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gigabyte-flare · 2 days
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The Devil is Real (Part 3)
Part 1 Part 2
Summary: Having been infected with god knows what, you quickly discover the cult's plans for you.
Word Count: 2.7k
Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, exhibition, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]
A/N: Did I listen to Take me Back to Eden on loop while writing this? Yes. Yes I did.
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You feel like you’re floating; floating in complete darkness. You open your mouth to scream, expecting water to rush in, but that doesn’t happen. However, when you do try to scream, nothing comes out. Your head is pounding, like hands are holding your head and squeezing. Your eyes start to sting as you look up, seeing fractures of blue light break through the darkness, reminiscent of light passing through water.
Through the dark, you could hear muffled sounds. It takes a few moments to realize that the sounds were a voice and with each passing moment, the voice became clearer. Looking ahead of you now, you can see a shape approaching you, a strange sense of calm washing over you as it gets closer.
“That’s it, little bird. You’re doing so well.”
Leon…?
Now standing inches from you, Leon brings a hand to cup the side of your neck before gliding it upwards to caress your cheek. You note the black veins sprawling across his skin, staining the whites of his blue eyes. His hand snakes to the back of your head, gently coaxing you closer to kiss you tenderly on your forehead.
Leon whispers, his lips caressing your skin, “wake up, little bird.”
You jolt yourself awake, your whole body sweating profusely as you sit up from the ground, the sounds of footsteps reverberating from above. The next thing you hear is the trap door being flung open, followed by someone climbing down the ladder, led by a torch. You watch as the unmistakable looming figure of Father Méndez coming out from around the corner. You press yourself up against the wall as Méndez stands above you.
Without warning, he bends down, grabbing you by the throat and lifts you up off the ground. You weakly swing your legs in a pathetic attempt to kick at him as you bring your hands up to his large hand wrapped around your neck. As you gag and continue to struggle, Méndez brings the torch close to your face and you watch as a smirk crosses his lips.
“Excelente… your blood has accepted the gift.” he says before abruptly dropping you, “Lord Saddler estará muy contento.”
As you lay there on the ground, coughing, Méndez once again bends down, this time grabbing you by your arm and pulling you up onto your feet. He practically drags you to the ladder, motioning for you to climb it. You obey, hoisting yourself up the ladder. The moments between getting pulled out of that basement and when you’re brought to the church are a blur. You suddenly find yourself in the upper levels of the church, face to face with a very plain looking wooden door.
Méndez opens the door, shoving you inside the room. You stumble inside, your shoulder crashing into the brick wall. You watch Méndez step inside, pulling another hypodermic needle out from his coat.
“No!” you scream, pressing your back up against the wall, “please don’t!”
“Don’t struggle,” Méndez says as he approaches you, grabbing you by your shoulder before jabbing the needle into the side of your neck, pushing the mysterious liquid inside you, “this will make you nice and fertile for our lord.”
Fertile?!
Once again you feel the burning warmth of whatever it is Méndez just injected into you spread across your neck. He puts the needle back into his coat pocket before turning to leave, slamming the wooden door shut. You hear the lock engage, the sounds of his boot steps quickly following. It’s now eerily silent, with only your own thoughts as your company. At least what you first thought was your own thoughts. You can’t shake the constant whispering of something; almost like something was inside your brain. You grasp the sides of your head, desperately trying to will it to stop. However, your efforts are futile; the whispers only get worse and clearer by the minute. 
That’s nothing compared to the sudden onset of the most intense horniness you have ever experienced. No doubt fueled by whatever Méndez had injected you with. No matter what you did, you couldn’t escape the feeling of your arousal building in your core, the slick gathering between your legs, the dull ache of your breasts and a single word being repeated over and over in your head.
Breed.
Breed.
BREED.
Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you curl yourself in the corner of the small room, your arms hugging your legs as your body violently trembles in need. Eventually you start sobbing, your violent cries echoing in the small room and in the church beyond, you reckon. Your fingers dig into the floor, digging so hard that your fingernails break and your nail beds bleed; you can’t help but notice the inky veins that are pulsating under your skin, only getting darker with each passing moment.
You just want it to stop. Even death would be kinder than this torture your own body is putting you through. The door abruptly opens, startling you. You gasp, sitting up and pressing yourself against the wall as Méndez steps back into the room.
“El tiempo ha llegado.”
Two women step into view from behind Méndez wearing dirty white dresses with white hoods pulled over their heads, covering their faces completely. They approach you, grasping you gently by both of your arms and forcing you to stand. To your horror they begin to undress you. You try to fight them off, but Méndez’s booming command stops you, your body shaking in terror as the women continue to strip your clothes until you’re completely nude. 
Looking down, you see your entire body is covered in those black veins, feeling like a thousand insects are crawling beneath your skin. Méndez turns to leave the room again, motioning to you and the servants to follow. You suck in a breath when you see the entire congregation seated in the church, candles burning everywhere, the large stained glass covering the gathering in blues, greens and reds. 
Méndez leads you and the servants between the pews to the altar. One of his large fingers points to the altar before he addresses the servants, “Asegúrala al altar, entonces el ritual puede comenzar.”
The servants nod before they lead you to the altar, forcing you to lay upon it. They then shackle your wrists, then position your legs so that they are propped up with your knees bent, your legs spread before shackling your ankles, too. You turn your head, seeing your brother seated in the closest pew to the altar. His skin has the black veins, too. You can’t help but weep, tears streaming down the sides of your face.
“Vince… please help me…” you say softly, hoping he’ll hear you.
Your brother doesn’t acknowledge you, doesn’t even make eye contact with you, which only breaks your heart even further. The sound of the church doors opening causes you to shift your gaze. A man wearing a dark purple robe has entered, carrying a large staff which you come to realize has tentacle-like things squirming all over it. He begins to approach the altar, to which you notice another robed figure walking behind him; you assume it’s Leon. The purple robed man walks around to stand behind the altar, Leon, following close behind before stopping to stand slightly behind him.
The purple robed man outstretched his arms, “my brothers and sisters! How long have we waited for this day to come?”
“Too long, Lord Saddler,” you hear the congregation say softly in response, their voices echoing through the church.
So this is their elusive leader…
Saddler then looks down at you, allowing you to get a better look at his face under his hood; his skin decrepit and the irises of his eyes a pale white. A devilish smirk crosses his lips as he gazes down at your nude form.
“I am Lord Saddler, the leader of this lovely religious community. I must thank your brother for bringing you to us, for ensuring the next generation of our group.”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, pulling on your restraints. 
“I need an heir,” Saddler explains, “and you are going to carry that seed now that your blood has accepted our gift.”
Immediately knowing the implications of his words, you struggle violently against your restraints, screaming and crying, the thought of Saddler even touching you filling you with absolute dread. Saddler watches your futile struggles for a moment before letting out a booming laugh.
“Oh my sweet little lamb, there’s no need to worry. Performing the act of coitus is beneath me.”
You stop struggling, breathing heavily as relief washes over you. That is short lived, however, once Saddler continues.
“The honor of planting the seed of my heir will go to Leon,” Saddler says, his free hand gesturing to Leon, who steps towards the altar.
The two servants from earlier step to either side of Leon, gently removing his robe, revealing his shirtless form; his skin also covered in the same black veins everyone else has and a loose fitting piece of black fabric wrapped around his waist. One of the servants picks up a large bowl filled with a red liquid, most likely blood. She dips her fingers into it, stepping up to Leon and painting the strange cross symbol onto his bare chest before stepping away, the bowl still in her hands.
Leon steps towards the altar, his fingers quickly removing the fabric covering his loins. You watch as his hardened member springs up, slapping his stomach. The tip is red and angry, leaking pre-cum and also covered in black veins. The servant carrying the bowl, steps towards Leon again, and you watch as he then dips his fingers into the liquid, then reaching down to your lower stomach, painting that cross symbol onto it. His blue eyes look into yours, a smirk crossing his lips.
Just keep your eyes on me. Pretend no one else is even here with us.
You could have swore he spoke, however his lips definitely didn’t move. He brings his fingers to your throbbing cunt, his fingers running through your soaked folds, causing you to flinch and whimper. You watch his smirk evolve into a devilish smile, his hand wrapping around his rock hard member, lining it up to your entrance. Once pushing the head in, he rests his hands on your folded knees, then thrusting himself inside you, causing you to cry out. 
You twist your wrists in your restraints as he moves his hips, the angle of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. Your eyes widen, an animalistic moan escaping your lips as you ball your fists, your breasts bouncing rhythmically as Leon pounds into you. He reaches both hands to grasp your breasts, kneading them in his hands and stroking his thumbs over the hardening buds of your nipples. 
The congregation then begins to chant, “Gloria a Las Plagas.”
“Oh my god, your cunt is so perfect,” Leon softly moans as he leans his head back, closing his eyes as he picks up the pace on his thrusts.
Your walls flutter around his cock, your legs starting to tremble as your release quickly approaches. As if sensing this, Leon turns his head and snaps at one of the servants.
“¡Quítate esos malditos grilletes de tobillos!” he growls, still aggressively fucking into you as he digs his fingers into your thighs for support. 
The servants obey, each going on either side of the altar and unlocking the restraints on your ankles. Once those are removed, Leon wastes no time folding you into a mating press, his face now hovering within inches of yours.
“You’re doing so good,” he whispers, his lips brushing yours as he speaks, “taking me so well, my little bird.”
That nickname causes your walls to squeeze around his length as it bullies your cervix, powerful moans pouring from your lips before Leon kisses you, his hungry lips devouring yours. As he begins to thrust into you harder and faster, the chanting of the congregation becomes louder until it is booming through the whole church.
Leon’s thrusts start to become erratic, and with one final thrust, he pushes himself into you as hard and as deep as he can go, his cock throbbing in you as he fills you to the brim with his seed. This triggers your own orgasm, you scream as your body violently convulses. Your eyes roll into the back of your head just as the chanting of the congregation reaches its crescendo.
“¡GLORIA A LAS PLAGAS!”
Coming down from your release, your head begins to spin, tumbling towards unconsciousness. The last thing you see is the twisted grin on Saddler’s face. 
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Caging you with his body, Leon gazes down at your unconscious form, watching your chest gently rise and fall with each breath you take. His own breaths are heavy, his hips still flush against yours as his cock begins to soften inside you. He gently strokes your face with his fingers. He then presses his forehead with yours, closing his eyes as he tries to reach your mind with his plaga’s abilities.
My precious little bird…
“Well done, Leon,” Saddler’s voice breaks Leon from his concentration, severing the connection from his mind to yours, “a truly passionate display. There’s no doubt that the seed will quicken.”
A low growl emanates from the back of Leon’s throat. He then crawls off you, slowly unsheathing himself from your warm heat. A slight smirk appears across his lips as he watches his cum leak from your abused hole. One of the servants drapes his robe back over his body while the other ties the piece of black fabric around his waist that he had removed himself earlier.
He watches as Saddler steps around the altar to stand in front of it, glaring at him once he’s out of Saddler’s line of sight. Saddler outstretches his arms once more and begins to address the congregation. 
“My brothers and sisters! The seed of my heir has been planted. My future Queen will be brought to Castle Salazar, where she will be trained in our ways…”
Saddler continues to speak, however Leon has stopped listening, his gaze shifting back to you. The servants are now undoing the restraints on your wrists as a couple of the Ganados, including your brother, approach with a crudely made stretcher, lifting your limp body from the altar to carry you away on it. Leon’s eyes remain locked on you until you are whisked out of the church.
Castle Salazar is an imposing structure nestled in the cliffs just outside of Valdelobos, it’s castellano the ever so infuriating Ramón Salazar. Once Saddler relieved Leon of his post, he made his way over to the castle where you are being kept to monitor your pregnancy and to mold you into the perfect “queen” for Saddler. Having allowed himself to transform, Leon begins to scale the castle walls as he follows the sense of your presence, his four back claws making easy work of scaling the wall while his long, scorpion-like tail helps to balance him as he climbs. His clawed fingers dig into the stone until he reaches an open window, vaulting himself onto the window sill, bent on his haunches. 
His heart races as he gazes upon you; your nude form under the safety of plush blankets. You are sleeping soundly, no doubt spent from being bred by Leon. Saddler had said coitus was beneath him, however, Leon knows the truth. The countless years of Saddler experimenting on himself rendered him infertile, hence why Leon was tasked with impregnating you. 
Leon silently climbs into the window, approaching the side of your bed before he gingerly sits down next to you, careful to not wake you. His ocean eyes gaze at you longingly as his clawed fingers gently comb your disheveled hair away from your face. Even though you’re sleeping, he can feel the connection the two of you have and as the plaga inside you grows, that connection will only become stronger. 
Saddler may have plans for you, but Leon has his own.
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flokali · 3 days
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𓂆 | Write for Gaza
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. . . . .
𓄷 Note: As a member of the Palestinian diaspora, I feel like this is the least I could do to help my people back in our beloved homeland. After 76 years of silence from the world, please do not look away and do not keep quiet – you can make a difference, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Due to the nature of the blog, I ask that you be at least 18 years old before requesting or interacting.
You can use the following links to pick a fundraiser of your choice to donate to: palestinescharitycomissionassoc, palestinian-fundraising, Hussein’s Masterpost and GazaFunds.
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𓄷 Rules:
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iv. I am not making any money from this, the money is to be donated to a vetted fundraiser directly. I am not an intermediary but serve as an added bonus to donating.
v. Donations made to “Khaled and His Family” will be prioritised.
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𓄷 Sponsor a WIP:
𓂃 $1 USD equals to 100-150 words; therefore, 500 words is $5 USD and so on.
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[If the SF is paid and the donor wants 1.5k words added, they’ll have to add $5, making the total $15].
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. . .
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[A request for three characters and 1k words would total $11 USD ; Example: “How would Kaeya, Diluc and Albedo react to a Reader who is cold?” + “1k words” *A request for a one shot does not have the “Additional Character Fee”]
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𓄷 WIP
—#๋࣭. I love you, I Own you ; Part 3
Final part to the “ILYIOY” series, meant to tie up the story and finish telling what happens to Reader’s family, Reader herself, and Childe’s feelings about what he’s done.
Current word count: 600~ words • Estimated word count: 9k words
Sponsored:
—#๋࣭. Deus Vult ; Reworked (Part 1)
A complete rewriting and restructuring of my first fic on the blog, it’ll be longer and more thorough; after almost 2 years on the blog, if not more, I have mulled over the concept many times and wished to redo it and give it a proper setting.
Current word count: 500~ words • Estimated word count: 6-9k words
—#๋࣭. Love Virus
Boothill fic where a pesky USB with a “love code” gets mistakenly used on him, as the doctor/programmer in charge with overseeing this mess – you find yourself the target of his newfound affection.
Current word count: 1,700~ words • Estimated word count: 6k words
Sponsored:
—#๋࣭. 777
You’re one of the last remaining people of your species, now seen as a luxury to be passed around to the highest bidder. In a twist of fate, Aventurine finds himself with the key – or price – to your freedom, although he never fancied himself a hero he doesn’t mind the way you look at him as your saviour.
Current word count: 900~ words • Estimated word count: 4k word.
Sponsored: NSFW paid + 1k words — Remaining 3k~ words ; estimated.
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𓄷 Make a Requests :
—#๋࣭. I will write: yandere, non/dub con, most kinks, death, cnc, gore, cheating, peggings, dom/sub, etc. We can discuss more through message but I’m not open to debating on anything that is specified below;
—#๋࣭. I won’t write: Underage characters, bodily fluids (mainly piss nd scat), cxc, necrophilia, beastiality, unhygienic, vore, ddlg, etc.
. . .
—#๋࣭. Fandoms: Genshin Impact, Star Rail, DoL, Spy x Family, Tears of Themis, Enstars, Love and Deepspace, Wuthering Heights, Twisted Wonderland, Persona 5, Fire Emblem 3 Houses, Ikemen Villains, Identity V, A Date with Death, Chainsaw Man, Haikyuu!!, and What in Hell is bad?
* I’ll also accept unique OC’s made just for the request that you will be able to request for again in the future.
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The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 3
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Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.
Chap 1, Chap 2 , Chap 3 ,-
Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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You scoffed, “Are you willing to wait until school is over? As you can see, I have to teach my precious students.”
Bucky smirked. This was the first time you had seen him smile. You had to admit he was handsome. Victoria must be proud, as Bucky was way out of her league.
But you didn't want to get close to him since he was already your step-sister's fiancé. Perhaps he had the same character as her.
Bucky interrupted your thoughts, “You don't have to worry since the principal has given you permission to leave after this class.”
Unbeknownst to you, before he entered your class, Andre had brought him to the principal's office. Bucky had bribed the principal with cigars.
For the first time, Andre saw his principal, who usually wore a flat expression from the stress of dealing with delinquent students, laugh heartily as he picked up the cigars. “Haha… of course. Miss Sinclair needs a day off.”
Clueless about Bucky's deal with the principal, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the principal to give you a day off so easily.
Half a day without dealing with the delinquents wasn't a bad idea. As you rose from your seat, you issued a directive, "Fine. Let's go."
You pointed towards the hallway and added, "And stick close to me. It's like a jungle out there."
As Bucky followed behind you, he soon realized the context of your warning. The students erupted in cheers, though the intent behind their vocalizations remained ambiguous, potentially constituting either catcalls or attempts to provoke offense.
"You've got a rich sugar daddy, miss," one student jeered, while another offered unsolicited advice, "Dude, run while you still have the chance."
A misguided attempt at physical interaction occurred when one student attempted to bump into Bucky, prompting him to sidestep, causing the student to stumble and fall.
"Dude, what the heck?" the surrounding students exclaimed in confusion.
"Pardon me," Bucky politely interjected as he maneuvered away from the scene.
Observing the exchange, you addressed the student, Mark, with a pointed remark, "That's what you get."
In response, Mark displayed a gesture of defiance, raising his middle finger, to which you reciprocated in kind.
Witnessing the interaction between you and your students, Bucky noted your lack of fear, interpreting your demeanor as assertive and resilient.
“RINNNGG!”
Break time was over, and it was time for the students to return to their classrooms. However, none of them made a move.
You understood the reason; they knew you were leaving.
Standing near the school door, you raised your right arm and held up three fingers.
“If I count to three and you guys are still here, I'll make all of you fail my class,” you warned them, your tone firm and commanding.
“We'll make you viral, b*tch! This is unfair,” Mark protested.
“Try me. One…” You began the countdown, your voice echoing through the hallway, your expression steely.
Before you could even say “two,” the students scattered, rushing back to their classrooms in a panic.
Bucky watched in awe, though he didn't verbalize it. Instead, he gave you an impressed look, admiration evident in his eyes.
You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Like I said before, devil spawn.”
Bucky chuckled and held the door open for you, a gesture of respect and acknowledgment of your authority.
💋💋💋💋💋
He brings you to a luxurious café, seemingly inspired by Moroccan design. The place features intricate tiles, arched doorways, and rich colors. Elegant furniture, soft lighting, and comfortable seating create a warm atmosphere.
It had been a long time since you visited a place like this, reminiscent of times before you were kicked out by your stepmother.
Opting for the cheapest drink on the menu, you ordered a cold brew, not wanting to owe him anything more than necessary.
Your drink arrived promptly, and you tasted it. The taste of the coffee made you forget about the shitty cafeteria coffee you just had. Compared to you, who ordered a simple drink, Bucky's was unique.
His coffee was prepared right before him, with the server announcing, “We have prepared your coffee cup, sir.”
Bucky nodded graciously. “Thank you.”
“You're very welcome, sir,” the server replied before departing. “Enjoy.”
Bucky savored his coffee with an air of elegance, his movements precise and refined. You couldn't help but notice that he had been wearing leather gloves this whole time.
Taking a sip of your drink, you asked, “So… What do you want to talk about?”
Bucky set down his drink and met your gaze with his calm, cold demeanor.
“It's about last night,” he began, his expression unreadable as he spoke.
You grumbled, “Oh my god. Are you going to sue me for sexual harassment? I'm sorry. It's a bad habit of mine, doing something without thinking. Please don't sue me. I don't have the money to hire a lawyer.”
Bucky struggled to follow your rapid speech. “No, calm down. I won't sue you. It's just…” He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself.
Or did Victoria cry to Bucky and ask him to teach you a lesson? You couldn't help but wonder what he was going to say next.
“I have this disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). The symptoms include being overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch,” he explained, his gaze shifting to observe your reaction.
“No judgment here. I've encountered various cases of trauma from my students,” felt relieved a bit you reassured him, trying to offer some comfort.
“Thank you for understanding,” Bucky replied gratefully. “When someone touches me without my consent, I will vomit or I will faint.”
Your eyes widened in realization. “Shit.” Guilt washed over you as you began to fully comprehend the impact of your actions.
Bucky confessed, “The weirdest thing is, when you touched me, kissed me, my body didn't have any reaction.”
You lifted your head in confusion. “Huh?”
“I went to different psychologists, tried many medicines, doctors, meditations, but none of them worked. Except you. A stranger that I've never met,” Bucky elaborated.
“Are you sure?” you asked, still trying to process the revelation.
Bucky then removed his leather gloves and called the waitress over. “You. Come here.”
The waitress approached, curious about Bucky's request. “Yes, sir?”
Bucky extended his bare hand. “Shake my hand.”
The waitress, unsure of the situation, complied and shook Bucky's hand.
In an instant, Bucky grabbed a nearby bucket and began to vomit.
The waitress and you were both shocked. Bucky, who had been calm and composed moments ago, now appeared pale and sickly in just a matter of seconds.
Could what he said really be true?
Bucky wiped his mouth and apologized to the waitress, his tone sincere. “I'm sorry. Please don't be offended. It's not because of you. I hope the tips my secretary will give you could cheer you up.”
The waitress, still unsure of what just happened, responded hesitantly, “Ah, thank you?”
Bucky's secretary appeared seemingly out of nowhere and began conversing with the waitress, diverting her attention.
Left alone with Bucky, he raised his hand again, as if asking for your right hand. Confused, you offered your hand, which he gently took and held in his.
You thought it might have been a mistake, but Bucky showed no reaction. He closed his eyes, seemingly waiting for something to happen. There was no rapid heartbeat, no sweating, and no urge to vomit.
He opened his eyes and saw you looking thoughtful. “Thank you for your patience and trust.”
You replied, “Ehm, glad to help.”
“My predictions were correct. You could be the answer to my disorder. I will make you a generous offer,” Bucky stated. His voice tone sounded like happiness is in it.
"Really?" You could ask for money for your grandmother's surgery. After you were kicked out of the house, you lived with your grandmother from your mother's side. After your mother died, your father stopped sending money to your grandmother.
Bucky nodded, his expression serious.
You hesitated. "Wait. Does Victoria know about this?"
Bucky shook his head. “Besides my parents, only you know about this.”
“Both of you are going to get married, and you didn't want to share the truth?” you questioned. Poor Victoria, the man she will marry, has a cold heart.
You were supposed to be the bad guy, glad that she would receive her karma. But why did this remind you of something?
He went silent. The thought of marriage with Victoria irked Bucky. He pulled on his leather hand gloves again and rested his hand on the table. He looks like he's discussing a business deal worth billions.
“The truth is, I saw this marriage as a business deal. I don't have the desire to have a heart-to-heart conversation with your stepsister. And from what I've seen of her, it's better if I don't talk to her about my disorder,” Bucky explained.
His tone was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. No wonder the Barnes family had been successful conglomerates for so long—they knew how to get what they wanted.
But there was something you didn't agree with. “I want to help you,” you stated.
Bucky visibly lightened up at your words.
You crossed your arms tightly, a frown creasing your brow. “But after what you said to hide it from your fiance, you reminded me of my father. A man of few words. A hero in business, but a failure in family.”
Your father, Jonathan, lived and breathed for money. He left everything about the household to your mom, while the families’ businesses thrived. But after your mother died, her family's business went bankrupt, and he didn't offer much help.
You didn't want to assist another man who reminded you of your dad.
Placing a dollar bill on the table to pay for your drink, you stood up abruptly. “I hope you find a cure, but I won't be the one to help you. Thank you and goodbye.” You grabbed your coat and started walking away.
Bucky hadn't expected you to reject him. And what's more outrageous is you're comparing him with your father. Bullshit.
He scoffed, his fingers tapping the table in frustration. No one had ever said no to him before.
He turned around and saw your back. “What if I raise my offer? Your childhood home and Velari into your hands?”
Your foot stopped before you reached the door. How did he know your deepest desire? The home you got kicked out of was the treasure from your mom. That beautiful home was designed by her; she was a designer.
And Velari, the fashion brand built by your mother, was now occupied by Celestial Enterprises, owned by Genevieve. It was your birthright to inherit your mother's work, but that other woman and her devil spawn were able to kick you out.
Lost in your daydream, you didn't realize Bucky was standing before you. “Do you like that deal?”
You lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a hint of mischief in your eyes. A sly smile played on your lips as you reached out and gently took his hand in yours.
Bucky felt a sudden surge of heat as your fingers intertwined with his.
You lifted his leather-clad right hand and brought it closer to your lips. Gently, you pressed a kiss against it. "With an offer like that, I might just be tempted to give you more than just my hand."
The gesture made Bucky shiver, though he didn't feel any disgust. This feeling was completely different from what he experienced last night.
From this moment, he knew you're a natural seducer, and he was playing with fire.
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Author Note: I had goosebumps writing the last part. I hope you like this chapter. 💓💋
Taglist:
@thezombieprostitute
@thetravelingtyper
@scott-loki-barnes
@mostlymarvelgirl
@chemtrails-club
@dexter99
@seresingirlie
@missvelvetsstuff
@kjah97
@tfatwsoldir
@itsteambarnes
@toldyouitwasamelodrama
@sapphirebarnes
@thedonswife13
@angelbabyyy99
@cjand10
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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nyoomerr · 1 hour
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Normally, the community of Proud Immortal Demon Way can hardly be called as such. To call PIDW readers a ‘fandom’ would be akin to calling everyone who visited the same porn site a family. PeerlessCucumber is a loud exception, but in the end he’s still only an exception - by and large, people reading PIDW know exactly what they’re there for, and it certainly isn’t for any sense of shared enjoyment or community.
The community of people following PeerlessCucumber himself, however, is a whole different story.
PeerlessCucumber is the asshole single handedly responsible for at least seven different copypastas, the rich bastard that will pay an artist’s rent for a single picture of Luo Binghe if only the artist can tolerate his demands for constant revisions, the dictionary definition of an anti-fan.
He is also blissfully unaware of the absolute glee in which people take in riling him up. And in the age of the modern internet, nothing brings a group of strangers together like the opportunity to poke fun of a guy like that.
“How do I look?” HualingsWife whispers to her companions. They take a moment to scrutinize her, gaze lingering around her chest.
“I don’t know,” SwordsOfCultivators says, “I think the guy ahead of you let his robes drape open further.”
HualingsWife rolls her eyes. “If I let my robes drape open that far, I’d be disqualified - you know the rules are different for men.”
“It’s not like you’re looking to win, though,” XuanyuMeat says. “And the open chest is clearly effective.”
The three of them pause, turning to look at the stage from their spot in the wings. The competitor that came before HualingsWife is running through a series of poses that are slowly but surely allowing his robes to slip ever wider. 
Two of the judges are watching with thinly veiled amusement - after several years of this tradition, they’ve gotten used to the chaos that PeerlessCucumber’s fans bring to these cosplay competitions. 
The third judge is PeerlessCucumber himself, and he looks like he might be experiencing a serious health condition. A serious mental health condition, to be clear.
“- robes of inferior make! Binghe’s exposure is always purposeful, and artful, and it wouldn’t be because he was wearing robes that didn’t fit him! If you don’t care about dressing true to his character -!”
“Hm,” SwordsOfCultivators hums. “Is it just me, or is Peerless not being as harsh as he usually is? Do you think he’s finally losing some of his obsession with Luo Binghe?”
“He better not!” HualingsWife cries. “I’ve put way too much time and money into working on a cosplay for that awful porn book for him to lose interest right when I get my chance to join the torturing-Peerless-fun!”
“No, no,” XuanyuMeat says, shaking their head. “You heard his rants for the Luo Binghe cosplayers one through four - he was especially cruel to them! Look at his face now, that isn’t the face of someone losing interest!”
They turn back to the stage. Luo Binghe cosplayer number five - likely DickBiggerThanBinghe, if HualingsWife were to guess based on her limited interactions with him in the PeerlessWatchers discord chat - looks unbearably smug. His robes have fallen completely off his shoulders by now.
PeerlessCucumber, on the other hand, looks so red HualingsWife wouldn’t be surprised if she started seeing steam pouring out of his ears.
“Ah,” she says, understanding. “You think he’s recently finally realized his obsession with Luo Binghe isn’t that of a straight man’s?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him to get this flustered over a man’s exposed chest and still think it was caused purely by the outrage of seeing one of our ‘poorly done’ cosplays,” XuanyuMeat says wryly. They send HaulingsWife a pointed side eye. “So…”
“Oh yeah, I’m on it,” HualingsWife says, already loosening her robes further. “Just make sure to have the cameras ready to get the direct comparison of his reaction to a woman’s nip-slip versus the absolute conniption he’s going through now.”
“Please, he probably won’t even see it - he’ll probably get all awkward and look away like he does with any female cosplayer dressed in anything but a full body suit.”
“I think he’ll peek through his fingers anyway,” SwordsOfCultivators says gleefully. “He wouldn’t dare miss the chance to oggle another Luo Binghe cosplayer.”
On stage, DickBiggerThanBinghe finally waltzes off, having received his scoring from all three judges and a score from the back of the room where the group of PeerlessWatchers are sitting. 
After all, none of them are really here for the actual cosplay competition. They only care about one thing: whoever can get the highest scoring Peerless rant about their cosplay will pay for dinner for everyone that night. 
“Ohh, seven out of ten!” HualingsWife says, as the group PeerlessWatchers wave their scorecard around with glee. “The last time someone got scored that highly was when TofuBuns dared to cosplay as a half-dead Luo Binghe covered in wounds!”
“TofuBuns still has their display name set to ‘faithless mongrel undeserving of witnessing Binghes success’ in the discord server,” SwordsOfCultivators sighs. “I can only hope to one day trigger a Peerless rant so iconic.”
On stage, one of the judges glances down at the score sheet, sees that another Luo Binghe cosplayer is scheduled to come out next, and stifles a laugh before gesturing for HualingsWife to come on.
“No way I’m getting something that iconic my first try,” HualingsWife says, “but if I can get Peerless to make that hilarious choking noise he made the last time he saw a female-presenting Luo Binghe, I’ll count it as a win.”
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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... so what do we know about the Clash? (pt. 2)
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moving right along from part 1
WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS THROUGH EPISODE 5: HOTARUBI. PLEASE INTERACT WITH DUE CAUTION.
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The Laurel Crown is first referenced by Ritsu in Episode 4. It is an award given to the best performing house of the year at an event called the Darkwick Gala. Kaito says it is held one week before graduation, Ritsu says there are a lot of rewards given out to graduating winners. He also very specifically says that it is "the shortest path to success and independence from Darkwick for us ghouls." That word independence strikes me as important, though it is not followed up on here or elsewhere unless you count the discussion surrounding Article 78 in Episode 5. Ritsu thinks that Taiga was interested in it once upon a time due to his impressive mission completion record in his first year. We know Zenji wanted to win the crown to obtain recognition as an author, while most of the other ghouls we've met show a degree of disinterest or lack of knowledge of it. Ren mentions at the end of this conversation that he didn't know about the Gala, and Ritsu points out that despite being canceled it was never removed from last years schedule. It is not not this year's though, and he implies that Cornelius is covering something up. Which really does seem to be the case...
The Crown system was discontinued as a direct result of the Clash... we think. It is never explicitly stated "yeah the Clash happened so we aren't doing this anymore" it's instead alluded to as something they can't do because there are too many ghouls to control. We know it had to be this as Haku tells Zenji that it was discontinued after he died, and Zenji died during the Clash. According to Haku, he was killed by a rogue anomaly. He adamantly discourages MC from looking into the Clash gee why would you do that HAKU and this seems to be a similar stance to what Cornelius would take if he knew you were curious. Cornelius and Moby are reluctant to let Lyca free because "what if we have another case of a ghoul-" We can assume he is going to say "killing" or something along those lines based off the concerns listed about Lyca, but that's not confirmed.
Ritsu finds documents about the Clash in the school's archives. he finds them alongside disciplinary documents, he says he either overlooked them or someone had them checked out as he has not read them before. The file is thick and is specifically titled "The Clash: An Overview of Civil Affairs Instigated by Darkwick Students." The term "civil affairs" is interesting. As best I can tell it is a military term that refers to small scale missions undertaken by small teams that focus on civil action? Like diplomacy stuff? Or organizing humanitarian aid? And in more sinister scenarios to assist in psychological warfare to condition a population to not fight against your military but I don't know if that's what the translation team was going for here exactly. I think it's just meant to imply things got really bad and really violent.
Lastly, this is less easy to prove than some of the other things as fact but I still think it is one: there are hints of a split in the student body over who is pro-anomaly and anti-anomaly. Subaru is obviously very pro-anomaly and thinks that capturing them is cruel, Taiga seems to be pro eating anomalies while Romeo is very comfortable with catching them and collecting bounties. A lot of this seems to be tied to how they view the school, the Institute that runs it, and their place in that hierarchy. The one thing everyone seems to agree on is that they are trapped at Darkwick and don't want to be. At least not forever.
So to re cap all of the things we know to be fact: the Clash happened sometime last year, half a year ago at the absolute latest. The fight is thought to have been started by the ghouls, we do not know over what. The Laurel Crown system and the Darkwick Gala were both canceled after the fallout of the Clash, in which at least two named people are thought to have died: Zenji Kotodama who would have been a second year Hotarubi student and Dante whose former role is unknown. Zenji still resides in the school as a ghost, though this is unknown to Darkwick staff, and Dante has been brought on as a Professor. Also, all of the Inspectors seem to have quit at the end of the previous year due to the ghouls abusing mesmer matches on them. Three dormitories were disbanded at some point and one new one was created. We do not know if this was connected to the Clash or if it was an inciting incident for it, but at some point Clementia, one of those dormitories, was the scene of some sort of fight. Some of the students of Dionysia dorm went missing, presumably the ghouls. We know nothing about what happened to Ultio aside from the prison they were tasked with running now being run "by Darkwick." All general students from these dorms were re-assigned elsewhere, as were the general students previously assigned to Jabberwock who had general admissions halted. There is a spy amongst these ghouls who Taiga believes is intending to make them look bad; Alan and Tohma are attempting to isolate this spy. We do not know who this spy is spying for, or what Alan and Tohma want out of him exactly, nor do I really expect to find out anytime soon.
So. Now onto the Questions and Theories. As in things we can assume but cannot exactly prove:
Questions and Theories
Jiro and Zenji look extremely similar with a few noticeable differences, namely the piercings Jiro has and the glasses Zenji wears. My first thought was that maybe Jiro was made out of Zenji's corpse, but his birthday is listed as October 13th, which is not the middle of the year by any stretch. They also have different blood types; I think the most practical explanation comes from Zenji himself. When describing why he's so attached to the haunted doll you've found, he says it looks just like his brother did when he was a baby. I have some screenshots of Zenji following Jiro around in a campus event because he wants to help him find something he's looking for, so it does make a bit of sense. And make me even more sad.
The Institute that runs Darkwick seems to be deeply suspicious of ghouls and feel a need to keep them on a short leash. There is a great deal of distrust and resentment between the ghouls and the Institute, and the Clash seems to have been the result of that distrust. The thickness of the records Ritsu finds suggests to me that whatever the Clash was exactly, it took up most of the previous year and that it had something to do with Darkwick's treatment of anomalies.
On that point, I think that Clementia was likely destroyed by a rogue anomaly. The destruction MC sees is described as something going on a rampage, and not as a fight. The fight angle is still possible of course, and if that's the case I wonder if it has something to do with how Ultio was running the prison. I mentioned in the previous post that the goddesses these dorms are named after are meant to sort of balance each other out, so if there was going to be a clash of ideals between anyone on campus it'd probably be these guys.
I feel like Obscuary was set up as a result of the Clash? Or at the very least some time before it specifically so there would be some place for Rui and Ed to go. I think the dorm members will all be crossed with an anomaly in some way, Ed with a vampire, Rui with a reaper, and Lyca with a werewolf. Also, Ed is rumored to have done something. What? No fucking clue, don't even know if it's related to the Clash but still he has done something to get added into the rumor mill.
We don't know what Haku's stigma is as he didn't tell us. He also makes a point of saying that he thinks it's a good thing to get through a mission without using your stigma, if anything he seems to discourage the MC from using or relying on the ring to help the ghouls. You could see this as him trying to encourage her to value herself more, or maybe he thinks that there is a cost for using stigmas we don't know about just yet and they're not the blessings the ghouls think they are. Also he asks Cornelius if he has ever lied to him at the end of the chapter and if you think I didn't find that sus as all hell-
I need to sleep, but remind me to make a post about Haku sometime. Because I don't think he's evil exactly, but I do still think he's the spy.
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starg1rlie · 11 months
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BYF (Before You Follow)
I tend to do quite a bit of shit-posting (random, non-writing related; mostly art or sometimes funny posts / prompts / moot’s stuff), so don't come at me if you keep getting notifications about my blog reblogging random posts. If you don't like it, oh well. This is supposed to be my own personal space that makes me feel comfortable and have fun.
Writing is a hobby for me, NOT A JOB. Do not expect me to update just because a bunch of people are clamoring for it. I’ll do it in my free time and will. If I’m caught up with something, I’ll drop a notice, but I might work on it in between. I’m first and foremost a student. Remember that, please. I tend to update once every month, because I despise being rushed and deadlines. Depending on my mood and schedule, I might post every week or so.
I rant. A lot. So, just be prepared for it. Not only angry ranting, but like, fangirling/fanboying as well. So most of the time I might just be scream/crying about a favorite character/show of mine. If you’re into it, lmk, I love fellow ranters. We’ll have something to bond over!
I may come off as rude/cold or insensitive towards people, and I swear I am not trying to be mean, it’s just my personality. It’s, well, I guess you could say it’s a way of showing my affection towards people, including my family, friends, and fans. I might roast you someday, but don’t take it too seriously. It’s just to get a laugh from both parties. If I make you uncomfortable with any of my jokes/comments, let me know IMMEDIATELY. I am not out here to actively be rude towards people.
I follow adult/sometimes NSFW accounts. I might also reblog a few of the authors’ contents, so if you’re underage or are simply uncomfortable/triggered by that sort of thing, please properly block according tags (‘suggestive’ & ‘nsfw’)
This account will be mainly run by me (Leo), but my friend, Hyo-kun, also works on here, so it’s like a dual personality. It’d be funny if my moots can try and see who’s on the account judging by the way we talk, lmao.
As of 2023, I now block any and all blank blogs that interact and/or follow me. Please, for the love of God, it doesn’t take too much of your time to decorate your blog. Otherwise, I can never tell if you’re a bot or a real person.
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DNI (Do Not Interact)
Basic dni criteria
Toxicity/drama inducers
Consumers/writers of non-consensual content, be it sfw/nsfw
Romanticizes of toxic relationships
TERFs (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist)
If you spam like/reblog on posts
Blogs that are: homophobic, transphobic (including people who discriminate those who identify as “illegitimate” identities), ableist, racist, sexist, pedophilic/MAP (Minor attracted persons)/lolicons, and/or incestual
Consumers/writers of dead dove: do not eat content or any of the above content
K-Pop/DSMP stans
Anti-multiship, proshippers, LGBTQ+ fetishizers, radfems (radical feminists)
Basic dni criteria
Toxicity/drama inducers
Consumers/writers of non-consensual content, be it sfw/nsfw
Romanticizes of toxic relationships
TERFs (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist)
If you spam like/reblog on posts
Blogs that are: homophobic, transphobic (including people who discriminate those who identify as “illegitimate” identities), ableist, racist, sexist, pedophilic/MAP (Minor attracted persons)/lolicons, and/or incestual
Consumers/writers of dead dove: do not eat content or any of the above content
K-Pop/DSMP stans
Anti-multiship, proshippers, LGBTQ+ fetishizers, radfems (radical feminists)
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Today is the 1st of August, which is also National Girlfriend Day! Or at least, it is where I live, haha.
Therefore, I wanted to give a big shoutout to the selfshippers to whom this day applies, whether you have any romantic F/Os you call your girlfriend, or are a girlfriend to any of your romantic F/Os. (Or, like me, both!)
Today is your day, so I hope that you have a wonderful day today!~ ^-^
(None of this post applies to proshippers, discriminatory people - ableists, racists, etc. - or anyone else my DNI (linked here; please read) applies to.)
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enluv · 11 months
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before I post my jay fic, I want to say that it is going to be classified as 16+ because it has suggestive themes, this also makes me want to remind you all that I ask that you be +15 if interacting with me and that anyone under that age does not interact with me !! I’m 19, which means an adult so interacting with anyone -15 makes me uncomfortable!
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2-wuv · 2 years
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from now on if people do not like our pinned before following i will Assume they have not read it and will softblock .
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arklayraven · 2 months
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If you follow me here but I block ya from my side blog(s) because you don't have your age on your blog or such.
sorry, but you know the rules there. :/
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anxiousbabybird · 4 months
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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged HCs
I started Love and Deepspace yesterday so please have my slightly unhinged HCs for the men so far. And minors don’t you dare interact
Part 2
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Rafayel
He’s a biter. Leaves you covered in marks from your neck all the way down your thighs.
Plans a date where he’s laid out a huge canvas on the floor of his studio, puts your fave color paint on your hands and his favorite color on his hands, plus several globs of the two colors across the canvas, and then proceeds to have the wildest three rounds of sex on that canvas as it gets progressively more covered in paint. Sells the painting for 6 figures a few weeks later and uses it as an excuse that you need to make more of them.
Tells you his best masterpiece is painting your body with his cum—got really into it once and dipped the paint brush into your cunt to collect his cum and then painted it across your breasts
Has a secret sketch book that’s nothing but pictures of you. Lots of them are of you sleeping when he can study your features but there’s still quite a few he drew from memory.
Made you lay down naked with your legs spread and be still so he could draw the most detailed image of your pussy you could possibly imagine. It’s his personal fave that no one besides him will ever see.
Sees shibari as a beautiful art form and likes to practice with you—has a whole album in his phone just of pics of you tied up all pretty for him
Rarely gets soft in a serious way, he much prefers the teasing back and forth you two usually have.
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Xavier
He’s definitely broken into your room Edward Cullen style and watched you sleep
His favorite dates are taking you into the forest at night to watch the stars and moon together. Bonus points if you come across a wanderer and get to fight together.
Clingy after you become his, always wants to be touching you and doesn’t let you out of his sight (and yes that means sometimes he’s following you but it’s just because you’re brave and reckless and he worries)
When he eats you out, he holds both your hands in his for you to hold on to and does it with no hands—makes you cum more times on his tongue than you could fathom (and yes, he’s eating you for his pleasure)
Downloaded a tracker into your watch so he can know where you are at all times
Gets horny when he watches you fight and has def pulled you aside during a mission for a quickie in which you end up having your cunt stuffed with cum for the remainder of the mission
Such a cuddler but like a cat where he only wants to cuddle if he wants to—falls asleep nearly instantly in your arms like the cute sleepyhead he is
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Zayne
Finds it so cute the first time he comes to your apartment and sees all the little snow creatures he’d made you sitting in a windowsill together. Makes you so many more after that. Sends you a bouquet of flowers made from his ice too (#Elsa)
Has food delivered to you at lunch on days he knows you’re super busy so you don’t forget to eat since you often forget to take care of yourself (he doesn’t mind too much since he likes that you let him take care of you)
Prefers kisses over hugs, except when he’s sad because of a patient (then he likes the warm comfort of your hugs)
Moves his glasses to the top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose when he gets really stressed
Brings you a mild painkiller after blowing your back out, a smug but tiny smile on his lips, and tells you, “I was a bit rough so humor me and take this medicine. I don’t want you in excess pain because of me.”
Loves when you want to lay on his chest when he’s reading through cases and medical journals at night. He’ll read them out loud until you fall asleep and then finish them quietly as you snore softly into his chest
Calls you before a difficult surgery because your voice instantly calms him down
Into bondage—specifically he likes to tie you up so you can’t escape when he starts to overstimulate you. He really can’t help it, you just make such pretty noises for him when he gets you to that point that he has to keep going
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Tags: @adaurielle @luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
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Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
���I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
3K notes · View notes
colonelarr0w · 3 months
Note
singledad! nanami having the hots for yuji’s kindergarten teacher who has the tendency to overwork herself to the bone in the name of her precious students
he gets her to unwind with him 🫣 they fuck LMAOOOLLL
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Sypnosis - Read above request.
Pairing - !SingleDad Nanami x !Kindergarten Teacher Reader
Warning(s) - None besides some foul language.
Word Count - 2.6k
A/N - Hi, yes, okay, I know the request had a smut element to it, but I took a fluffy route. If you want a part two that has that smut element or an alternate version that focuses on that smut element, please send me a request and I will get to it as quickly as I can! But I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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ENCOUNTER 1 : 
“There! He’s over there!” Yuuji says happily, his grip over your hand tightening as he points to a blonde-haired man standing in the crowd of awaiting parents. You follow his gaze, smiling kindly as the man lifts his hand in a wave, grinning at both you and Yuuji.  
“Alright, off you go then,” you smile down at Yuuji, releasing his hand and watching as the six-year-old toddles over to his father, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s leg and smiling widely up at him. His father stands straight, waving once more to you before vanishing into the crowd. 
ENCOUNTER 2 : 
"Mr. Nanami, correct?" You cast a glance down at your clipboard before your gaze returns to the blonde male standing in front of you. He nods, smiling apologetically as Yuuji tugs once again on his arm, trying his hardest to get his father's attention. "You can both come inside." 
Nanami smiles again as he walks past you, taking a seat on the too-small chairs that you had set up in the center of the classroom. His knees curl up to his chest, but he says nothing as you sit in front of him, smiling first at Yuuji before your gaze shifts to settle on him.  
"Yuuji is an absolute pleasure to have in class. He's very helpful with others and myself, he focuses on each task he's given – he's a very gifted student," you explain, lifting up the pages on your clipboard and smiling as Yuuji's toothy grin widens, gleeful with the praise you were giving him.  
"Is that so? I'm very glad to hear that," Nanami nods, turning then to Yuuji and placing a palm over the top of his head. The six-year-old giggles, leaning into his father's touch with a closed-eye smile.  
You watch the interaction with a gentle smile of your own, fingers releasing their hold on the papers of your clipboard and listening as they quietly fall into place.  
ENCOUNTER 3 : 
"Papa, look! It's Miss (Y/N)," Yuuji bubbles happily, tugging on Nanami's pant leg and pointing in the direction that he had seen you. Curious, Nanami allows his gaze to follow Yuuji's finger – the scolding he wanted to give about pointing falling dead in his throat.  
You're preoccupied with whatever shopping list is curled between your fingers, lips pressed firmly together in thought as you struggle to decide which brand of potato chips to buy. Nanami can't help but silently admire you from his place farther down the same aisle. His lips tug upward in a soft smile – maybe one day he would have enough courage to stride up to you. 
ENCOUNTER 4 : 
"Oh, hello. Did Yuuji forget something at home?" you inquire curiously, raising an eyebrow as a very disheveled Nanami straightens himself out in front of you. His fingers fiddle with his tie, trying to make it look a touch more presentable – but to no avail.  
"I apologize for my appearance, this morning has been hectic. But yes, Yuuji accidentally left his lunchbox," Nanami answers, holding up the small metal lunchbox decorated with superhero stickers – some scratched and some brand new.  
You smile gently at him, reaching out to take the lunchbox from his fingers. "Don't worry, we all have those mornings," you say reassuringly, chuckling gently at Nanami. He returns your smile, cheeks warming at the lingering feeling that your fingers had left behind.  
ENCOUNTER 5 :  
"Hey, isn't that Yuuji's teacher?" Gojo asks, lifting his index finger to point across the bar. Nanami's eyes follow Gojo's finger – which then widen at the sight of you mingling with a few friends, nursing a fruity cocktail in your hand.  
Nanami hums in response, trying his hardest to return his attention to his drink, but your outfit is much too tight, pushing up exactly what needs to be pushed up and making your figure just that much more attractive. Behind his eyeglasses, his gaze roams up and down the dips and curves of your body, his lips quirking up in tune with his wandering eyes.  
"Yeah, it is," he mutters offhandedly, lifting his glass to his lips and resting it against the skin there. Gojo smirks, lowering his finger before standing from his place at the bar. Nanami's eyebrows pinch together in curiosity, watching the snowy-haired male swagger his way across the bar – not stopping until he reaches where you stand with your friends, then throwing a slender arm over your shoulders.  
The once loose grip Nanami had over his glass is replaced by a tight curl of his fingers, one that could surely shatter the glass should he apply the right amount of pressure. His eyes narrow in an almost predatory manner – watching as Gojo smiles at both you and the friends that had come along with you.  
You return his smile and laugh at the cheesy jokes that he throws your way, but Nanami can see the hint of discomfort that lies behind the curl of your lips. Oh, so that was Gojo's plan. 
Downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass, Nanami stands from his place at the bar, striding across the small space until he stands just a few inches away from you, your friends, and Gojo – the latter of whom is wearing that shit-eating grin he always wears when his plans work out just the way that he wanted them to.  
"Oh! Mr. Nanami! I didn't expect to see you out here," you say, turning quickly to glance at the blonde as he wanders into your line of vision. Your smile, once uncomfortable and forced, was now that same smile that you flashed at him when you noticed him at dismissal. "It's nice to see you." 
Nanami's cheeks heat, and he silently thanks the bar for being so dim, its lighting hiding the gentle pink hue that imbues over his face. "It's nice to see you as well Miss (Y/N)," Nanami nods at you, feeling himself smile as you shift an inch closer to him.  
"Oh, would you like to join me at the bar? Your friends can as well, if they'd like," Nanami offers, shooting Gojo a pointed glare. Gojo only smirks, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. That bastard. 
You glance to your friend, who nods encouragingly at you. You turn back to Nanami, smiling at his offer and reaching a hand out to squeeze his arm – your touch lights a small fire underneath his skin, one that he most certainly does not complain about.  
"We'd love to, thank you." 
ENCOUNTER 6 : 
"Where's your father Yuuji?" Your voice is a quiet mumble, your fingers still closed around Yuuji's as the both of your gazes sift through the crowd of awaiting parents – and yet Nanami is nowhere to be seen. The pink-haired boy sinks back onto his heels, a saddened look falling over his face as he leans into your side.  
"I don't know," he mumbles in response, his eyes already glossing over with tears. You soften, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the boy and smiling as reassuringly as you can at him. "Did he forget me?" 
You shake your head quickly, squeezing the tiny hand that still rests in yours. Yuuji sniffles, his cheeks puffing out in an adorable pout. "No! No honey, your father did not forget you. It could just be that work is keeping him a little later." 
Seemingly satisfied with your explanation, Yuuji nods, rubbing his free hand against his tear-filled eyes, sniffling. You smile again, squeezing his fingers before guiding him back to the entrance of your classroom.  
He follows, sitting down at his seat and taking the coloring sheets and colored pencils that you offer him, already scribbling away at the black-and-white monkey that laid in front of him. You take the seat at his left, feeling your heart warm as Yuuji tilts the sheet towards you – a silent invite for you to color with him.  
You take one of the colored pencils that he offers you, coloring in a small section of the page and occasionally looking up to your classroom door – where the hell was Nanami?  
"Wait here for a moment Yuuji, I'm going to call your father, okay?" You lift a hand to ruffle the boy's hair, smiling at him before silently moving towards the chorded phone tucked into the corner of your classroom, located just behind your desk.  
Just as you finish dialing in the now familiar number, the door to your classroom opens, revealing a disheveled Nanami. He leans quietly against the doorframe for a moment, catching his breath before Yuuji turns, smiling widely at the sight of his father.  
"Papa!" 
You turn from where you stand beside the phone, smiling in relief as you watch Yuuji bound up to Nanami, wrapping his little arms halfway around his father's legs.  
"There you are. I have to admit, I was getting a little worried about you," you admit with a smile, waving to Nanami as you walk closer to the pair, watching through softened eyes as Yuuji reaches for his completed coloring page, wanting to show his father.  
"I apologize for my lateness. I had not expected my office to keep me as late as they did," Nanami apologizes, bowing his head at you. You wave him off, then folding your fingers together in front of you.  
"It's not an issue at all. Though you did give Yuuji quite the scare," you admit, not failing to notice the way that Nanami's smile fades for a quick moment, but returns when Yuuji lifts his coloring page up to him.  
"Oh," he hums, turning to Yuuji and laying a palm against the youngster's head, lovingly ruffling his hair. "I apologize Yuuji, I didn’t mean to frighten you." 
"It's okay Papa! Miss (Y/N) and I colored together!" Yuuji bubbles, his eyes crinkling in a wide smile as his eyes momentarily flicker to you. "See? I made this one look like you." 
Nanami smiles fondly, then turning to you and once again mouthing his thanks. You merely wave him off, watching with a smile of your own as Yuuji continues to explain each little character that he had colored in.  
ENCOUNTER 7 : 
"Good morning Miss (Y/N)!" Yuuji exclaims happily, smiling brightly up at you as Nanami leads him forward, releasing the little boy's hand as he tugs his father towards you.  
Biting back the yawn that rises in your throat, you will yourself to smile back at your student, waving politely at him and watching through half-lidded eyes as he lets go of Nanami's hand. He opens his mouth to question you, but is immediately distracted by the call of one of his friends.  
"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)," Nanami bows politely at you, one that you return clumsily. His eyebrows pinch together in a mixture of curiosity and concern – you weren't acting like your regular self. Your once bubbly attitude and bright greetings were replaced now by half-assed "good morning's" and small waves that carried none of your usual warmth.  
"Morning Mr. Nanami," you return, your smile wobbling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. It's then that he notices the exhaustion that weighs heavy on your eyelids, practically tugging them down to a point where you look as though you're about to fall asleep standing upright.  
"Are you feeling alright this morning?" 
"Oh yes, just tired is all," you wave off his concern, smiling once again at him before a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falls over the both of you. "I'll be seeing you later?" 
"Yes, have a good day," Nanami smiles at you, his heart warming when you return it – though it doesn't quite reach your eyes that way that it would normally. You wave again at him as he walks off, then turning to your awaiting students and clapping your hands once together.  
ENCOUNTER 8 : 
"Oh! Miss (Y/N)! My papa wanted to talk to you after school today," Yuuji mentions to you, smiling as he glances up from the worksheet that he had been previously occupied with. Your eyebrows pinch together in intrigue, glancing down at the pink-haired boy and tilting your head at him.   
"Alright then, I'll be waiting for him," you reply with a kind smile, then continuing your routine check on the rest of your students, being sure that none of them were struggling with the work that you had handed out.  
< … > 
"Yuuji mentioned that you wanted to speak with me?"  
Nanami swallows the growing lump in his throat, suddenly feeling oddly choked up as you stand in front of him, lifting his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. His shirt feels tighter than before, the air surrounding him is suddenly hotter than it had been previously.  
"Yes – uhm – my apologies if I am taking up your time," Nanami begins, fiddling with his fingers and scratching at already existing hangnails, "but there is something that I wanted to ask of you." 
You smile kindly at him, a gentle laugh falling from your parted lips – a sound that Nanami wishes that he could commit to the very depths of his memory.  
"You're not wasting my time at all," you're quick to reassure him, your gaze momentarily flickering to Yuuji as he takes advantage of the empty classroom, organizing the books in your small-shelved library.  
Nanami inhales deeply, holding the breath in his chest and wondering if what he was about to ask would make you view him in a different light – though he sincerely hoped that you wouldn't.  
"I was wondering...and forgive me if this is too forward...if you would like to join me for coffee sometime this weekend?" His voice is dangerously quiet, a light shake to his voice as the fear of being rejected finally sinks into his bones – maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.  
Your laughter dies down, fading completely as you stare at Nanami – you certainly hadn't expected him to ask you that.  
Just as Nanami opens his mouth to apologize again, you cut him off.  
"I'd love to." 
With cheeks dusted pink and a smile that could only be compared to a lovesick fool, Nanami glances up at you, feeling his chest warm at the sight of your dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes.  
< ... > 
"So that's how you and Papa fell in love?" Yuuji tilts his head curiously, biting back his yawn as he nestles further into his comforters. You smile gently at him, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle his hair, threading your fingers through his pink locks.  
"That's exactly how Papa and I fell in love. He took me for coffee that very weekend, and the rest is history," you recall with a lovesick smile plastered onto your face. Yuuji smiles sleepily, a sight that you mentally commit to memory.  
"I'm happy you and Papa met," Yuuji whispers adorably, yawning again before his heavy eyes finally flutter shut, exhaustion taking over him. You smile again, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss against his forehead before you stand from his bed. 
You turn your head, jumping at the sight of Nanami standing in the doorframe to Yuuji's bedroom, leaning against it with crossed arms and a gentle smile on his face. "How long were you there for?" Your voice is almost accusatory as you walk into your husband's arms, resting your own around his neck and tracing your fingernails along his nape.  
"Long enough to hear you retell that story for – what – the eighty-fifth time?" Nanami perks an eyebrow at you, leaning down to slot his lips against yours. You hum against his mouth, tugging him a bit closer and biting playfully at his bottom lip.  
He pulls away after a moment, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing against your own, his large hands squeezing playfully at your waist.  
"And every time I tell it, you hang off of my every word, don't you?"  
Nanami smiles, his lips ghosting over your own as he tugs you impossibly closer, your chest pressed flush against his own.  
"That I do." 
2K notes · View notes
ahundredtimesover · 5 months
Text
I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK
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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: 12k
Series Masterlist
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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
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A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕
Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰
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Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.
It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee. 
You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile. 
He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.
It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise. 
“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”
Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss. 
“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”
“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”
“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”
“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”
At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh. 
“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”
“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”
You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved. 
At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”
He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again. 
“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”
“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”
“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.” 
“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”
“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”
“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.” 
“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that. 
“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.
Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly. 
But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.
You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.
You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong. 
Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants. 
She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face. 
“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”
You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly. 
“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”
“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.
“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in. 
“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—” 
“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true. 
And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his. 
But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay. 
“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”
The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss. 
“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room. 
You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.
“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?” 
Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head. 
“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”
“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”
“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”
“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down. 
With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile. 
“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”
You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.
“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”
“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”
“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues. 
“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”
“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”
“But I—”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass. 
You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.
“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”
Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.  
“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.
In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala. 
As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell. 
He’s unfairly handsome. 
He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.
The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze. 
“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.
“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him. 
“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters. 
“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”
Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.
Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”
“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say. 
Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.
“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says. 
“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached. 
“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”
You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.
Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.    
Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway. 
“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”
“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”
Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.
Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok. 
Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them. 
There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point. 
“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison. 
“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”
“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind. 
“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you. 
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”
“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”
Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.
“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.
“No.”
“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”
“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”
He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.
“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”
“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”
“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.
“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”
“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”
“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds. 
“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”
“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”
“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.
“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”
“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”
You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.
But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.
“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around. 
But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father. 
You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.
“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk. 
A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”
You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out. 
As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.
“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says. 
“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly. 
“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”
“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”
You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.
“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”
“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”
“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”
You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day. 
You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day. 
All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.
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Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks. 
You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so. 
You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you. 
There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily. 
You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised. 
“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.
“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”
You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.
“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs. 
He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.
“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?” 
“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.
You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in. 
“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”
You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed. 
You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.
Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first. 
He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.
“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”
“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”
You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected. 
Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make. 
You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed. 
But of course, he has to ruin it again.
“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings. 
Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done. 
You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough. 
It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough. 
You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon. 
It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day. 
They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.
His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.
“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.
He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting. 
How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t. 
You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting. 
It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you. 
Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs. 
You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same. 
You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge. 
You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files. 
You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents. 
“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that. 
“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door. 
You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.
You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger. 
It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.
“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes. 
“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.” 
You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.
Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours. 
Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.
“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”
“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”
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Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything. 
But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.
You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.
[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you? 
You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation. 
You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do. 
It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty. 
You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.
“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”
“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more. 
“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.
He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you. 
“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.
“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”
“Well, duty calls. What can I do?” 
“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies. 
“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle. 
“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”
“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites. 
Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment. 
“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.
“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”
“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”
“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs. 
You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction. 
You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.
“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”
“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”
“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing. 
“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back. 
“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it. 
You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career. 
“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.
“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm. 
You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.
“Need help?” Yoongi asks.
“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.
“You brat.”
You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this. 
“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder. 
You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today. 
From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.
He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision. 
Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.
Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.
But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.
That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.
He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.
That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you. 
Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.
It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.
Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.
But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.
“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”
Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.
“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”
“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly. 
Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.
“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”
“So you’re actually friends?”
“Yes.”
“Were you more?”
Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.
“Does it matter?” The older man asks.
“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”
“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”
Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede. 
But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply. 
“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”
Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.
“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know?  But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”
“How are you still friends?”
“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.
“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”
“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”
“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs. 
Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”
“How brave,” Jungkook remarks. 
“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans. 
“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”
“I already do. That’s why I…”
“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”
“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.
“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”
“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.
“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”
Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.
“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”
“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.
“The cafe down the street, then?”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans. 
But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.
So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.
“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says. 
“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”
“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”
“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”
Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now. 
He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.
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saetoru · 11 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MEET UGLY — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college au!, rich boy! gojo, first meets, slight meet ugly but mainly he’s just annoying, established relationship in second scene, banter + fluff, kissies for da princess boy <3
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dating gojo has always been, and will always be, the biggest unforeseen plot twist of your life.
the first time you encounter gojo satoru, it’s in literature class. he laughs with that dark haired friend of his a bit too loudly in the back while you try to share your thoughts on the reading from last night—it’s not that you particularly care for the class, but you’re trying to get the participation points, and you don’t want some slacking jackass to ruin that for you.
you throw him a glare over your shoulder, making him pause and blink before he shoots you a cheshire grin. you swear you hear a chuckle from the distance as you turn and continue speaking.
the second time you stumble across him is in line at the campus coffee shop. it’s the first day of the semester, and you have class in fifteen minutes across campus, but you’re tired. incredibly so—working shifts back to back late into the night is not doing you any favors, but you have to afford gas money and textbooks somehow.
you need caffeine, and you need it quick so you can make it to class on time.
except the tall, snow-haired stranger in front of you is making that very difficult as he takes forever and lists his wildly long list of syrups and add ons for his drink—seriously, who can even stomach a drink like that? you crinkle your nose as you imagine how sweet it must be. what irritates you more is that he pays for his ridiculously expensive drink that’s far too sweet for eight am with a black card. you glare daggers into the back of his head, wishing you could crack his skull in two with your stare alone.
and then he turns, raises a brow as he stares at you calculatingly—and then his lips turn into a grin as he seems to recognize you. great, you think.
“hey, weren’t you in lit class with me last semester?” he asks, making you sigh as you purse your lips.
“yes. now please move, i need to order and get to class.”
“she curved that final exam pretty generously, i thought i was going to fail—”
“i’ll take a large double shot,” you mumble, ignoring him as you place your order. you can feel his stare from the side as you pay.
“that’s pretty strong, don’t you think?” he asks, making you throw a glare at him from over your shoulder, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
it only seems to amuse him more, making you grit your teeth—how irritating could someone even manage to be? there’s got to be some sort of record he’s holding for most nerves he’s ticked off within the span of two meets.
“well, assuming from the fact that you’re a college student with a black credit card,” you huff, “you probably haven’t had to work a single night shift in your life.”
you put away your own card as you speak—one that’s not black, and one that’s going to have a very high bill due soon from the textbooks you’ll have to purchase.
“i like you,” he grins, “you’re funny. how about i—”
you cut him off again, done interacting for the morning. “have a nice day,” you say curtly, walking over to the wait area for your drink.
he seems entirely amused by your attitude—which only pisses you off more. does everything seem to make his lips quirk into that annoying smirk of his? and why is it so handsome? what a waste of such a gorgeous face to be paired with such an insufferable personality. and, because the universe hates you, he waits around for you even after he gets his drink, following you out the door when you grab yours and leave.
“how about i take you out for coffee tomorrow?” he grins, “i’ll pay with that black card you like so much.”
what an asshole—you hope he gets hit by a car and loses a few teeth.
“no.”
“c’mon, it’ll be fun—”
“no.”
“okay,” he chuckles, “feisty. i like it.”
and then, as you turn the corner, he turns with you, walking leisurely behind you as he sips that disgustingly sugary drink of his.
“what the fuck,” you hiss, “why are you following me?”
“i’m not,” he says innocently, “why are you following me?”
where are all the cars in the streets when you need them? and why haven’t they hit him yet?
“i’m walking ahead of you jackass,” you huff, “how can i be following you?”
“oh yeah?” he takes a few strides with those abnormally long legs of his, walking ahead of you as he shoots you an amused grin over his shoulder. “now you’re following me. does that mean you changed your mind about that date?”
“you wish,” you seethe.
a few more steps, and he walks into the same building as you. great—you’ll likely be running into him every morning then. a few more steps and he’s turning the hall to the same hall as you. wonderful—you’ll probably have to deal with him to the walk to class too. a few more steps, and then you realize he’s entering the same class that you’re entering.
fucking fantastic. just what you needed. absolutely divine luck—the universe has really handed you the largest pair of clown shoes it could find.
of course he of all people would be in class with you for another semester—and he seems to brighten considerably when he realizes he’s in your class too, because his grin widens even more.
“well, look at that,” he says brightly, “you followed me all the way to class. we might as well be seatmates.”
“don’t even think about sitting near me,” you warn, “i’m going to go that way. you go that way.”
he does not go the way you point—instead, he chuckles and plops down right beside you. how on earth could someone be so easy to despise? of all the empty seats in the entirety of the lecture hall, he just has to choose the seat right next to you.
for a moment, you contemplate skipping this class entirely and trying to teach yourself everything before the tests just so you don’t have to see him—you’ve done that enough times, it shouldn’t be too hard. but then you remember that this course is notorious for having a semester long paired project that weighs for a hefty amount of your final grade—skipping is not an option.
so, with veins ready to pop any second, and an oncoming migraine, you sit through all of lecture trying to ignore the absolute worst guy you’ve ever met. not only is he rude and obnoxious and overly confident to a fault—but he’s also rich and spoiled and privileged to live in a realm entirely separate from your reality.
you think you might just hate him.
you’re broken from your thoughts when you hear your name as the professor lists the pairs she’s already made from the roster for the semester’s project. this is great, you think, she’ll call someone’s name, and you’ll have that as an excuse to sit with them and avoid the nuisance sat beside you.
everything is fine. you’ll be free in just a few moments. it’ll all be over soon.
“gojo satoru,” she calls, “if you could raise your hand so your partner knows who to find after class.”
then, as if in slow motion, the very same guy who ruined your morning raises his hand, looking over at you absolutely enthused as his eyes sparkle through the top of his sunglasses—which, only an asshole would wear sunglasses indoors.
“hey partner,” he chuckles, “how about coffee tomorrow to discuss our project?”
—————
satoru likes to think that even with his unfortunate start with you on the wrong foot, he’s managed a steady relationship with you.
you don’t tell him to get hit by a car anymore—instead, now you kiss his forehead before bed every night, hold his hand and swing his arm with yours when you’re out, cuddle him after long days and talk about life, and sometimes—when he’s been extra good, you might even do other activities with him that include a whole lot of intimacy and exclude a whole lot of clothing.
he likes to think you’re pretty in love with him—and he’s proud to claim himself as your adorable, sweet, very handsome and extremely funny boyfriend. although, you don’t really ever call him all that, but he’s fairly confident you think it, and that’s close enough.
“baby,” gojo pokes your arm from his spot on your lap, “on a scale of one to ten, how cute would you say i am?”
“an eleven when you shut up and let me work,” you mumble, stroking his hair with one hand and doing calculus problems with the other.
he pouts, huffing in disbelief.
“you know, if you keep taking me for granted, you might lose me,” he says petulantly.
it earns a snort from you as you give him an amused look.
“toru, i think your mom would pay me to get back together with you if we ever broke up.”
“she would not,” he gasps, watching as you bite your lip to keep from laughing.
“remember our first fight? you practically starved yourself in your room,” you giggle, “she had to beg me to come talk to you so you’d eat.”
“that’s not true! i had kitkats and coke zero in my room,” he defends himself, crossing his arms as he sits up. “i was fine.”
“you definitely cried yourself to sleep,” you snicker, “you’re hopeless without me.”
“i am just fine without you,” he lies through his teeth, turning away from you as he tilts his head up indignantly.
“remember when you couldn’t even last a week without me while i was studying for finals? and then your mom had to call and beg me again to spend time with you?”
“that’s not—”
“admit it, toru,” you grin cheekily, pinching his nose as you chuckle, “you’d probably die if we ever broke up.”
“and you’d be fine?” he asks incredulously—he’s almost distressed at the idea, staring at you in slight hurt that makes you laugh before setting your calculus homework aside.
you grab his arm and pull him into your side, kissing his head as he slumps onto your chest.
“i don’t know, i don’t think i’d mind watching a mopey satoru beg me to take him back.”
“you don’t deserve me,” he grumbles, “i deserve to be loved and cherished. i’m a catch.”
“i bet you’d make that ugly face of yours when you cry,” you tease, making him look up at you with an offended gasp.
“i’ll have you know i’m exceptionally pretty when i cry. the waterworks have gotten me loads of things from my mom—i’m irresistible.”
“you’d probably be on your knees in seconds,” you continue to poke fun at him, “please take me back. i’m nothing without you, baby,” you mock his voice, giggling as he glares at you unimpressed.
“now you’re just being a bully. do you even love me?”
“i do,” you grin softly, pecking his cheek, “i love you a ton. you know that.”
“you don’t act like it,” he grumbles.
you laugh, hugging him tighter as your fingers slip into his hair again. sometimes, you think you should be shocked you’re here—laying in bed with gojo satoru and kissing his cheeks as he pouts. you of the past might just kill you of the present if you saw yourself now….but something about gojo is charming enough that you can overlook the very annoying first impression you had.
enough that maybe….well, maybe you might also be a bit hopeless without him—but you’ll never tell him that.
something tells you he knows, though, when he wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you impossibly closer, kissing the corner of your lips as he grins.
“what about that time you got soooo jealous?” he grins, “we weren’t even together yet. and remember that time you begged my mom to take home baby pictures of me? you’re obsessed,” he says proudly, “i would be too. i’m adorable.”
“you’re a pain is what you are,” you mutter.
“i love you too,” he chuckles, burying his head into your shoulder.
you grin, the curves of your lips painted with love as they find his forehead, pressing delicate kisses to the skin. maybe being paired for a semester long project with the annoying rich boy in your class wasn’t so bad—maybe you owe finding the softest love you’ve ever had to the strict and unpleasant professor who gave you an A- when you definitely deserved an A.
“and how are you so sure i love you?” you ask playfully. he rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers with his.
“because you haven’t hit me with your car yet,” he bites back, making you laugh brightly.
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plssss i want him so bad i cannot take it anymore every day without him feels like pins and needles in my skin it’s utter agony i feel like my life’s meaning has been stripped from me i feel like my lungs and heart both burn from the lack of oxygen i feel like i am but an empty shell with no soul lost and wandering the planet searching for a reason to go on
ps. if you have been reading along w rb! gojo i hope you caught some of the references to old drabbles ;)
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finelinefae · 3 months
Text
camping [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]
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synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry and Y/N leave the air base to go on a camping trip in July and their feelings are all over the place.
word count: 13.2k (!?)
contains: friends to lovers, opposites attract, violence, nightmares, flirting, smoking, fluff, smut (breeding kink, size kink, she's on top, cockwarming *if you squint*), forced proximity
this is part 2 of the aviator, you can read part 1 here
. . .
“Leave me alone Harry!” Y/N stormed several paces in front of him, hugging her arms around herself to try and keep herself warm. 
“Birdy, c’mon now, it’s not what y’ think it is.” Harry kept his distance behind her but had been following her home since she stormed off after she’d caught him with her housemate, Nancy. 
“Quit calling me that! And will you stop following me?” She spun round and he immediately froze in his steps. 
“Promised I’d walk y’ home,” He shrugged, “Not gonna let y’ walk home in the dark alone.”
“I’d probably be better off,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms.
“Will y’ let me explain?” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but he carried on talking, “I won’t quit following y’ if that’s what y’ gonna say and the view of the back of y’ head is just as pretty as the front so there’s no way y’ gonna stop me. I just… Will you let me explain? Please?” 
Y/N scoffs like she can’t believe what she’s hearing right now. What would it take for him to take a message and leave her be? “You’re not used to hearing the word no are you?” 
“I respect it but doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. God, especially not with you.” Every part of him seemed serious. Y/N’s shoulders dropped and he took it as a sign to continue, “Me and Nancy we have history tha’s for sure,” He started and the words made Y/N’s chest ache, “But we only slept together a couple times before Christmas tha’s all. She came out and found me smoking and I realised she was a ‘lil drunk. I tried to pull her off me but she wasn’t having it, said she saw me outside with y’ and got upset.”
Y/N frowned, unsure of whether to believe him or not, “Listen, I know you’ve heard things about me but-” He dug his heel into the ground and chuckled lightly, “I ain’t ever felt the way I did back there when I kissed y’ Y/N and I’m not jus’ saying that.” 
Y/N felt some of the anger dissipate from her body, replaced by pure frustration. She hadn't come to Offutt to get tangled up in a mess with a man she barely knew, yet here she was. Nancy's revelation about having her sights set on a man hit Y/N like a ton of bricks. If she had known it was Harry, she might never have kissed him in the first place. She hardly knew Harry beyond their brief interactions and the hearsay from her housemates. How could she trust him? Yet, despite her doubts, there was one undeniable truth: the kiss they had shared lingered vividly in her mind. The taste of peppermint and cigarettes still clung to her lips, a tangible reminder of their brief encounter. It was a moment that now intertwined her with him in a way she wasn't expecting.
Y/N huffed, “And what? I’m just meant to believe you now. Take your word for it and run into your arms and kiss you again?”
“That’d be nice, yeah.” Harry smiled, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. 
Y/N shook her head, trying to process everything Harry had just said. Despite her frustration and confusion, there was a part of her that wanted to believe him. She knew deep down that she couldn't deny the chemistry they shared during that kiss, but she also couldn't ignore the uncertainty punching at her gut. 
"Harry, I... I don't know what to think," Y/N admitted, her voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "I want to trust you, but it's hard after everything that's happened and what’s been said. I-I don’t know you that well is all."
Harry stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I understand, Birdy. And I don't expect you to trust me blindly. But hey maybe we could start as friends, get to know each other better before anything else, if that would make y' comfortable."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, considering his suggestion. The idea of starting as friends seemed more sensible, given the circumstances. "Friends?"
"Yeah, friends," Harry confirmed a hopeful glint in his eyes. "No expectations, just getting to know each other without any pressure."
Y/N nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright, I like that idea.” 
Harry grinned, relieved that she seemed to be willing to give him a chance. "Well, you need more of ‘em.”
Y/N’s smile disappeared, “I do not! I have plenty of friends.”
“The girls at the nursery don’t count,” Harry smirks, “And neither does Elise.”
“Whatever,” Y/N muttered, spinning on her heel to continue her journey home. She heard Harry’s footsteps jogging up to meet her and was surprised to feel his jacket being placed over her shoulders. 
Harry put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Y/N’s heart stuttered, “Friends don’t do that you know.” She grumbled, pretending to act grumpy around him in hopes it would hide the fact that she was most definitely swooning inside. 
“Oh? I do it with my friends all the time. Sometimes I kiss them on the lips too, we can try if y’ want-” Y/N looked up at him, glaring, “Alright then, another time.”
Y/N let Harry walk her the remainder of the way home, feeling a little more at peace with the fact she would be welcoming him into her life, even if it was just as friends for now. She hoped it would be enough to get to know him and eventually, she’d trust him enough to allow their relationship to blossom into something more and hopefully sometime soon because when Harry had left her on the doorstep of her house, she knew she’d be dreaming of that kiss every time she looked at him. 
Y/N closed the door as gently as she could, pressing her forehead against the wooden frame. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding before walking into the kitchen where Nancy was standing, “How’d you get home so quickly?” Y/N asked, unable to meet her hard stare.
“Harry must have taken you the long way home.” She shrugged pushing her chair back from the table, the legs of her chair scraping against the tiled ground.
“I-I didn’t know Harry was the guy you were talking about Nancy,” Y/N said truthfully.
“Would it have made any difference?” Nancy asked, a bite to her tone.
Y/N sighed, “All this was never my decision. Harry asked me to the dance, I-I didn't know it was going to be such a big deal.” 
“Harry loves attention from any girl who bats her eyelashes and twirls her hair.” Nancy glared, “You don’t make the exception.” 
Y/N straightened her shoulders, “What if I do?” She wasn’t going to allow herself to be belittled by another woman over a man she had just met.
Nancy snickered, “Are you that entitled?”
“Harry’s smart enough to make his own decisions Nancy and I’m not going to be involved in whatever petty game you think this is. Not only is it up to him to decide who he likes but it’s my decision too and if he’s not with anybody then I can decide whether I should be allowed to get to know him or not.” Y/N declared.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, “I’m not trying to compete with you but I’d be careful if I were you. If you’re planning on standing so close to the fire prepared to get burnt. Those Styles boys have their things going on. Harry hasn't the faintest idea of what to do with a girl outside of the bedroom. I've known him long enough for that.” 
“Maybe you don’t know him that well.” 
“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged, “Maybe you can tell me all about it when you realise he’s not all he says he is.” 
“Why do you want him if you have no faith in him?” Y/N asked.
“I said I had my eye on him, not that I planned on settling down with him. Every girl wants to sleep with him and not only because he’s Offutt’s best pilot, he’s the only man who knows what he’s doing.” Nancy stands from her chair, “I won’t compete but I don’t particularly enjoy being proven wrong.” She moved past her, leaving Y/N standing in the kitchen. 
. . . 
As winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Y/N and Harry's friendship seemed to blossom with the seasons. They had developed a type of bond that neither of them had with anybody else and through it they learnt more about themselves and each other. Ever since the night they began their relationship, there was never a moment where Y/N wasn’t seen with the brunette aviator walking beside her. 
Even Harry’s brothers had come to enjoy Y/N's company. Somehow she had taken on this maternal presence within their family dynamic that none of the siblings had ever really had before. Sonny had taken a particular liking to having Y/N around, enjoying the free time he had now that Y/N would sometimes volunteer to put Elise to bed in the evenings. 
Along with Harry’s brothers, also came Y/N’s housemates Molly and Patsy. She had become good friends with them too in the last few months and now she finally had her own little girl group to hang out with (they’d often include Elise in that group too). 
The group had become their own little, dysfunctional family on Offutt. 
Even though their friendship was meant to be the start of something more, Y/N and Harry hadn’t spoken much about that night at the dance since it had happened. Even with Harry’s flirtatious teasing from time to time, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that something had happened between them like this friendship had created a strange liminal space between them that held so many questions. She loved the current dynamic - the comfort everyone shared, even amidst their occasional bickering. It made her wonder if this was how it was supposed to be, and perhaps Harry thought so too.
However, her feelings for Harry continued to grow stronger with every passing day. She would dream of the kiss they shared and wake up with a strong ache in her chest at the idea that it would never happen again. Every day she tried to coax herself into talking to him about how she felt and every day she’d get distracted or put off by doubts and the voice in the back of her head warning her, telling her enough time had passed that maybe Harry didn’t have feelings for her anymore which is why he never bought them up. 
It was July now and the girls were sitting eating breakfast in the kitchen. Y/N was nibbling on a piece of slightly burnt toast as Molly rambled on about how busy her day was going to be down at the hairdresser with her hair rollers still in her hair. 
Opposite Y/N at the table sat Nancy, who had hardly spoken since waking up. She was dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly curled, and her uniform immaculately pressed. The tension between the two girls lingered from the dance night. It was clear Nancy was prepared to do anything for Harry's attention, even if he didn't see it. While Nancy seemed distant, Y/N tried to keep things friendly, despite the awkwardness between them. They had to live with each other after all. 
Y/N had seen Nancy and Harry alone together a few times and even if it filled her with an insatiable amount of jealousy, she wouldn’t allow herself to get involved with whatever went on between them. This wasn’t a competition she was taking part in, her feelings were her own and so were Nancy's. What mattered was her own relationship with Harry because it had slowly become the most important thing in her life. 
The front door burst open, Sonny’s voice boomed down the hallway, “Good morning ladies!” 
“Is anyone ever going to teach those boys how to knock?” Molly grumbled, standing from the table to lean against the kitchen counter, “I oughta start locking that front door before I go to bed.”
Y/N looked down to hide her smile as three grown men, dressed in overalls and white t-shirts walked into the room, one of them holding the small toddler in his arms. “Give me the baby!” Patsy launched from her chair and reached for Elise, smothering the girl in kisses. 
“Can I have a turn, Patsy?” Sonny asked, batting his eyelashes playfully. 
“You wish,” Patsy glared. 
“Morning Nancy,” George grinned, only to receive a curt nod in return, “Good morning George, y’ sure are looking mighty fine in tha’ uniform of yours,”  George remarked, his voice slightly mocking, delivered in a high pitch to tease her. 
Nancy stood from her seat, glaring up at the tall brother in front of her, “Good morning George, do you mind getting out of my way? I’ve got work to do, unlike some people.” 
“How could y’ say that? I’m always working,” He argued.
“Cigarettes and arm wrestling during work hours do not count as working.” Nancy picked her bag up from under her chair. 
“Know y’ like watching though darlin’.” He smirked and Nancy scoffed, shoving past him and leaving the house. 
“Y’ oughta be careful with that one George,” Molly smirked, taking out a cigarette and offering one to him.
“She’s all good,” He shrugged, his eyes on the seat Nancy had been sitting in.
Y/N’s smile dropped when someone snatched the piece of toast she was eating from her hand. She looked up and was met with green eyes looking down at her, a lazy grin on the face she saw every day, “Hi birdy,” His voice was always deeper than usual in the mornings 
“Hi Harry,” Y/N grinned. 
He grabbed the empty chair that Nancy had been sitting in and lifted it from the tiled floor to sit next to her. His eyes flitted around her face, and the corner of his lips turned upwards, “You’ve got jam-” He reached his thumb out and wiped away the jam from the corner of her lips. Y/N’s cheeks tinged pink, “There y’ go.”
“Thanks,” Y/N murmured, looking away from his intense gaze. 
“No problem,” He smirked, “Y’ look beautiful by the way.”
Harry said the same thing almost every morning and Y/N never failed to blush whenever he told her the compliment. “I only woke up thirty minutes ago, I haven’t even run a brush through my hair.”
“And you still look beautiful. It’s unfair birdy, truly it is.” He sighed, shaking his head dramatically.
Y/N giggled, “You’re such an idiot.” 
“So what brings you boys here so early? Ran out of food back home?” Molly asked, reaching for Elise since apparently, it was her time to hold her. 
“We’re going off base with some of the guys later to the town to buy camping gear for the trip,” Sonny explained, taking a sip of black coffee from Patsy’s mug. 
“What happened to the stuff from last year?” Molly quirked a brow, “It was perfectly fine when we left it.”
Harry reached for Y/N’s hand and mindlessly played with her fingers as people spoke. George shrugs, “There’s more of us going this year so either way we need more tents.”
"What are you talking about?" She asked, turning to Harry for an explanation.
All eyes turned to her, then to Harry, their expressions puzzled. George's frown deepened. "You never told her?"
Y/N's gaze remained fixed on Harry, waiting for his response as he dropped her hand onto his lap.
"Every year on the last week of July, a huge group of us go camping down at Harpers Lake," Sonny explained. "It's a five-hour hike, and we camp out for two nights. We're all going this year, and we thought Harry over there already told you about it, but clearly he didn't."
Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought Molly would have told you," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
Y/N's eyes darted around at everyone's faces as they looked at her expectantly, "I-I don't know if I'll get time off at the nursery," Y/N stuttered, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her.
"Hey, I'm sure someone'll cover for you," Harry reassured her with a shrug. "If you don't go, I won't go either."
"Harry," she huffed, unable to resist the warmth in his eyes. "What about Elise? Who will take care of her?"
"Elise is coming, of course," Sonny piped in. "You think the Styles go anywhere without each other?"
Y/N glanced at Harry, her heart softening at his earnest expression. He gently picked up her hand again, squeezing her fingers lightly as if to persuade her to come with them. Harry's gaze held hers, his voice soft but determined. "If you’re worried about skipping work, it’ll be fine. We'll figure that out together, Birdy. I promise."
“I hate camping,” Y/N confessed, the corner of his lips quirking.
“But y’ haven’t camped with me yet.” He smirked as if doing anything with him was the solution to everything. 
Y/N’s shoulders sagged, “Okay, fine.” She relented, falling into their persuasion. Though the idea of camping was her worst nightmare, being with Harry off-base seemed to make it bearable. 
Eventually, everyone left to start their day of work. Y/N took Elise into her arms and made her way down to the nursery, “Y/N!” Harry called, she turned and saw him running up to them from down the road. “Y’ not mad at me are you?” 
Y/N frowned, “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Y’ know,” He stood straight, scratching the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or about to say something sincere, “Because I didn’t tell you about the camping trip. I was meant to but every time I’m with y’ all the things I plan to say just seem to slip from my mind.” 
Y/N’s face softens, “No I’m not mad at you Harry. I mean, I wish I could have found out sooner, but if you say it’ll be fine, I’ll believe you.”
Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Y’ believe me huh?” He took a step forward until he stood directly in front of her. 
Y/N’s heart stuttered at the proximity, “Y-yeah, I do.” She murmurs. 
Harry’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Y’ might be the only one.” He whispers his breath minty from the gum he was chewing on. 
His eyes darted to her lips and then back up again. Even though they were outside, Y/N felt the oxygen slipping from the space around her until a tiny, chubby hand swatted Harry’s face out of the way, “No!” Elise yells and starts to ramble. 
Harry’s expression shifted, his features softening with amusement. He grabs Elise’s hand and starts pressing kisses to the inside of her palm, “What do y’ mean no? Y’ don’t like it when I speak to my best friend? ‘S that because you’re my best friend Elise?” Harry teases, pretending to bite her small hand. 
Y/N giggles, “It seems I’m always competing with somebody for your attention.” She jokes but Harry’s smile falters.
“Y’ don’t need to do that,” He murmurs, “Y’ too special to me to do that.” 
Elise carried on rambling as Y/N remained silent, surprised by Harry’s words. That classic, flirtatious grin reappeared once more on Harry's face as he pressed a quick kiss to Elise’s cheek and then Y/N’s too, “I’ll see you later, baby girl.” He said to Elise. 
He walked backwards, eyes fixed on Y/N, “I’ll see both my best girl’s later!” He winked and then turned around. 
“Your brother is stupid,” Y/N said to Elise. 
“Ha, Ha!” Elise pointed at her brother who disappeared around the corner, calling him the name she always called him since she couldn’t say his full name properly yet. 
“Ha Ha indeed,” Y/N sighed, making her way to the nursery. 
. . .
The camping trip had been a tradition in Offutt for the last ten years or so. Harry had been with his brothers ever since he had come to Offutt. He mostly enjoyed it for the fact that he got to spend time away from the Air Base. He didn’t do very much other than smoke cigarettes and maybe sleep with one or two people if he felt like it. 
This time though felt different. Harry had never been this excited about a camping trip before, especially not with Y/N. It had been ages since he anticipated anything, but the thought of spending two entire nights with the girl who had completely transformed his life was exhilarating enough to have him willingly sleeping in a tent out in the wilderness.
They were into the final hour of the hike to Harper’s Lake. The sun was beating down on their faces and Y/N and Harry were way behind the rest of the group. Y/N had been huffing and puffing ever since the halfway point of the trail. It had kept Harry rather amused during what was often a long and boring walk.
Harry walked in front wearing a white vest and cargo trousers, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips and a silver dog tag around his neck. Y/N was walking behind him, beating bushes with a big stick as she walked by them. 
“Y’ keep beating up those bushes back there darling and they’ll start shouting back to y’.” Harry smiled to himself as he heard her mumbles. “You dawdling back there?”
“No,” Y/N snaps, “I do not dawdle thank you.” Her feet were slipping. She didn’t have decent shoes to wear and Harry had already had to stop twice to put bandages on both her knees which was probably why they were so behind from the rest of the group.
“Why couldn’t we just fly? You’re a pilot Harry, can’t you go get us a plane?” 
“Y’ want me to get a military plane to fly us to a lake so that y’ don’t have to get all hot and bothered 'cause you’re walking, is that right birdy?” Harry holds back a laugh.
“Well, I don’t see the point in flying planes if you’re not gonna use them.” She mumbles.
Harry stops and turns around to look at her. She’s wearing a shirt that’s too big for her and shorts on her small legs. He let her borrow his flight cap so she didn’t get sunburnt but it was too big for her head so it covered her eyes. “Are y’ asking for a lift up the hill?” 
Y/N fell silent, her gaze drifting past him to the peak of the hill. She nodded quietly. Harry chuckled, dropping his bag to the ground. Turning around, he squatted and gestured behind him, arms outstretched. "Hop on, birdy."
“Are you sure? What if I'm too heavy.” Y/N says.
“I’m only offering once so I’d make the most of it if I were you.” He teased and waited for her to jump on his back.
He heard her feet tread along the ground before stopping behind him. She put her body weight onto him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Y’ won’t drop me, will you? Because it’s not gonna be funny if you do.”
“Never,” he promised, lifting himself off the ground. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist and he picked up his bag off the floor. “How’s the view up there birdy?”
“Pretty,” she said, her lips close to his ear.
“I bet,” he said to himself before tracking up the hill.
The lake glimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by birch and willow trees. Y/N had never seen something so beautiful before as she looked over Harry’s head to see where they’d be staying the next few nights. Her feet hit the floor as Harry released her from his grip. There were around thirty people from the base who had come along on the trip and were already deciding where they were going to set up their camping spots. 
Y/N glanced around to spot her friends only to find them already bickering with each other in a shaded spot away from everyone else. Patsy and Molly were sharing a tent, while Sonny and George were setting up theirs with Elise. Harry had his own tent, and Y/N had bought a separate one as well. “Hey Patsy, have you seen my tent?” Y/N glanced around the floor where everyone had thrown their bags. 
“No, I thought you would have taken it.” Patsy shrugged.
“Me too,” Y/N huffed, looking through her backpack to see if she had packed the small tent she had bought. 
“Have you lost it?” Molly asked. Y/N frantically shoved some of the bags out of the way, hoping to spot it somewhere, until the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.
It was sitting on the couch in the living room of her house, five hours away from where they were camping.
“You left it at home?” Sonny burst out laughing, Y/N’s cheeks flushing red. 
“It’s not funny Sonny,” Patsy whacked him on the shoulder, “Where’s she meant to sleep?"
“With me.” A voice spoke, and Y/N turned around to see Harry standing with aviator sunglasses covering his eyes. 
“W-what?” Y/N stuttered as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. 
“Well unless y’ wanna sleep with Elise, Birdy, the only other option is with me.” He shrugs as if it was no big deal that he was offering her to sleep in his one-man tent. 
“I-I can sleep with Elise,” She noticed how no one was saying anything or coming up with other ideas for her sleeping arrangement. She could have sworn she saw her two housemates giggling in the corner of her eye.
"And I could sleep with Elise too, but you know why I don’t?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's because all three of my siblings seem to have inherited a gene that I missed out on. Trust me, Birdy, you don’t wanna sleep in a tent with a snoring swing band the whole night."
Harry reached out and gently tugged her hand, “We’ve slept in the same room before.”
“Yeah but you slept on the floor,” She crossed her arms, trying to think of any other way she could sleep without having to share a small space with the guy she had feelings for. Y/N glanced around at her friends who immediately went about fixing their own tents as if they hadn’t stopped to watch the whole ordeal. She sighed, “Fine.”
Y/N brushed past Harry. He quickly snatched off his hat she was wearing and placed it on his own head, grinning, “It’ll be fun,” 
By the time they had set up the tent, it had dawned on Y/N exactly what she had agreed to. The tent was barely large enough for one person, let alone two, and with Harry's muscular frame, she couldn't fathom how they were meant to sleep without being practically on top of each other.
As Y/N unravelled her sleeping bag, Harry’s head peaked through the entrance, “A few of us are borrowing bikes to head to the nearest gas station to buy things for the barbecue if y’ wanna come.” 
Y/N nodded, “Just give me a second and I’ll be right out.” He nodded and paused as though he wanted to say something else before shaking his head and leaving. Y/N released a sigh and pushed back her hair wondering how she even got into this mess in the first place.
Harry was standing by two bikes, holding Elise in his arms, “A few of ‘em already went ahead.” 
“I didn’t know Elise was gonna be here,” Y/N cooed and pinched the two-year-old's chubby cheek. Harry’s eyes warmed before he placed her in the basket of his bicycle. “Is that safe?” Y/N frowned. 
“Course it is,” He shrugged. 
Soon they were riding side by side with Elise squealing in the basket of Harry’s bike, her small fingers gripping onto the front of the basket as the wind blew through her hair. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as she watched the two year old laugh and scream with excitement. 
Eventually they pulled over into the gas station. Y/N held Elise as Harry grabbed the things they needed for the barbecue, “Do y’ wanna ice cream Elise?” Y/N gasped, taking her to the freezer to pick out an ice cream.
Elise squealed and babbled incoherently as she picked the most colourful ice pop in the whole freezer. Y/N picked out two for herself and Harry to have since it was so hot out and they still needed to ride back to the campsite again.
They sat under a grouping of trees, Elise inbetween Harry’s legs as he helped her eat her ice pop. He’d have to wipe her chin every now and then with how sloppy she was when eating, “There y’ go baby girl, that ice pop ain’t going anywhere,” Harry chuckled as Elise gripped the ice pop in two hands. 
Y/N smiled to herself as she watched the two of them interact, Elise’s adorable antics continuing to amuse them both. She couldn’t help but think about how strangely normal this all felt. Despite the little time they had known the Styles’ siblings, it felt like they had known each other for much longer. The ease with which they connected, the laughter shared between them—it all felt so natural, as if they were meant to be together in that moment.
Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s face with a hint of a smile on his lips, “What’s going on in that head of yours Birdy?”
Y/N smiled, “Nothing, I’m just happy.”
Harry looked surprised, “Y’ are?” 
“Yeah,” She nodded, “I am. Are you?”
Harry thought for a moment, “Yeah Birdy,” He grinned, dimples popping, “I am.” 
Their exchanged smiles lingered for a moment longer before Harry stood up, “We should probably start heading back before the sun goes down.”
“Yeah,” Y/N sighs, she could have stayed right there in that moment for a little longer but she knew they needed to get back to feed the others. 
They picked up their bikes off the floor and began their journey back, stealing glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Y/N’s heart fluttered everytime he caught her eye and looked away bashfully. 
After eating and staying out to talk to her friends, Y/N was already ready for bed and wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She was wearing her pyjamas and an eye mask on top of her head. She wanted to make sure she was the first person in the tent so that she could be the first one to claim her space. 
She tried to relax but her heart was racing when she heard Harry’s voice from outside as he said goodnight to his little sister in the tent next door. Y/N randomly picked up a book she had bought with her and pretended to read as the entrance to the tent lifted open and Harry crawled in. 
He was in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tattooed torso completely bare, “Normally I’d wear less than this but since the lady’s present,” He smirked. 
Y/N scoffed, “How kind,” 
There was nothing but the rustling of his sleeping bag as he crawled into the tight spot next to him. Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt his arm right next to hers as they lay side by side in such close proximity. She immediately sat up, looking down at his relaxed state, “What?” He frowned.
“Can’t you move over a little?” She huffed, even though they both knew there wasn’t exactly anywhere to move. 
His head turned, “Where exactly?”
“I-I don’t know!” She exclaimed.
Harry smiled as though he were amused by her franticness, “Oh c’mon Birdy, I don’t bite. I mean I may get a little bit touchy in the night but that’s no fault of my own.” 
“Harry,” She sighed. 
His expression faltered. "Fine," he muttered. Reaching beside him, he retrieved the blanket he had stowed away. Sitting up, he rolled it up and placed it between them. Y/N settled back down, the blanket now forming a barrier between them. Though it sacrificed some space, she found herself feeling a bit more at ease with the added distance.
“Thank you,” She sighed. 
“Mhm,” Harry huffed. 
A silence settled between them. Y/N, exhausted from the hike, found herself unable to drift off to sleep quickly. Her mind raced as she listened to the man beside her breathing softly. "Y' trust me, don't you, birdy?" he whispered into the darkness.
She thought for a moment, “More than I did before.” 
“But not completely?” Harry’s voice seemed sad, almost defeated. 
She said nothing, wondering what she could say. Of course she trusted him, he had been nothing but good to her these last few months and proved to her he wasn’t what most people said he was. Even if he was a flirt and enjoyed attention from time to time, he was loyal to the people he held close in his life and she adored that about him. 
“You’re getting there,” She whispered but the truth was he was already there. She just didn’t know if she trusted herself. 
Y/N woke up in the middle of the night when she felt something jolt next to her. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of her surroundings. As her eyes adjusted, she realised that Harry was stirring restlessly, his breathing ragged and uneven.
“H-Harry?” Y/N sat up, the sleeping bag falling to her waist. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm to shake him, “Harry wake up,” She urged, voice laced with concern. 
She noticed how he had begun to shiver, his arm covered in goosebumps. Y/N reached to put her hand gently against his forehead and hoped that her touch would provide some warmth to his shivering body. “Harry, you’re dreaming, it’s just a dream.” She tried to coax him out of his sleep without scaring him more than he already was. 
Harry's eyes snapped open, wide with fear as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, and Y/N could see the remnants of tears glistening in his eyes.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Y/N murmured soothingly, her heart aching at the sight of Harry's distress, “You just had a nightmare that’s all.”
Harry's breathing gradually slowed as he focused on Y/N's voice, the warmth of her presence calming whatever dark thing that lurked inside of him. With a shaky exhale, his head fell, “Fuck,” He hissed, “Did I wake y’ up?” He looked up at her, his eyes tired and sad. Y/N warily nodded her head, “M sorry, M so sorry.”
“Hey, Harry, it's fine. It’s okay.” She reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders, she could feel a thin layer of cold sweat on his back as her palm pressed against his shoulder. 
Harry took the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume as if it would be enough to bring him back from whatever memory he was trapped in. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she whispered words of reassurance. She gently stroked his hair, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body.
“It was real,” Harry whispered. 
“W-what?” Y/N pulled away, still holding him.
“M-my old man left me out in the cold one night when I tried to stop him from hurting my Mama. He kicked me out in the backyard and locked the door behind him like I was some old dog.” He spat the words out, full of anger. 
Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, “He hurt you?”
Harry exhaled shakily, as though he was trying not to cry, “Y-yeah he did Birdy, real bad.” The way he said it made Y/N believe it wasn’t the only time his father had hurt him. 
Y/N swallowed back her tears, her throat burning. She held his face in her hands and forced him to look right at her, “Y’ might have to be big and brave for your brothers and Elise but y’ can be whatever you want with me.” She murmured, “I won’t let anything hurt you, Harry.”
His eyes softened, something flashed in them as Y/N moved her face closer to kiss his cheek, tasting the saltiness of his dried tears. “God where have y’ been all my life birdy?” He whispered, their lips inches apart. 
“It doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, “I’m here now.” 
Y/N made space for Harry to lay back down, but he couldn't seem to let go of her. She noticed how he held onto her hand whenever she tried to move away. So, she removed the rolled-up blanket between them and unzipped the tops of both of their sleeping bags. Once they were lying next to each other, she placed the blanket on top of them for extra warmth.
Harry’s arms reached out for her and he didn’t even ask before he was holding her close to his chest. She could hear the beating of his heart as her ear pressed against it. “Y’ not afraid are you?” She asked, peering up at him to see his eyes closed gently. 
“No, that's just how it goes whenever I’m around you. Y’ get used to it after a while, don’t worry.” He murmured. 
Y/N’s heart seemed to pick up pace until it matched his own, “Okay.” She whispered and fell asleep in his arms. 
The next morning, Y/N awoke in the embrace of Harry who was still fast asleep. She thought back to last night and how she had never seen him so afraid before. She pressed a kiss to his cheek when she sat up and tried to leave the tent without making much of a noise. 
She reached for her sweater and pulled it over her torso so she wouldn’t get cold from the morning air. “Good morning sunshine!” Molly grinned, “How’d your first night with the pilot go?”
Patsy giggled, “Yeah how’d it go?”
Y/N bit back a smile, “It was nothing like that and you know it.” She said but they weren’t accepting it as an answer. 
George smirked, “I better not wake up an uncle by tomorrow morning.”
Y/N’s mouth gaped open, she hit him on the arm playfully and grabbed a carton of orange juice from the crate, “I’m two months older than you so I’d be careful!” She glared. 
“Ha! Ha!” Elise grinned, her mouth covered in yogurt as she stood and stumbled over to Y/N’s tent. 
"Good morning, baby girl," Harry's raspy voice greeted, a hint of strain evident as he lifted Elise into his arms, “Y’ sure are a little mess, madam.” He chuckled. 
Y/N tried to resist the urge to look at him as everyone greeted him with a good morning. She settled into one of the camping chairs, folding her legs beneath her, but soon a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sun, “Good morning Birdy,” His voice was deep and raspy. 
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, “Morning Harry.”
“Where’d y’ go? Left me cold in tha’ tent this morning y’ know?” Multiple snorts came from the group around them. 
“I-I was-” She didn’t know what to say and she was pretty sure her face was the colour of a tomato.
“Wake me up next time, yeah?” He smirks, leaving her to grab some of the coffee Molly had made.
“Oh, so there’s a next time huh?” George winked. 
Y/N cleared her throat, feeling flustered from the interaction. "So, what's everyone doing today?" She attempted to change the subject, wondering if there would ever be a moment on this trip where she wouldn't be embarrassed by something she wasn’t expecting. 
. . .
Y/N didn’t see Harry for the rest of the morning as the girls got ready to go swim in the lake for the afternoon. Due to the tent mishap, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten her bathing suit as well but luckily found it at the bottom of her bag. 
Molly was already in a blue, plaid halter one-piece that tied around her neck and Patsy was wearing a yellow one with a bow on the front. Y/N stepped out of the tent after getting changed, “Oh no, you can’t wear that.” Molly was the first to comment. 
Y/N frowned, looking down at her plain black and white striped swimsuit, “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Molly pulled the cigarette from her lips, “Honey y’ look like a crosswalk in upstate New York.” Patsy snorted.
“It’s not that bad,” She huffed, reaching for the suntan lotion only for Molly to snatch it from her grasp. 
“Honey, this trip isn’t just a relaxing break for our pilots - it’s also the chance for us ladies to get a little something out of it. Think about it, all those men do is work and all we do is sit around waiting for some excitement. Y’ think Patsy and I want to camp in tents? Y’ think we want to hike up hills? No of course not, most of the ladies here come because they want a little fun. They want to flirt and be romanced by a pilot who we might never see again.” 
Y/N’s eyes widened, “Really?”
“Really,” Patsy nodded. 
Molly brushed past her and walked to her tent to pull out something from her bag, “Y’ lucky I’m an overpacker.” She unfolded the material and held up a red, polka dot swimsuit with a sweetheart neckline and a scoop back. 
“I can’t wear that!” Y/N almost gasped, she couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone saw.
Molly rolled her eyes, “You don’t think we’ve all seen you with Harry? He’s head over heels for you! Put this on and I guarantee you’ll be thanking yourself for forgetting that tent.” 
Y/N hesitated, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. The thought of Harry's reaction to seeing her in such a swimsuit sent a flutter of anticipation through her stomach. With a playful roll of her eyes, she took the swimsuit from Molly's outstretched hand. "Fine, but only because you're relentless."
Harry was already by the lake with his brothers and some of the other pilots working on Offutt. He was lying on a towel with his sunglasses on and swimming trunks hanging on his hips, smoking a cigarette. “Oh shit, I didn’t know Nancy was coming on this trip,” George said, taking a swig of his glass bottled beer as he sat down. Nancy was sitting with a group of friends, lounging on the dock, “She sure is something in that swimsuit, H. Would y’ look at her- pure sunlight she is.” 
Harry chuckled, “Yeah, sunlight, sure. Think you’ve had one too many of those beers George. Why don’t y’ go over and talk to her?”
“Are you kidding me? She spews venom every time I try to talk to her.” George says, “And she likes you more anyway. I don’t know why though, everybody knows you’re with Y/N.”
Harry’s ears perk at the mention of her name, “What are you talking about? We’re not together.”
“Uhuh, keep talking and your nose will get bigger than it already is,” 
Harry sits up to lightly hit his brother but he pauses when he sees his mouth drop open, “What are you staring at?” Harry turns around, following George’s gaze.
That's when he notices Molly and Patsy approaching, both clad in their swimsuits. Yet, it's not them who have captured the attention of not only George but seemingly everyone else as well. Y/N walks in between them in a swimsuit that reveals the soft skin of her thighs and the curve of her breasts from the low neckline. Her hair is pinned up and tied with a red ribbon, her smile so bright it overtook the light from the sun.
Harry felt a rush of breathlessness as he removed his sunglasses, unable to tear his gaze away from Y/N. "Have mercy," he muttered to himself, rising from the ground and striding over to the girls, with Sonny and George trailing behind him. 
The girls laid their towels out on the ground as the boys were walking over, “Looking swell Patsy,” Sonny’s eyes were fixed on her cleavage.
“My eyes are up here Sonny,” Patsy spoke, monotonously. 
Harry ignored everyone else as he stepped in front of Y/N. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. He felt his cock stir in his swim shorts as she licked her bottom lip, sending a jolt of heat through him. Harry knew he needed to get a grip on himself before things got out of hand. 
He glanced around and noticed eyes staring at the girl in front of him, “Hi Birdy,” 
Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “H-Hi Harry,” She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 
“Are you saving this swimsuit for someone or?” He smirked, wanting to get a rise out of her. He liked seeing her cheeks turn red whenever he attempted to flirt with her. 
“M-Molly and Patsy wanted me to wear it. I wasn’t sure at first but they thought it looked good. I feel like it’s a little too much, what do you think? Do you think it’s too much?” Harry’s eyes softened as she rambled nervously to him. 
Sensing her self-consciousness, he put her at ease by saying, “Y’ look beautiful Y/N,” 
She took a deep breath, “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure about anything in my life,” He murmured, reaching his hand out to hold her own. Y/N offers a shy smile. 
“I don’t know about you all but I’m just about melting from how hot it is. Are any of you going in the water?” Molly asked, receiving a nodding of heads in response. 
“What do y’ say we go for a swim huh?” He smirks. 
Y/N suddenly gets all embarrassed again, “H-Harry, I need to tell you something,”
“What’s wrong?” He was immediately concerned. 
“The thing is, I don’t know how to swim all that well.” She confessed, “We don’t have anything like this back home so I never really got the chance to learn.”
Harry snickered, “How’s about I teach y’ hmm?” 
She purses her lips and then nods, “Okay Harry.” 
They walk hand in hand to the dock. Harry notices Nancy’s glare as they walk past her and gives Y/N’s hand a small squeeze in assurance. He’s first to jump in the water, submerging underneath and swimming up to the surface. 
Y/N stood on the edge of the dock with her toes hanging over the edge, “Oh I’m not so sure about this Harry,” She said, uncertain as she realised how deep the water was. 
“It’s alright darling, I’m right here,” He holds his arms out, ready for her to leap right into them, “I’ll catch you before your head even goes underwater, wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty hair now would I?”
“No,” She says and he knows she wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying, too busy worrying about jumping in.
“M right here Y/N, you can do it. Get in the water darling, c’mon.” He coaxes her and thinks she’s about to do it but she hesitates. 
“I can’t! I really can’t Harry.” Y/N shakes her head. 
“C’mon Y/N, you can do it!” Molly and Patsy cheer for her, already swimming in the lake with Elise in their arms. 
“Alright Birdy, on the count of three,” Harry’s smiling even though he knows it’s hard for her. “One…”
“I can’t!” She bends her knees slightly. 
“Two…” He shouts, people clapping and cheering now. 
“Harry seriously!” She giggles, her eyes squeezing shut. 
“Three!” 
“I can’t do it,”
“Birdy get in the water!” He yells and then laughs because she’s laughing too at her own silliness, “I’m sorry daring, will you please get in the water.”
Y/N closes her eyes, bends her legs and screams, using one foot to leap into the water. Harry’s already there waiting to catch her and drag her up. It’s almost instinctive as he grabs her hips and feels her legs wrap around his waist beneath the water. Her head emerged and she quickly wrapped both her arms around his neck. “That’s m’ girl,” He cheered, everyone joining in as Y/N emerged with a smile. 
“It’s cold,” She laughed, water coming out her nose. 
“It’s not so bad,” Their faces were close, if he moved any closer he’d almost be kissing her. 
“Are you gonna teach me how to swim now?” Y/N asked, her teeth biting her bottom lip. 
“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged, grinning, “I kinda like having y’ like this.”
Y/N splashed him with water, “What if I drown?”
“I won’t let you,” He said as though it were a matter of fact.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “But what if I’m eighty and you can’t swim anymore but I wanna swim instead.”
He knew she was being silly but he liked the fact that she considered him to be a part of her life for that long. A spark of hope flashed within him, “I’ll probably just swim with y’ anyway. I mean it would be a sight to see Birdy but wherever you go I go.”
Y/N huffed, “Fine if you won’t teach me to swim, you’ll just have to carry me around in the water.”
“Sounds like a dream,” Harry joked, “Where to first Birdy?”
She pointed to her two friends who were keeping Elise entertained in the water and Harry grinned, understanding her silent request. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he scooped Y/N up into his arms and waded into the water towards Molly and Patsy, Elise's delighted squeals echoing around them.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake, they reluctantly made their way back to shore after spending the whole afternoon swimming. As it was the last night, people had been preparing for a bonfire - a tradition created to commemorate the end of the trip. Sonny and George were already sitting with Nancy’s group of friends as they waited for the bonfire to be lit, the other’s going to join them. 
Elise was napping in Patsy’s arms as they sat together, wrapped in towels and talking. Harry pulled Y/N down to sit next to him on one of the logs, pulling her into his side. He noticed she was shivering as the air turned cooler and silently reached for the sweatshirt he had brought with him to pull over her head. She thanked him quietly in return. 
Eventually, the evening air was filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the sound of laughter as they settled in for a cosy night by the fire. Someone pulled out a guitar, and soon the sound of music filled the air, blending with the sounds of voices and the crackling of the flames. 
Harry excused himself from Y/N's side for a moment to join his brothers and friends for a smoke. Despite the distance, he couldn't help but steal glances at her now and then, his heart warming at the sight of her. Each time she took over from Patsy in looking after Elise as she slept, a sense of peace settled within him.
It had always worried Harry that Elise wouldn’t have another woman in her life to provide the things she needed that Harry and his brothers knew nothing about. There was something profoundly comforting about seeing Y/N with his baby sister. It wasn't just the way she cradled Elise with such care, or the gentle sway of her movements as she rocked the sleeping girl. It was the way Elise seemed to instinctively trust her, snuggling closer to Y/N as if she sensed the warmth and safety she provided.
Harry turned his back on her momentarily to extinguish his cigarette in the dirt. But when he faced his friend again, his attention was drawn to someone approaching the girls. It was a man he recognized, someone Nancy and her friends had been conversing with for most of the day. He observed as Y/N smiled, but he could sense her discomfort as she subtly retreated while he continuously tried to get closer to her.
Harry began to slowly walk towards them until he could make sense of some of what the stranger was saying. The closer he got, the clearer it became that the man's words were laced with suggestive undertones, and Harry's protective instincts surged to the forefront. 
As he approached, he caught Y/N's eye, and he could see the silent plea for help in her gaze. “Hey fella, I think you’ve had enough,” Harry said, his tone firm as he confronted the guy. 
The thug sneered at Harry, clearly not appreciating the interference. "Mind your own business, pretty boy. The lady seems to be enjoying my company just fine," he retorted, a smug grin on his face.
Harry’s jaw clenched, “I don’t wanna have to ask y’ again to leave her alone.” He warned, his voice laced with a steely edge.
The man stood up and Harry tried to keep calm when he saw the frightened look in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t going to fight in front of her and he wasn’t going to wake his sister who was now in Molly’s arms. Although Molly, as though sensing there was going to be a fight, backed away and bought Elise somewhere away from the campfire. 
Harry looked behind the man who was a few inches shorter than him, “Was he bothering y’ birdy?” He pointed at the thug who was trying to intimidate her.
“H-Harry-” Y/N stood and tried to reach for him but he held up a hand to stop her. 
People were watching, the noise had quietened down as a thick tension fell over the camp, “I just wanted to talk to the pretty bitch over here. You know she was asking for it the way she was wearing that swimsuit all day.” The sick thug chuckled. 
“You think that’s funny huh?” Harry faked a smile, stepping forward until he was right up close to the man, “Y’ know, my old man told me that when a guy makes comments like that to a young lady, it means something.” 
“Oh yeah? What does it mean?” The thug spoke, as though he was in on some kind of joke Harry was making. 
Harry’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Their cock’s too small to find.” With a swift movement, he clenched his fist and swung, the impact landing squarely on the man's jaw. The thug stumbled back, stunned by the force of the blow, and Harry wasted no time in delivering another punch, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“Harry!” Y/N gasped as Patsy screamed in shock. 
People gathered around to watch as the two men delivered punch after punch at each other. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears as she watched Harry get hit repeatedly, his entire face covered in blood. 
“George!” Y/N ran over to him, “Y’ gotta stop it,”
“What am I meant to do? That guy’s huge!” George exclaimed although he also looked worried for his older brother. 
“Please,” Y/N begged, “He’ll kill him.”
George hesitated for a moment, torn between the instinct to protect his brother and the fear of intervening in the dangerous fight. But the sight of Harry, bloodied and battered, spurred him into action.
"Sonny, help me!" George called out to his younger brother, who immediately rushed to his side. Together, they managed to pull Harry off of the thug he was punching, their combined strength enough to separate Harry from him.
Breathing heavily, Harry glared at the man lying on the ground, spitting out blood from his mouth as he did, before turning to face Y/N. Despite the pain etched on his face, his eyes softened as he reached out to her. "I'm okay," he assured her, his voice hoarse.
“Y-you’re hurt,” She was in shock, unable to believe this was real and not just some nightmare she was having. 
“I’m okay baby,” He heaved, spitting out more blood onto the floor. 
Before the man could get up and try to hit him again, Sonny, George and Y/N led Harry away from the bonfire. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of Harry's injuries, her hands trembling as she gently touched his bruised cheek. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, one of his eyes already beginning to swell. 
They managed to lead Harry away from the chaos of the campfire, guiding him towards their tents where they could tend to his injuries in privacy and ignoring the gossip that was whispered amongst everybody. Y/N caught sight of Nancy who stood up and looked over at Harry with concern etched on her features. 
“Put him down here,” Y/N pointed to one of the logs for him to sit on and ran to grab a first aid kit she had packed in her backpack as a precaution and a wet cloth to wipe his face with. Harry groaned at the impact, hunching forward and clutching his ribs in pain. 
Y/N knelt in between his legs in front of him and opened up the kit, “You two should head on back, make the most of the rest of the night,” She told them as she placed the wet cloth to remove the blood from Harry’s face. 
“Are you sure Y/N?” Sonny scratched the back of his neck, “We can help if you want.”
“And do what? All I’m gonna do is fix his wounds and then go to bed. I don’t want you two to miss out and ruin the rest of the trip.” It was only ten thirty so there was still plenty of time to spend at the bonfire. “The girls are leaving Elise with one of the families and I’ll pick her up in the morning. Everything is fine, you two go and have fun.”
Harry hissed as she applied disinfectant to his cuts, “Well alright,” George said, still unsure, “But you’ll come get us if something goes wrong?” 
Y/N nodded, trying her best to smile, “I promise I’ll come get you.”
They soon left and Y/N was left alone with Harry writhing in pain, “I’m sorry Y/N.” His voice came out a whisper.
Y/N’s jaw clenched, “That was silly, y’ could have easily diffused the situation without delivering the first punch.”
“He was asking for it and I won’t allow anyone to talk to y’ that way. I saw how scared you looked when he was talking to you. God Y/N,” Harry exhaled heavily through his nose, “I think I saw red - I’ve never been so angry before.” 
Y/N sighed, “I know you were just trying to look out for me but you frightened me and I-”
“I did?” His voice sounded hurt, taking Y/N aback.
“A-A little,” She admitted, “I thought you were gonna die.”
“I can’t die, you know that,” He tried to crack a smile but his face hurt too much, “I never want to scare you, you know that right?” 
Y/N said nothing, “Hey,” He cupped her face in his hand, “I never want to scare you, ever.” 
“I know,” She shrugged him off, “Just don’t ever do that again.” 
Harry looked at her with a furrowed brow, unsure what to think of how she was feeling, “Alright,” His shoulders dropped, “I won’t.” 
Harry thought better than to interrupt her as she tended to the cuts and bruises on his face and hands. His eyes stayed fixated on her as she focused on fixing him up. He was pretty sure his pupils had carved themselves into hearts with how much adoration he had whilst looking at her. Her hair was wavy and tangled from swimming in the river, she had caught the sun a little so her face was tinged red and she was wearing his sweatshirt that was much too big for her small form. 
“I think that’s as good as it gets,” She whispered, eyes darting across his face. 
As she was about to pull away, Harry tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. Y/N looked down as he curled his fingers around her wrist and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pulse point, “Thank you,” He murmured, doing his best to look at her despite his black eye. 
Y/N helped Harry into the tent, trying to make it easy for him to lay down comfortably without feeling any pain from where he had taken a few hits on his torso. She crawled in beside him and lay on her side to look at him, “Do you need anything?” She kept her voice quiet. 
Harry shook his head, “Just you here is fine.” 
Y/N swallowed, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.” 
A silence fell over them, the tension felt palpable now that they were alone together. There was so much that needed to be said hanging in the space between them - things that had been brushed off or put to one side all so they could build trust. But perhaps as their trust in each other grew, they began to question their own judgement and feel uncertain about themselves. 
“Y/N,” Harry whispered, breaking the silence. He rarely said her name now, often replacing it with the nickname he had given her, so hearing it from his lips sounded sweet like a term of endearment. 
“H-Harry,” She said back, unsure of what he was going to say.
“My old man used to hurt me and m’ family a lot,” He started, Y/N’s heart hurting for the man in front of her and his younger siblings, “When I grew older, I started t’ fight him back and I got so good at it. Not that that’s something to brag about but… I-I guess when I see the people I love, like my Mama and my brothers and Elise, in pain, I just get so angry. I-it’s like I see red every time and all I can think about is how much I want to hurt the cause of their pain.”
Y/N stayed quiet, allowing him time and space for his moment of vulnerability, “But I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as I had been tonight. It’s like I saw you flinch and I swore I could have killed him.”
“Harry,” Y/N gasped, wanting to reach out for him. 
Harry turned over, wincing at the pain but needing to look at her as he spoke, “I ain’t stopped thinking about that kiss since it happened. When I sleep rough, I picture it to help me get back to sleep. Y’ seem to settle something in me that no one else can and… I don’t know what to do about it.” 
Y/N’s heart thundered against her chest like it was trying to leap out, “Watching y’ with my family, being with y’ every day - it is the one good thing in my life. You are the one good thing in my life, the only thing that is wholly and completely mine. I don’t know how to quit y’ Birdy, I’ve been trying because I thought y’ wanted to do this whole friends thing for a little longer but I think about you when I sleep, when I eat, when I’m a hundred feet in the air - Hell, I even think about you when I’m holding Elise, imagining you being there and holding her and how much I want that with you.”
Y/N felt her eyes burn with tears, “Y-you do?” She said her voice barely above a whisper. 
“I do darling,” He shuffles forward and reaches a hand out for hers under the blanket.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” Y/N confesses, feeling the weight on her chest ease with each word she spoke, “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you since the moment I saw you.” 
“You haven’t?” Harry questioned like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I haven’t,” Y/N affirmed, “Somehow it seems you’ve set up camp somewhere in there,” She placed a hand over his heart, “‘S a little annoying really,” She giggled. 
Harry grinned, his head moving closer to hers. Y/N’s smile fell when she felt his breath blow across her face. Her eyes darted down to his lips, “Are we going to kiss again?” She asked. 
“Do y’ want to kiss again?” He murmured, his lips feathering across hers. 
“I do, so badly, I do.” She was almost begging. 
“Well alright then,” His voice husky with desire. With that, he closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips with his. 
The kiss ignited something within them both. Months of longing and watching from afar, releasing into this moment.  Harry's lips moved with an urgency as Y/N sighed deeply in relief,  their mouths melding together. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as if to bridge any remaining space between them.
Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Harry's hair as she deepened the kiss, her heart racing with every beat. The world around them faded into insignificance as if they were the only two people remaining in the world and they were all each other had. 
Y/N’s hand went under his shirt, feeling his warm body beneath her fingertips as she slid them up his torso. Harry gripped her hips hard enough to move her on top of him. Her bare legs were between his and he remembered she was still wearing her swimsuit beneath her sweatshirt.  “Harry,” She whispered, breathless. She was tugging on the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to take it off.
He shot up and she pulled his shirt over his head. Y/N marvelled at his muscular, tattooed body, she’d seen it plenty of times before but she could never seem to get over how perfectly built he was. Harry was eager to kiss her again, but Y/N hesitated. Her fingers went to the hem of her sweatshirt, and she pulled it over her head. Then, she did something that left Harry breathless.
She pulled the straps of her swimsuit down, leaving her upper body completely bare. Harry had never seen something so ethereal. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends falling at her supple, rounded breasts, her nipples hardened from the cold air. Harry felt his cock stir in his shorts and he was pretty sure Y/N knew what was happening from the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted. 
“We don’t have to...” Harry wasn’t sure where this night was going to go but Y/N stopped him.
“I want to,” She whispered, “I want you.”
“Y/N,” He murmured, unable to believe this wasn’t all a dream. 
“Shhh,” She shushed him and pressed her lips against his again. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together. 
Harry tossed the blanket to one side with his lips still attached to her. He pressed kisses down her neck, sucking and biting on her skin leaving a mark that would tell him in the morning that this was all real. Y/N could feel the bulge in his boxers beneath her as she straddled his lap. She rolled her hips against him, Harry groaning against her lips in response. 
Y/N gasped when Harry thrust his clothed cock against her core. She could feel the dampening of her swimsuit as her pussy grew wet the harder he ground against her, “Harry,” She breathed, his lips ghosting against her jawline, “I want you to put it in me,” She said, her desire overruling everything.
“Yeah?” His voice came out raspy, “Y want my cock in your pussy darling girl?” He looked up at her with hooded eyes.
Y/N immediately nodded, desperate to feel him inside of her, “Take me out then baby,” He ordered.
Y/N swallowed and tugged on the waistband of his shorts, her fingers fumbling to pull him out. Her eyes widened when she saw the outline of his cock against the fabric. She reached into his shorts and felt his cock beneath her hand, wrapping her fingers around it only to realise how big he was as she pumped her hand up and down. Harry clenched his jaw, his head falling back as he released a moan. 
“Gonna take off the rest of that swimsuit baby?” Harry murmured, playing with the nylon fabric. Y/N nodded and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug the swimsuit off of her body. Harry’s mouth fell open as her wetness touched his thighs. “Look at tha’ making a mess all over me hmm?” He tutted, his eyes looking down at her bare, pretty pussy. “So pretty, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I need you so bad Harry,” Y/N mewled, her head dropping forward onto his shoulder as she went back to pumping his cock. He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her. 
“I know baby, I know.” He cooed.
He helped her a little by pulling his shorts down from his hips. He almost died when he saw how much bigger his cock looked in her smaller hand, “Will it fit?” Y/N asked, eyes looking up at him big and round. 
Harry glanced at her pussy, “Dunno baby, y’ pussy’s so small,” He sighed, “Might hurt y’”
“But it’ll fit, I know it will,” She insisted because if he refused she’d probably pass out. 
“Oh yeah?” He looked at her with a cocky grin, “Look at you, you’re so desperate for it.” He reached out to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth as she looked at his aching length.
His lips went to her ear, feeling her shiver beneath his touch as he breathed, “Show me.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open. 
“Show me how it fits in y’ baby,” He muttered. 
Y/N swallowed and nodded, exhaling shakily. She sat up on her knees, lifting her hips and shifting herself so her pussy was directly above Harry’s cock. Harry waited patiently, moving his hands to her hips and giving them a soft squeeze in encouragement. She grabbed the base of his cock in her hand and lowered her hips until she felt the tip nudge against her hole. She gasped when she lowered her hips a little further and the thick crown of his cock squeezed through the opening of her core.
“There y’ go,” He inhaled, “Tha’s my girl.” Y/N nodded, unable to think as his cock stretched her open inch by inch in the most delicious way, squeezing and pulsing against the walls of her pussy the further it entered her.
“‘S it all the way in yet?” She whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut.
Harry looked down and groaned when he saw half of his cock submerged in her tight pussy, “Almost baby,” 
“Okay,” She mewled, sinking further onto his cock until he was so deep inside of her. She whined, her head dropping forward when she felt the tip of his cock nudge the walls of her cervix and his balls pressed against her ass. 
“Fuck baby,” Harry moaned, pressing a longing kiss to the top of her head.
“Y so deep,” Y/N’s words came out slurred. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, getting used to the feeling of his cock inside of her. “M ready now,” She whispered.
“Yeah? Y’ sure?” He wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was in complete control of the situation.
Y/N didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted herself up and then sank back down on his cock, feeling it rub against the walls of her sopping, wet cunt as she did. She repeated the action, her head falling backwards, back arching; she had to grip Harry’s calves to keep her from falling back. She was seeing stars every time she bounced on his cock, “It feels so good Harry,” She whimpered.
Harry grabbed her waist, helping her move up and down on his cock, “I know it does baby,” He moaned, “Does it feel good knowing ‘m so deep? Only I can touch y’ that deep baby, fuck,” He drawled. 
Y/N pushed herself up and removed her hands from his calves to his shoulders, using them as an aid to help her move up and down. Harry moved his head forward and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting. He pressed spongy kisses down the center of her breasts, “Can y’ feel me right here darling girl?” He whispered, pressing his hand to her belly where his cock protruded every time she sank back down on him.
“Please Harry,” She whined, unsure exactly what she was asking for but so consumed by the intense pleasure she was feeling. 
“Please what?” His lips ghosted against her jawline, sweat coated their skin from how warm the tent was. He tugged on the ends of Y/N’s hair, “Y’ want me t’ put a baby in y’ is that what you're asking?” Y/N groaned, lips parting as the air left her lungs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? Can feel you clenching round m’ cock baby. Darling girl wants me to put a baby in her?” 
Harry thrust his hips harder into her when he received no reply, “Want me to fill you up and put a baby in you hmmm? Do y’ like the idea of having my baby inside of you? Making y’ belly all round and swollen and having everyone at Offutt knowing that baby inside of you is all mine.”
“Y-Yes Harry,” She gasped.
“Yeah? Y’ wanna make me a daddy baby? Be m’ perfect mama waiting on me with your perfect pregnant belly?”
“Mhm,” Y/N choked, his words making her heart pound. Her eyes began to water, feeling overwhelmed with how good she felt.
“Do you want me to cum inside of you?” He kisses her chin, “Know y’ ready to cum baby. Y’done so well.” He moves his hand in between them and starts to rub circles on her clit. Y/N’s gasping for breath, whining and writhing on top of him. 
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” She says over and over again like some sacred prayer, a stray tear falling from her eye.
“I know baby, I know you’re tired and ready to cum.” His lips puckering to leave a kiss where the salty tear once was on the side of her cheek. He could feel the burning in his belly as his orgasm began to build. He would have cum ages ago if he wasn’t so set on cumming with her. He could feel her cunt tighten around his cock, squeezing him harder. “Cum with me darling.” He murmured.
Y/N felt the coil in her belly burst as she clenched around his cock as she came. Harry’s quiet moans filled the tent as his cum painted the walls of her insides. He makes sure his whole cock is all the way in her even though he knows it won’t do anything, the thought of filling her up with his seed makes him cum even harder. 
Y/N collapses into his chest, her head falling on his shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut and her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath from the intensity of her release. She feels Harry’s heart thumping hard against his chest, his hand smoothing up and down her back as he lays his forehead on her shoulder. 
Y/N whimpers when Harry moves and shakes her head, “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” She asks, tiredly.
Harry kisses her shoulder, “For as long as y’ want.” 
“Thank you,” She murmurs, feeling as though she could fall asleep exactly like this. His cock was still inside of her, she could feel the stickiness of his cum dripping on her thighs, but it felt so good to be so full of him. 
“C’mon darling girl,” Harry kissed her cheek, “Time to sleep.” 
Y/N shuddered when Harry removed his cock, her pussy pulsing around nothing whilst she felt his cum gush out of her. Harry brought his fingers to her thighs and began to push his cum back into her sensitive cunt. Y/N inhaled deeply, shuddering as she felt his fingers stuffing her empty hole with his cum. 
He gently laid her down beside him, her body placid. He grabbed the blanket and laid it across her body to stop her from getting cold, “Your bruises,” Y/N whispered, cupping his cheek in her hand and brushing her thumb over the bruise on his eye.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” He told her, he’d completely forgotten he was even in pain after she admitted his feelings for her. 
“Promise?” She whispered. 
“I promise,” He kissed the tip of her nose and then laid down next to her, wrapping her in his arms. She hooked her leg around his waist and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you Y/N.” He whispered. 
Y/N smiled, he could feel her lips curving against him, “I love you too Harry.” 
Y/N woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Memories of last night flashing through her mind like each individual scene from a movie reel. Her whole body was filled with warmth, her core aching from the acts she had partaken in just last night. 
She turned over, expecting to see Harry still asleep beside her only to find an empty space. With a frown, she sat up and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, searching for her underwear and the sweater she had borrowed from him yesterday to cover herself up. 
She crawled out of the tent and glanced around, trying to find the man she had confessed her feelings to. She hoped he was somewhere smoking a cigarette or maybe decided to go for a swim before they had to make the hike back to the Air Base later on. 
Y/N stood on shaky legs and wrapped her arms around herself. She caught sight of Sonny and Patsy walking over with a bucket of fresh water. Y/N waved and tried her best to smile at them even though the feeling of dread began to swarm in the pit of her stomach. Sonny’s head turned in her direction and his expression faltered , “Hey guys,” Y/N said, her voice slightly raspy, “H-Have any of you seen Harry this morning?”
The uneasy silence that followed, punctuated by the grim expressions on Sonny and Patsy's faces, already made Y/N regret ever asking the question in the first place.
p.s y/n is on birth control just wanna make that clear heh
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