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willowbelle · 6 months

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hi! welcome to my first fic! i enjoyed writing this a bit too much, so this is long, my loves. strap in & enjoy~

A New Routine, A New Man

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: finger sucking, breast play, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), face-fucking, slight facial, begging, edging, praise, piv sex, unprotected sex (don’t), overstimulation, light spanking, very slight degradation, creampie, fluff at the end.

summary: reader is a member of the heart pirates. Law is mysterious (duh), reader is trying to figure him out (aren’t we all?), Law walks in on reader showering (hehe), Law breaks his strict routine. super nsfw but super fluffy at the end!

word count: ~6,000

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

A New Routine, A New Man

Law’s routine always remained the same, that’s how he liked it, and that’s how you came to know it so well.

At 7am, he’d awaken. He’d shower, brush his teeth, and head to breakfast, book in hand. Law would take a mere ten minutes to eat, the same thing everyday, a cup of black coffee and a bowl of oatmeal, boring. He’d then head to his office to work for hours on end, and treat patients if need be. Law ate lunch in his office. He stayed there as time lulled on, all day, everyday. Until dinner, of course. He’d emerge from his room quietly, gray eyes tired, adorned with deep eyebags to show it. He would sit at the table with everyone and pick at his plate. He never said much. Once he finished cleaning up after himself, he’d wish you all a good night and walk down the hallway to his room to sleep. At least, that was what you had always assumed. He was detached, emotionally distant, that was for damn sure, filling his head with nothing but the words and images from his medical textbooks. But damn, the man was smart, calculated, and precise in everything that he did. From the way in which he prepared his morning coffee, to the medical procedures he conducted, Law was a meticulous man.

Today, Law’s strict routine would change.

You leaned back into your chair, sinking down a bit as you played with your hair, rolling and twisting the strands between your fingertips.

“Something wrong?” Bepo spoke, concerned.

“Yeah, just curious,” you answered, plainly.

The polar bear nudges you with his fuzzy shoulder, nearly knocking you over.

“Oops,” he chuckles, “What about?”

“What do you think he does in there after dinner?” your voice quiets down as you speak, motioning to Law’s room by a tilt of your head.

Bepo takes a bite of his food then shrugs and answers, mouth full, “I don’t know, never really thought about it. Probably reads that same boring book then goes to sleep,” he chuckles and shakes his head, “at least, I hope he does. The man could use some shut eye.”

Bepo continued to speak but you weren't listening anymore, his voice drowning out into the back of your mind. You were thinking about him, your captain of little words, you were thinking about Trafalgar Law.

“Y/n? Y/n!” The increase in volume of Bepo’s voice brought you back to the present, where you were seated at the dining table with your crewmates, fork still in hand.

“Why do you care?”

“Huh?”

“I said why do you care, y/n? What captain does?”

“I just-” your voice trails off, your head turning to Law’s room again.

“Jeez, with the way you’re acting, I'm starting to think you’re the one in need of sleep,” Bepo laughs again.

“Shower,” you said, placing your hands on the table and rising to your feet, “I need to shower. That’ll clear my head,” although you were speaking aloud, you really just needed to tell yourself.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Bepo says, placing a paw on your shoulder.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

After you gathered your toiletries from your room, you began to make your way to the crew’s shared bathroom. As you walked by Law’s room, you took a moment to stop to listen against the door. Nothing. Quiet. You let out a sigh and continued your journey to the bathroom.

Everyone knew that the lock to the bathroom door had been broken for some time now, so you did your due diligence and knocked a few times before twisting the knob, “Hello?” you inquired, “anyone in there?” nothing but silence, so you pressed on and entered the room. You were pleased to find that it was completely empty, just as you had hoped.

You removed your clothes carefully and placed them on the counter, then tied up your hair in a messy bun before reaching in and twisting the faucet on as hot as it could go, humming softly to yourself as you watched the water fall from the showerhead. As the water warmed up, you retreated to the sink to inspect yourself in the mirror, waiting until steam began to cover it before entering the shower.

Although the shower was meant to clear your head, not fog it, you found your thoughts being consumed by nothing but Law. You sighed softly and ran your fingers through your now damp hair. You had always found your captain attractive. Ever since you joined the crew about a year and a half ago, you wanted him. Wanted to know what it was like to know him, to really know him. To touch his skin, to trace the dark ink that decorated his toned body beneath your fingertips, to taste him on your tongue, to hear his low, gravely voice in your ear each and every night, telling you just how damn good you made him feel. God, your head was spinning.

His stoic, cold demeanor was unchanging, and yet, you felt your everblooming, insatiable appetite for him growing day by day. you wanted to break his facade, crack open and expose his desires for no one but you to see. Would he be as meticulous with how he fucked you? Careful, quiet, sturdy. Or would a beast emerge from within him and rail you like an animal in heat? Messy, loud, uncontrolled.

You would give anything to discover the answer.

The steam in the shower rose like the heat in your stomach, creeping up and into your veins, making your limbs tingle as you envisioned the scene in your head; what it would be like to feel him come undone beneath your fingertips, to ruin his infamous hard-hearted attitude.

You thought nothing would be able to break you away from your daydreaming, not even the boiling water you bathed beneath, but oh, you were wrong.

What finally snapped you out of your trafalgar law-daydreaming-trance was the sound of the bathroom door knob twisting.

Your heart sunk into your stomach at the thought of any of your male crewmates walking in on you showering, especially in the state you were in now, face blushing harshly, heat pooled in your stomach, slick running down your legs as you envisioned your captain in such a lewd way.

You listened as footsteps made their way towards the shower, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You should’ve yelled out, told whoever it was that the bathroom was occupied, but for some reason, you were frozen, your voice refusing to exit your throat.

“Y/n…” a familiar deep voice began, “I’m so sorry I-”

You turned to face the “intruder”, eyes wide and hands trembling with apprehension as you cleared the steam from the glass shower door.

“Law…” you began shyly, but you couldn't help but giggle to yourself as you noticed his predicament. The tall, tattooed man before you had on nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his left hand was up and covering his eyes, his right holding the towel up.

You breath hitched in your throat, and you bit your bottom lip as you noticed the faintest blush on his cheeks and the evidence of his erection beneath his towel. This gave you all the confidence you needed.

You took a deep breath, quietly, before turning off the faucet and stepping out of the shower, your body hot and dripping water onto the bathmat beneath you.

“Law,” you started, reducing your voice to a sultry whisper, “it’s okay…”

You reached for his large tattooed hand, the one covering his eyes, pulling it from his face to expose yourself to him.

You tilted your chin to look up at his face, giving him your best doe eyes.

“How long had you been standing there, Captain?” you inquired, eyes motioning to his erection.

You felt your face heat up as you awaited his response, surprised at your own boldness, you took it a step further.

“Seems like it must've been quite a while,” you continued, eyes darting back up to meet his.

Here it was, the moment you never thought you’d see, your cold, rigid, so-fucking-type-a captain… flustered.

Trafalgar Law’s face was red and bothered, his inked digits gripping his towel even tighter now.

He couldn’t help but stare at you; your wet body, your curves, your breasts, your wet hair, blushing face, it was all too much for him. He hesitantly outstretched his muscular arm, cradling your cheek in his large hand.

You instinctively pressed your face into it, still staring up at him.

“What if I asked you something similar,” he began, stroking your cheek with his tattooed thumb, D. The digit makes its way to your lips, rubbing softly against them, silently asking for permission to enter, Law humming as you comply so obediently, opening your cavern for D to explore, sucking on it like candy.

You continue to suckle on his thumb, lust-blown pupils still staring up at him, awaiting his question.

“I’d like to know how long you've been trying to figure out my daily routine, and this,” he emphasizes the situation by pressing his thumb harder into your tongue as he speaks, “was it out of pattern?” he smirks, smugness decorating his face.

You gulped, his digit still encased within your mouth.

How did he--? You stopped the thought right then and there, for fuck’s sake, it was Law, with his observant nature, of course he has noticed you eyeing his every move. You were impressed, but not surprised, with how he remained so goddamned unbothered.

Your mind was racing, this smug man before you was the same one who had just been so flustered? But then again, this was more in-character for him than that blushing mess of a man.

“Law…” you started, popping his thumb out of your mouth, “do you want--”

But before you could finish, Law had leaned down and collided his lips with yours.

The kiss was nothing like you imagined, fuck, it was far better than you imagined.

You figured Law would go about romantic and sexual interactions the same way he did everything, calm, cool, and collected, but oh, this kiss was anything but that.

This kiss was a flurry of emotions, lips parting and colliding back together as if one pair were oxygen when the other was suffocating.

This kiss was intense, passionate, and lust-filled. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced. His tongue slid across your lips, begging to enter, and you complied, parting your wet lips for him to explore. His hot tongue danced with yours as you moaned into his mouth, begging for more.

Law’s strong hands ravaged your body as he made out with you, trailing up and down your sides, up to your chest to find your breasts, molding them in his big hands, pinching and rolling your hard nipples in between his hardworking, calloused fingertips.

You instinctively threw your head back, breaking this kiss, exposing your neck to him as moans and fluttery breaths escaped your lips while your captain had his way with you.

Law was panting heavily as a result of the passion of your makeout session. He sounded beautiful; low, desperate breaths, and you wish you could capture the noises in your brain to keep forever. Once he caught his breath, he glanced down at you momentarily, gray eyes lidded and ridden with lust and desire. He held the gaze for a moment before leaning forward to attack your neck, suckling and nipping at the soft, untouched skin, making you gasp. Your hands flew up and into his dark, unkempt hair, squeezing and pulling at the strands between your fingers. The action causes Law to groan, and you feel your core tighten at the lewd noises escaping his throat.

Suddenly, he pulls away, making you whine at the loss of contact. Your head is fuzzy and there are stars beneath your eyelids, but you gather yourself enough to look up at him. He backs away slightly, still staring down at you, toned, tattooed chest rising and falling as he breathes heavily.

“Y/n…” he starts, voice low and ridden with arousal, “I’m not a man who begs,” he takes a deep sigh, bringing his hand up and running it through his dark hair, “but i need you, now,” he says, his voice now an almost desperate-sounding whisper.

You bite your bottom lip, heat bubbling within your stomach at his confession.

“Take me, then, Law,”

And with that, your captain doesn’t wait even a second before he takes action.

Law tightens the towel around his waist for good measure, not wanting to reveal himself to you just yet. He groans softly to himself before bending down slightly to sweep you off your feet, his left arm went underneath your knees, and his right held your back, bridal style.

This was so easy for him, and it turned you on immensely. You eye his tattooed biceps unapologetically, cheeks turning pink as you watch them flex as he lifts you.

His lips meet yours again, tongues dancing together as you moan into one another’s mouths. When the kiss breaks and you open your eyes, you’re pleased to see that you’re now in what you can only assume is Law’s bedroom. You knew he had used his power to get you here, and you hum contently to yourself knowing that you didn’t have to walk through the hallway in all of your nudity.

You take a moment to take in the scene as Law carries you to his bed. You had never been in here, but it was just as you had imagined. So clean it was almost sterile, books arranged perfectly in a bookcase against the wall, a perfectly-kept nightstand, the only slightly messy piece of furniture being his desk, which was riddled with scattered papers and textbooks. You snap back to the moment as Law places you gently on his perfectly-made bed, taking no time to climb atop you, passionate lips meeting yours once more.

He goes for your perky breasts once more, squeezing one in each strong hand, causing you to gasp and reward him with a desperate moan.

“Law,” you purred, voice shaky and lust-ridden. You take a moment to run your hand down his tattooed toned chest and abdomen, fingers hooking underneath his towel, your desperate, wide eyes staring up at him, pleading, “Let me see you…”

You don't miss how a faint blush swells into his already sweaty cheeks.

“Anything for you, y/n,” he says, voice still low, gravelly and quiet.

Law takes your smaller, dainty hand in his large, strong one, removing his towel in one swift motion.

Your eyes widen and you gulp dryly when he finally exposes himself to you, his exceptionally long, thick cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. It was tan like the rest of him, with the tip flushed red and leaking precum.

Admittedly, you weren't surprised; your captain was quite literally the tall, skinny, emo-boy long-cock stereotype, but still, you felt heat growing between your legs as you tried to think of how you were going to take it all.

“Satisfied?” he grinned smugly, knowing damn well how well-endowed he was. He just wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“What do you think, captain?” you started, voice quiet and sultry as you leaned back, spreading your legs for him and exposing your slick folds, dripping with your wetness. “do i look satisfied to you?”

“Fuck…” Law cursed, moving a hand forward to trace his long, thin fingers against your slit, “all this…” he smirked, “for me…?”

You threw your head back, moaning loudly at the release of finally being touched.

“Anything for you, Law…” you echoed his statement from earlier.

Law groans to himself and smirks, looking up at you from between your legs for permission,

“May I, y/n?” he asks, gray eyes lust-blown.

“Please, Law” you begged, body trembling beneath his touch.

“Please?” he smirks at your desperate plea, “Good girl,” he praises, before dipping his head down, rewarding you with a long stripe of his tongue against your wet, pulsating slit.

“O-oh, Law-!” you moaned loudly, back arching, fingers digging into the crisp bed sheets.

Law placed his hand on your stomach to settle you as he had his way with you,

“Stay,” he commanded kindly, “let me make you feel good.”

Law continued to assault your cunt with his hot, wet tongue, dipping the fingers from his other hand, A and T, down to circle your opening as he lapped at your swollen clit. “you taste incredible, y/n.”

He pushed his digits in slowly, so as not to hurt you, distracting you a bit by the way he was suckling and swirling his tongue against your clit. With the help of your immense wetness, Law’s long fingers made their way inside your tight walls, and he curled them upwards to meet the spongeness of your sweet spot within you.

“L-Law-!” you choked out, “oh, Law, right there-!” you pleaded for him to continue his work on your clit and g-spot, your hands rushing down to rest in his hair, pulling at the dark strands, forcing his face further into your cunt.

“Don’t you worry, darling,” he purred, face still in your pussy, his voice sending vibrations into your body, “I’m not stopping until you’re shaking and cumming on my tongue.”

Your blushing cheeks deepened in color at his lewd words, “L-Law…” you whined shakily.

The man knew what he was doing, that was for damn sure. He knew where all your sweet spots resided, and you could only assume it was thanks to his extensive anatomical knowledge.

As his fingers continued to pump and curl inside your dripping cunt, his tongue never leaving your swollen numb as he suckled and lapped at it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone to his efforts. You felt the familiar feeling of an upcoming orgasm growing within your core, and Law could tell you were close, too.

“Let it out, baby,” he groaned, “I know you’re close…give me all you’ve got.”

And with that, you felt the band within your stomach snap, legs shaking as you gushed onto his fingers and tongue, moaning louder than ever before as you orgasmed for your captain.

“L-Law-! O-Oh my god, L-Law!” you cried.

As you come down from your high, Law hums happily, satisfied with himself. He removes his now-soaking digits from your hole, tongue leaving your clit as you lay beneath him, trembling and breathing shakily.

After gathering yourself and gaining your composure, you sit upright to look at the beautiful man who had just pleasured you so wonderfully.

You leaned forward, lips now by his ear,

“Your turn, law…” you purred.

Law shivered at the feeling of your hot breath against the shell of his ear.

“I'm all yours, y/n,” he replied, his cheeks tinted a light pink as a result of your boldness.

By the motion of your hand, you gestured for your captain to sit up.

Law pauses a brief moment before complying, positioning himself on his knees, cock standing upright proudly, rock-hard and leaking precum. You gulped quietly at the sheer size of him. What had you gotten yourself into? You didn't know how you'd be able to take all of him into your throat, but you were determined to do so. You began your work slowly and shyly, softly gripping his cock at the base with your delicate hands. You hear Law’s breath hitch in this throat as he stares down at you. You close your eyes and bring your mouth down to his tip, starting with small kitten licks. Even at the small action, you hear Law groan and curse under his breath.

The word comes out slow and elongated,

“Shitttt--”

You feel him twitch beneath your touch, and you know he’s desperate, but Law is kind. He wants to take it slow. As much as he wants to grab your head and force his cock down your throat, he holds back, wanting you to take only what you’re comfortable with.

Rewarding his kindness, you open your mouth and take him in, pressing on until his cock is halfway engulfed within your mouth and throat.

“A-Ahhh, y/n-!” Law groaned, tattooed hands immediately finding themselves in your hair.

You hum softly as he holds your head, hollowing your cheeks around his thick, pulsating cock, earning another moan from Law’s mouth. This one was lower, more of a groan, as if it came from the back of his throat. You place a hand on his thigh and continue to press forward, all the way until your nose is pressed against his pelvis. You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the intense feeling of Law’s large cock being engulfed entirely by your throat, but you wanted to do everything in your power to please him.

“O-Oh my god, y/n,” he groaned louder, “S-Such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”

Hollowing your cheeks again, you began to bob your head, your tongue sliding against the underside of his veiny cock as you blew him. Hands still holding your head, Law began to buck his hips, his cock meeting the back of your throat with each thrust, making you gag slightly. At this, Law pulls back a bit, looking down at you, concerned. You look up at him with your big eyes and give him a nod of reassurance, your face says it all, “I’m okay, keep going.”

You take him down your throat again, feeling satisfied with yourself as you hear another moan escape his lips. As you continue to bob your head and drool around his cock, you feel Law begin to shake, his moans rising in pitch and intensity.

“Y/n,” he began, voice low and shaky, “I-I’m close-” he stumbled on his words.

His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut tightly as he thrust into your mouth and gripped your hair tighter between his fingers.

It was hot and messy, drool falling from your mouth and coating Law’s pelvis and balls, lewd, wet sucking noises coming from your mouth as he face-fucked you.

In an instant, he pulled out from your throat, and you instinctively stuck out your wet, pink tongue to meet his seed. Head still thrown back, tattooed chest rising and falling aggressively, Law gave his pulsing cock a few quick pumps before he released onto your mouth. Thick, hot, white ropes of cum shot out from his cock and decorated your tongue and face.

You pulled your tongue back into your mouth and swallowed all of what he had given you.

Your face was bright red and glistening with your sweat and Law’s seed, and you were panting heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath.

Law’s breath shuddered as he, too, tried to catch it.

The two of you wouldn’t have much time to recover, though.

Law stood up, shakily, to retrieve some tissues from his nightstand and clean your face.

He did so gently and silently, just as you imagined he would.

Once he had finished cleaning you up, you glanced up at him, face still red and hot.

“Law…” you began, voice ridden with lust, “I need you inside me, please…”

“Say no more, y/n.” he smirked down at you.

Suddenly, Law leaned down, and your lips met again, in a rough, passionate kiss. Your tongues swirled together with his as he began to gently lay you down in front of him.

The kiss broke again, and your eyes widened as you noticed that Law’s cock was already erect again. You gulped shyly, what had you signed yourself up for?

“Are you ready for me, y/n?” Law questioned genuinely.

“I’m ready for you, Law…” you replied.

Law smirked at you before he spread your legs, positioning his cock at your entrance.

And then, he did something unexpected. Trafalgar Law reached for your hand.

You smiled contently and took it, lacing your fingers with his inked ones.

He grabbed his cock at the base, and began pressing his blunt tip to your wet hole, making you squeak. You were desperate for him, so fucking desperate. You just wanted him to stuff you full. Noticing the look of desperation on your face, Law continued to press on, his cock sinking further into you.

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n….shit-! You’re squeezing me so good.”

Feeling the stretch, you instinctively went to grasp at his muscular back with your free hand, throwing your head back and whining loudly.

“F-Fuck,” you cursed, “Y-You’re so big, C-Captain…” you whimpered.

Law groaned as he felt more of you squeeze around his needy cock, taking the opportunity to distract you from the pain by smashing his lips into yours.

You squealed into his mouth as he continued to press his large cock into you, gasping and whimpering as he finally bottomed out inside you

You were a mess beneath him, shaking and whining, eyes still begging for more.

“Y-You can start moving,” you croaked.

“As you wish, y/n,” Law smirked.

Pulling his hips back, Law began to slowly thrust into you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and stars danced beneath your lids as you felt him stuff you so fully, his blunt tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

“L-Law-!” you cried, nails digging into his back as he picked up his pace.

Law humps into your cunt deliciously, relishing in the sound of your sweet moans and cries in his ear. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, as you blushed intensely at the lewd sound.

Even though you could feel his cock in your stomach, you could tell Law was holding back. You wanted to see everything he had to give you.

“Law,” you began shyly, making him slow and eventually stall his movements.

“Yes, y/n?” he inquired, his cock still engulfed within your cunt.

You spoke again, voice trembling, “I don't want you to be gentle.”

At this, you saw Law’s eyes grow dark, his face cold.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes, Law, please, please fuck me rough, like your life depends on it, give me everything you’ve got,” you begged, voice tinted with desperation. “Show me you know how to use that big cock of yours.”

As those words fell from your mouth, you saw something within Law change, as if a switch flipped, a flame ignited. This was the moment your captain’s calm, collected demeanor would crack and break. You gazed up at him and watched as the corners of his lips tugged into a tight smile, his voice remained cold, but you could just make out the faintest hint of arousal and smugness as he spoke,

“Careful what you ask for, y/n.”

The man you once knew as your captain; quiet, reserved, unbothered Law, had retreated, and you watched as a new side of him emerged.

In an instant, he had pulled out of you, and swiveled around in the bed so that he was sitting on the edge of it. He grabbed you and flipped you over his knee, his palm suddenly meeting the fat of your ass with a loud smack.

“A-Ah!” you cried at the sting, looking back, your eyes meeting the red mark his large hand had left on your ass cheek. His other hand finds its way up and into your hair, yanking it back to make you look at him, another slap meeting your flesh.

“Fuck!” you cried, digging your nails into his thigh.

“Good girl,” he praised, smirking down at you, eyes lidded. “Get on your hands and knees for me, y/n,” your captain commanded.

You complied instantly, heat pooling in your core as a result of his actions, and how easily you obeyed him.

You did as you were told, maneuvering yourself onto your hands and knees, your wet, dripping cunt on full display for him. You felt the mattress sink in a bit as he settled himself behind you, the tip of his cock meeting your hole again.

But this time, he didn't go slow. Law plunged his massive cock into you with no warning, immediately bottoming out inside you, making you scream his name.

“L-Law!” you cried, fingers digging into the sheets.

He gave you no time to adjust, immediately beginning to snap his hips against you, pounding his cock into your cunt.

“Goddamn, you’re tight, y/n,” Law groaned through gritted teeth.

“All for y-you, Captain…” you whined, earning a satisfied moan from him.

“Damn right,” he grunted, still pounding into you.

You relished in the feeling of him stuffing you full, crying out each time his thick tip met and battered your cervix. Law’s fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, and you knew they would leave bruises in their wake.

“Are you okay?” Law groans, checking in on you.

Your heart warms at his compassion.

You can tell he isn’t asking just to ask, this man genuinely cares about your well-being, even as he plunges his cock deep into your pussy, his blunt tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“M-Mhm,” you nod, telling him all he needed to know.

Law kept up his animalistic pace, and you didn’t think he could go any harder, but boy, were you wrong.

Grounding his knees harder into the mattress, Law began to fuck you harder, one hand still on your hip, the other making its way up to grip the back of your neck.

“O-Oh my god, nngghh, Law!” you screamed, really screamed, tears streaming down your face as the man behind you continued to abuse your tight walls.

Law was quick to shush you, forcing his fingers, E and A, into your mouth to muffle your cries.

“Hush, baby, take it.”

You sucked and drooled on his fingers like your life depended on it, moaning around them as their owner railed you from behind.

His thrusts remained rough and unforgiving as he groans from behind you.

You were shaking beneath him, not even sure if you were still on Earth. Your ears were ringing and tears fell from your cheeks as your captain continued to fuck you roughly.

“Still with me, y/n?” he asked smugly, gripping your hips harder as he continued his rough pace.

“M-Mhm,” you replied meekly.

And just as you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, Law removed his hand from your hip and slipped it beneath you to rub your swollen clit.

“Sh-Shit, Law!” you cried, arms shaking and buckling beneath you, causing your chest to fall to the mattress. You could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, legs shaking, cunt pulsating around his cock.

“That’s my good girl, y/n, you’re taking this cock so well,” Law praises, groaning.

“Th-that feels s-so good, I-I’m so close, Law -!” you cried out desperately, your voice weak.

“That so?” Law replied smugly, his fingers still rubbing tight circles against your clit, still thrusting his big cock into your tight walls.

“Cum on my cock, y/n.” he commanded.

With his permission, you gave into your orgasm, letting it take you, moaning your captain's name as if it were a prayer and you were begging to be forgiven, “Law, Law, Law, L-Law--!”

You gushed around his cock, your slick coating his shaft and down his balls.

Your body gave out, you felt like putty in his hands, legs buckling beneath you, making you begin to fall into the mattress, but Law catches you and holds you up, fucking you right through your orgasm.

He is relentless, his pace only quickening as he chases his orgasm. With a few more harsh thrusts, you feel him release within you, thick, hot ropes of his cum decorating your tight, pulsating walls. He’s groaning loudly, keeping his cock deep within you as he comes down from his high.

You’re a puddle beneath him, weak and shaking.

He pulls out, leaving you empty, pulsing around nothingness. You blush hard as you feel his hot seed begin to spill from your sore cunt.

He moves next to you, his strong hand sweetly caressing your cheek as he looks down at you, “are you okay?” he inquires, voice tinted with a bit of concern.

You smile softly, eyes closed, “better than okay, captain.”

He hums happily at your response, sliding his hands beneath you to lift you up. Safe in his strong arms, you nuzzle your face into his tattooed chest. When you open your eyes again, the two of you are back in the bathroom. Law sets you down before reaching in and turning on the shower.

You found yourself staring at Law’s muscular back as the two of you waited for the water to heat up. Your head was spinning. Did that really just happen? Was this really the same man you had come to know? Cold, distant, unambiguous? The one who had just pounded you into his mattress and destroyed your insides? Couldn’t be. He was a different man in the bedroom, rough, messy, unforgiving.

Trafalgar Law was precise and controlled with many things in his life, but not in how he fucked you.

You decided to finally speak as you stepped into the shower, pleased to see that Law was joining you beneath the stream of hot water.

“Th-That was…” you began shyly, “a different side of you, captain.”

Law smirked, running his fingers through his now wet hair.

“It’s always been inside me,” he explained, “You’re just the first to discover it,” he turned to look at you, smirking.

“I see,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and getting on your tiptoes to meet his lips. He ran his wet hands down your body, humming happily.

“Do you want to be mine, y/n?” Law questions, his long fingers running through your hair.

———————————————————————————————

You fell asleep in Law’s arms that night, an arrangement that was out of routine for the both of you.

The next morning, when you awoke, Law wasn’t beside you.

Your heart sunk a little, until you looked at the time, 8am. Of course, Law was up already.

As you made your way into the dining room, you were greeted with your crewmates' cheers.

As soon as you sat down at the table, Bepo rushed towards you happily, a plate of perfectly-prepared pancakes in his paw. He placed the stack in front of you, giggling, “Can you believe it?! Captain made pancakes for us! Not that boring crap he always eats!” The polar bear grins and sits down next to you, diving in on his own plate.

You rose from your seat, making your way to the kitchen to find Law in front of the stove, cooking more pancakes.

You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, giggling into his back, “No boring oatmeal this morning, captain? What’s the occasion?”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was smirking as he spoke,

“Just thought of switching it up,” he says, “I recently learned that it’s beneficial to change up your routine once in a while.”

You smile as you feel his hand meet yours, intertwining your fingers.

“More than beneficial,” you replied, giving your captain’s hand a knowing squeeze.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

ahhh that’s it! i hope you all enjoy-!

as i said, this is my first smut, so i’m nervous but excited for you all to read it!

also, i think it is fitting that Law was my first smut post, since he’s my favorite! and my literal husband

anyway, please tell me what you think! ʚ♡︎ɞ

oh and i’d love suggestions for my next fic!

thank you-! ♡︎ ◡̈

©this work belongs to willowhaze26.

do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms.

comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

#trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law one shot #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #one piece imagine #one piece one shot #one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law fanfiction #one piece fic #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law headcanons #trafalgar law headcanon #law headcanons #one piece headcanons

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ahundredtimesover · 4 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (06) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 14.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: We're slowly heading somewhere! Still slow but it's something hehe thank you again for appreciating this piece! 🥰 Also... JK in that Vogue outfit with a corsage. YEP.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The silence that engulfs Jungkook’s apartment once you enter the following Monday is quite unnerving, as it brings back memories of the last time this happened and a half-naked woman came out of the bedroom and questioned who you were. The gym is empty. There’s no other sound of someone typing away or talking on the phone like the few times that you found Jungkook working before you even arrived.

You take a deep breath and decide to just face whoever comes out of these doors until one of them opens and out comes the man himself - alone - dressed in an oversized jumper and sweatpants. He looks like he just got out of bed with his semi-mussed hair - with a little sprout bouncing along as he moves - and groggy eyes, which widen once it registers that you’re here.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” he replies, his deep and gruff voice startling you a little. “What do you have there?”

He gestures towards the paper bag you’re holding, and you remember what you decided to bring over.

“Uh, chicken noodle soup,” you mutter, somehow suddenly shy. “Just an option for this morning. I wasn’t sure if you were still feeling under the weather.”

“I think I’m just fatigued,” he says. “But uh, I can have that.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, putting it in a pot to eventually heat.

You prepare his suits for the week then prepare his breakfast, pouring yourself a small serving as well. He takes his seat and starts eating, and you glance at him to see his reaction.

“Where did you get the one from last Saturday?” He asks, his face expressionless.

“From a store nearby,” you answer. “I was heading somewhere and your building was on the way.”

“This tastes better. Where did you get this from?”

“I, uh, I made it,” you say softly, feeling a bit of pride that it’s something he complimented.

There’s prolonged silence that you’re suddenly nervous about. His eyes remain focused straight ahead while yours constantly flit towards him, partly to gauge if he’ll start talking about last week’s meeting and partly to see his reaction about your dish.

“You don’t have to send or make me food, Ms. Cho,” he finally says, wishing he’d said it with a bit more warmth.

But he’s not used to speaking that way, so it comes off as displeasure, as if he doesn’t appreciate what you’d done even if that’s exactly how he feels. He’s grateful; he just doesn’t want another reason to think that you actually care about him.

“My health is my responsibility, not yours,” he adds.

“I, uh… I suppose that’s true,” you say even more softly. “I just thought it would be nice to be given something like this when you’re sick.”

And it’s the truth. During the times you were unwell, Hoseok would remind you to rest or take your medicines; he even bought you vitamins and it’s why taking them became a habit of yours. You barely had the energy to make soup. But after that one time when you braved through an event and Yoongi noticed you feeling under the weather, he took you to a noodle house and ordered extra chicken noodle soup for you to take home. You had it all through the weekend, and though it wasn’t like your mom’s, it was still something familiar, and it was comfort that you badly needed.

You thought it was something you could extend to Jungkook. You weren’t sure if he was spending the weekend at home by himself, but in case he was, you thought that something warm would help. You were on your way to watch a local film and happened to pass by his area, the image of him sick and probably alone prompting you to just buy that dish and leave it at the reception. You suddenly craved it and made one for yourself last night, thinking it wouldn’t hurt if you brought some over for him as well. Even if he thinks it isn’t your responsibility, you think it’s still within your role to make sure that your boss - the Vice President - conducts his functions properly, and he can only do so if he’s healthy.

As you finish the small portion that you prepared for yourself, Jungkook wonders who’d taken care of you during the times you were sick. With your friends and family miles away, perhaps there wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was a boyfriend. Or maybe like what he’s come to see, you did things on your own. Maybe you think there’s no one doing that for him, too.

And you wouldn’t be wrong. He was never good with company, after all, whether it was offering or keeping it. So when someone offers something as simple as a bowl of soup for when he’s feeling unwell, it cuts through the walls he’s built around himself because he’s become used to no one even knocking to check how he’s doing.

But in an effort to remain unmoved and insistent on keeping his distance, he sets boundaries once more.

“You don’t need to do this for me, Mr. Cho,” he states. “I appreciate it, but I’d prefer if you don’t do it again.”

He sees your face fall from his periphery, and much as he wants to take it back, he knows he has to hold back. It was hard enough to resist feeling cared for.

He’d really spent the weekend by himself, turning down his friends’ invitation to go to a resort and Hoseok’s offer of dinner at this newly opened steak house. Jungkook was buried under the covers when the phone rang informing him that you’d left something for him, unwilling to move and get off the bed because he was too tired but also too hungry, so when he opened the bag and it registered to him what you've given him, he felt less alone and less sad for himself. The image of your shy expression flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help the smile he let out, giving himself only a minute to bask in your kindness before reminding himself that it means nothing more than making sure he’s well. It’s harder for you if he’s sick, he convinced himself. Still, he’d rather not think about it; he’d rather not torture himself by his brain wanting you to mean one thing, but his heart hoping it was another.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice a little too firm for his liking. “I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It—” didn’t, he wants to say. It made him feel nice and comfortable and that’s what he can’t let himself feel around you.

“I treat this as part of my job,” you reason, a half lie because you really did want to extend some kindness even if he may not exactly be deserving of it. “But it may not be so for you. I’ll take note of this moving forward.”

Jungkook concedes. Any objection will counter what he’s been saying, even if he didn’t mean all of it. And like how you always do, you get over it quickly, flashing him a measured smile and taking out your iPad to go through this week’s schedule.

You both head to the car after and discuss his previous meetings. You’re detailed and engaged, taking down notes and asking him questions like the professional that you are. He tells you about his meeting with artist Lee Jaemin and that he agreed with 80% of the pieces that you and Yoongi chose. You talk about the Board members’ reactions during his presentation and he shares what they talked to him about during the dinner.

“Socializing with them was tiring,” he admits. “I couldn’t keep up with all the things that they wanted to talk about.”

You give him an assuring smile. “You looked like you did well,” you assure him. “They seemed engaged, although as Mr. Jung would say, part of that is for show, to get on your good side. It would be smarter to think that not all of it was genuine.”

“True. But I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Saito. He’s an architect, too, and we had a really good talk about incorporating traditional elements in a modern design.”

“Yes, he’s always been kind,” you say. “But it’s good that you’re able to forge these relationships. Perhaps it’s also new to them, seeing you in that light. I suppose they don’t know you all that much. It’s a nice change being able to engage with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, well, it’s just during the company events that you attended, it wasn’t exactly hard to spot you,” you chuckle, seemingly comfortable now.

“And why is that so?”

He turns to you, legitimately curious because he’d never really noticed you before, even if he knew you as Hoseok’s assistant. If he’s being honest, you didn’t even look familiar when you first met, and that just reinforces the fact that Jungkook didn’t really care for the other people around him, especially during those events he was required to fly to Seoul to attend. If he’d paid a bit more attention, maybe he wouldn’t have been caught off guard when he did finally meet you. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as rude, too.

“If I may, sir, it was quite easy to spot one of the Jeon sons always at the bar,” you chuckle. “Your father and cousin would often look for you and you were always in the same spot.”

You’d noticed him, Jungkook thinks to himself. He wonders what you’d thought about him then, but given how he hated those events, it probably wouldn’t be something good. He just always couldn’t wait to leave.

“Ah. As you can tell, I’m not one who likes to socialize,” he says. “I don’t really know what to talk to people about. And I’m not that good with names nor faces. It was easier to keep to myself.”

“That’s understandable. But you already know that’ll have to change,” you remind him. “Half of what Mr. Jung did was attend events.”

“I know. He’s been preparing me for that. I need your help in that aspect, too, from remembering names to getting my energy up. Those are oddly what I’m most nervous about, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I hope I can make things easy for you.”

You’ll never know the irony of your words, and perhaps the push and pull it brings about - as you try to make things easy for him, the harder it actually becomes on his end.

You find yourself back at the tailor shop the next Thursday for Jungkook’s suit fitting, and if it wasn’t for Taehyung telling you that your gowns are ready, you would have totally forgotten that you had some dresses made as well.

While Jungkook tries on his outfits, you’re instructed to choose several dress shirts that he’d be adding to his wardrobe, given the various functions he’d be attending from now on. You didn’t anticipate for this to be part of your role, but you don’t mind, as it’s a welcome change to what you normally do, which is attend meetings, bury yourself in paperwork, and everything else in between. At least you’ll be visiting the venue for the Arts Center event tomorrow, but today, you focus on the task at hand, which turns out to be harder than expected.

The options are endless. It doesn’t help that you have to envision Jungkook in each piece of clothing and that he looks good in every one of them, and that you have to imagine him at all. You see him everyday - and have seen him in as little as in just his gym shorts - and you don’t really want to have him in your mind as well. But how he presents himself is a big part of his new role, as Hoseok had told you. As the Vice President, Jungkook needs to look sophisticated and respectable, someone worthy to represent the company and the Jeon family name.

You go for different hues of grays and blacks and other colors, too. There’s an olive green that looks really nice, and a few maroons and pinks that would add variety to his everyday look. You’re focused on making your choices, but your focus shifts to Jungkook when he comes out of the dressing room donned in a patterned black suit. The fit is perfect and even with the distance between you two, you could spot impeccable details that make the outfit look elegant yet fresh.

“This is for the gala,” Taehyung states. “What do you think, Ms. Cho?”

“It looks nice” is all you manage to say.

It’s the only word you feel is neutral enough to describe him. Even if you could accept that Jungkook is handsome, you don’t exactly want to say so in front of him.

“I was going for something better than nice, but that should be fine, I guess. What do you think, Kook?”

“I like it. But don’t you think the sleeves are a bit too fit on my arms?” Jungkook asks his friend.

“Well, it’s not like you were flexing them when I was measuring you,” Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes. “But I can adjust it, since I doubt you’d take a pause on lifting weights anyway. It’s probably the material though so don’t worry, I’ll fix this. Okay, on to the next one.”

You return to your task at hand, choosing some patterned tops that are appropriate for less formal events, and you inform Taehyung who then says that he’ll have those made in Jungkook’s measurements. With your task finished, Taehyung instructs you to head downstairs so you could fit your gowns as well, and you follow in anticipation because these might just be the first and only custom-made pieces of clothing you’ll ever have the luxury of wearing.

A female staff assists you, making sure that the length and neckline are to your liking. The first outfit, the one for the Arts Center event, is an old rose sleeveless lace midi dress that looks even more gorgeous when worn. The gown for the Appointment Dinner is a black short-sleeved pleated piece that is both functional and fashionable, but it’s the last one - the one for the gala - that has your jaw dropping to the ground.

“Ms. Cho,” you hear Taehyung call out from outside the fitting room. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, unable to stop looking at yourself in the mirror and turning around to try to see every angle of the stunning dress. “It’s just, uh…”

“It’s what?” He asks worriedly. “Can you come outside so I can see?”

You take a breath before pulling the heavy curtains open and find Taehyung and Jungkook standing not far away.

“It’s too pretty, Mr. Kim,” you say shyly. “I don’t think I can wear this.”

“Well, you will. Because it’s custom-made,” he points out. “And it looks gorgeous on you. It fits perfectly. I assume the others do as well?”

“Yes,” you smile, feeling like a fairytale princess who gets to wear a gown that her fairy godmother had made for her. “They’re just…”

“Exactly what you need as this guy’s right hand woman,” Taehyung finishes for you.

He gestures towards his best friend who seems expressionless and probably unimpressed by how you look. It’s not like you mind but it at least wouldn’t be humiliating if he just stood there looking uninterested.

“What do you think, Kook?”

“It looks nice,” Jungkook shrugs, repeating the words you’d used on him earlier. Shifting his gaze from you to Taehyung, he excuses himself. “I’ll head to the car, I have calls to make.”

“I’ll finish up here,” you say, turning around to go back to the fitting room.

Jungkook exits the shop and finally breathes, feeling like he’d suffocated inside because of how you looked. He’d wondered how the dresses turned out, curious about the designs because Taehyung didn’t want to show him; it’s a surprise, the man had said. And now Jungkook knows why.

Stunning would be an inadequate word to use. The burgundy color of the gown made it look sophisticated on you, even more with the off-shoulder that showed off some of your features that he’d rather not think about. The flow was elegant, and he half wishes that he hadn’t thought of having these made only so he could avoid the moment earlier when he felt his throat dry up because of how beautiful you looked.

He’s gonna have to get used to being rendered speechless every time, he thinks, but it’s not like it doesn’t happen everyday, anyway. Every morning that he finds you standing in his kitchen, donning the pencil skirt and blouse ensemble that assistants are recommended to wear, his mind short circuits. There’s something especially fresh and electrifying about you at the start of the day, and he always has to pull himself together and act normal around you without giving himself away.

He can’t nurture the attraction, after all, even if he’s reminded of it during times like earlier, even more so when he gazes at you and you hold it, letting the tension build unconsciously. Because that’s what happened, as you pulled open the curtains and looked up. He wishes you were too shy to notice how long he had his eyes on you. But it’s why he had to get away. You’re too much for him sometimes, and he doesn’t know if you have any idea of how you affect him.

Jungkook stares at his phone, half hoping that an actual call would come to distract him. But nothing does, and he leans his head back and groans in frustration. What is it about you that makes him absolutely weak in the knees and stupid in the head?

Back inside, you give Taehyung your address so he can have the gowns delivered to your apartment for your convenience.

“Thank you again, Mr. Kim,” you say. “I wish I could do your creations justice.”

“You will. It’s in the confidence, so exude it, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you giggle. “Especially since those pieces will pretty much blow the Office of the VP’s budget.”

“Is that what Kook said? That these are budgeted under him?” Taehyung arches an eyebrow.

“Uh, yes, sort of. I just assumed because he’d pointed out that they were being made as part of my functions,” you explain.

“Hmm. I know his office has a lot of money but these gowns would definitely blow up any contingency fund you have,” he chuckles. “So no, your assumption is wrong. Kook’s paying for all this.”

“What?” You exclaim. “But that’s— why?”

“Well, you do need these as part of your job, and he wanted to save you the inconvenience of spending for them. I mean, he did buy Lucas some suits, too. But between you and me, I think this is his way of apologizing to you, just in a very gallant way.”

“You mean unnecessary and undeserving,” you correct, still in shock that Jungkook is paying for all those, even if yes, he can easily afford them.

“Nope, not at all. I know he’s been difficult to deal with and I’d like to apologize on his behalf, seeing that he’s terrible at doing it. I know it doesn’t make things better but at least it’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore.”

“Well, that does help a bit,” you smile, following him as he heads out the door. “But thank you again, Mr. Kim.”

“Off with the formalities,” he laughs. “It’s Taehyung. And you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do to somehow make up for my ass of a best friend.”

“He’s not too bad. Not anymore, at least,” you counter. “I’ll go ahead. Have a good day, Taehyung!”

Jungkook manages to look down on his phone in time for you not to see him watch you talk freely and casually with his friend. That’s another person close to him who gets to experience how you’re like - joyful and warm, perhaps a little shy sometimes, but comfortable just the same. It’s something he’ll only see from afar; your positions necessitate some distance, but perhaps that’s better than not having you around at all.

You enter the car and you’re back to being quiet and reserved, your eyes focused on the road while Jungkook, in an effort not to keep glancing at you, turns to his leather notebook and doodles some designs that pop in his head. It’s his way of calming himself down most days, helping him focus given that his mind is often filled with too many thoughts that he can’t express. He hopes that in drawing them, he can somehow rid himself of the feelings he’s locked in and it helps, as he’s somehow able to get over the tension from earlier and the tiniest bit of jealousy over your casual engagement with Taehyung.

You both return to the office, with Jungkook proceeding to his room to prepare for a lunch meeting and you follow, taking some signed documents that he’d left earlier.

“Mr. Jeon,” you say as he settles in his seat. “Thank you for the dresses. I… I’ve never had anything as beautiful as those and undeserving as I may feel, I’m just really appreciative.”

Jungkook isn’t prepared for the softness in your voice as you say the words, and like the consistent jerk that he is, he brushes it off.

“Taehyung made them; you should thank him. I just paid for them,” he utters, his tone stern and uncaring.

His eyes flit to you when there’s silence on your end, and he wishes they hadn’t. There’s resignation in yours, as if he’s shattering another moment you’re creating where you’re just being sincere and he’s being dismissive. It’s his default, he reasons, not just towards you but towards everyone. Normally he wouldn’t mind how the other would take it, but with you right now, he wishes he was so much better than this.

You hold his gaze, as if trying to tell him things you don’t want to express. He’s not one to apologize, but he also won’t accept gratitude. You’re starting to think that what Jungkook can’t handle is any form of human connection. It’s something you struggle with at times, but you’re at least open to it, willing to accept kindness and appreciating people for what they have to offer. Jungkook deflects; he turns away. It seemed like it took so much for him to even verbalize needing your help and perhaps he was desperate; his reputation was on the line after all. But even then, he doesn’t give nor does he accept, and you wonder what made him that way.

“Is there anything else?” He finally asks after a long beat of silence.

“Nothing more,” you shake your head and excuse yourself.

Returning to your desk, you look at Jungkook from your seat. There’s a hint of emptiness in his eyes that you often mistake for apathy. Perhaps there’s more and perhaps the help he really needs isn’t just about dealing with his father or remembering names or navigating relationships required for his role. Maybe it’s about opening himself up a little, or smiling when the situation calls for it, or not questioning other people’s kindness towards him. Maybe it’s about realizing he’s more than just this heir to the company or the playboy he’s known as. Maybe it’s about seeing that he’s capable of sincerity and gentleness as well.

You sigh to yourself. It’s probably a long shot but you only feel strongly about it because you know what it’s like to turn people away. If it hadn’t been for your family and friends, you probably would’ve continued to do so. Jungkook may be your boss but he’s human, too, and he may just be waiting around to see who’d be patient enough to extend a hand and let him know that he’s not alone, that someone understands, and maybe that someone is you.

The days fly by too quickly for your liking and you haven't been able to take a breath. You had a meeting with the organizing committee of the Appointment Dinner most of last Friday and you spent your weekend coordinating with the designers for the Arts Center launch. It’s been last minute preparations these past two days and before you know it, Wednesday has come. You stayed late the night before and were gladly checked in at the hotel with the other assistants, so you at least got a bit of sleep even if your body felt like it continued to stay awake.

But tonight is important, as the newly appointed executives will be formally introduced to the corporation’s directors, shareholders, and subsidiary companies. You’ve been organizing this with the planning committee since the appointments were announced, and given that coordinating events like this is one of your primary tasks, you’re exhausted and excited and nervous all at once. But it’s the second time you’re doing this and you’ve learned so much since you did this for Hoseok. There’s more knowledge, sure, but there’s also more confidence. You also know enough to eat before the guests arrive and at 3PM, it’s exactly what you do, knowing you won’t have much else until the event ends.

The other employees compliment your dress, and you’re too shy to say who had designed it but you eventually do, knowing it’s good for Taehyung’s brand. But you don’t say much else, choosing instead to focus on the guest list as you’re tasked to do, and you go around the events hall to make sure that the VIP name cards are placed on their proper tables. You’re able to sneak bites of the canapes as you go, allowing yourself a flute of champagne for that kick you need to socialize with the guests tonight.

You engage with the early birds when they arrive, guiding them to their seats and putting on your most welcoming smile. You get Mr. Ri’s message that they’re nearby, so you head outside and stand by the entrance and wait for them, knowing Jungkook would want to know how things are going.

He exits the car in a black suit and white top, a statement brooch adorning his classic coat. The strands of his long hair are tucked behind his ears and he looks even more polished than usual, a look that catches attention; it definitely catches yours.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Some of your invited guests have arrived.”

“Have you spoken to them?” He asks, as you walk slightly behind him towards the venue.

“I have, and they’re looking forward to seeing you.”

He nods, and just as he’s about to enter the hall, he stops and turns towards you.

“You’re busy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Somewhat, sir,” you reply. “We all have our tasks but I’m free to move around. Do you need help with anything?”

“Just, uh, names.”

“I’ll always be nearby,” you assure him.

Your smile gives him the comfort he needs. He’s been without it since yesterday afternoon, given that you had to prepare as part of the organizing committee. And while the support team and Yoongi have been encouraging, only you really know why every event such as this is important for him.

Jungkook has already made gains with some of the Board members last week; this time, it’s about engaging everyone else - the staff, the partners, and key personalities in the industry. Hoseok and Ji-woo have done this before but it’s Jungkook’s first time. He’s no longer just an executive in the Southeast Asian office; he’s now the Vice President of the entire company. There’s a lot of pressure that comes from carrying the Jeon family name, and even more being the only one of the two sons who’s taking on such an important role.

The event hall is grand. It’s pretty special, too. It’s one of the projects he worked on as part of the design department years ago before he left for Singapore, and the thought makes him stop. Perhaps this is the reason why his father chose this venue for tonight; if anything, it’s a reminder of what Jungkook is capable of. He takes a breath and looks around to soak everything in before approaching his invited guests - partners and consultants he worked with in his previous role.

But that ends quickly, as many more people approach him for a greeting.

Jungkook is a bit overwhelmed. He tries to hold eye contact when he speaks to them but he can only do so for so long. Some faces are familiar but the names escape him, and he starts to regret all the times that he flew here for events like this and never engaged with the other guests. If he had, perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard.

There are those who introduce themselves, while there are those who don’t, perhaps assuming that he’d know who they are. Just like the couple who’s speaking to him excitedly, and he wants to return the energy by at least calling them by their names. His mind is blank, and just as he’s about to give up, he looks up and sees you, your eyes catching his as if you’re just waiting for his cry for help.

There’s pleading in his eyes and you get it immediately, as you walk towards his direction then greet the pair next to him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” you say. “It’s lovely to see both of you again. I saw in the news that you’re launching a new project with our partners from Dubai. That’s quite exciting.”

“Ah, Ms. Cho,” they greet you back. “Yes, all thanks to Mr. Jung who helped us with that partnership. We’re excited for it as well.”

“Oh, I’m sure. We’re looking forward to it,” you smile.

“Thank you. I’m pleased to know that you remain as the Vice President’s assistant,” Mrs. Yamada says. “Perhaps we can invite Mr. Jeon to one of our hotels in Japan? Or even in London?”

You turn to Jungkook who looks less tense than he did a few minutes ago.

“Ah, yes, that would be great, Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” he responds. “I’m sure I’ll find time during one of my trips and I’ll definitely give you a call. Perhaps we can talk about projects we can work on as well.”

The excitement in the couple’s faces is a joy to see and for their sake, you really do wish that Jungkook makes good on his promise. You ask him about it after they leave, and he says that the names were familiar. Ji-woo’s talked about working with them before and that they’re long-time friends of the family, so he should maintain that relationship.

A call of his name prompts both of you to look to the side, and he turns to you with a questioning face.

“Mr. Adam’s an investor. Behind him is Professor Zhang from SNU. They’re friends of your father,” you tell him. Seeing Bitna signal for you, you say, “I have to check on something, Mr. Jeon. I’ll be back.”

You turn around to head to one of the tables, but you look back to watch Jungkook greet those who approach him, his smile becoming more natural as the moments pass by. You briefly meet with some staff about the musical guest and some other last minute adjustments. You greet Taehyung and Seokjin who show up to support their best friend, with both men complimenting how you look.

Knowing that Jungkook will be needing you again after, you call over Do-hyun and Yohan and delegate some of your monitoring tasks to them, and then stand by one of the tables as you watch the socialization take place as more guests come in.

Your eyes find Jungkook again as he’s engaged in a conversation with some Board members and other partners, and you smile a little at how he’s able to maintain eye contact and look like he’s actually interested, especially after he looks up and gives you a look as if to say that he’s trying his best.

“Why are you watching him like some child who’s trying to make friends at the playground?” Chin-sun asks, the teasing tone of her voice making you chuckle. “He’s a grown man, you know? He can hold his own.”

“I know,” you reply, turning to her. “But it’s one of the many things that’s new about his role. And probably one of the more important ones. I just wanna let him know that he’s doing a good job.”

“Well, there’s no wife or girlfriend to do that. I guess that makes it your responsibility then.”

You disregard her comment’s implication and point out that Hoseok does that for Jungkook, too, but he’s just as busy and perhaps just as nervous as well.

“It matters a lot to hear it. Plus, social events can be overwhelming and isolating at the same time. He’s still getting used to it,” you add.

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn to her.

“You know, I admire you for a lot of things,” she says. “Your ability to remain kind after everything is one of them. I mean, after how he treated you those first few weeks? That was tough.”

Your resigned face pushes her to continue. “Do-hyun could’ve gone on without telling me about seeing you cry and I still would’ve known. You tried to hide it but your smile always fell too fast and your eyes were just always sad. Must’ve been hard, trying to get the team on his side when you couldn’t do that for yourself.”

“I honestly don’t know how I survived that first month,” you laugh to mask the sadness from that experience. “But that’s in the past. He still has his moments but at least there are good ones now. I’m here to do my job. Being kind after everything is part of it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to keep it to yourself though,” she laments. “If we couldn’t help, we could’ve at least cheered you up.”

“I didn’t want to bring you guys into it,” you say. “The team was incredibly busy with so many things and I managed. That’s what matters.”

“Oh, ___,” she sighs. “You put so much of yourself in your job. I think that’s why the bosses trust you. But that takes so much out of you, too. Do you have anything left for yourself?”

“What’s left is right here, Chin-sun. I don’t think I know what I am outside of all this.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, I’ve worked with you for three years and I can’t say I really know you outside of this, too. And if you can’t… well, that’s something to think about.”

“And I have. It’s something I’ve asked myself, but trying to find the answer isn’t as easy as asking the question. So I just put all my energy into my work because where else would I? It at least pays the bills and lets me enjoy little luxuries every once in a while,” you reason.

“Well, I know what learning who you are outside of this job would entail, and I’m a little selfish because I need you around,” she smiles. “No one does things the way you do, and that’s also why I figured that at some point, Mr. Jeon was gonna get himself together because he can’t afford to lose you. You’re so good at this, ___. He’s lucky you didn’t quit.”

“Apparently, it takes a lot to get me to quit,” you reply.

Or I was just never brave enough to do it, you want to say. Asking the question is indeed always easier than finding the answer.

“Let’s hope you find a way to find yourself without resigning. We can’t afford to lose you, too,” she winks.

“I appreciate that, Chin-sun. Thank you.”

“Well, I think it matters that you know that you’re doing amazing. I hope he treats you as you deserve.”

He tries, you think to yourself. At least that’s what you hope.

The call of your names from a familiar voice excites you, as A-yeong approaches you and Chin-sun. You engage in your usual hushed conversations until you see Jungkook in another sea of people and you decide to approach him, the relief on his face telling you that he’s indeed been needing you.

It’s not your preferred crowd. Something you’ve learned in your years of attending these events is that you would smile and entertain them and men would think it’s an invitation to invade your personal space. A lingering touch on the elbow, a hand on your waist, standing a millimeter too close… and they disregard your uncomfortable look or attempts at stepping away.

The man you’re introduced to is new but his ways aren’t, and you scan the hall to find Bitna who turns to you in time, the look you give her signaling another person to look out for. It’s a system they developed that they’ve filled you in on, and you immediately excuse yourself and check on the food served at the back even if you know they’re still well stocked. It at least allows you a breather. You’re not even a main actor but you’re tired as hell from socializing with people.

It’s not long after when the event starts. Speeches and a performance take place while dishes are being put out, and it’s after the main course is served when Jungkook steps away from his seat.

Choosing to stand towards the back before he’s called on stage to be introduced, he scans the hall and thinks about the work that the committee put in, including you, who had to deal with him while dealing with all this. He catches sight of you speaking with the other assistants, and he already knows there’s some planning going on. But like the last time, he felt you around even if you were busy; you held his gaze during the times he felt a little overwhelmed.

“You ready?”

Yoongi’s voice is deep but calming, and Jungkook takes it as his friend’s way of encouraging him.

“Not really, but I’ll manage.”

“Good. You’ve got people on your side,” Yoongi assures him. “Like me. And especially her.”

He gestures towards the left where Jungkook sees you approaching them. Since you started working for him, he didn’t expect how easily he could find comfort in your presence. He went from wishing you were someone else, to wanting to distance himself from you, to constantly hoping you were around. Those last two could actually coexist, and they do. There’s still detachment as his means to combat the attraction - he tries not to care about you, to not get to know you, to remind himself of who you are in his life, but he still depends on you for support, for comfort, for stability. You make his life easier; you also make it feel less lonely. And every time you’re there is a moment where he feels like he could breathe, like the noise in his mind stills because he’s forced to focus on you; somehow, you captivate him that way.

“Are you ready, Mr. Jeon?”

The contrasting tenderness of your voice gives him that boost and he nods despite the lingering nervousness.

“I guess so,” he huffs. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks towards his seat up front while you stay behind with Yoongi who leads you to one of the free tables at the back. You both don’t say much to each other, focusing instead on the short speeches that Ji-woo and Hoseok give, both of them expressing their gratitude and giving previews of upcoming projects to look forward to. They’re masters at commanding a crowd, as evidenced by their engagement and loud applause at the end of it. You can already imagine Jungkook feeling even more nervous, knowing that’s not really his style, but you hope that your earlier encouragement lingers, as he walks towards the stage.

He delivers his speech flawlessly. Knowing him the way you do, you could tell he let his vulnerability shine through, even if it may not seem much to everyone else. The teaser about the Arts Center gets people excited, which he builds up on. He even slides in a few jokes that surprisingly get the audience entertained.

A small smile paints your face and from next to you, Yoongi chuckles in almost disbelief.

“Is it safe to say you’re proud of him?” He asks, as Jungkook walks down the stage and CEO Jeon takes the mic.

“You could say that,” you turn to him. “It’s silly, considering how things started. I… I didn’t think I’d be genuinely rooting for him, you know? But I am. I really want him to do well.”

“That’s good to hear, ___. I guess it means that things really are changing and he’s treating you better.”

“I think they are,” you hum. “I mean, not the best, but I also don’t know what that’s supposed to look like. I guess I’m just understanding who he is a little bit better now. And I think that makes the difference.”

“Like I said, he’s not a terrible person. He just needs… someone to be patient with him, someone to show him kindness,” Yoongi says. “I think that’s what he lost along the way. He stopped being that way to himself and so did people. They just didn’t want to upset him, but they also didn’t give or show anything more.”

“You think so?”

“Why do you think it’s so hard for him to forge even the simplest and most basic connections?” Yoongi questions. “They lack meaning for him. I think he’s forgotten what that’s like. Without sincerity or kindness, without intensity or honesty, there’s just… emptiness. Everything is fleeting for him.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” You eye him curiously.

“Because I think your kindness did something to him.”

“And that is?”

“He’s showing a bit of that to himself, too. And I guess to others as well,” Yoongi explains.

“I’m a mere assistant doing her job, Yoongi,” you shake your head. “It’s a little selfish but I do what I can to appease him and to make our relationship good enough to make this job bearable for me. If it makes him a better person, good for him and better for me. I’ll just keep doing it then.”

Your friend’s silence prompts you to turn towards him. He seems to be in deep thought, perhaps analyzing what you’d just said, which he tends to do.

There’s no lie in your statement. You’d done your part of standing up to Jungkook at the start; you at least got to show you were capable of fighting for yourself in that sense. But after that, you learned that keeping things in and letting him see how his actions affect you works as well. You show kindness because it’s natural for you, but also because it keeps the peace, it keeps both of you stable.

But you can also admit that you do all that because wanting him to know that he’s got you on his side is a way to tell yourself that you’ve got people rooting for you, too, even if you’re not the best at keeping relationships nor keeping people close. You show Jungkook what you want to experience from people; you make him feel what you want to feel. Maybe that makes you selfish. You think it also makes you human.

It’s not something you tell Yoongi, though. But maybe with the way he looks at you assuringly, you suppose he knows it, too.

The event finally ends and the guests start exiting the venue. You bid them goodbye while instructing some in-house staff about cleaning up. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon greet you on their way out, commending you for your work along with the others, and it’s their encouraging smiles that remind you of one of the reasons why you stick to this job. They’re people you don’t want to disappoint as well, and seeing them satisfied is always a good thing.

“Hey, you’re officially off the clock,” Bitna reminds you. “A couple of us are staying for closing, remember?”

“Right,” you smile.

They have a day off tomorrow because of tonight but it’s not something you can afford, given that you’ve got the Arts Center event one a week from now. It’s almost midnight and you’d have to be up in 5 hours.

“I’ll get going then. I’ll just say goodbye to— oh, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finding him just as you were about to look for him. “Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?”

“Oh, there’s nothing. Just, uh, how are you getting home?”

“A cab,” you answer.

Yoongi nudges your arm from next to you with a pout on his face. “Yah! I’ll take you home. It’s not safe to take a cab this late.”

“Yes, that’s preferable, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook says. “It’s been a long night.”

“Okay, sir,” you nod. “And it has. You also did really well. I didn’t expect the jokes but they were obviously a hit. Yoongi laughed, that’s how I know.”

“You laughed, too,” Yoongi points out.

“I’m glad it worked, then,” Jungkook says. “You can get going. You can also report to my place at 8AM to give you more time to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook heads out and rushes to the car where Mr. Ri drives him home. His mind is still buzzing from what transpired but he’s glad he managed like he said he would, like you believed he would.

And amidst the relief that he did well and the nervousness from having to do something similar again next week, there’s you, a vision that he quickly shakes off and one he finds himself seeing after every big and small thing that he does.

Your warm shower and your bed have never felt this good, only because you’re as tired as you are and you want nothing more than the weekend to come. But you’ve got a few more stressful days ahead of you and you try to push through them one at a time.

You go to Jungkook later than usual that Thursday then spend much of the entire day meeting with him and the team about next week’s event. You conduct a visit to the venue the next day and then spend the weekend answering guests’ queries and helping Chin-sun coordinate with suppliers. Monday and Tuesday have you going from one place to another and hopping from one meeting to the next, all while balancing your executive assistant and events manager responsibilities.

It’s incredibly tiring, but you also won’t deny the exhilaration you feel. There’s something so satisfying about seeing everything come together, especially as you look around the venue - an industrial commercial space that Jungkook and Yoongi jointly designed specifically for tonight. The high ceilings allow for the large panels that project the Arts Center design, with bright lights Illuminating the curated sculptures and art pieces placed around. The space elicits a feeling of newness and familiarity, of hollowness and clarity. There’s integration of traditional and modern elements and essentially, of history and emergence.

It leaves you quite breathless as you look around. It’s not even the Arts Center itself but you know that this is the emotion that Jungkook wants the guests to feel. He wants them to be in awe, to look on in excitement.

“It’s pretty great, huh?” Yoongi asks next to you. “Worth all the hard work.”

“It is. Design and logistics did amazing in putting this together,” you say, given that you’ve spent the entire day working with both teams to set this up.

“Well, Jungkook’s vision is captivating to begin with. It really makes a difference when you’re led by a creative mind. Selling the idea won’t be so hard in a place like this.”

“I really hope so. We’re banking on the artists for exposure. There are gonna be articles about it, too. The whole process is being documented and that makes the final product much more exciting,” you explain. “I… I actually feel really good being a part of this. I’m glad I didn’t quit after that first week.”

Yoongi laughs along with you, knowing now that that experience no longer bothers you the way it used to. But he’s glad about it, too, not only because he selfishly wants you around but even more, he knew that you needed this, that you needed to feel redeemed in Jungkook’s eyes and in yours. Yoongi hopes that as the project goes on, you’ll learn more about yourself and what you want, what you’re good at, what you can give, and what makes you happy.

“That makes both of us. I’m sure Jungkook thinks so, too,” Yoongi replies.

“Well, we’ll never know because he’ll probably never admit it but it’s a good thought,” you smile. “As long as we maintain this unproblematic dynamic, I’m good.”

“Speaking of which, where is he?”

“On the way,” you say. “He had a meeting to attend and he said he’ll be fixing up here. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Do-hyun approaches you about the photographer and you excuse yourself, instructing Yohan next to her to lead Jungkook to the waiting room when he arrives.

Jungkook steps into the venue and like he’d hoped, he feels the energy as he takes it all in. There’s a lot of possibility as he looks around, and that’s what he wants the guests to see. He wants the artists to envision their own pieces displayed; he wants the creatives to imagine fashion shows and photo shoots and videos that come to life; he wants people to see the potential of an Arts Center beyond just looking at art pieces.

But underneath the pride is nervousness. There will be important personalities coming today and it’s his opportunity to engage with them, to make them want to be a part of this. Talking about the details of the project would be easy; it’s connecting with them that’s a challenge. He had last week’s Appointment Dinner as a trial and like you said, he did well. It’s tonight that matters so much more to him. He supposes that what happens will set the trajectory for how the promotion of the Center will go, so making a good first impression is crucial.

Yohan approaches him and leads him towards the waiting room where his outfit, which Taehyung had pressed and sent over here, hangs on a rack. There are two magazine publications that will feature this event and both include an interview with him and some photos.

Jungkook starts dressing up, knowing he’ll be called for those not long from now. He looks at himself in the mirror and the uncertainty fills him again. It’s not the look he would’ve gone for but his best friend was adamant that an event like this calls for something new. With his trousers and fitted shirt on, Jungkook breathes in and out, and it’s at the same time when there’s a knock on the door and your call of his name suddenly makes him nervous.

You enter, stopping as you shut the door, your eyes a little wide, and look at him. You’re a sight to behold in your floral-laced dress and if he was anxious seconds ago, he’s even more now.

“I knew I should’ve stuck to the classic,” Jungkook sighs at your unmoving form.

“What—what do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, finally finding your voice.

“You’re not saying anything,” he frowns. “Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to show up in an outfit like this.”

“And why is that?” You wonder, walking closer to him now. You try to calm your racing heart because Jungkook looking this good in a checkered flared trouser and white v-neck shirt was not something you expected. “You look…”

“Pretentious?” He chuckles, shaking his head and bending towards the mirror, his angled body making you feel even hotter.

You’ve long accepted that Jungkook is a very handsome man. It’s probably why it was more frustrating despising him and, like Soomin said, also satisfying. He’s got a perfect mix of boyish and manly features with his doe eyes and chiseled jaw; the aura of confidence and nonchalance perhaps add to that as well. It also doesn’t help that he has a really good physique, something you’d seen on his first day on the job and one you’d denied affected you. You’d gotten used to it somehow. Hard as it was to suppress those thoughts every time you fixed his tie or watched him walk about his penthouse in his gym clothes, you managed. You’ve always been professional, and you’ve always reminded yourself to not let it affect you.

But tonight, it’s just hard not to, especially with the way his biceps are popping out of those short sleeves; and if the shirt were an inch tighter, you’d probably be able to trace his toned chest and abs as well. He’s cut his hair, too, slick and pushed back as if he's starring in some western rockstar film.

“Good…” you manage to say after what seemed like minutes. “The outfit looks good on you, sir. It’s new and fresh, not like the usual formal attire that screams ‘businessman who only wants profits.’ This is posh and stylish. It makes you look more approachable.”

“This is what would make me look approachable?” He asks incredulously.

“Actually, a smile would,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. “But this works, too. It fits with the theme.”

“That’s what Tae said, too,” Jungkook sighs. “He insisted that at least for these Arts Center-related events, I should dress a little more boldly and more interesting, things I definitely am not but, well, I couldn’t counter him when he said that my usual prints and styles make me look like I’m just going to a meeting or some business conference.”

“And he’s not wrong,” you point out, walking closer to him. “You don’t need anything eccentric, just something exciting. This is simple yet sophisticated.”

“Have you seen the coat?” He asks, gesturing to the rack when you say no.

“Oh. There’s a corsage,” you say, admiring the matching brown checkered piece.

“An oversized one,” he rolls his eyes.

“It looks pretty.”

“That’s what he said, too.”

“If you don’t like it, why didn’t you tell him during the fitting?”

“I did like it but it’s Tae - he’s good at convincing people that they look good. And I probably thought that, too. But he’s not yet here and he’s gonna be late so right now, all I can think about is that I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” you say, surprising him. “If what I think matters, then you’d have to take my word for it. The outfit looks good. It captures people’s attention and that’s what you need. You’re just gonna have to follow this up with similar styles but that wouldn’t be a problem. Just carry yourself with confidence. It’s what Mr. Kim would say.”

“I know. He texted that same line to me five times today.”

“He’s your best friend, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure he’s looking out for your best interest.”

“True, but then again, we were forced to become friends when we were young so who knows?”

You laugh at his words. “Is that so?”

“Our fathers are best friends so we spent a lot of time together,” Jungkook shares. “We were all so different and we got on each other’s nerves but I guess that made us closer. I… I wasn’t close to my brother so I just stuck with those who stuck around. It’s a good thing they turned out to be decent people.”

“They’re very kind, I should say.”

“Yeah. It sucks that their kindness didn’t rub off on me,” he says as he holds your gaze.

The tension rises as you look back at him. It’s hard not to fall into his eyes, and you’re thankful for the knock on the door and Yohan’s voice on the other side saying that the interviewer is ready for Jungkook now.

“Five minutes,” you call out, breaking the moment and retrieving his last piece of clothing.

You assist him in wearing his coat and just like reflex, you immediately fix the sleeves and adjust the corsage that isn’t actually that big. You look at him from head to toe and see Taehyung’s vision. There’s something captivating about Jungkook in this fit; it makes him intriguing and someone to look out for. You suppose that was the intention.

“Respectable enough?” He asks worriedly once you meet his eyes.

“Respectable enough,” you affirm, hoping your smile can give him the encouragement he needs.

You open the door and let the first set of crew in. You watch on as they interview and take snapshots while your own team from the marketing department capture what’s happening as well.

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the sofa, his eyes looking out into the distance as he absorbs the questions and thinks of his answers. He gesticulates as he responds, something you noticed him only ever do about topics that seem very important to him. He’s done it during meetings with the team and with Yoongi, and you suppose there’s that level of honesty that he shows then. His responses are thoughtful and profound, as the questions revolve around the type of art pieces to be displayed, how culture can be celebrated and respected, and what the public can look forward to once the Center is open to everyone.

The next interviewer starts off with the practical questions before moving to the technicalities of the design and structure such as the materials used, the techniques utilized in renovating such a massive complex, and how the Center itself represents art and culture. This is when Jungkook fully relaxes. You see it in his body language, in the softness of his expressions, and in the mellow tone of his voice as he discusses in terms you don’t fully understand but somehow still make you feel like you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It’s different seeing him in this way. Your team vetted these interviewers and publications and they seem sincere about their articles and so you know they aren’t there to judge; Jungkook knows they aren’t there to scrutinize him. He’s not there to impress them or even to sell the idea; he just wants to share it, to make it known, to narrate the process of this project that may still be in its very early stages but which has lived in his mind for years.

He may not always be good with words but you can tell that he finds them when the ideas are clear to him. He’s able to articulate what he sees in his mind and there’s something captivating about that. There’s a lot you can learn from him, you think, and if what you develop after having stayed this long is even just a fraction of his creativity, then you’d feel accomplished.

You can tell even more now how important this is to him, especially when he emphasizes the individual’s need and desire for connection and how he wants the Center to be a hub for that, or perhaps its creator. You wonder if he knows so much about it, or if, like you, it’s something he also constantly seeks.

You’re so focused on taking him all in that you don’t notice that you’ve been staring. Your eyes fall on his fingers, waving about as he draws imaginary pictures; they land on his lips, pink and dry as they utter words that are perhaps the most he’s said, and suddenly, his voice is the most comforting it’s ever sounded to you. You look upwards and that’s when you notice it - his eyes are on you just as yours are on him yet he continues talking, and you hold onto it for a few seconds before you feel the heat reach your cheeks. It feels like a burn and you snap out of the spell-like feeling you were caught in as you turn away now and try to catch your breath.

You hadn’t meant to stare but you were drawn to him at that moment, and as he talked about how the designs reflect the tangibility yet elusiveness of human connection, you found yourself drowning in his words and in the way he said them. He’d caught you before you could look away, and you decide that the only way to go about it is to pretend it didn’t happen.

And that’s what you do, as you remain on your spot with your eyes scanning the room, no longer focused on him.

The interview ends right as Chin-sun enters to say that some guests have arrived. You instruct her to entertain them first with Manager Lee as you wrap up in here and it’s not long after when you’re left with Jungkook once again.

“Was that good?” He asks, his gaze on you as you look elsewhere.

“It was. You seemed more relaxed,” you state, unnecessarily fixing the couch to distract yourself. “That’s a good way to start the evening, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure the guests would enjoy speaking with you tonight.”

“That’s what I hope,” he replies. “I’ll need you close to me to keep track of scheduled meetings or any invitations. I’d also like them to be familiar with you as my assistant so they know who to reach out to in case I’m not available.”

“Of course, sir,” you say, turning around to face him again, suddenly feeling nervous about the intensity of his look. “I’ll take note of all those.”

He nods then exits the room and you follow. You trail him as he starts to greet the guests one by one.

There are heads of private foundations and curators. There are creative directors from entertainment agencies and some art enthusiasts. There are artists and authors and poets, all of whom are intrigued and seemingly excited about what’s in store.

Jungkook heads to the front after being introduced by Manager Lee and takes his time to introduce the project, utilizing the panels and all of the interiors’ walls to showcase the design virtually. He presents his plans and the role of artists, creatives, creators, and consumers. It’s a half hour speech that ends, followed by a light sit-down dinner that Jungkook takes advantage of to engage with the guests.

He first greets the deputy minister of the arts and culture ministry and then Mr. Saito, who’d likewise brought some of his artist friends from Japan.

You then follow Jungkook around as instructed, taking notes on your phone in between to list all the upcoming meetings and other activities scheduled on the spot. You’ve somehow developed this skill with Hoseok but it still doesn’t get any easier. The fact that so many of them want to touch base with Jungkook after his pitch says a lot about how well he did and how much it resonated with the people he wanted to connect with.

Based on your notes, you can already tell it’s gonna be incredibly busy moving forward, and the thought suddenly makes your head hurt. But you push through, knowing there are more people to meet with, even with Chin-sun and Manager Lee entertaining half of them.

Jungkook takes the stage again to introduce some of the artists whose works will be displayed in the Arts Center, and he gives them time to talk about their pieces and what drew them into the project. The company head who’s been contracted to create the products for the souvenir shop also speaks, and as they share, you feel the excitement heighten. The opening is still a long time from now but things seem so clear and so certain, and you know that was because of Jungkook - because he demands the same level of excellence he practices from others, because he’s committed to his vision and he makes sure to see it through.

More engagement takes place, and your only breather is when Jungkook decides to talk to his father and then Hoseok but after that, you’re back to following him around and running out of calling cards for people to keep and call you in the future.

The last of the remaining guests finally leave at 10PM. You look around and the art pieces are being carefully wrapped for transport. The panels remain but Do-hyun and Yohan will be returning in the morning to pack everything up. Slowly, you start to feel the soreness creep in and the headache intensify but you shake all the pain off. There are two more days left for the week and you just have to power through them to survive.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Chin-sun asks as she readies to leave.

“I live on the other side of the city from you. From all of you,” you remind them. It’s really the only reason why you don’t hitch a ride with them, especially considering that they have families and pets they go home to. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“What about Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, surprising you because you thought he’d been on the phone. “Can’t he drive you?”

“He left an hour ago, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “He has that early morning flight to Jeju tomorrow.”

“Mr. Ri can drive you home after he drops me off,” Jungkook says. “It’s too late in the night and it might be hard for you to get a cab.”

“Okay, sir. Thank you,” you mumble, waving everybody goodbye as you follow him towards the car.

You get inside and find him sitting in the backseat, his coat removed and his head rolled back. You can tell all the socializing drained his energy again, and you’d hate to remind him that there’s a Property Expo next week that his father assigned him to attend, as well as a Partners’ Fellowship Dinner where he has to deliver another speech. You decide to do so in the morning instead and let the soft sounds of the radio soothe your mind.

“I think tonight was a success,” he mutters, prompting you to turn towards him. “Everyone I spoke to seemed excited.”

“They were,” you affirm. “They wouldn’t be scheduling meetings with you if they weren’t.”

“That’s true,” he hums. “That’s one major event down and several more to go.”

“I hope the team was able to show you how well we work together, Mr. Jeon. And that like me, they’re all on your side.”

Jungkook lets your words settle. He agrees. The team was like a well-oiled machine. Each member knew their roles and performed their tasks excellently. And there was you, of course, handling every one of his instructions and requests with grace. You looked really beautiful doing it, too, and he doesn’t know if he wants to thank or curse Taehyung for designing another dress that makes you stand out from the crowd because that’s what happened tonight - everywhere Jungkook looked, it seemed like all he could see was you.

He shakes away the thought, knowing that constantly acknowledging his attraction towards you would just make things harder for him the way that denying it would, and while he doesn’t have a solution for that either, he supposes that not acknowledging it at all would be the best option.

So he focuses on the team instead, and he feels comforted to know that they worked hard because they knew how much tonight mattered to him, as Do-hyun expressed earlier.

“I’m glad they are,” he finally replies. “I… I still don’t think I’m their favorite person but as long as they don’t despise me anymore, then I’m satisfied with that.”

“They don’t,” you counter, although even you’d know that’s a half-lie.

“They do. Or did, at least,” he laughs dryly. “It’s easy to stay unnoticed outside of the team’s office, you know?”

The tinge of sadness in his eyes confirms what you’re thinking - he’s heard some of the team conversations about him. And while you’d argue that they’re not vile or anything close to that, you also know that talking about him not smiling or not expressing his gratitude are things you shouldn’t be saying behind his back. Even if they’re true.

“I”m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon. We–”

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal,” he interjects. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t given you reasons to feel that way. You all did go from Hoseok to me and that’s quite the downgrade in terms of camaraderie and stuff.”

“We still didn’t have the right to say those things. And no, I’m not agreeing that you’re a downgrade,” you clarify. “Like you said, you and your cousin are very different.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m not surprised, is all I’m saying. But despite all that, the team did amazing tonight. Not like I’d expect they wouldn’t because they prefer someone more joyful or expressive, but it… it was also nice to see them enjoying themselves. I hope you did, too.”

“It was a memorable experience, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “It’s something new. The previous projects and events we handled were either residential or commercial in nature and our creativity wasn’t pushed as far as the Arts Center is doing. And we all appreciate that, even if we may not show it.”

“That’s good. At least there’s still something that you’re all getting out of this.”

There’s a sadness in his voice that you’re hearing for the first time. You don’t know what about tonight that’s making him vulnerable and honest with you. Perhaps it’s all the talk about human connection that he seems to struggle with, and maybe he’s realizing now that even with the team performing as well as they are, there’s still something lacking in soul and emotion that he thinks is because of him.

Whatever it is, you hope that he doesn’t let it bring him down too much. Working closely with him, you’ve come to see more of him despite his efforts to keep those layers unpeeled and you’ve come to understand him a little more. You’ve forgiven him in the process, too. The team is still adjusting and you know it’s your job to bridge that gap. You’ll just have to figure out how.

You let the silence end the conversation, not knowing what else you can say to comfort him at this moment. But you try though, as the car stops in front of his building and you call his name right before he closes the door.

“Yeah?” He asks, looking curiously at you.

You almost forget what you’re about to say as he’s bent forward, his arm propped on the car roof, the surrounding lights highlighting the features of his face.

“You did great tonight, too. And I learned a lot from you. Thank you for guiding us, sir.”

He’s left speechless, as he holds your gaze for a moment before nodding and closing the door. Mr. Ri drives away and you look back to see Jungkook walk slowly towards the building entrance, briefly looking your way before disappearing inside.

You arrive at the office the next morning at 9AM with a splitting headache, your body dragging itself towards your chair as you try to maintain balance and get yourself together. Jungkook had messaged late last night that he was going to have a breakfast meeting with his father so you could go straight to work, and given last night’s late finish, you could come at a later time as well.

That gave you another two hours of sleep, which you were thankful for considering the terrible state you were in when you woke up. Your body felt sore and the dryness of your throat signaled that you’re about to get sick - it was just a matter of when it was going to fully kick in. It’s how your body reacts to stress, a pattern you noticed since you started working in the company. It’s usually after succeeding weeks of late nights and big events when you give in - the headaches start then the sore throat; not long after, the fever hits and you’d have to spend days just doing nothing until you’ve expelled the exhaustion away.

On rare occasions, your mother or friends come, knowing you’d be too sick to make yourself some food. But they don’t always have that luxury. They have their own lives, too, lives that they just happen to have far away from you. But it’s why it mattered that you gave Jungkook that noodle soup when he was unwell. You know what it’s like to be sick and hungry and completely helpless, and you had a feeling that just like yourself, he’d deal with it on his own. You’ll probably have to stock up on food tonight to get you through the next few days; you just hope you haven’t completely fallen apart by then.

You take your medicines and try to focus on your tasks for this morning, scheduling meetings and screening photos from last night to be used for marketing purposes. Needing some tea, you head to the pantry and briefly check in with the team before heading back. You see that Jungkook has just arrived, as he accompanied his father to one of their project sites after their meeting. He calls you over and asks if Do-hyun and Yohan have come back from fixing things at last night’s venue.

“Yes, sir, they just got here,” you reply. “Everything’s been stored properly and Chin-sun’s working on the payments already.”

“Good,” Jungkook responds. “It’s lunchtime though, so you should all grab a meal. There’s a French restaurant that just opened a block from here. I heard it’s got great reviews, so take the team there and have them order anything they want. You can just use your card to pay but it’s under the office’s budget.”

“Okay, sir. Uhm, that sounds great,” you manage to say, excitement filling you because you spent the other night watching review videos of that restaurant on YouTube and immediately told Jimin and Soomin that you’ll be eating there when they visit you the next time. “What about you though? Aren’t you joining us?”

“I… Well…”

“You don’t have any other scheduled meeting other than the one we’ll have as a team at 2:30.”

“I don’t have to go,” he answers. “You all worked hard and deserve to enjoy yourselves and I don’t think that’ll happen if I’m around. We can all debrief during the meeting but lunch is your time to get together and bond as a group.”

“You’re part of that group, too, Mr. Jeon. You are our boss,” you counter.

“Exactly.”

“But Mr. Ju–” you stop, not wanting to draw another comparison, which you said you’ll stop doing.

“I know. Hoseok would join you for lunch or dinner and the team enjoyed his presence,” Jungkook states. “I don’t think that’s the case with me. This isn’t me putting myself down but… you know that I don’t really… do things like that. I’m still learning that part of the role and I don’t want to spoil their fun.”

“You can’t really speak for the team though,” you point out.

“Well, you represent them to me. Am I wrong to assume all that?”

“No, but I think it would be a good opportunity to prove to them otherwise,” you advise.

Jungkook sighs, knowing you’ve got a point. But he insists, claiming that he’s still figuring out the team and how to relate with them.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you concede. “How about your lunch?”

“I’ll manage. You can all go ahead so you can get back on time.”

“We will. Thank you. I already know they’re going to enjoy it.”

The team is ecstatic when you tell them about lunch plans. They also only wonder about Jungkook’s presence once they’ve ordered and perhaps they’re still figuring him out, too. Much of their engagement with Jungkook is through meetings, as none of them, save for Manager Lee, feel comfortable or even free enough to just approach him. They also don’t know much about his interests or his quirks, and that puts you in the same boat as them.

You said once that you’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to him already. Maybe slowly you are, as you look around and wish that he was here to experience this, too. Somehow you just think he’d love the duck confit dish that you eventually order for yourself. Maybe you can let him know, and he can order it on his own time.

Lunch ends with everyone on a high from the delicious meal. Even you forget how terrible you’re actually feeling and let the laughs and scrumptious food compensate for the fatigue.

You get back to the office and head to Jungkook as the rest of the team prepares the conference room for the meeting. You see a half-eaten sandwich on his desk and hate to think that it’s all he had while you enjoyed a fancy lunch that he ordered you all to have. He seems to pick up your thoughts as your eyes flit from him to his food and he affirms you that he’s not that hungry, given the heavy breakfast he had this morning.

“How was lunch?” He asks.

“It was great. The food was really good. I had the duck confit that I think you’ll like and… uh, they were asking where you were.”

“They were?”

“Yeah,” you respond. “They were wondering why you didn’t join us.”

“What did you say?”

“That you were on a conference call,” you say. You didn’t like that you had to lie to them about it, but you also didn’t want to use that time to talk about Jungkook behind his back again. “Yohan said that it’s understandable; you’re always busy and he doubts you get a break while you’re here.”

“Oh. Well, he’s not wrong.”

“We had a good time though, and I’m sure they’ll tell you later but thank you. It’s nice seeing the team enjoy themselves. I wish you could see it, too.”

“Maybe one day,” he says sullenly, standing up right after to head to the meeting with you.

The room quiets down when you both arrive and Jungkook feels once more the shift in their disposition once he joins them. He can’t fault them for it knowing that’s because of him, but as time passes and the more he talks about the value of human connections - which the Arts Center aims to foster - the more he starts to think of exactly what he’s missing by keeping himself too far a distance from everyone else around him.

His father tries, he can tell. Most of their breakfast or lunch or dinner meetings aren’t actually meetings, and he supposes it’s just his old man’s way of spending time with him by disguising it as something work-related, knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t be into it if it wasn’t. His mother asks him over to their house on some weekends for lunch, her own way of reconnecting with him after years of being apart, but even with that, Jungkook just gives the bare minimum.

He doesn’t not like them; he just stopped being close to them at some point and he didn’t really care to mend it as he grew older. The women he sleeps with don’t count since he doesn’t even really talk to them, and other than Taehyung and Seokjin, and occasionally Yoongi, who keep up with his attitude, there really isn’t anyone else whom he thinks enjoys his presence enough to want to have him around.

He doesn’t know about you though, but he makes an educated guess and thinks there’s not much of him you’d miss just like anyone, and while the thought stings a bit, it’s one he tries to live with.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee greets and implores the others to do the same. “Thank you again for lunch. It was really delicious and pretty fancy. I wish I’d worn a prettier tie than the one I have right now.”

“Your tie looks fine, Manager Lee,” Jungkook replies.

“Ms. Cho said you were busy, that's why you weren’t there,” Do-hyun boldly says. “Hopefully next time you can join us. I mean, not to assume you’ll treat us again, although that would be nice, but–”

“Do-hyun just wanted to say thank you,” Chin-sun butts in. “And that we understand you have so many things going on, Mr. Jeon, so hopefully, when you have time in the future, you can join us for a meal, too.”

“That, uh, that would be fine, yes,” he mumbles, taking his seat and avoiding looking at everyone except you. “Let’s start the meeting.”

You’re there for over two hours, rehashing the entire process, given that it’s the first event out of many that the team organized. Jungkook is generous in complimenting everyone, including you, and he gives updates on the interest generated and all the artists he’ll be meeting in their respective studios as a result.

The Ministry of Culture minister likewise pledged support, promising a linkage with the international media festival organizers like Jungkook had hoped. You’ve all accomplished so much in so little time, but the rest of the timeline shows that there’s still so much ground to cover. You plan the next steps and then spend half an hour talking about the other small projects that the VP’s office is managing before Jungkook adjourns the meeting and orders you all to head home to get some rest while he stays behind to work some more.

You follow him this time, trying your best to be stable as you take the bus home. You manage to buy some beef bone soup on the way for dinner, and once that’s all finished and you take a long hot shower to hopefully get rid of the stress in your body, you plop down on your bed and fall asleep with no warning at all.

You wake up in the middle of the night, your clogged nose keeping you from breathing. With puffy eyes, you search for your eucalyptus inhaler and take your medicine before going back to bed and hoping that when you wake up, you’ll feel less terrible than you do right now.

But you don’t, as you wake up to your alarm not long after and feel even worse. Your body is sore, your head feels heavy, and it’s a struggle to even turn to your side to try to pull yourself off the bed. Knowing there’s no way you’ll manage today, you call Mr. Ri and inform him that you’re unwell and can’t make it to work.

“I can’t even type nor talk properly right now,” you tell him. “Can you–”

“I’ll tell Jungkook, don’t worry,” he assures you. “And just to remind you, you’re sick, okay? So stay in bed, don’t do chores or anything, and don’t think about work for even a second. You hear me? And update me on how you are.”

“Yes,” you cough out. “Thank you.”

You lie underneath the covers and hope to the heavens that more sleep would make you feel a bit of relief and it does, given that when your phone rings five hours later, you don’t feel like your head is splitting apart.

“Good, you’re awake,” Mr. Ri says on the other end after you greet him. “Can you open your door?”

“Okay, just give me a few minutes. I’m exceptionally slow this morning.”

Mr. Ri laughs but tells you to take your time. You put on a hoodie over your gray sweatpants and briefly wash your face before opening the door.

“Work’s got to you, huh?” He asks worriedly as he stands in front of you. “Is it bad enough to warrant a visit to the hospital? I can drive you there.”

“I’ll manage,” you mumble. “But what are you doing here, Mr. Ri? Mr. Jeon has a meeting in an hour.”

“I know. But he wanted me to give you this.”

The older man initially hands you a large paper bag but decides to just place it on your table given your weak state. He removes the containers of chicken noodle soup, rice porridge, and soybean sprout soup, boxes of soft bread, and a small jar of yuja marmalade for tea.

“What–”

“Your meals for the next few days so you don’t have to worry about preparing them,” Mr. Ri says. “Jungkook wants you to focus on resting. He wants you to take Monday off, too.”

You look at him and suddenly feel like crying. You knew that waking up, you’d be worrying about what to eat, given that you barely have ingredients to work with. You also don’t have the energy to make anything, especially something that’d help with your health. Jungkook just relieved you of that, and at a time like today, you feel what it’s like to be cared for. And though you can argue with him using his own words - your health isn’t his responsibility - you won’t pretend that it doesn’t give you comfort knowing that he’d made the effort to buy all this and have them brought to you.

You talk a little bit more before he heads out, and you lead him to the door where you look across the street where the car is parked. Your eyes may be puffy but you don’t miss the silhouette behind that backseat window.

“How is she?” Jungkook asks as Mr. Ri enters the car and slowly drives away.

“She looks like someone who’s been working hard these past months and in need of rest. She says it’s normal but this is probably the worst. These few days off will be good for her.”

“I hope so, too.”

“She’s thankful for the food, Jungkook,” the older man says. “I know she’d probably say you didn’t have to but I could tell it meant a lot to her. She doesn’t always ask for help, you know? It’s good you’re somehow letting her know that she can count on you when she needs you. If this is you making it up to her, you’re on the right path.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, although unsure what it means for him. Is it to compensate? To apologize again? To return the favor because you’d done it first? Is it to let you know that he has your back, too, the way you’ve been showing him that you have his?

He’s alerted by a message, your name on his screen somehow making his heart jump. It’s a text message and not one from the usual messaging app you both use for work purposes because, well, that’s really the only thing you talk about.

[From: EA Cho] Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.

It’s the use of his name. It’s the sincerity in your simple words.

He smiles to himself.

Whatever it means to you, he knows it means another thing to him. He doesn’t want you to feel alone. And that in the coldest nooks of his uncaring heart, he actually does care for you. For this moment, he’ll acknowledge it. For this moment, he’ll let himself feel it. He can only hope you feel it, too.

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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis.

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments.

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it.

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps.

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive.

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return.

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.”

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?”

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.”

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?”

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you.

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.”

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way.

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.”

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.”

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.”

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.”

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?”

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.”

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.”

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?”

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.”

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.”

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.”

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently.

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.”

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?”

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.”

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.”

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.”

“You’ve caught me.”

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.”

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.”

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.”

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.”

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.”

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

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earthgangs · 2 years

Text

maybe the reason i am unhappy at times is because i always seek out knowledge to explain things instead of just accepting the unknown.

#dear diary #i at times try to brace myself as much as possible for future hurt i may feel #like as though i am emotionally putting on a little safety helmet and knee braces but these things can only protect me so much #or I try to emotionally map out outcomes to prepare myself #sometimes i just have to be okay with being confident in an answer presently and not knowing if it was the right or wrong thing to do #if im wrong then well im wrong and I’ll get through it and move on #I’ve been through some of the worst pains in my life imaginable and still I am here #if I can get through that then I can get through anything

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raribella · 5 months

Text

Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank

summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end

contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.

word count: 2,7k

author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”

the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.

But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.

To his bullshit.

Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.

You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.

Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.

“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”

Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.

“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“

As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.

You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.

You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.

You were bottled up to the brim.

It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.

"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”

“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-

“Y/n, listen to me!”

You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.

“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”

it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.

You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.

“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”

At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.

“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“

“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”

You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.

“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”

Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.

“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.

“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”

JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.

“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“

You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.

“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“

As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“

“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.

“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”

As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.

“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”

And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.

“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.

“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.

“First thing in the morning.” You answered.

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feasibilities · 3 months

Text

Sight and Smell - Tom x Married!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: Tom has feelings for you and won't let anyone stop him from telling you how he feels. Warnings: Drug Use, Infidelity, Allusions to Cuckolding, Sex as Punishment, Choking, Pining, etc. Author's Note: Readers need love too! I did some research on luxury hotels in Dublin as well (because I want a late-night rendezvous with Cillian in one of them). Also, thank you @mothhball for tagging me in the prompt that spawned this insane story. I hope you enjoy it!

The sight of your beautiful smile and the smell of your redolent perfume were mainstays of Tom’s psyche. He knew your husband, Seán, since they were kids. You came along during secondary school. He knew it was wrong to lust for any woman who wasn’t Marianne, but you were different. For the first time, he felt a deep-seated jealousy toward his friend. Knocking on the front door, Tom was finally prepared to tell you how he really felt. This party would go down in history.

“Hey, Tom. Seán will be here soon. Won’t you come in?” You smiled sweetly. You noticed that he looked disheveled and restless.

“Of course.” Tom replied. While you led him to the kitchen, he admired how your black dress hugged your figure. He hated that Seán got to see the treasures that lie underneath.

“Where’s Marianne?” You inquired, going back to cleaning the champagne flutes.

“U-um, she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed back.” Tom faltered, taking quick peeks at your cleavage.

“Ah. Well, I hope she feels better soon. How have you been?” You asked.

“Fine.” Tom answered plainly

Walking toward him, you placed the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Are you feeling okay, hun?” You asked innocently.

Taking your hand away, Tom hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. You heard him lock it shut shortly after. You stood there stunned before continuing to prepare for the party.

After separating the thin white powder into lines, he gummed what was left over on his fingers. Snorting each line was like a hard reset for his body. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest. Collapsing near the bathroom sink, he trembled and cursed himself. He sat himself up in a corner and breathed deeply. The palpitations of his heart subsided.

Hearing offbeat jazz come from the living area, Tom jumped up and gathered himself. He had to get this out of his system before guests arrived. It was now or never.

“I need to talk to you.” Tom blurted out, watching you arrange hors d'oeuvres on multiple platters.

“Fucking hell, Tom. You scared me half to death.” You jumped.

“Listen, it’s very important-“ Tom started.

“Can it wait until after the party, hun?” You corrected.

“It can’t.” Tom said, growing irritated by the second.

“Fine. What is it?” You said, exasperated.

“I have loved you since I met you all those years ago. I think about you all the time. I hate that Seán got to you first.” Tom confessed, staring into your eyes.

You stayed silent and stared back at him. You felt a mix of panic and curiosity. Seán would kill Tom with his bare hands if he heard this conversation. Tom’s advances made sense—especially since you felt the same way. You loved your husband with all of your heart, but you can’t say you never thought about leaving. He was away for work way too much. When he was here, he wasn’t present emotionally. Intimacy was poorer than it had ever been. You yearned for something different—rather, something electrifying. Tom was the closest you could get.

“We can’t do it here, Tom. I can meet you in a hotel after the party. Now, take these platters into the dining room. Be careful to not let anything fall.” You ordered.

Tom’s eyes widened at your proposal. You’ve never seen him move so fast in the time that you knew him. Guests, including Seán, began to arrive. He kissed you deeply and gave you an embarrassingly hard smack on your ass. It felt like he was putting on the show of a happy couple in front of everyone. Tom was left to brood angrily as you gave him sympathetic glances throughout the party. Shortly after everyone’s departure, you got a text from Tom about your impending rendezvous.

Room 427 at The Westbury. Hope you’re still up for the challenge.

“Challenge?” You murmured as you applied your makeup at your vanity.

“Where are you headed, love?” Seàn slurred, toying with your hair. He was too drunk to notice you flipping your phone over.

“Out with friends. I’ll be back late.” You replied.

“You know, I want to spend more time with you. I miss you.” He said, kissing your shoulder and starting to untie your house robe. This was another empty promise. You politely moved his hands and went back to finishing your makeup.

“We can spend time together when I get back, Seán. I need some time to myself, ’s all.” You said. Finally getting the message, he stumbled to the bed and fell asleep.

—

“Fuck, right there…” You moaned as Tom thrusted into you at steady pace. You raked your nails down his back—marking your territory for the time being. He stared down at you with the same admiration earlier. He loved the way your breasts moved with each thrust. He loved the resplendent noises you made when he bottomed out. You clenched around him as your legs began to shake. Your eyes fluttered shut before you felt his hand grab your throat. He squeezed enough to limit your blood flow. You were lightheaded, but still conscious.

“Open your fucking eyes. This is what you wanted, right?” Tom hissed, speeding up his movements. This time was much more brutal.

“Yes.” You whimpered, feeling like you were about to break in half.

Tom kissed you harshly and watched as you fell apart. Unintelligible praises came from you as he pounded you into the plush mattress. Your walls spasmed frenetically as you came. He wanted to make sure that you thought of him every time you fucked Seán. To his own perverse wish, this was payback for not choosing the better man. Flipping you on your stomach, Tom yanked your hips backward and started taking you from behind. He put a pillow underneath you to soften the blows, but to no avail. He was reaching depths that your husband dreamed of. You weeped quietly and

“Would be fucking sick if Seán came in and saw me nailing his wife, eh?” Tom teased, panting in your ear. A cruel part of you got off on the thought of him listening in on you two. Maybe he would give you the attention you deserve. A faint “Mhmm” emitted from you in response.

“Cum inside me.” You cooed, looking back at him with heavy eyes. You bit your lip and clenched around him once more. His thrusts staggered as he came with a loud groan. You sung his praises as he came down from his high. Pulling out, he saw his seed beginning to spill out of you. He caught some with his fingers and pushed it back inside. He pumped himself mindlessly before laying next to you. His stark blue eyes studied your features. He traced his fingertips along your back. You looked back at him lovingly before drifting off to sleep.

Grabbing your lace underwear from the floor, Tom huffed them desperately. Similar to cocaine, he felt a sense of euphoria. He took in the sweet, earthy scent as he grew hard again. He didn't want to disturb you, so he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He finally got what he wanted.

#tom #the party #cillian murphy #tom x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #fanfiction #love #marriage #my writing #2017

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neuvislover · 6 days

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☆༉ — 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷. 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮.

pairing. neuvillette, wriothesly, lyney, chlide, cw: slight sexual themes, no smut, gn!reader genre: fluff, established relationship

about. genshin men having baby fever

request. Hiii, I saw your requests open, so I was wondering... Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Thoma, and Childe + baby fever, showing it as rubbing/kissing reader's belly or being clingier than usual

note. I apologize that this took so long and that I've been away for quite some time but I hope u enjoy this

𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂 — the realization hit him hard, and it hit him deep. he wanted a family, and he wanted it to be with you. the mere thought of you all swollen up with his child in your stomach elicited all sorts of emotions inside him. the vision of you rocking your baby to sleep as returned home after a long day made his heart light up. the thought of you sleeping side by side with a mini him brought a dimension of bliss. He couldn't wait to see you having his child, couldn't wait to build up a family with you.

𝓝𝓮𝓾𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮 — the thought of having a child had been lingering in his brain for days. he is trying to ignore it, pushing it aside yet every time he sways his thoughts it is just getting stronger day by day. his hands were wandering around your stomach rubbing and caressing your soft skin. taken aback by the sudden affection neuvillette showed you because he was typically not the first one who gets needy in the morning. so you fixed your position to see his face properly. cupped both of his cheeks with your palms and laid your forehead on top of his “neuvi what’s wrong?”. he didn’t answer you albeit he pulled your waist closer to him and ran his big palms on your stomach.

“just thinking, my dear”

𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓪 — he has always had a soft spot for children. whenever he sees kids playing in inazuma city he can't help but smile and feel a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. he’s always quick to help a child who’s fallen down, offer them treats, or entertain them with funny faces and stories. thoma reads books and articles about parenting, wanting to be well-prepared. knitting up adorable baby clothes, He enjoys every second of it, thinking about the day he’ll dress his own child in them. he often finds himself smiling at the thought of little everyday moments—like walking through the market with a baby in a carrier or tucking a child into bed with a bedtime story.

𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓮 — grinning as he watches your smile widen at the baby in front of you both at the store. a playful giggle fills the air, warming his heart as he imagines a future home with you and the baby. childe is already very family-oriented, often talking about his younger siblings and how much he loves them. his baby fever stems from this deep familial bond and his desire to create a family of his own. despite these thoughts, his eyes remain fixed on you as you bag the groceries. you ask if everything is okay, and he responds with a gentle smirk and a kiss on your temple

"Hmm, just perfect, sweetheart."

𝓢𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓖𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽!:

𝓓𝓲𝓵𝓾𝓬 — tho he doesn’t openly show his feelings but often watches families and children with a soft, contemplative look. He sees parents with their kids in mondstadt and feels a deep yearning for a family of his own. diluc yearns for a family of his own and starts making small gestures hinting at his baby fever, like buying cute trinkets or toys when he sees them. he prepares himself mentally and emotionally for fatherhood, practicing patience and empathy. diluc carefully discusses his dreams and hopes for a family with you and secretly plans how he would decorate a nursery in the winery.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #⋆.ೃ࿔*:･neuvilette my beloved #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin fluff #childe x reader #thoma x reader

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queenshelby · 6 months

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An Illicit Affair

Part One: My Boyfriend's Father

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

It was 15 months ago when you first met the man who, unbeknownst to you, would eventually become the center of your disastrous life and that man was not your current boyfriend Maximilian Murphy, a twenty-two-year-old Irishman from Dublin.

You had been going out with Max for about a year when you met the man who changed everything for you and, whilst Max was almost an entire year younger than you, you had both met at London's top medical school after he had transferred from Trinity College.

Max was energetic, confident and intelligent. He was popular with the girls and, although you were drawn to him because of his sense of humor and easygoing nature, it was quite obvious to you that he was much less serious about life in general than you were.

After a year of non-serious dating, Max eventually told you that he was taking you to Dublin for his father's 46th birthday and it was then when you first laid eyes on him. Cillian Murphy, your boyfriend's father.

The name "Cillian Murphy" didn't ring any bells for you at the time as you had never seen any of his films, but now, 15 months later, you knew everything that there was to know about him due to the publicity his movie Oppenheimer had received in recent weeks.

You went to see the movie too with some friends and whilst you had broken up with Max about a year earlier, you happened to recall the weekend you shared with him and his family in Dublin.

Both Cillian and his wife Danielle made you feel welcome when you arrived with their son Max late on a Friday afternoon at their large Victorian townhouse near the coast, just outside Dublin.

The house was decorated with tasteful modern furniture and a collection of modern art hung on the walls. The living room featured large windows overlooking the sea with heavy curtains blocking the view when needed.

You spent most of Saturday relaxing by the pool with Max, swimming and sunbathing before enjoying a dinner prepared by Danielle for her husband's birthday.

As you sat down at the table, Cillian seemed distracted, and it wasn't until the second glass of wine that he asked you more about yourself and your aspirations.

"So, what do you want to specialize in?" he asked and you looked down at your plate and replied softly, "I haven't decided yet. I think I might enjoy working in pediatrics."

"Working with children can be emotionally demanding," Cillian said, "but I am sure it's incredibly rewarding," he then went on to say before acknowledging that Max had told him that you were at the top of your class.

"It sounds like you have a bright future ahead of you," he told you and your heart fluttered a bit as you heard his voice, deep and resonant, filled with warmth and confidence. It was a contrast to Max's playful teasing, something about which made you feel comfortable and safe.

Danielle, Cillian's wife, chimed in with a question for you, "What got you interested in medicine in the first place?" she asked. You paused for a moment, considering how best to explain such a complex answer.

"Well, my dad was a doctor, so healthcare was a part of our household growing up," you began thoughtfully. "But the real turning point came during high school when I visited a friend who was hospitalized with leukemia. Her doctors and nurses took such great care of her, and it really opened my eyes to the impact that medicine could have on people's lives."

Cillian nodded along, seemingly genuinely interested in your response.

"That's amazing," he murmured. "You are genuinely empathetic and that's a good trait to have, especially as a doctor," he went on to say with a smile and you couldn't help but blush slightly under his intense gaze. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you, making you feel vulnerable in a way you hadn't felt before. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, you found yourself strangely drawn to him. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you want to spend more time with him despite the fact that he was twice your age.

The day after his birthday party, while you were lounging around the poolside, you couldn't help but notice Cillian looking at you intently from across the lawn. His eyes held a mysterious glint, a curiosity that seemed to grow stronger every minute.

As if sensing your presence, he approached you and started a friendly conversation. The topics ranged from movies to books, and even personal interests. It was a pleasant surprise finding out that both of you shared a love for Jazz before Max pointed out to you that Jazz music was for "old people", causing Cillian to laugh.

The sound of Cillian's laughter was soothing and comforting.

You felt butterflies in your stomach as adrenaline surged through your veins. You tried to compose yourself, focusing on the casual exchange of small talk, hoping to distract yourself from the strong attraction you felt towards your own boyfriend's father.

But no matter how hard you tried, those enchanting blue eyes kept drawing you back in. The subtle smell of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses with a mix of excitement and shame.

Luckily for you however, on Sunday morning, Max and you travelled back to London, leaving behind the memory of the lingering gaze that Cillian gave you as you boarded the plane while, in hindsight, you realized that Cillian's gaze did leave something behind - a seed planted between the lines of your otherwise innocent encounter.

In the months that followed, you found yourself thinking about Cillian more often than you expected and, unfortunately for Max, at the same time as fantasizing about his father, you became more and more annoyed by his immaturities.

And then, one evening, after another argument between you and Max over whether you should go clubbing or stay in and study, you finally snapped.

"This isn't working out anymore, Max," you told it him straight. "We need different things in life and we would be better off breaking up now rather than prolonging something that won't work long term," you told Max, sitting on the bed of his dorm room, causing his chin to drop.

"You don't mean it," he said, sounding shocked.

"Yes, I do," you said firmly as you looked away from him, knowing that he wouldn't understand why you couldn't go on like this.

"No, please, give me another chance. We can make this work," Max pleaded, moving closer to you, reaching out to touch your arm.

"No, Max, I've made up my mind," you said firmly, avoiding his pleading eyes.

You knew that it was only a matter of time before Max would come to terms with the truth, but you also knew that the process would be painful for both of you.

Max moved closer, grasping your hand gently. "Maybe we just need to communicate better," he suggested, his eyes full of hope. "I love you, you know. I am happy to try anything," he continued but you shook your head.

You pulled your hand away, fighting back tears. "I just... I can't anymore, Max," you whispered quietly. "We tried to make it work several times, but our expectations are quite different. I am taking university serious, but you are not. You have different interests and I think that you would be better of with someone else," you confessed, averting your gaze.

"But... but, what about the future? What about us?" Max stammered, desperation seeping into his tone. You remained silent, allowing the silence to hang heavily between you two. Finally, you took a deep breath.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," Max pleaded, his voice quivering. "We have been together for a year, surely we can find a way to make it work. I promise."

You shook your head sadly, unable to meet his desperate gaze.

"We are both still young and year is nothing if you are in your early twenties. I'm sorry, Max," you managed to whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I think it's best if we end things here."

He let out a choked sob, his face crumpling. "Please," he implored, clutching onto your wrist. "Don't leave me like this."

But you couldn't stand it any longer, pulling your arm free. "I need space, Max," you said sharply, rising to your feet.

"I need to focus on myself and my studies right now," you told him while, deep down inside, you knew that something was missing, something was holding you back from fully committing to your relationship.

And it wasn't long before fate intervened as, just over year after your breakup with Max, you ran into Cillian again at a jazz concert in London...

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction

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yourheart-inmyhands · 8 months

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hii silly ask anon back with another silly ask😓 (before i continue tysm for answering the last one i enjoyed it sm!!🫶🏻) how would yan!zhongli, pantalone (help me i love them) and childe react to darling going absolutely feral with rage anytime they are near😭?

like they’ll get home and be like “i’m home pookie💗” and reader will scream their head off crying and throwing stuff at them

this is so long sorry but could i be 🐚 anon?

ofc you can! the more anons the merrier :D also this is such an interesting thought because there are so many different ways for the yandere to reaction in a situation like this and it's certainly not talked about enough with the diverse types so i hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, force-feeding, mentions of being drugged, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Zhongli would be well prepared, readying his shield before getting within arms reach of you. It really does come in handy for your more unruly days and he appreciates its usefulness. While he doesn’t want to see you enter the mindbroken or emotionally numb state, he’s worried that he might not have any other choice but to push you to that, lest you calm down otherwise.

“Fret not dear, it’s merely food. If you flip it over again I’m afraid I’ll have to go back to spoon feeding you.” Zhongli enters the room with a plated meal for you, setting it down at your feet. His shield was already activated, the faint glow from Geo illuminating the room as you glowered up at him. Your spot on the floor, chained down for your safety and his, was not ideal but for now it was practical. Mixed with the low lighting of the room and its generally chilly temperature, Zhongli hoped to create a strong feeling of isolation, one that would slowly drive you insane. If need be though, he had other options for breaking you, he just preferred this one. It was the most humane after all.

Yandere!Pantalone would only tolerate it for so long. He can replace all the furniture and decorations in his home with less easily broken replicas until you calm down. He can sleep in bed at night while you slept in a cage built into the walls of the closet. He could eat his meals alone while you starved in another room, too busy fretting about it being poisoned, that all he could tolerate. But the screaming was something else.

No one in Zapolyarny Palace heard your screams and wails, and those who did were ordered not to pay mind to it. It was a wasted effort that had Pantalone often sitting with his head in his hands, trying to find some sort of solution. He had run across a few temporary ones, a sleeping agent from Dottore for night time, sound proof walls in his office for business hours. But nothing could help him outside though hours, like at dinner time. You were kept in a separate room strictly for feeding due to the mess you often made, while Pantalone sat alone at the empty kitchen table. The home in general looked devoid of life outside the small inhabitant of Pantalone. This was because it was supposed to be your home, but you were often too busy throwing a hissy-fit to enjoy it and Pantalone was getting really sick of your behavior.

Yandere!Childe would take it as a challenge, playfully wrestling you to pin you down so he could feed you during the day. You could kick and scream and punch all you want, he’s taken worse and won’t stop until he’s physically unable to move. The screaming doesn’t bother him either, he just thinks you need more time to adjust is all.

Another day, another miserable feeding session. You were currently pinned underneath Childe, the ginger having pinned you to the floor with your hands held tightly to your chest as he slowly fed you bites of a sandwich. Any attempts to spit them out would be met with a pout, he had worked hard to make it for you ya know, and any attempts to not eat would be met with a quick pinch of your nose to force you to open your mouth. The worst part was possibly how normal Childe acted about the whole thing, chatting amicably to you about his day as he shoved bits of food down your throat. One time you had kept spitting food at him and in response he covered your mouth with his hand to prevent you from continuing the childish act. You had bit down as hard as you physically could on the male's palm just for him to not flinch and continue his silly little stories like nothing had happened. Being stuck with this guy was hopeless for you.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x male reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone x male reader #yandere pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone x male reader #childe x reader #childe x male reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe x male reader #yandere genshin #yandere zhongli #yandere pantalone

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slackerlifewhere · 19 days

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In defense of Ron Molan

Since I already wrote a post about Deruth, I'm going to make one for Ron as well because I'm absolutely confused why some readers hate him too.

Fair warning once again, if you haven't read or finished the first volume of TCF, please be prepared for SPOILERS. Thanks!

So...this is going to be a long post too. Be prepared lmao

Isekai and Abandonment

Like with Deruth, the most common thing some readers hate about Ron, is how he abandoned OG Cale and didn't seem to notice a difference when Cale and Kim Rok Soo got swapped.

Like I mentioned in my post about Deruth, please put yourself in their shoes before criticizing or hating them. Imagine this.

You noticed that a friend or family of yours, someone who you know for how many years, suddenly changed. The changes aren't obvious. There are some parts of their personality that are still them and some that have changed. What would you first think?

Transmigration? Long lost twin? Clone? Possession? No. The first thing you'll probably think is they have a problem that they can't tell you or maybe they just want to change. You'll be confused but you won't think too much about it. It happened but what are you gonna do about it? Ask them? And if they don't tell you why, would you push for it? Maybe you'll continue to watch and see if you'll find something incriminating but it won't ever answer your questions unless the other person talks.

So is Ron at fault for not noticing this after serving OG Cale since he was a baby (and changed his diapers lmao)?

Yes and no.

He should've asked Cale, former KRS, more about the topic. He should've pushed because he's an assassin. It's his job to know more. But he didn't push because there is some truth to Cale's first impression of Ron.

He cares for OG Cale but it's not enough for him to leave behind his thirst for revenge and completing his goals. And in all honesty, I find it logical for him to leave OG Cale to join Choi Han in TBoaH.

He lost his whole family to Arm, with only Beacrox as his reminder of what he lost. He was accepted as a butler for the Henituse family but that doesn't mean he forgot his past as an assassin. He'll always be an assassin and he'll leave behind whatever attachments he has depending on how useful that attachment is.

He only stayed in TCF because OG Cale was replaced with Kim Rok Soo. He was intrigued but not enough to completely leave his mission. It only changed when Cale got angry when he lost his arm and helped him gain a new one. He now owes Cale a debt.

Before, he owes the Henituse family a debt because they gave him a place where he and his son can hide in. He repaid that by being their butler and possible protector from other assassins or danger (tbh I dunno if they know he's an assassin). Still, his mind is focused on any opportunity to find and kill the organization that ruined his life. So it was easy for him to leave when he first noticed the connection Choi Han has with Arm.

Saying he abandoned Cale because he doesn't care is not completely wrong but it's also not completely right. He has layers. (Like Shrek and his onion lmao)

Lemon tea and Scary butlers

Another reason why some readers don't like Ron is, funnily enough, because of the lemon tea that he keeps giving Cale. And because he scares Cale.

Lemon tea? Seriously?

Some say Cale hates it and Ron keeps giving the drink. They say it shows that he doesn't care about his master and that he disrespects him. And yet, here I am just finding this absolutely hilarious.

Personally, I don't like tea so I understand why Cale doesn't like lemon tea. But I just see this interaction with Ron as a comedic relief and them bonding in their weird way. Sure, it gets repetitive, but after looking up what benefits a person gets from drinking lemon tea and knowing all the mess Cale gets into 24/7, it's pretty tame that lemon tea is the only thing he gives to Cale. These two are so emotionally stunted but that doesn't mean Cale will stay quiet if he truly doesn't like the tea Ron keeps giving him.

He's the master and Ron is the butler. Ron and Beacrox are both loyal to him. He can order Ron to stop giving him lemon tea anytime he wants. He talked down stupid nobles and priests for worse things they did and didn't do (because of Mary). I don't believe he can't tell Ron that he's being disrespectful to Cale as his butler.

If your reason is Cale is too scared of Ron to tell him to stop, then I think you don't understand their dynamic.

Cale finds everyone, not just Ron, scary. He finds the kids scary. He finds Choi Han scary. He finds the Whale Tribe scary. They're OP and can kill him before he can blink. And yet he's very close to all of them.

Ron scares him because Ron is an assassin and is very good at his job. And honestly? A normal person would be scared of Ron. But the difference is, Cale is not normal and he can also kill anyone if he wants to (are his ancient powers and skills he gained as KRS decoration to you guys?). Him being "scared" is him being respectful of Ron's abilities. He acknowledges Ron's strength but also finds the way he smiles when he can kill someone, "scary" (understandable).

So no, the whole lemon tea thing and him being scared of Ron that he can't tell him to stop giving the stupid tea doesn't make sense as a reason for hating or disliking Ron.

Oh, and last thing.

Ron actually gave Cale a sweet tea once early in the novel. I think it was before the war and Cale was stressed with a lot of things, including maintaining the shield around the territory. So...yeah, he shows concern for Cale in his own twisted way.

Again, layers.

___

That's my opinion about the matter. In short, Ron is a human being who can be selfish and dangerous. He's a person who has emotions despite being an assassin. He has his own goals. It's not that hard to understand him.

#tcf #tcf cale #tcf novel #tcf fanfic #tcf manhwa #tcf spoilers #tcf ron #tcf cale henituse #cale henituse #lcf cale #tcf beacrox #ron molan #beacrox molan #lcf manhwa #lcf novel #lcf

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wave2tyun · 4 months

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rain and vanilla lattes | ☆

pairing: classpresident!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: highschool!au, mutual pining?? kinda??, fluff, a bit of angst, a bit suggestive (? making out)

summary: kang taehyun, smart, attractive, sweet, class president. the kind of boy that anyone would fall for. he never thought that love could tug at his heartstrings so intensely, until his eyes landed on you

warnings: none!

word count: 4.5k

a/n: because of uni i sadly have not been able to write anything new for tyun's bday, i apologise😖 however!!! i really wanted to repost "rain and vanilla lattes". this was my first ever fic so please don't judge it too harshly asdbdjdsh i personally shudder when i try to reread it but i am very emotionally attached to it + i know that it used to be a big favorite!!! :0 enjoy!!! :D<33 (also i REALLY hope those were the pics i used for it before asdbbhsd)

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

the loud sound of the school bell was more than enough to wake you up from your deep slumber. you only had to push through for one more hour and survive literature class, before you could finally head back home and rest. it’s not that you didn’t like the class, in fact, mr. kim was a lovely teacher, he knew how to explain concepts well and never overwhelmed you with work, it’s just that expressing yourself wasn’t really your forté. mr kim knew that, yet still picked you regularly to answer regardless, not sparing you the embarrassment. this time you really weren’t in the mood for his schemes, so you could only pray that he would leave you alone, just this once. he was punctual, as always, and as soon as he sat down on his chair he made an announcement:

“class, i know you’re not gonna be happy about this, but it’s not long before the end of the semester and i need you all to get started on a project for your final grade.”

groans and complaints erupted throughout the class. nobody was happy about having to start a project so early, and his next statement just made the situation even worse.

“this time, however, you’ll work in pairs. and no, you will not be able to choose your partner. i’ve already prepared the list myself.”

even more complaints could be heard. certain students tried to negociate with the teacher in an attempt to change his mind, but he wouldn’t budge.

“i’ve already made up my mind. you’re not the ones making the rules, i am.”

you let out a sigh and tapped your pencil on your leg nervously as the teacher revealed the project partners. this could either take a turn for the better, or the worse.

“y/n! your partner will be taehyun.”

‘shit-’ you thought, almost dropping your pencil. you glanced over at taehyun, who flashed you a small smile. flustered, you quickly turned your head the other way. shit. you were screwed. you could feel the glares from the other girls in your class, almost drilling holes in your head, but your mind was busy overthinking about the millions of ways that you could possibly embarrass yourself in front of taehyun. after all, kang taehyun wasn’t your ordinary high school boy. he was class president, top of his school, hot, the kind of guy that everyone was head over heels for. love didn’t seem to be a priority to taehyun. girls used all kinds of excuses to talk to him or hang out. however, he would never show any interest back, only letting these interactions happen to a certain extent. you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t attractive, but you knew that he was way out of your league, which is why you never tried to approach him. you were so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice him walking towards your desk.

“y/n, would it be okay for you as well to meet up tomorrow? i think it’s best if we get started early.”

“y-yeah, i think so too. does 2 pm at the library sound good?”

“it’s perfect. see you then y/n!”

you didn’t even realise how fast your heart was beating during your short conversation. why did you even stutter...? you genuinely wanted to slap yourself in the face. you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. 2 pm at the library tomorrow, just you and taehyun, surely you can handle that, right?

───⋆☆─────────────

the next day came by so much faster than you were expecting. it was a saturday, and yet you woke up at 7 am, unable to fall back asleep. giving up, you brushed your teeth and had breakfast...then what? there was still so much time left until your meeting with taehyun. you found yourself pacing back and forth in your room for hours on end. your room became a mess as you kept on trying outfits, struggling to find something that was casual, but not too casual, something that made you look like you’ve put in effort, but not too much effort. there were clothes piled up on the floor and on your chair and your coffee mug was still sitting on your desk. you didn’t want to be late so you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up the terrible mess you’ve made. with that fear in your mind, you decided to leave your house early. you didn’t want to make the boy wait, that wouldn’t leave such a good impression.

you pushed the heavy library door, stepping foot into the quiet room. 1:50 pm. good. looking around for a place to sit until those last 10 minutes passed, you were surprised to see taehyun at a table with a book in his hand, and another stack right in front of him. he was wearing a white button-up shirt, specs on his tall nose and brown eyes shining from the ray of sunshine peeking through the blinds. you couldn’t help but fidget your hands as you were making your way towards him. there was something about his appearance alone that just made you feel nervous.

“y/n, hi! please take a sit” he said once he saw you.

“hii, i’m sorry if you’ve been waiting for long.”

“ah, you’re actually right on time, so no need to worry. i just got here earlier to gather some research material beforehand. here, have a look through this.”

he handed you an exact copy of the book in his hand. a midsummer night’s dream. right...you could vaguely remember mr. kim explaining the project to you. you were supposed to write an essay based on a classic shakespeare play. you completely forgot about it. at the time, you were too busy stressing over your chosen project partner to pay attention to the teacher’s words.

“a midsummer night’s dream has a pretty complex plot...i thought it would be a good pick. i didn’t know how familiar you were with the play, so i brought the copies for us to read.”

you nodded in agreement. you weren’t very familiar with shakespeare, but you trusted that whatever choice taehyun made was a great one.

you both started reading in silence. taehyun seemed to be completely immersed in the story, meanwhile you were thirty pages in and felt like you didn’t absorb one single word. taehyun was already far ahead from you, he was reading with such ease that you were embarrassed by how little you could understand from the play. you were peeking at him over your book. you wanted to say something, yet you couldn’t muster up the courage to form any words. taehyun must have sensed your constant glances over his figure, he cleared his throat and broke the silence:

“is there anything i could help you with?” his tone wasn’t irritated though, but rather calm and sincere. he leaned over the table to get a look at your book and you could suddenly sense the sweet scent of his cologne, making your heartbeat raise its pace.

“i’m having trouble understanding, i guess the writing style is much more difficult than i had anticipated” you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you admitted that.

he hummed in agreement and furrowed his brows “you’re right…shakespeare isn’t an easy read, especially if it’s your first time” “say, would you prefer if we go somewhere else where we can talk more freely? i can explain it to you right here as well, but i wouldn’t want to disturb the other students”

you were taken aback by his proposal. you were expecting him to burst out laughing or make a snarky remark, even though you knew taehyun wasn’t the type of person to do that. you just weren’t used to people treating you this nicely in such situations.

“sounds good” you responded with a smile.

───⋆☆─────────────

taehyun led you to a small coffee shop near the library. the place was covered in plants from top to bottom, it had vinyl records hanging on the walls and faint jazz music playing in the background. it was the perfect place for you to continue your work. however, the wide variety of options displayed on the menu made you feel slightly overwhelmed.

“what are you having?” you asked taehyun.

“the vanilla latte here is really good, so i’m going with that.”

“i see…then i’ll have one too”

taehyun was quick to order both drinks and pay for them as well. “here. don’t worry, it’s on me.” your fingers brushed lightly as he handed you the warm drink and you tried to act non-chalantly about it, but your stutter gave away the fact that his actions did have an impact on you “t-thank you.”

settling for a table near the window, you took a few sips from the beverage. the coffee wasn’t too strong, and the vanilla syrup left a pleasant taste on your tongue. taehyun had excellent tastes indeed. he brought out a small black notebook from his backpack, which seemed to have older notes and analysis from the play. he took his time to explain the plot to you, the usage of the words and their modern equivalents. it would be a lie to say that you didn’t get distracted every once in a while, especially when his sharp jawline was revealed whenever he took sips from his own coffee. he only continued his explanations after making sure you truly understood what he was saying, and by the time he finished, you had a much clearer image of the play in your mind.

time passed without either of you realising. just as you were about to leave, you could see a few raindrops starting to fall down from the sky through the window. you hurriedly gathered your things to leave. nonetheless, once you opened the door to step outside the coffee shop, the rain was already heavily pouring.

“what do we do…the bus station isn’t that close to here” you muttered.

“we’ll have to make a run for it”

taehyun grabbed you by the shoulder and placed his jackets on top of your heads to protect you from the rain. you both arrived at the bus station out of breath and giggling.

“i would have stretched a bit if i knew we were gonna run this much” taehyun’s smile revealed his cat-like fangs, which you’ve never noticed before. ‘so cute’ you thought. “are you okay? i hope i at least managed to protect you well.”

“nothing i can’t handle” you replied, but in reality, your lungs felt like they were on fire “thank you, i really appreciate it. i just wish the bus won’t have a delay like it usually does.”

“i wouldn’t mind that actually, that would just mean that i get to spend more time with you.” he responded playfully, flashing you another one of his charming smiles, making you blush for probably the 10th time that day. “do you live far away from here?”

“hmm kinda. i don’t usually take this route but i believe it’s gonna take at least 40 minutes to get back. not that i would mind though, i enjoy longer rides.” you wrapped your arms around your body in an attempt to get a bit warmer. you spent so much time at home overthinking about what you were gonna say and do that you didn’t even bother to look at the weather. taehyun seemed to notice how much you were trembling though, so he put his jacket over your shoulders again.

“here, this should keep you warm.”

“but then you’re gonna be the one who feels cold…” you argued, almost taking the jacket off completely. taehyun put it back on you in an instant.

“no, please take it. i’ll be fine, that run got me warm enough. i’m the one who suggested coming here, so i wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you catching a cold because of me.”

the bus arrived right as you were about to open your mouth, not giving you the chance to fight back. you hopped on, taehyun following after you.

the ride was mostly quiet. it wasn’t an awkward kind of silence though. during this time you were finally taking in everything that happened today. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this good with someone. sometimes not even your friends could make you feel so at ease.

“i wish we could do this more often” you muttered.

“do what more often?” taehyun asked. you froze. you didn’t mean to say that out loud. you weren’t the type to act this bold and straight-forward.

“ah, well- i mean this, you know. us meeting together to study and stuff” you blurted out and looked down. you were trying to prepare youself for the rejection. what if he’s gonna think you’re weird? he probably prefers to meet up with someone who matches his own level of intelligence. what if- “i agree, i really enjoyed our time together today.” you looked at him with wide eyes, taken by surprise. “then…are you free tomorrow as well? same hour? for the project of course.” you rambled again. “sounds great.” he responded tenderly.

you looked out the window and notice that the area was starting to become familiar, meaning that you had to get off soon. but oh my, you just wanted to stay there and keep on talking to the gorgeous boy. he was kind enough to wait until the bus stopped at your location, before finally going back to his own house. and once you did get off, you could see him waving at you from his seat. exhausted, you collapsed on your bed, heart still fluttering at his sweet gestures.

───⋆☆─────────────

your regular meetups were something that you were looking forward to. they didn’t stop even after your project was done, instead they became your own litte thing, a safe space. taehyun would always wait for you at the exact same table with a set of books and two vanilla lattes from that same coffee shop that you’ve visited on your first meeting. you adored being around him, it didn’t even feel like you were going for school work anymore. you loved how comfortable he made you feel and how caring he was, how he never looked down on you and how his eyes gleamed whenever you told him you understood his explanations. he always looked forward to the silly doodles you would leave on his notebooks whenever he lent you one. he also loved how you were shorter than him, teasing you whenever you were unable to reach a book. you pretend to be mad at him when he makes jokes about it. in reality, you found it endearing simply because it was him doing it. shit. you were head over heels for kang taehyun, there was no point denying it anymore. the realisation hit you like a truck and you were suddenly nervous to see him today at the library again, even though you’ve been doing that for months now.

taehyun didn’t show up for the first class that day though. it was weird, especially since he’s class president. his attendance is supposed to be mostly perfect. at first, you tried to brush it off, thinking that he might have just overslept. your suspicion was proven wrong, as he didn’t show up for the rest of the day either. after pretty much dragging your feet along the hall, you anxiously opened the library door. however, taehyun wasn’t there either. ‘strange…’ you thought. it was already past 2 pm. your table was completely empty. there was no sign of the boy, nor could you see his notebooks or any vanilla lattes anywhere else. maybe he was somewhere hidden among the shelves? you frantically looked for him, yet you couldn’t see him anywhere in the library. you sat on a chair and tried to calm yourself down. maybe he was just late, after all he’s human too. you sent a message to check:

( tyun :p )

[y/n, 14:24]: hey, i’m at the library :)

[y/n, 14:36]: is everything okay? you didn’t come to classes today either :(

[y/n, 15:05]: tyun...?

you closed your phone with a sigh, nervously playing with your rings. now you were really starting to panic. what if he picked up on your feelings before you even did? have you been so oblivious towards your own actions? you wanted to cry at the thought of accidentally making him feel uncomfortable. god you were so stupid. he had all those other girls in your class chasing after him, prettier, smarter and richer than you. you couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. why would kang taehyun choose you out of everyone who had shown interest in him? he was clearly way out of your league. you hated your heart for even letting you catch feelings for the boy. you left the library with a heavy heart. your mind was overwhelmed by your own thoughts and you didn’t want anyone there to witness your mental breakdown.

───⋆☆─────────────

it was ridiculous how much the situation affected you. you contemplated staying at home the next day, after just barely getting a wink of sleep. in the end, you forced yourself to get out of bed, you already had enough absences for the semester and didn’t want to get more.

you weren’t in the mood for mr. kim’s class either, so you put your head down on your desk ready to doze off for an hour. a familiar voice snapped you out of your daze:

“sorry for being late mr kim.”

you glanced at the door and right there stood taehyun, out of breath and with messy hair. he looked just as tired as you were. you quickly looked away though, not wanting to have eye contact with him. even today your messages were still left on ‘delivered’. you could feel his gaze on you during the entire class, but you chose to ignore it.

you cursed mr. kim in your mind for making you and taehyun permanent project partners. you still had one more project left for literature class which you and taehyun already started 2 weeks ago. you didn’t want to see taehyun nor did you want to be the one to let down the project and ruin his grade. you somehow managed to successfully avoid him for the rest of the day, sometimes skipping a few classes. you didn’t go to the library like you were supposed to either.

it hurt, but your brain told you that the only way to escape your feelings was to distance yourself from the boy. all the project work would go down the drain if you didn’t finish it, therefore you chose to go to the library at night one last time, hoping that he wouldn’t be there at such an ungodly hour. the place was quiet and deserted, with only a few people seemingly stressed out being scattered around the tables. you were a bit unsure what you were supposed to be looking for, since you didn’t have taehyun around to guide you anymore. you headed towards a familiar section and scanned the shelves for something that could help you conclude your essay. but while you were busy searching, you didn’t notice that one particular boy you were avoiding searching for you. you were startled when two hands suddenly entered your vision, hanging on to the shelf right above your head, trapping you.

“there you are” he breathed out.

you turned around with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights. taehyun was right in front of you, looking at you with narrow eyes and a slight frown on his face.

“i was worried sick, i’ve been looking for you everywhere” he whispered

“i could say the same thing about yesterday” you replied trying to act coldly. your heart felt warm at the thought of him looking for you.

“yesterday….?”

“you ghosted me yesterday, you didn’t come to meet me nor did you bother to answer any of my messages.” you answered, blinking back your tears.

“i wanted to talk to you all day, but you didn’t even give me a chance to explain-” he furrowed his brows “i had an urgent meeting with the student council yesterday. mr. kim then asked me to retrieve a parcel for him and i left without realising that my phone was still in the meeting room. he took it for me and only returned it to me today after class. i wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. i know it seemed that way and i apologise. i would never do that, especially to you y/n.” he explained. you could tell that he was being sincere and you felt so bad for acting the way you did. why did you let those stupid thoughts push him away? you covered your face with your hands, you wanted to die of embarrassment. “i am so dumb tyun, i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have acted like that, i shouldn’t have been avoiding you i should have talked to you about it then-”

“hey, you’re not dumb.” he interrupted your stammer. he took your hands in his and kissed the inside of your wrist. then, he gently cupped your cheeks, his gaze softening when he noticed that you were holding back tears. “please, just don’t run away from me again.” he enveloped you in his warm embrace, and you accepted it, slowly wrapping your hands against his waist. this time, you were not going to run away.

“come on, let me help you finish this.” but just after he said that, the lights went out, covering you in complete pitch black darkness. you checked your phone. it was almost 1 am, way past the library’s closing time. you didn’t want to know what would happen if somebody were to find you there, so you both sneaked towards the exit. everything seemed to go too well. as you were passing through the hall, you could hear footsteps going down the staircase. without much thinking, taehyun quickly grabbed your hand and sprinted towards the janitor’s closet, shoving you in before the security guard could see you.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t risk him seeing us.” he whispered

once again, there was almost nothing but darkness surrounding you. you could barely make out taehyun’s face in the dim light of the closet, so close next to yours. you ended up in a similar position as earlier, taehyun trapping you between himself and the door, with his arms on each side of your head.

“we should probably stay in here for a bit more until it’s safe to go out. are you okay? you didn’t get hurt or anything, right?” you could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“i’m good, don’t worry, but…tyun, can i ask you something?” he nodded in response “why did you decide to come looking for me so late?“

“why? why do think i didn’t just go on and act like nothing happened?” you looked down and gulped, unable to answer him. he gently lifted your chin up with his hand.

“do you think i like you?” he said trying to gaze into your eyes, looking for an answer. “that’s right…”, but there was a shift in his demeanour. his usual confident façade crumbled, he chuckled weakly and left his eyes on the ground, shoulders going down. “in fact, i like you so much that i can’t even stand the thought of being away from you. during this time where i haven’t been seeing you, i felt like i was going crazy.” you blushed at the boy’s confession. “oh, well then…that means that we both feel the same way” you whispered. you almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if this wasn’t a dream. kang taehyun, the boy who managed to steal your heart so easily, did actually like you back.

“i’m really glad to hear that” taehyun chuckled lowly. the cramped space didn’t allow for much distance between the two of you. you could feel his hot breath on your neck and the familiar scent of his cologne, warm chest on top of yours making you feel dizzy. without realising it, you were holding your breath. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud sound of your rapidly beating heart.

“do i make you nervous?”

you couldn’t see him clearly, but you knew that there was a smirk sneaking its way onto his face as he said that.

you didn’t reply this time. you could barely even handle his intense gaze on you, yet alone talk. he somehow got even closer, his lips sitting just a few centimeters apart from yours.

“can i kiss you...?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to utter a single word. his hand cupped your face, thumb lightly brushing over your cheekbone. he waited for a short moment, as if to reconfirm your permission, then he finally closed the gap between your lips. his kiss was soft, yearning…his other hand grabbed your waist and you moved your hand to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. you found your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair as he kissed you passionately, biting your lip. you pulled away for a second to catch your breath, cheeks burning like they were on fire. taehyun took his glasses off with a swift movement and placed them in his chest pocket before going back to your lips, kissing you more. “we shouldn’t be doing this…” you managed to whisper between the kisses. he rested his forehead on top of yours. “unless we get caught, we’re not breaking any rules”. he started to trail down kisses on your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, not daring to go further and cross any barrier that would make you even in the slightest bit uncomfortable. “but what if we do…you’re class president and i don’t want to get you in trouble-” he pressed his lips against yours in an attempt to stop your ramble. “darling, if you continue talking, then we might actually risk getting caught.” your body was melting against his touch. you were so glad he was holding you because you were afraid your legs might actually give out from the intensity of the situation. he left a few more kisses on your swollen lips.

“as much as i’m enjoying this, we should probably make our move now. come on, let’s get out of here.” taehyun said quietly.

“only if you buy me a vanilla latte.” you replied. taehyun placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and grabbed your hand before making a run towards the exit.

“anything for you, darling.”

taglist: @huekalover3000

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun scenarios #taehyun fic #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun headcanons

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starlost97 · 4 months

Text

— melt.

summary: After seeing how heartbroken the families of the people who work for the department get when they die, you decided to not get involved with anyone. You didn't expect, however, to have that ice wall melted away by someone — Jay Halstead — in your own unit. And when Jay got hurt in one of the cases, you couldn't help but be mad at him, and it didn't take long for him to figure out the why.

keywords: fluff, personal favorite, kind of grumpy x sunshine trope, Jay Halstead is a smug bastard, gn!reader.

characters: Jay Halstead.

warnings: mention of near-death experience, swearing.

a/n: wrote this after episode 7 of the Percy Jackson series (hence the Asphodels mention) at 2AM. I was actually going to request that but I ended up wanting to write it myself! hope u like it :)

word count: 1,248.

requested?: no.

Grumpy, reserved, quiet. All words used to describe you. And they weren't really that mistaken.

There was a thick ice wall between you and the rest of the world. A wall that didn't allow you to build any deeper relationship with anyone. One that burned people with its overwhelming coldness.

A wall that you build it yourself a little over a month after entering the Chicago's Intelligence Unit. Specifically after you watched how destroyed a family felt after losing a relative who worked for the department.

You felt selfish for even thinking of getting emotionally involved with someone. What if something happened to you? To them? You would never forgive yourself. You'd be rooted in the Asphodels Meadows — trapped with your own regret for all eternity — if anything ever happened because of you.

Everything was going well with it. You weren't that happy, but you were happier than you would be if you carried all the guilt of putting a loved one in danger.

But you never could prepare yourself to the warmth of Jay Halstead.

How cheeky of you to fall in love with a sweet smile. But it was true. You felt pathetically helpless any time he laughed at your jokes and showed you his teeth.

It was bittersweet. His laugh sounded like heaven and it made your life a living hell. How could you not be selfish? How could you think of being a good person when he was so close to you?

You tried to rationalized it. Tried to think that he wasn't that good. That perfect. That it was just your love-starved brain romanticizing him to tempt you.

Which lead you to the mistake of getting to know him.

Everything got worse.

The attempt of hating his flaws turned out to realizing that his loyalty was too much for his own good. He would mindlessly die for you, without a second thought or regret. How intoxicating.

He was like a honey-flavored poison. The sweetest way to lose yourself forever.

And unfortunately, you tasted him. Not only that, but it was never enough. You couldn't get enough of him. He became everything.

So when he almost died during one of the cases because he risked himself a little too much to get information, you were mad.

"Will you tell me why you're not talking to me?" He asked you, leaning over your desk and tilting his head, letting out a sigh. "Come on, I could've died and you won't even talk to me?"

"It's exactly because of that." You murmured, annoyed, not looking at him.

"What? I didn't hear you." Jay said, getting closer.

"It's because of that!" You said, now louder. You two were alone in the office. You were finishing up some papers while Jay — who couldn't for the life of him be separated from you for more than a couple hours — made you company.

"You're not talking to me because I risked myself?" Jay asked, confused, watching as you got up from the chair and went to the break room.

"I'm not talking to you because you're irresponsible!" You answered, finally looking at him in the eyes. Your bodies facing one another.

"I did it for the case! We needed the info!" Jay argued and you groaned, massaging your temples.

"Oh, my God, you really don't understand, do you?" You brushed your hands against your face, trying to calm yourself down.

"No, I don't. You do things like that all the time, and usually is worse. But when I do it, I'm irresponsible?" He asked, frowning.

He looked at you, trying to understand what was wrong. You weren't like this. You didn't fight with people unless their actions harm the case. So what was happening?

It was when the realization hit.

You were worried.

"Detective," He called, flashing you that damned smile that you so desired to kiss. "are you mad because I could've died?"

"Wha- What? No!" You mumbled, taking a step back as he approached you.

"Oh, yeah?" He mumbles, smiling smugly at you. "Are you sure of that?" He asks, getting closer and closer.

"Y-Yes, I am! If you died, it would've been a loss for the team and all the time and money that they invested on you would go to waste and-" You gulped, feeling the cold wall against your back and watching as he trapped you, putting his arms on each side of your face. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You said, nervously pushing his chest, but not really wanting him to leave.

"Like what?"

"Like that! Staring at my lips! Stop it!"

"Or what?" He asked, smugly.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, and as the seconds went by, he got closer. His forehead was soon touching yours, and his smile only grew bigger.

"Looks just like a dream I had." He said, putting his hand on your chin. "It ended very well. "

You didn't answer right away, trying to process your thoughts. You wanted to give a good answer, something that would make him go away — even though you didn't really want that —, but a wave of curiosity hit you with the revelation that he dreamt of you.

"How so?" Your voice was almost inaudible.

"I got to do more than just kiss you." He whispered, as if telling a secret. "But I think that just being able to kiss you would already make me the luckiest man on earth."

Your gaze fell to his lips, and just the thought of kissing them got you nervous. Your heartbeat rapidly beating against your chest, and for a moment he thought that he could feel it too.

But it was actually his own.

"Please," He asked. It could be mistaken for a beg, but the smug look on his face said otherwise. "detective."

"I thought…" You were breathless. Your nervousness didn't let you speak properly, but still, for some reason, you knew exactly what to say.

"Say it."

"I thought you were a man of action," You breathed out. "detective."

He smiled.

His hands — painfully — slowly went to the nape of your neck, holding it as he pressed his lips against yours, devouring it slowly, torturing you with it.

The kiss was the epitome of breathtaking. His lips moved slow and tenderly against yours, savouring you like it was his last meal.

He could live the rest of his life devoting himself to kissing you. How could it taste so sweet?

Jay wasn't much of a religious man, and he was even farther of believing in Greek gods. But as he felt your body against his and your sweet kiss on his lips, he was sure that you must be Aphrodite's work.

Masterpiece, actually.

His hands traveled around your body, feeling your curves, trying to memorize it so he didn't feel so sad when they weren't against his fingertips — even though that he knew it would be his life's biggest torment.

And he got a taste of it when he had to part himself from your lips.

"What were you saying, baby?" He asked, with a smug smile on his face.

"Fuck you, Jay Halstead." You said before kissing him again, feeling his smile melt against your mouth as your fingers intertwined his hair.

"You wish." He mumbled against your lips, lifting you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his waist.

Jay warmth was definitely more than enough to melt the ice wall away.

#chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x gn!reader #fluff #jay halstead fluff

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ohnococo · 4 months

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Fight Night | CHAPTER 9 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

You take care of Sukuna, and he takes care of you - this time with a gift. Uraume gives you a little insight along the way.

Warnings: Phone sex, mutual masturbation

FIRST CHAPTER

LAST CHAPTER

It’s far from the first time you were left floating from all the butterflies in your stomach because of Sukuna, but it was the first time you’d done it quite so openly - with your arms wrapped around him, cuddling him like he’d always been here with you. It had taken everything in you to not ask him to spend the night, for the sake of keeping up your little game.

In the end though, you were happy with that choice. You’d already been on the verge of ending it all then and there in the heat of the moment and begging Sukuna to fuck you, but the longer he went without, the softer he seemed to get.

Emotionally, at least. As for his cock, he was left very much hard and very much soaking a wet patch through his pants right where his fat tip was nestled. It was enough to have your mouth watering, and his restraint when he finally got up to wash his hands and leave only had your pussy begging your mind to relent. Your mind won out though, when he gave you that smile that told you he knew everything you were thinking of letting him do to you, and said goodnight.

It made you feel pampered, knowing his word was his vow, knowing that he was content just to have pleased you and eased your mind in one. And eased your mind was, as you laid curled up in bed, having locked the door behind him only half an hour ago. But your core was still churning, wondering how a man that had first presented himself to you as a veritable God of hedonism could so easily switch it off just like that.

You think, and think, and think until your sleepiness is gone, coming to the conclusion that he hasn't switched it off, not really. He’s hidden it away in wait, and just as he denied himself temptation when preparing for his fights, only to release all restraint after he’s had his victory. But with this he’s holding back all of that hunger to release when you see fit.

It’s hard not to wonder how long he can wait until that dam bursts. You suspect he could hold out much, much longer than you with his mind so set on it. Then, you wonder if you really want to wait long, and decide that no, you don’t. There’s a date in mind, one you’ll keep to yourself, but in the meantime you find you need more to satisfy you than an orgasm all by your lonesome.

You roll over in bed, pulling your phone off charge and calling Sukuna, knowing he wouldn’t have been home for long and surely wasn’t asleep just yet. He answers on the second ring.

“I’m not coming over there again.”

It makes you giggle, giddy before you’ve even made your demands. “You in bed yet?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want you to do something else for me.”

“Well?” He says it like he’s annoyed, but you can taste the anticipation in his voice.

“Get your cock out.”

He laughs, loud and sweet, and you hear fabric rustling as he does just as you’ve asked. His voice is light, playful, and you swear you can hear him smiling, “What now?”

You roll onto your back, nestling your head into your pillows, “Stroke it.”

His response is a low hum, and the lack of hesitation to follow your instructions sends waves of electricity coursing through you. “Nice and slow.”

He’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks his voice is even, and his words alone wouldn’t betray what he was doing if it weren’t for a small intake of air through his teeth. “You’re certainly full of demands tonight, aren’t you?”

Something about the way his voice sounds over the phone has that familiar pull in your stomach begging you to do something about it, so you slip your hand into your panties. As if he knows, he lets out a little groan right when you start sliding a finger around your clit, and you’re matching it with a shaky little gasp.

Now his voice is affected, “Hm? Is that what this is about?” He pauses, hissing as he adds something imperceptible to his movements on his cock that shake his voice only slightly. “You want me to help you get off again?”

The rumble of his deep voice is quickly turning that answer into a yes, though your response remains in line with your original plan. “I just want you to cum tonight.”

He’s chuckling again, taking a deep breath after to steady his voice even as he continues stroking his cock for you. “How sweet.”

You lick your lips, then put the call on speaker as you lie the phone next to your head on the pillow, rolling your fingers gently over your nipple while your other hand is busy in your panties.

Sukuna doesn’t miss the change in noise, “Are you playing with your clit? Or do you have your fingers inside?”

His words make you moan again, and he groans in response as you answer his question. “J-just my clit.”

“Mmm, why don’t you give yourself something to clench around when you make yourself cum? Fuck that cunt since I can’t do it for you right now.”

There’s no restraint in the noises he was getting out of you right now, even from afar, and though you’d started this as the one calling the shots, you’re obeying without question. You pull your panties down to your ankles, spreading your legs to slide your fingers inside while you resume your tight circles on your clit, getting lost in the low sounds of him panting as he strokes himself for you.

He isn’t leaving you to get too lost in it though, “And what about me?”

Your mind draws a blank, while you only fuck your fingers into yourself faster, before you’re catching up with your thoughts. “Stroke it faster.”

“Thank you.” It’s slightly patronising, reminding you that controlling him was a game you were playing because he’d decided to let you, but that has your chest and pussy clenching in unison.

He moans and you swear he’s playing up the noises he’s making more than ever, relishing in his ability to get you so heated just from the sound of him. It’s working, and working well as this time when you moan his own noise eclipses yours and has you drawing your knees up as your orgasm nears.

“Are you close?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle that turns to a groan halfway through, “I can be. Need me to cum for you?”

That sends your head spinning and your pussy clenching. “Please, I’m close…”

His breath only gets shakier, and you can hear the wet sound of him stroking himself fast, groans and moans coming closer and closer together. You try to slow down for him, to wait until he’s there with you, but it only gets harder.

“I was saving this up for your cunt.”

You can only whine in response to that, but his next words are all the go ahead you’d wanted to let go, “but I’ll just have to cum all over myself for you instead.”

His end is so hot on the heels of his words that it’s a wonder he even got them out, short deep groans sending you to your end with him. You’re moaning loudly for him as you work yourself through your orgasm, imagining just how much of his cum was covering his beautiful body just because you’d asked that he make it happen.

It has your thighs tensing, toes curling, and when you gasp out the last of your pleasure you sink deeper into your pillow, catching your breath as he does the same on the other end of the phone.

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence for ages, both staring up at your ceilings, both breathing softly as you bask in your shared afterglow. Then, you glance at the time and sit up, grabbing your phone.

“Shit, don’t you have to get up at the crack of dawn?”

Sukuna chuckles, having not been quite so unaware of the time, “I’ll be fine. Get some sleep.”

You know you’ll sleep well, and hope he does too.

He texts you the next afternoon, updating you on how his pre fight weigh-ins had gone. They’d gone just fine, apparently, though Todo had made some threatening gestures that had done nothing as far as affecting Sukuna. You figured it was just the younger man’s brand of bravado, and Sukuna says as much when informing you he’d only laughed in Todo’s face as the cameras clicked incessantly, eating up the display.

You want to see the little showdown yourself, but don’t even have to wait as Sukuna sends you a link to an article with a video included. He comments on the flashy poses Todo had assumed, persona apparently quite marketable, though Sukuna says he’d be suited for fake wrestling with a palpable level of derision, even through text, as he waits for your reaction.

In the video, you do indeed find Todo’s little moves entertaining, but get momentarily side tracked from texting Sukuna as much when you pick out a mop of pink hair off in a corner with Todo’s coaches. You think you might see some interaction there, but as Sukuna enters and exits from the opposite side of the room they don’t seem to cross paths. Then, the subject is changed before you can dwell on it too much.

when are you off work?

There he goes, getting you giddy just with the hint of a suggestion of time spent together.

Started early today, i’m out at 4

The text you were always waiting for comes through, quick as ever.

good. come over

No isn’t even a possible answer at this point, though you do want to actually get out of your drab work attire first.

I need to stop by mine first. What are we doing?

I have something for you.

Whether he’s referring to an actual gift or something else is lost on you, but you’re excited either way.

Excited enough to make quick work of showering once you’re home, touching up your makeup and putting on something much less business-casual now that you’re off the clock. Then, just as you’re about to slip your shoes on, Sukuna calls.

“Hey.”

“My pre-fight medical got pushed forward, so I won’t be back home for a bit.”

“Oh, rain check, then? Or do you want me to come over later?”

“No,” he says it like either were silly suggestions, “Uraume is in the kitchen today anyway, they’ll let you in.”

“Oh, okay.”

You say your goodbyes, and continue on your way out the door.

Uraume takes as much getting used to as Sukuna in some ways, except you didn’t click with them right away the same way you did with him. Now, you find they’ve grown on you.

With the way they open the door - giving you a small nod, which was their version of a friendly gesture - you suspect you’ve grown on them too. Had you found yourself in a big house alone with them several months ago you would have had your hairs standing on end thanks to their chilly demeanour, but now you were happy for the company.

As you follow them to the kitchen, opting to sit with them while they work, they call over your shoulder with just the smallest hint of amusement, “I see you two have made up.”

You’d forgotten that Uraume was technically in the next room for half of your awkward dinner, and if you didn’t know them better you’d have responded with an air of defensiveness. With Uraume though, you just say it like it is. “We weren’t really mad at each other or anything.”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Uraume is facing you properly, resuming their work at a cutting board on the island in Sukuna’s spacious kitchen. You take a seat across from them at one of the several high stools, leaning onto the countertop.

“I know.” Their face is unreadable, but they speak with a discerning tone, “If Sukuna had been truly angry you wouldn’t have gotten a word about his brother out of him.”

You freeze then, caught in two minds as to whether you should push for more or just move on. You choose the latter, turning the conversation elsewhere.

“So why do you do all of this stuff for Sukuna? You’re like a PA half the time.”

Uraume shoots you a look, unamused at you questioning their duties. Then, they shrug. “He looks after the people he cares for. I return the favour in the ways that I can.”

You ponder over those words, Sukuna looks after the people he cares about…

“Can I ask you a question?”

Uraume peers up at you, knife still working quickly over the onions on their chopping board, before they turn to push it into an awaiting pot on the stovetop behind them. You think you’re getting their version of a No, until they finally respond as they push the onions around with a wooden spoon. “He did try to take care of Yuuji, but he just sent everything right back.”

“Oh…” It was jarring hearing Uraume say his name. You’d tried to push it out of your mind since you’d read it under an image of him and Todo online, rather than having heard it from Sukuna himself.

They turn and shoot you a look that broadcasts the admission was between the two of you, but you have to admit you weren’t being nosy this time.

“I wasn’t asking about that, actually.”

Uraume’s posture stiffens, and you swear you see the beginnings of a blush as they turn away quickly, turning up the heat and stirring the onions much more vigorously. “Well. Just ask your question then, I need to get back to work.”

You’re glad they’ve turned away, otherwise your smile might have made them feel even more flustered at volunteering such information. “Does Sukuna always party like he did with me? With other girls, I mean.”

Their shoulders relax, feeling a little less embarrassed now that you were there being slightly vulnerable. Their response is said in that usual curt tone, but their glance over their shoulder at you feels like a silent indication of some kind of weight to their statement. “Not for more than one night he doesn’t.”

It has you smiling wide enough that you’re on the verge of chuckling outright, but hold back just a little with Uraume there. “Thanks Uraume, I’ll leave you to it then.”

You’re only just wiggling off of the stool before Uraume stops you, having recovered slightly from their blunder. “You can stay… just don’t distract me.”

Though Uraume had grown on you, they still didn’t make for the most sparkling conversation, so the time passes slowly until Sukuna returns. That isn’t entirely to blame on Uraume though, with your impatience at the time between seeing Sukuna having grown stronger and stronger as the months went by. As smitten as you are though, you do hold back on running to greet him at the door like an excited puppy - that was simply a step too far.

He doesn’t make it easy, though, smiling wide when he makes his way into the kitchen and looks from you to Uraume, then back to you.

“Are you two conspiring against me?”

Uraume doesn’t find it amusing, offering a little scoff and returning to dividing food into glass containers. You do, though.

“I don’t think we’d have a chance, even in a 2v1.” You look up at him as he comes to stand next to where you were seated, your eyes wide and a slight pout as you add, “Unless you go easy on us?”

His brows flick upward, adding an edge to his smile, “Never.”

Uraume is unperturbed as ever by the energy shift as you two speak, pulling a tray out of the oven and speaking about their only concern, “I’ll plate up in a moment, if you want to sit down?”

Sukuna nods, though his eyes are still on you, “Of course, Uraume.”

Now you are moved to get up from your seat, wrapping your arms around Sukuna’s hips, and resting your chin on his chest, “Dinner at yours two days in a row? I’m starting to think you have a crush on me or something.”

He huffs, and when you stand on your tiptoes he leans down to give you the kiss you were so clearly requesting. You part your lips for him immediately, granting him entry to explore your mouth, hands travelling down your back to squeeze at your ass then settle on your hips before he’s pulling back to speak.

“Stating the obvious is a waste of time.”

You roll your eyes, pulling away from him, but his hands have you locked firmly in place. He dips his head low, pressing his cheek to yours, “Crush is a word for children. You’ll have to use something better than that.”

Then, he’s letting you go and heading towards his dining room, gesturing for you to follow. You do, quickly, having wound up the excited puppy anyway thanks to his words.

This time dinner is without worry, and last night’s uncomfortable brand of tension is traded for one that’s much more pleasant. Your concerns are gone, and you just enjoy your time with Sukuna, you’ve even forgotten why he’d asked you to come over in the first place until your food has been long finished and your conversation has moved to his living room.

When you’d come in you’d glimpsed at the large white gift box on the centre of his coffee table, but decided to continue the conversation until Sukuna brought it up himself.

Instead you’re settled in on his couch, as comfortable as you can get on leather that's too new to be supple enough to relax on, and your bare foot sticks uncomfortably to it as you tuck it under your knee while turning to face Sukuna. He pulls it from under you, settling it on his lap instead before resting a heavy hand on your ankle. You bring the other one up to join it on his lap and lean back onto the arm of the couch as he speaks.

“They have special seating for family and friends of fighters, you’ll be right behind the judges and able to see us clearly.” He waves a hand dismissively at his next thought, “You’ll be separated from the riffraff too.”

It’s exciting, watching a fight up close. You’re sure you wouldn’t have cared some months ago, but now you have a vested interest.

“Will Uraume be there? Or are they going to be with you?”

“Uraume will meet us afterwards. They don’t like the noise of the events.”

You are and aren’t surprised, “But they like the noise of the club?”

He shrugs, unphased by the multitudes his quiet personal chef apparently contained, “They like people watching in places like that.”

You’re reminded of the first night you’d met them both. “Yeah, I gathered that…”

“We’ll need to go in hours before you anyway,” he starts rubbing his thumb along the arch of your foot as he speaks, “you can stay here the night before, I’ll send a car for you when they’ll be letting your section in.”

You nod, happy to have the logistics out of the way for the first live fight you’ll have ever watched. You hope it won’t be the last.

“Are you nervous?”

He laughs, shaking his head, “No.”

“So are you going to finish him in the first match?”

The corners of his mouth quirk downward as he feigns deep thought at it, before responding with a wicked grin, “Second round. He seems fun.”

You wiggle your feet against his lap, as his touch goes light enough to tickle, and he takes that as an opportunity to finally address the box on the table, flicking his index finger in its direction.

“That’s for you.”

You lean over to grab it, pulling your feet off his lap to sit cross legged as you set it between the two of you. There’s no grand reveal as he explains what it is before your hands have even reached the black ribbon wrapped around it, untying it carefully before starting to slowly pull the lid off.

“Something to wear for the fight.”

You’re flattered, but your guard is up ever so slightly as you fold back the tissue paper surrounding the clothing inside. There are some ways that you don’t fully know Sukuna just yet, but you absolutely know what he’s like and expect to find it’s some tight revealing thing not entirely dissimilar to the things he seemed to love seeing you in on your nights out. It has you questioning if you’d really want to wear that around people who admire him, people who don’t know what the two of you had spent months doing with reckless abandon.

As it’s finally revealed, you run your hands over the neatly folded pale blue dress. It unfurls as you lift it by the shoulders, and you’re surprised, having to stand to hold it out and take it in fully. It’s clearly meant to be form fitting as you’d expected, but it’s long enough that it would hit just below the knees. The sleeves are long too, and the neck is high. You might even call it modest, if it weren’t clearly meant to hug your every curve.

“It suits you.” He says it with a sense of certainty. He hadn’t seen you in it, he hadn’t seen you in anything quite like it, but he will because he expected it. And if there was one thing you did, it was meet his expectations, then exceed them.

You turn it around, taking in the deep cutout on the back, and smile. There was the little hint of what you’d been expecting, accompanied by a slit in the back to allow you to move in the tight dress, though you’re aware you have no hope of wearing a bra in it - something that surely weighed heavily in his choice.

Despite the gesture, your face feels hot. It was strange, like it was too much. Technically, it wasn’t. He’d absolutely spent more than this dress was worth on drinks and drugs and rides across town alone, but this was something to hang onto, something tangible.

Then, he’s giving you that sigh, the one that tells you he’s putting a stop to something that bores him. “Stop thinking.”

You’d been good at that with him. Some of the time at least. Other times you’d been awful at it. He was right though, since you’d started getting to know each other more any time you’d second guessed his intentions you’d found them to be true to what they initially appeared to be. It’s just a dress, you tell yourself, putting it back in the box carefully.

“I’ll see if it fits.”

He smiles, satisfied, knowing it would. Knowing you knew it would too.

“Thank you.” You add, and you mean it.

He nods, but waits, watching your face. He knows there’s something waiting to be tacked onto your appreciation. With the way his raised brows beckon you to just come out with it, you’re reminded that he could always read your tells the way you’ve come to read his.

“But… you didn’t get me this because of yesterday, did you?”

His jaw tenses for a moment, then he closes his eyes as he lets out a little sigh. When he opens them he looks a little less hardened than he had just moments ago, “I’m giving it to you right now because of that, yes.”

You aren’t sure how to feel about that, but he heads you off at the pass before you can wonder at his intentions with it.

“It was bought weeks ago.”

You run your fingers across the fabric, thinking despite his attempts to ease your mind. So he tries again.

“This… thing with my brother is not something I’ll keep to myself forever. For now, this is another apology. But it was only bought because I wanted to get you something nice.”

You’re satisfied with that, breathing out the last of your apprehension as you move the box back to its original place on the coffee table, and sit on Sukuna’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with his hair.

“Thank you.” This time it’s said with nothing but gratitude, and you kiss him on the cheek, having to move quickly to avoid him turning to meet you with his lips instead.

When you pull back, he looks smug. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m gonna ask you something awkward now.”

His body tenses, mouth straightening into a line as he raises his brows in wait for your question.

“This isn’t a fling right?”

He relaxes immediately, head tilting back as he lets out a boisterous laugh. You’re unsure of yourself for a moment, as he takes a bit too long revelling in whatever amusement he got out of your question. “Is that all?”

You nod, leaning back a little as you pull your hands from his hair, but he’s grabbing you by your upper arms, wrapping them back around him. “I wouldn’t buy a $300 dress for a fling.”

“Jesus Christ, did you really spend that much?”

“Well you’d have probably started pouting about buying me something in return if it had been jewellery.”

You don’t know what to say. He was probably right, some big rock on a necklace would probably have left you lightheaded, but your head was already spinning just from knowing he’d spent a car payment on a dress you know will wind up a mess from whatever happens around town after his fight.

“Honestly when you said you had something for me I thought it was going to be lingerie.”

He dismisses the thought with a shake of his head, “I’d rather you go without entirely. Lingerie is just a waste of my time.”

It has your blood pumping faster, but you also can’t help scoffing and rolling your eyes at him. “Okay so you’re too good for cute panties, noted.”

He doesn’t take the bait, suddenly kissing you instead, wrapping his arms around your body. You melt into him, and when he pulls back to let you breathe you finally find your way back to the question you’d asked earlier, bolstered by Uraume’s earlier words as well as Sukuna’s own.

“So I’m not a crush, not a fling… what am I?”

Sukuna smiles, looking into your eyes and holding your body so close to his that he can feel every little muscle threatening to tense in anticipation of his answer.

“You’re mine.”

CHAPTER 10

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #sukuna #mma fighter!sukuna #mma!au #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #reader insert #self insert #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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