's side) I'll just have to stay here with you until you come up with something!

Vaggie: (catatonic)

[talaok]

The world needs more daddy Pedro with a baby/toddler

pairing: dad!Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: I wrote this for the sole purpose to stop crying cause like get a grip girl and it didn't even work so yup... enjoy. (Also, I 100% agree bestie)

You woke up gasping for air, your baby's cries sounding through the baby monitor doing a damn good job at interrupting your sleep for the third time tonight.

You let out a breathy grunt as you turned to your side.

Pedro was looking at you, for some god-forsaken reason, with a smile pulling at his lips.

Of course he would find the silver lining in all this.

"I'll go" you whispered

"no, don't worry"

"Baby you already went twice" you protested

"It's fine, really" 

again, another smile.

"u sure?" you asked, secretly praying to whoever was listening that he was, in fact, sure.

"I'm sure mama" he nodded, kissing your forehead "You stay here and rest"

"alright" you sniffled, not even trying to fight the yawn climbing your throat "Thank you baby"

He got up from the bed, glancing at you one more time before quietly walking out of the room.

...

He didn't need to turn on the lights, he would have known how to get to his daughter's room with his eyes closed by now.

He was the one who got up to check on her most of the times, and there were two main reasons why:

The first one was that he had never been much of a sleeper, so anytime she started crying, chances were, he had already been awake.

But the second, and perhaps most important one, was that he didn't mind, hell, actually, he loved it. He treasured that moment, the feeling of holding his own child (yes it still felt weird to say), of hearing her breathe, sensing her tiny heartbeat, watching as the eyes she had inherited from her mother struggled to remain open... it filled his chest with something so powerful he had no idea how to describe it, it was just- it was pure joy, pure love.

And this time was no different.

He gently picked the tiny creature screaming at the top of her lungs up and out of the crib, holding her in his arms as if she were a lost treasure.

"hey angel" he cooed, softly bouncing her to try and soothe her 

"what's wrong?" he murmured, tenderly stroking her head "Tell daddy what's wrong"

"Are you hungry?" he asked mostly himself "No you can't be hungry, now I fed you an hour ago"

"nope you don't even need to change your diaper" he concluded after examining her

"what is it then sweetpea?" he murmured, drowning in her big beautiful eyes.

God, he had the most perfect baby ever

"you had a bad dream, is that it?"

"I'll tell you what, how 'bout we sit here," he said, as he took a seat on the armchair next to the crib "and I sing you a song huh? You liked that last time"

"yeah?" he smiled, watching her studying his face as if she was waiting for him to start.

She was already starting to calm down.

He had that effect on her.

"then get ready pumpkin"

...

"what are you doing?" you murmured, watching your husband holding your sleeping daughter.

You had come looking for him when you realized his side of the bed was empty.

"I don't want to wake her up" he explained

You smiled as you took in the image.

He was watching her as if she was gonna disappear any second now.

Without a second thought, you pulled the other arm-chair in the room right beside the one Pedro was sitting on.

"What are you doing?"

"There's no way I'm letting you sleep here alone" 

He beamed as he watched you sit down next to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, his scent wrapping around you ever so quickly, as you both looked down at your daughter.

Tiny breaths were fleeing her tiny lips as she slept soundly.

"she's perfect" you smiled

"she is" he agreed, resting his own head on top of yours.

"I love you y'know?" he murmured, after a moment of silence "I love you two more than anything in this world"

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt and your heart threatened to burst.

"Me too honey" you promised "more than anything in this world"