#i can’t even tell what year this is from - did he have a yellow bike in 21? I actually think this might be from 2020 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vinylhazza · 3 years

Text

For Keeps (G.D)

Summary: Jesse knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it, or rather demand it. Grayson, who carries respect and dignity like a shield of armor, walks the line of being the vanilla boyfriend he always thought she’d want, or the guy that listens to the devil on his shoulder and embellishes on the fantasies that won’t leave him alone every night. There is a first for everything, a time and place to try something -- or some one new. There is a chance to set the fire in motion. He might just take it.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: Strong sexual content, giving head, fingering, spitting, explicit language

There is a first for everything.

The first time you ride a bike, the first time you try your favorite food, the first time you win an award, the first time you hear your favorite song, the first time you talk to the person you’re meant to spend the rest of forever with, the first time you overcome your worst fear, the first time you read your favorite book, the first time you travel to a different country, the first time you have thoughts that should damn you for eternity and for some...there is even a first time for eating pussy.

It’s an embarrassment he’d never wanted anyone to discover let alone put to the test. Sure his friends had their time to talk about their extensive knowledge on female anatomy, but whenever the topic of him and Jesse doing anything outside the box he himself had placed them in, his lips were sealed. For one thing it wasn’t their business, for two he’s not entirely sure what he would say. He knew the time would come. He didn’t view their relationship like a race and he knew Jesse didn’t either. They’d been friends for too long and knew each other too well for him to base their relationship off of sex.

Grayson keeps his eyes glued to his hands holding Jesse’s hips tight -- unsure of what to do now that he’s got her beneath him and wanting him to have his way with her. He knows what he wants, but doubts that he has the courage to pursue it within him. He’d watch her with careful eyes as she peeled off each article of clothing before pulling him close by his belt loop and on to the bed to kiss her rough busy day away. A picnic was nice, but his complete and undivided attention was better. Even if his eyes trailing up and down every part of her body made her nervous.

He’d done plenty of things with his ex before Jesse, but none of those things had involved his lips and tongue anywhere beneath the waist. Not anything like he’s inevitably about to do.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Jesse had snickered minutes ago, a sly smirk lacing up her ruby red lips from so much kissing -- moment’s before he’d gotten them both all hot and bothered. He couldn’t help it when he was with her, his self control falters and he’s drunk off her touch once again, swimming in a pool of despair he can’t control. All he can think about is her. Wanting her. Needing her. Touching every single inch of her velvety skin. Wanting to do things to her. Wanting her to do things to him. Things he would blush at in the future.

Jesse was a woman with desires he’d only dreamed of women having. She was shy at times but the devil danced in her bright eyes. Grayson knew she wanted things she’d never had the guts to say out loud and things she only wanted from him alone. It all made him a fierce kind of nervous, but gave him an electrified thrill. A challenge for him to explore the workings of her body and all the ways he can make her more satisfied than she’s ever been. He didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon - and if he wanted to do her right, he had to go outside of his comfort zone for her.

Knowing Jesse was more experienced did things to him that he couldn’t begin to hide -- but more than anything it made him jealous of every set of hands that had ever touched her skin before his. It made him reckless and competitive, focused and haughty. He was better than them, he could be better than them.

He could rapture her into a whirlwind of pleasure that would ruin her image of every man except him, wanting no one's mouth but his, daydream of no one’s lips but his own, beg for no one else’s touch, want no one else’s hands but the ones holding her now. It wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about his pleasure for once, it was truly all about her.

Pulling him back into the flames, he’s burning up under her intense stare, waiting for him to do something, do anything. Anything but watch her long enough to find something less than stellar, less than grand, less than exceptional. With her fears unfolding she pulls him down for a kiss of her own, a soft feather of a thing he can feel all the way to his toes. She’d always been good at that, giving him more to miss when she’s away. The way she hugs him close is one of those things.

Grayson fell hard into love—which wasn’t particularly unusual for the hopeless romantic he was, but he always knew Jesse was set apart from the seasonal heartthrobs. He was truly bewitched by her creativity, wanderlust, unapologetic confidence, patience, and beauty.

An enchantress she was, beautiful beyond anything he could ever deserve. Drop dead gorgeous with the personality to match, there wasn’t a head that didn’t turn when she walked into a room, not a man that didn’t fumble over their words at any opportunity to talk to her, not a woman who didn’t want to be her friend. Sure her beauty was undeniable, but her benevolent heart beat it all.

He may never know why Jesse had leaned in to kiss him seven months ago save for three days in a hidden corner in Café Verona -- a quaint treasure he’d always hold dear to his heart. Fairy lights criss-crossed along the ceiling, soft Jazz waltzing with the beat of his heart, emerald green leather bench pressing into his thighs. But he’s glad she did. He’s glad she leaned in to kiss him when he’d been building up the nerve for weeks. So afraid to go there but more afraid of not knowing what would happen if he didn’t. He’s glad she took his chin in between her fingers to hold him still enough to feel her lips press to his securely, a warmth swarming in his chest where the heart shaped hole once was.

If he flipped through the pages of his memory, he would remember a statue-like stillness about him before he sunk into her touch, caging her head in his large careful hands. Feeling the gasp she tried to hide, the smell of grapefruit shampoo and the way her flushed cheeks felt under his stroking thumbs. He would see himself fall into her, around her and through her, off the edge of the rocky cliff and into the dark blissful deep of nothing but her.

He’d be eternally grateful she looked at him with utmost sincerity and whispered with a raw kind of intensity that he’d “driven her mad you see” -- and he’d heard it then, the brittleness of her voice because fear rattles her to the core, and she had been scared out of her mind. A crack that tracked through her careful confession and to the root of him. Jesse was scared of what he meant, what he was in terms of her heart, what he could be if she continued to kiss him the way she was.

In that quiet moment he remembered what made her so deeply rooted in his heart: the laugh that rattled him, the soft smell of peaches and vanilla, the way she never drives without sunglasses because her mom who passed away much too early did the same, the dance she does when she finally eats the first bite of food after damn near breaking the world in half in hanger, the way she punches the roof of her car after making it through a yellow light because her best friend in high school did the same, the way she always turns her spoon upside down when eating ice cream, and the way she always has answers for everything no matter what topic, even the way she laughs entirely too hard at Family Feud.

For that reason alone he waited for the physical parts to come when they may. It was new and exciting sure, and he’d always loved her heart of course, but her body was uncharted territory. He was patient, yes. A gentleman guarding some assumed virtue, even if he knew better than to think she was anything but a seductress. Patient enough to tell her no when she’s had one too many drinks and not enough discipline. They’d been friends before anything else - the best of friends with a foundation of trust. He’s spent years trying to gain that trust and he vowed to keep it.

Of course he could have been that guy on many occasions: possessive, selfish, greedy and crude. He could have played his cards and dealt his dirty hand at the wrong moment and still pulled out ahead. I mean hell, how often do guys get out of the friend-zone? But he wasn’t that guy. No matter the relationship status — they weren’t ready.

They hadn’t been ready to cross that carefully drawn line in the sand, not until now. With the strawberry White Barn candle burning in the corner on the cluttered desk one could expect from a college student and a half full can of Arizona tea on the night stand...her face lit with a mystical kind of magic he’d only ever seen the day she leaned back after their first official kiss.

“Hold my hair.”

Grayson found the words slipping off his tongue easier than they’d come all night. All he’s planned on was a simple date in the park that was tucked away and secluded from all the people that could interrupt, he’d even brought her favorite book and laid back on a soft patch of grass to listen to her melodic voice read to him. He’d planned to come back and share a peck or two while watching a new episode of Daredevil and holding her through the night. She’d had a long day full of texts to him, trying to get him to give her the okay to walk out of her low-paying job and not look back. He never planned on laying her down on his bed and caressing every inch of her skin until he was finally delving into a place he’d never been quite like this.

He was nervous but he could do anything, be anything with her hand in his hair and her kind eyes watching him defile her. He just knew from this moment on he would have a reputation to uphold, as cocky as it sounded. He had to prove he wasn’t as lost as he felt. He felt like a virgin all over again, like he was doing something raw and real and scary. A secret only the wrinkled sheets would remind him of later.

Her touch, her soothing him through something that frightened him has always been a crutch for him to lean on. When he got in a fight with his brother, she was there to comb through his hair and talk him through the proper apology, when he decided to change majors and had a breakdown so crippling he couldn’t breathe she rocked him through it until his breath was even once again, when he wrecked his new car on the way home from a party he never should have been at she was right there to give him a kiss on the cheek and help him call the insurance company and his erratic mother who loved her like a daughter. She led him through the rough parts of life and then some.

He never imagined she would be leading him through something so sensual, but he needed her bringing him back to earth all the same.

Jesse obliged with a grin of her own, feeling him shuffle down to trail a string of kisses across her torso and down to the base of her need and desire. The fireball of want burned in her stomach, turning her rational thoughts brown and charred. He was good at that, making her need him fiercely. She’d never wanted anyone so much, and even if she thinks back to past flings - she’d never been satisfied like she was with Grayson, and they’d done much less.

“What are you thinking?” Jesse wonders, distracted by his soft supple lips and his nibbling at her hip, but wanting to hear the inner workings of his brain. Her fingers fidget, wanting to push him by his brown mop of hair down lower - just to feel him at last. She needed this distraction, she just needed his help to forget. Not that she hadn’t been waiting for months for this exact moment, there was just urgency in the way she’s stripped herself bare before him.

She almost expects him to wait for her direction, but jerks against him when he takes the lead all on his own. How could he not with her as his complete mercy, giving him the fuck me eyes and twisting a lock if hair around her finger?

Grayson thinks on that as he trails his mouth down, down, down to slick his tongue up the base of her, smirking to himself when she wiggles against him. “I’m thinking that I like you this way.”

The contact was a shock to her nervous system and a promise of what was soon to come if she kept tempting him the way she was. She was a heathen with angel eyes. Someone infatuated with his innocence (at least he was more innocent than she) and curiosity to learn every curve and dip of her body. He made her feel powerful, unstoppable, undeniable. She craved it as much as he craved her own lips tracking across his skin - in the heat of the moment or in the still of the night.

“Naked you mean?” She laughs then, trying to keep herself at least somewhat under control now that he’s grown some balls and taken the first step. She’s shocked momentarily that she didn’t have to practically order him into touching her.

She grips her breasts at another bold swipe of his tongue. Rolling her hardened nipples between her fingers and tensing at the sparks flying up her center. The feeling of him spreading her open, blowing against her throbbing clit is almost too much to bear. Jesse curses then, a soft “fuck” she tries to reel back before he gets too big of a head. She knows it fell on eager ears when he delivers another bold stripe of his tongue up her center -- slow and deliberate.

“Unguarded,” he finally grumbles, rubbing away the goosebumps that pepper her thighs. She thinks for a moment that she could gave turned off the ceiling fan circling over top of them, but feared she might burn up if it wasn’t for the white blades blowing on her crown of hair going every which way on the pillow.

She ignores how right he is - that she’s never been this vulnerable with him before, but instead rolls her eyelids shut to feel him really delve into her - opening his mouth and pressing his tongue to her flat. This is just what she needed, her favorite person trying something new and succeeding at it.

For someone that’s never given head, he was pulling it off. He was going to ruin her.

Glancing down at the yellow glow of the lamp illuminating the right side of his face, Jesse curled her fingers into his plush head of hair once again, somewhere between heaven and hell with no real knowledge of the difference.

She moans at his lips wrapping around her, the suction to her lower region and the way his thumbs dig into her skin to hold her in place. No running this time, she had no choice but to feel it all. This is what she wanted right?

“This feel okay?” he teases, tentatively trailing the tip of his tongue around the place she wanted most. He loved to see her eyes alight with that devilish incomprehensible lust. He was truly winging it, doing anything he’d heard from friends or watched himself late at night, anything to further her soft pants and moans tumbling out of her O shaped mouth. She was too good to be true and felt like one lucky bastard.

Nodding down to him she groans, wanting him latched to her. “M-more than okay just keep going.”

He never knew it could feel so pleasurable to be the giver and not the receiver nine times out of ten. He didn’t know how selfish he’d been and the opportunities he'd missed to feel compliant and...obedient. He liked it. He loved it. He loved the position he was in - her looking down at him like the goddess she was and always had been, him crouching down at the end of the bed to devour her in the best way he could, his hair disheveled, eyes dark with hunger, hands gripping her tight.

He lets instinct take the wheel, peppering kisses to her clit and bringing his own hand down to slip in a finger to add extra stimulation - pleased when Jesse releases another string of curses. Fowl language huh? Wonder what she’d do if he stopped-

“You’re such a dick-“ she tugs at his roots, rolling her hips into his mouth that savors her now, lips slick with her wetness. She tasted good, he’d concluded. It wasn’t anything like what he imagined it would be, no, it was better. It felt better than all of the horror stories he’d made up in his head. He’s sure if he wanted to - he could stay right down between her legs for hours -- until his lips were sore and his tongue tired. Stopping wasn’t an option. Not when she’s been waiting so long, fantasized too often. She huffs out again “Thought you’ve never done this before.”

That must be a good sign, right?

“Never,” he slurps at her, shaking his head and groaning into her core. He felt the slickness of her on his cheeks now. Bowing down to eat her out was harder than it looked, especially with back problems as it was.

Focused and drunk on Jesse’s gentle hip thrust into his mouth he hugs her thighs and stands upright, just off the edge of the bed, bringing her lower half up in the air with him. He can feel her trembling now, wide eyes gleaming at him with surprise and delight at the new and better position.

She was losing it. She’d had him compliant at first, her soft-hearted boyfriend trying something new...but damn he was tugging the ropes from between her fingers and leading her to a path less traveled. Quick learner he was.

“Grayson put me down! Have you lost your mind?” Jesse squealed, grinning at his closed eyes and moving lips, deaf to her antics. She was expected something quick, maybe even simple, but him switching up positions was not in the game plan as great as it was.

She could see it now, the guy that was always hiding just beneath the surface. She could see how her sounds urged him on and made him try harder. She could see his arms shaking from the weight of her legs and the effort it took to hold her pussy as close to him as he could. She could feel the heavy breath fanning out across her pelvis from his nose. She could feel the tickle of his hair dangling down and whispering across the skin of her stomach. She could feel that same ball of fire seated in her stomach slip lower and lower with each passing second - until the words that fell out of her mouth were nothing but strings of profanity would make a sinner blush.

It was going to sear her in half, that fucking ball of fire. Hot lava stirring up a flood she couldn’t stop. It was splitting her in half just as his digits were now, pumping into her hard and fast, curling at his knuckles. His rings gleam from the yellow lamp-light and shock her when they touch her dewy skin. She had lost all sense of control.

Hearing his own moans, hearing how desperate he was to keep eating her pussy and make her feel better than anyone had, got her inching towards the edge. It was a low kind of growl itching at his throat.

The taste of her blurred his senses, the soft smell of her making his mind spin out of control, the tightening walls of her cunt around his fingers fucking her fast, the light sheen of sweat that glowed in the dim light of his room - he was a madman with no direction but forward. He had to keep going, for stopping would surely break them both. He would love to tease her, but knew if he stopped one more time she would kill him in a heartbeat.

“Open your fucking eyes and watch me.” He barked down to her, stopping only for a moment to glare at her. His fingers continued their fast paced in and out, in and out, in and out.

He’d figured if he was going to take it all the way, he needed to pull every string. Needed to pull out the nasty daydreams and make them a reality. This is something he would have for keeps. Something he’d want to do over and over, something he couldn’t wait to do again. Something he’d want to remember.

Peeling her eyes open she sobbed at the sight of him spitting into her pussy with a smile, staring at her darkly. Light eyes blacked into pits he ruined her through and through. He had to be lying, he just had to be.

“Fast learner,” Grayson sneers, leaning forward to smear his saliva around her slick folds, arms circling her midsection to hold her close again.

“ Fuckfuckfuckfuck- keep fu- keep going!” Jesse begs, barely holding on to the light threatening to slip away into the fire burning her up. “Doing so good Gray, so fucking good.”

She had discovered soon in the relationship and the minimal sexual acts they’d indulged in that Grayson was a man that adored praise. He wanted someone to tell him how good he was doing, even if he already knew it. He wanted someone to look him in the eyes just as she was doing now and watch him succeed. He wanted complete undivided attention, verbal acknowledgment.

He sucked at her still, sliding his tongue into her quickly then — remembering someone in a poorly shot amateur porn video did the same to the tatted up blonde he was practically fucking to death, and hoped it would have the same effect on his beautiful princess begging for him to keep going. He kept note while he watched the video, knowing one day he would be standing where he is now relishing in the gold mine that belonged to him. He fucker her with his tongue, humming into her cunt for the added stimulation.

Fuck all she was the end of him. “Pretty pussy all wet for me, yeah? Want to cum? Bet you doubt me huh? Thought I wouldn’t do you right…”

He chucked at the vigorous nodding of her head, the eyes rolling in the back of her head, the hand that leaves his hip to pull at her own hair. Her eyes squeezing shut in panic now that she feels the tip of the iceberg coming up fast.

“Don’t even know how crazy you drive me, how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

Hearing him admit it only made her thighs quiver against his strong arms, only made her want more, made her creep dangerously close to the edge she was for once in her life afraid to fall off of. The crash into the sea would be the biggest shock she’s ever had. Jesse tried to focus on her breathing, trading the heaving for squealing when he dipped his tongue in her entrance to give her something to fantasize about. She’d never had someone tongue fuck her, let alone stair into her soul while they did it.

Fuck he was good. Too fucking good.

“Baby you have t-to slow down,” she warns, the big splash terrifying and so close. He was a wicked man for doing just the opposite, spreading her legs wider and shaking his head against her again, eyes squeezed shut like he knew what would happen in only a few seconds.

“Grayson step back,” she tried to warn more firmly, afraid of the unfamiliar feeling of something new about to happen, embarrassed already but too worked up to stop it. “Shit - Grayson step back!”

And there it was, the strongest orgasm she’d ever had and certainly the wettest. Her release soaked the bed beneath, sheets spotted with her arousal and breath stolen from her lungs. She’s not sure when Grayson had dropped her, or whether her convulsing body wiggled out of his grasp during the black out she’d just had. She was spread on the bed in her own mess, her chest flushed, damp hair stuck to her forehead in waves, vision blurred, eyelids drooping in exhaustion, hand somehow in Graysons.

He’s there then. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once, his hand a ghost on her forehead brushing away those tendrils of hair, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles with tender care, his lips smoothing the furrow of her brows. Grayson is lifting her without a word, caging her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and smoothing her head against his chest to feel the weight of her there - just to feel the heat of her consume him.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, spent.

“I hope it wasn’t too much,” he whispers into her hair, hand smoothing over the locks while rocking her around the room, mind racing with every image of what he’d just done and the feeling of complete bliss flooding his body.

He’s almost worried she fell asleep in his arms until he feels the shaking he can only assume is laughter, before she’s hugging him tighter. “Idiot. I can’t believe you’ve never done that. And I can’t believe I’m this tired. Feel like a rookie.”

“Guess I passed the test then?”

“Flying colors.”

Jesse nuzzles in as far as she can, tucking in her arms against his chest and letting the state of Nirvana wash over her. With a sigh Jesse thinks over the shocking events of her boyfriend being 100% nastier than she’d initially thought — not that she’s complaining.

She barely remembers Grayson running a bath, or setting her in the steaming tub with a kiss, or waiting for him to strip the bed with a giddiness sitting in his chest at all that they’d done, barely remembers him joining her in the tub and catching soap in the calm of his hand to smith the suds over her post-sex body. That’s the only way she would describe herself in the moment, her skin felt sensitive to the touch, sparks still shooting through her with the feeling of his hands on her.

What Jesse does remember is laying with Grayson in a bed freshly made, arm draped over his stomach, head resting against his arm, lips peppering kisses against his chest randomly through-out the night. She remembers the feeling of adoration and understanding. What they’d done was both the most foul thing she’d ever done, but also the most liberating and beautiful experience. To lose yourself in another person in such a way that you’re utterly consumed by them was...foreign to the pair laying together in the still of the night.

Jesse waited until Grayson was softly snoring until she said the only thing she’d never had the guts to tell him in the months they’d been dating. He’d been waiting on it patiently. It was different between friends, but it meant so much more when you don't want to say it to anyone else for the rest of your life. The moment she says it, she can’t ever take it back. Maybe that’s why she chooses the early hours of the morning to lean in and press her lips against his feather soft, blinking back the mist clouding her vision.

“Don’t know if you could tell...but I'm kind of in love with you...so just be patient with me please I’m trying for you.”

Maybe she would get the guts one day to say the words while he’s awake, maybe face to face or with the lights off because she has some kind of comfort in the dark, or maybe it would slip out on accident. In any way that it happens, she hopes he will smile. She hopes that he knows how insanely incandescently happy he makes her each and every day, and how honored she feels that she got to experience another first with him.She hopes he will be comforted that his feelings are 100% reciprocated. She hopes that she gets to see that beautiful smile he wears on special occasions -- the true smile that he doesn't show too often. For now she presses her lips to his once again, smiling softly as the slow ride and fall of his chest, arm holding her close, the ring she won him out of a shitty machine in the corner of a tattoo shop he’d stopped into on a whim secured on a thin chain around his neck, and the fluttering of his eyelashes while he dreamed.

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cedricslover · 3 years

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can you write a oneshot with wolfstars daughter dating george

Here you go bestie<33 thank u for requesting!!

As a wolfstar shipper and a George girl myself😌, I hope you like this bestie<33

Pairings: Sirius x Remus, George x Fem! Reader

Warnings: some homophobia at the beginning, teasing Sirius Black lmaooo

Word Count: 2.4k

“You want a future with me?”

“Hello dear” you turned around and saw one of your fathers, “Dad!” you jumped and hugged him, you just got off the Hogwarts express, this would be your last summer break since you’re going to be seventh year the next time you step at Hogwarts.

“How’s my baby girl?” He looked at you as you broke the hug, you smiled at the sight of him “Doing great, where’s dad?” you looked around while he picked up your trunk, “Here!” you heard the voice of your other father and your heart jumped out of joy when you saw him, you ran to him and hugged him too.

“Here’s a chocolate for our princess” he handed you a bar of chocolate, “Remus! You ruined my moment with her, you should show up at the exit, not here, you’re ruining my quality time with our daughter!” suddenly Sirius was having a tantrum, not likely a tantrum actually, he was just whining.

“No” Remus answered and looked away while he bit into his own chocolate bar. You laughed at them, “Stop acting like kids” you said and linked your arms to theirs.

“Excuse us?” They both said in unison and looked at you, their forehead creasing that made you laugh even more.

“You may” you nodded while closing your eyes and your parents just looked at each other, and it seemed like they were blaming the other one as to why you are so sarcastic.

“Let’s just go home” you dragged them by the arms since theirs are still linked to yours. You giggled as you saw Sirius not even struggling while carrying your trunk and at the same time being dragged by his daughter, and giggled even more when you saw your other dad who was just eating his chocolate quietly while observing the surroundings.

You three were just like a happy family, parents picking up their child that came from a boarding school, if it weren’t just the ugly looks the people gave you.

It seems like Sirius was also bothered by how people looked at the three of you, seriously? Can’t they just manage their own business.

Remus on the other hand was like used to it, he didn’t show any bothered expression, he didn't want to feed their satisfaction. That is something you got from him, that’s why you just let the people be, but of course, Sirius being Sirius.

He removed his arms from your link and grabbed Remus' face and took a bite from the chocolate that was centimeters away from his lips-being that he was eating it, your eyes widened registering how did that happen so fast, your jaw dropped, and a smile slowly formed in your lips as you saw Remus turning scarlet.

“Gross” you removed your arm that was around Remus’ and walked past them, your smile didn’t left your lips as you see mixed reactions from the crowd at the station, some were smiling, some were confused, some were probably uncomfortable, and of course, the people who were obvious to be insulted or disgusted.

Needless to say, Sirius is your father, so you flicked those people who looked openly disgusted by them, they were sneering, frowning, and rolling their eyes.

“Fuck off git” you mouthed as you walk, turning to them while your middle fingers were greeting them.

“Good job princess” Sirius laughed and high fived you as you three arrived at the front of number 12 Grimmauld Place, you weren’t sure what was the good job for, is it for flicking those people off or for successfully apparating, you decided to shrug it off and just viewed the house, it was your father’s ancestral home, it was filled by terrible memories of his childhood but with you three living there, it was all buried deep down.

You unconsciously stared at the beautiful house that was concealed in the muggles eyes. You felt nostalgic seeing your dads walking towards the door, memories from your childhood appeared in front of you.

A girl in a yellow flowy dress, around the age of four, was running towards two men with their arms open wide, expecting that the little girl would run to them instead of the other, but what they didn’t expect was the little girl would run straight to the space between them and both hug them from the necks.

The little girl was giggling while her dads were teary eyed, that’s when they realized, she never had favorites, if she had the choice to not choose, she wouldn’t.

“Y/N?” Remus called you from the doorstep, his head was cocking from the door. “Oh!” you ran to the door “call me before dinner yeah?” you told Remus as you removed your shoes. You raised your gaze to him with flashing eyes and maintained eye contact, waiting for his answer.

“Alright” he replied to you, you felt sudden joy not even sure why but it did make you kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks!, Love you dad!” you shouted as you ran towards the stairs,

“HOW ABOUT ME?!” you heard Sirius who was probably at the kitchen doing Merlin knows what, “I LOVE YOU TOO!” you yelled while you ran the stairway.

“YOU BETTER BE NOT PREGNANT WITH THAT WEASLEY BOY’S CHILD Y/N!” Remus’ voice echoed and you laughed and stopped from entering your room and peeked down while holding at the stair rails.

“DON’T WORRY, I’M NOT PREGNANT!” you shouted back and you heard his sigh of relief, “YET!” you added and sprinted to your room and closed the door.

You heard both of their voices shouting your name. You cackle while heading to your study table, your room was cozy, it was filled with different drawings you made when you were a child, there was your very first black leather jacket that Sirius gave you before he bought you a bicycle, it was hanging from a corner, properly displayed, he was expecting you to like motorbikes like he did, and you did, you like riding motorbikes.

There was also your very first hair accessories that Remus bought for you, hair pins, hair clips, headbands, and many more. He was the one who likes to tidy you up, even before you make yourself dirty by running and riding the bike. Of course Remus struggled but thankfully, Lily did teach him a few hairstyles when they were teenagers, and the rest of his knowledge came from going to different hair salons just to ask how to style his daughter’s hair.

An owl bumped on your window that made your brows raise and shift your head to that direction.

“Errol?” you said the name of the owl and he dropped a letter to your hand before he headed to your table and lay down, acting very exhausted, of course to your utter panic you immediately got water and placed it in front of him. You sighed as he drank through the container, enough for him to drink.

While he relaxed you opened the letter.

Hello beautiful,

I’ll arrive there at six, see you.

Your husband,

George

You bit your lower lip and smiled, then you forgot, you haven’t told your dads yet. Without wasting any time, you apparated to the kitchen.

“Hey” you voice lingered behind their backs and they jumped, they turned their heads to you with wide eyes, “You don’t do that here” Sirius said while holding his chest, “I almost had a heart attack” he glared at you while you just tried to not laugh,

“You’re just getting old dad” you stated that made him glare at you more, Remus smiled very very sweetly at you, trying to bribe you to not say it “and you too” you smiled back, looking at their sour faces.

“Enough” Remus raised both of his hands and shaked it, trying to shoo you. “I was about to say that George’s arriving at si-” you didn’t have the chance to finish your sentence when someone knocked at the door.

“I’ll get it” you announced, you three were quite tensed as to who might be at the door, you weren’t expecting visitors this early, it wasn't 6 o'clock yet.

You opened the door, ready to run back to the kitchen if something goes wrong, but what greeted who was something-or someone, who had a mischievous smile, his red hair shining because of the sun, and his brown eyes gleaming at you.

“Hello dove” his smile became wider as he caught the perfect view of his girlfriend, her Y/H/C hair complimenting her skin, the eyes that were obviously shocked to see him, and the smile that slowly formed on her soft lips.

“George!” you mentioned his name when you processed who was standing in front of you, he gave you a peck on the lips before he grabbed your waist and pushed you carefully to the side so he can walk, “hello Sirs” he cleared his throat and rubbed both of his hand on his pants before giving your fathers a hand shake.

This would probably be their very first ‘formal’ meeting, they already met each other at Hogwarts, during the Triwizard tournament, but that wasn’t formal enough, unlike now.

George was scratching the back of his neck and was being really nervous, you just surveyed them, and when you noticed something it was too late because your mouth opened before you can even think twice

“Dad, you’re the smallest” you told Sirius that made the three of them look at you, firstly George was shaking his head slightly, trying to tell you that it was not the right time, then Remus was also looking at you, he was trying his best to cross his brows but you can see the ghost of smile that was in his face, on the other hand, Sirius was there shooting daggers at you with his eyes like you’re not his child, then he slowly looked at Remus and George.

George was obviously the tallest, but only an inch taller than Remus, while Sirius, he’s just not a six footer.

“I-uh come George let’s prepare the table” even though it was still early, you reached for George’s hand, still feeling the stares of your father, you wanted to laugh, so hard, but he might not buy you your favorite cereal, so you chose to suck it up.

“Why’d you do that?” George started talking as you fetched his wand and used it to prepare the table using magic, “it was my mouth’s fault, anyway, you told me you're arriving at six, it's not six yet” you answered and watched the floating plates and utensils.

“I was trying my best not to laugh dove, please don’t do that again in front of your parents, I might lose goodie points, and I meant six minutes not six o'clock” he chuckled as he hugged you from the back, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his chin on the top of your head.

“Even if you lose goodie points, I’ll still love you don’t worry” you faced him and cupped his face, his face that was always as perfect, those freckles that can make a constellation, his eyes that you would prefer to look at rather than the stars, and his hair that would always stand out.

It was like a magnetic pull, your faces was slowly getting nearer and nearer, almost there, the finish line, his lips onto yours, inches turned to an inch, heartbeats getting fast, and you can feel his breath, then his soft lips was supposed to be next

Not until someone cleared their throat that made you push George out of reflex.

“No snogging in this house, you understand that angel?” Sirius crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, “Yes dad” you replied, slightly embarrassed so you chose to continue to prepare the table while George can’t maintain eye contact with you or anyone in the room.

“Sorry dad” you walked to Sirius who was still in the entrance of the kitchen, surprisingly he smiled at you, “Yeah that’s for bullying me” he wrapped his arms over your shoulder “But about that almost kiss? I’m not mad don’t worry, we all kiss someone at some time” he added like it was just common sense for him to not get mad.

“I love you” you said out of the blue while you two watched Remus and George laughing at the dinner table, you rested your head on his chest, “I love you more princess” you felt him kiss the top of your head.

“Just walk with the boy outside while we clean here alright?” Remus looked at you and George, he tapped George’s shoulder before he turned his back to the both of you and be with Sirius who was still drinking wine at the table.

“Come on” George called you and touched your back to guide you, your eyes were still looking at your parents, mesmerized by their strong bond.

“Georgie?” you tried to get his attention while you two walked the dim lighted streets, only the flickering lamp posts and the moon were the sources of light.

“Hmm?” he was busy playing your hand, touching every bit of it, and even comparing it to his. “You think we would be like them?” you stopped on your tracks, feeling the night summer breeze brushing your skin, "Like who love?" He stared at you, now holding your hand firmly, "Sirius and Remus" you answered and tucked the few strands of hair that was bothering your face because of the wind, you looked at his eyes and saw amusement and adoration all over it.

“You’re asking me that?” a lopsided smile appeared on his face, you nodded slightly as an answer, “You’re thinking of marrying me?” he asked you again, now giving a full smile, you nodded again, “You," he pointed to you "want a future with me?” he pointed to himself, his eyes smiling the same as his lips, you nodded again, oblivious of how that made George’s inner monologues that was doubting what would happen with the both of you disappear, because who wouldn’t, you’re Y/N, raised by two amazing people, you’re beautiful, intelligent, bold, and many more that he would even consider you as perfect.

And you’re here, saying that you wanted a future with him.

Now, with the moon smiling at the both of you, the stars being your cheerleaders, your lips met, you hooked your arms around his neck while he cups your face with one hand and the other holding your waist.

At this night, two teenagers shared a kiss under a lamp post, during the summer of 1995.

#george weasley #george fabian weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #weasley twins #remus x sirius #dad Sirius #dad remus #wolfstar #lgbtq #harry potter boys

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home.

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others. But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

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fckwritersblock · 3 years

Text

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

—————————-

Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

#transformers imagine #transformers #Captain William lennox #william lennox #Lennox x reader #sam witwicky #will lennox x reader #transformers x reader #black!reader #Sam witwicky x reader #optimus prime

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Can I have something super soft and sweet with Andrea? I need some content from my cottagecore husband. You can decide whatever you want to do with it!

The Perfect Day [Andrea Marowski x fem!Reader]

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff

A/N: thank you for making me write this lifesaver <3

The soft chirping of the birds woke you up. You stirred lightly, a smile coming across your lips as you felt the soft lavender scent over your young husband skin. You slept holding hands, your forehead against his chest as your eyes got used to the bright light outside the window.

The soft cotton sheets clung around your naked bodies along with some heavier quilted duvet, legs tangled as he breathed slowly still deep into his slumber.

You observed him into his simplest nature, he looked so much younger when asleep, his features perfect as kissed by the gentle morning light.

You slowly moved your hand away, he frowned but with time you mastered the art of leaving the bed without awakening him. He huffed, face buried into the pillows as he rolled onto his stomach covering the warm spot you left. Your hand gently onto his soft hair caressing them away from his face. The time seemed to be something unknown to you.

After adjusting the covers over his shoulder you shivered into your nakedness, your hands grasping onto your white nightdress pulling it over you to cover your frame before adding up a burgundy cardigan belonging to Andrea to protect you against the goosebumps your body suffered for leaving the warm comfort of his presence.

You stepped into the kitchen quietly, breathing in the soft smell of a new day. Your hands went immediately to unveil the dough that was covered by a cloth and you left to raise during the night, it was now ready to be baked and you’ll have your warm bread for the day. Andrea spent the day before picking up the mature fruits from your trees, so it was easy to wash them and cut them while you put on the pot for your morning tea.

You hummed softly a song that Andrea was rehearsing with his violin for few days, now helplessly stuck with you, your hands unveiling the pie you prepared the day before cutting some slices.

Before anything else you moved away going to your garden standing barefoot onto the cold stone of the steps, you hugged yourself enjoying the view before slipping on some comfortable shoes and settling the table. The summer day was amazing and the morning breeze made the heat unnoticeable. A white table cloth with fresh flowers and then your started going back and forth from the kitchen to the garden bringing dishes and plates

You blinked surprised as little Anthony, the 14 years old son of the local baker, passed by with his bike waving at you. He blushed as you just looked so calm and relaxed.

“Got the mail and the newspaper Mrs Marowski” he said as he hopped off his bike to hand it to you. You picked one of the peaches you got into a basket nearby handing it to him I return “Thank you Anthony, have a good day”

He smiled and nodded vehemently as he rushed off back to his duties.

You looked down onto the mails: an invite to a concert in London, something from your parents, something in polish coming from Andrea’s family and a voluminous yellow envelope that was coming from Andrea's favourite music shop in London and by the weight you could tell it was some new music sheets. Also a note from your seamstress telling you that the new winter coats need the last fittings.

You were about to check the first page of the newspaper as a loud meowing made you jump.

Andrea was standing in front of you, soft khaki pants with a loose white shirt, your cat draped onto him, a beautiful grey British short hair who was staring at you.

“Did Laszlo woke you up?”

“Did you doubt it?” Andrea asked with a chuckle as he leaned closer to you, a kiss resting onto your lips as the cat jumped off his arm.

“I hate to wake up on an empty bed, even if your table setting is the best” he assured as he smiled at you tangling you into another kiss.

“Mh, the tea” you just reminded yourself as he chuckled

“One more, one more” he begged between chuckles stealing another kiss before letting you go inside and he proceeded to give the annoying boss of your cat the food he deserved and demanded.

He sat on the chair enjoying the soft breeze as you brought a small tray with the tea to complete the set up.

He hummed softly opening the package coming from London gleefully as he admired his new music sheets.

“Your presence is required to see a new concert, I think they want to show off to have you as solo violin” you said showing him the invitation while sitting with him. He admired you, he stared at you with a soft smile “I will have to hear my agent first” he said as he meant you. You always had a good gut feelings and often kept him from taking random impulsive decisions.

“There’s something from your family too” you added and he smirked

“You read it first” he said as he was helping you with polish and you sighed softly using one of your butter knives to open the letter. His hand quickly went to your cookies taking one happy bite as he still stared at the music on paper.

His eyes darting up only to look at you focused onto the paper scribbled by his parents and you nodded explaining to him a letter that was mostly about every day updates

“This word” you signalled as he leaned in lightly in to read it as there was only one point you didn’t seem to grasp not even by the words before or after it.

He chuckled loudly almost chocking onto the crumbles covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?”

You asked as he blushed deeply.

“Oh no, they hated my knit work? Is it that?”

He shook his head as you frowned at him waving that letter expecting an answer before your mind went onto the worried train of thoughts.

“It means” he licked his lips, eyes shining “It means pregnancy, not literally it is a more discreet way to say it, more like expecting something, but they mean that, my mum wants to know when she can call herself grandmother”

You blushed deeply as you looked down, you are such a young couple and you’re actually enjoying this phase, now it is not like every little delay of your period didn’t make your heart do the backflips, but to be asked so directly felt weird.

“Don’t worry about it, she means it in a good way, they adore you and they keep saying how you brought some sense into me”

He smiled taking your hand gently kissing the back of it.

“We have Laszlo for now it is more than enough” he joked to light you up and you giggled “Indeed” you said as you looked around finding the cat running after some butterflies. Andrea always complained that Laszlo hated him, Laszlo was your cat even before the polish man came into your life, but truth to be told they were best buddies: the cat would always check where he was and Andrea was the first to always feed him.

“I was thinking we could go to town today, I promised Ursula to play for her tea party with some friends coming all the way from Edinburgh and maybe we can go past the bookshop and buy some flour and whatever else. I could plant some pumpkin seeds, I love your velvety pumpkin cream for autumn”

You smiled as he really can’t wait for the colder season even if that meant to see you more dressed and clothed he also loved to nuzzle with you in front of the fire.

“Agreed” you said and he smiled proudly as you handed him the letter from your family and he sighed softly but proceeded to read it like you did with his.

He was way better at English, but mostly spoken English, he still hated to read and you picked books for him too even if he always puppy eyed you into reading for him.

He read quietly the letter as you ate some pie. He frowned lightly as he spelled out loud some words, sometimes he did it to learn the difference from a word that he knows and how it was written.

When you both drank your tea and he finally indulged into the local news he hushed you to get dressed “You take the longest to get ready, I’ll clean up” he said winking at you making you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

So you did, you went to wash yourself and braided your hair into an updo hairstyle, a light white dressy shirt and a long pleaded skirt for you as you also prepared the clothes for him.

As you redid your bed and he walked inside after clearing up the kitchen you couldn’t help but adore him into his little routines, the way he shaved and got prepared, the way he wore the clothes you figured out for him with happy delight. He loved how you looked after him, he felt loved, the small attentions like that one put him at rest, he relaxed and he felt babied and he loved it.

He picked the case of his violin handing it to you using it to pull you closer and steal another kiss. You chuckled as he leaned in to kiss you again, and again, and once more.

“Andrea” you whispered as he chuckled softly kissing you once again, he smelled so good, his skin soft and perfumed thanks to his aftershave oil.

How could you resist him?

“Two minutes” you whispered leaning back down the violin over your vanity to be able to wrap your arms around his neck letting out a soft yelp as he fell over you on the bed.

Useless to say that it wasn’t two minutes and not even twenty, your trembling legs around him and the way you guided him to give you just what you wanted from him always drove him crazy.

After a short nap you really had to begin to get going, he helped you to dress up slowly zipping up your skirt and you had a new rush of pleasure just by buttoning up his shirt covering his chest peppered with hickeys.

You locked the house and he pulled out his black bike putting the violin box in the basket on the front along with your white one “I prefer when we go with one” he complained but you chuckled “yes, but if we buy few things we will have to go by walking” you made him notice and he sighed nodding.

He waited for you as you pedalled your way to the town centre, he was swaying in front of you and you raced a bit against each other until the stone bridge that welcomed you there.

“See you at Ursula’s” you said and he nodded leaning in to kiss you one more time, he indulged into that kiss a littlest as he opened his eyes slowly, a smile playing over his lips.

“My wife” he said, sometimes he repeated it like he had to remind himself. You chuckled as you kissed his cheek and you go parted.

You knew Ursula liked to pared Andrea off, you let her do it, she came with time to like you, she saw how much good you did to Andrea, how much balance you gave to him, his behaviour was stable, he settled down.

You stopped to the local grocery store taking up some spices, some cinnamon in particular as you knew how much Andrea loved it on sweets, few little cooking and baking items you missed and then off to the bookstore.

“Hello hello” you said as the old man there greeted you “The books you ordered arrived” he said as he moved his shaky legs into the back of the shop bringing you the easy books in polish you ordered to practice some reading. You smiled looking at them as Andrea gave you the titles of books that made his youth and also few new ones for him. You added to that stock a new cooking book and few novels for Andrea and his English. The old man was the sweetest, he kept the booster open no matter the weather and politics and he always made sure to find anything you might be looking for.

He helped you tie all your buyings together onto the bike so after paying you just pushed it walking through the town, just enjoying a good time around giving yourself time until you made it to Ursula’s home.

Well, you called Ursula’s but Janet as always there even if her presence was always quieter you teamed up with her most of the time letting Ursula enjoy her time with Andrea.

You smiled stopping in your track as you heard the soft sound of the violin, you closed your eyes breathing in, like you could enjoy the music through the air.

You adjusted your dress and smiling to yourself, the moment sinking in slowly.

Your husband, your life, the idea of coming back home together, cuddle on the couch, listen to his words, having his honey eyes on you.

A natural smiled appeared on your lips.

After few moments you decided to keep going, you pulled your bike letting it rest against the fence, Janet appearing at the doorstep to welcome you in.

Your perfect day.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#andrea marowski #andrea marowski fanfiction #andrea marowski x reader #andrea marowski x you #andrea marowski headcanons #cottegecore Andrea Marowski #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl

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1kook · 4 years

Text

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you. Warnings: emotional constipation, toxic ex, internalized misogyny, jk has bad experiences w/his ex’s dad, one scene where jk throws up, brief episode of panic, mentions of terminal cancer (minor); smut; fingering, praise kink, face fucking, spitting kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex on top of a car im sorry Misc: autoshop owner!jk, businesswoman!oc, slice of life, childhood crushes, friends to lovers, ex gfs, pining, country bumpkin pjm w/crush on oblivious oc, ex-bf kth but it’s not real lol Wc: 19.4k (wow!!!)

the spirit of auto shop jk possessed me n next thing i knew i was 11k into a drabble. if ur curious: the 1975 corvette, car at the end, the tweed suitskirt (not actually chanel ☹️sowwyyy) also: this is the longest fic I've written!!!!! clap for me!!!!! i proofread the first few paragraphs n was like thats enough professionalism for the day

inspired by ain’t no mountain high enough one of my fave songs ever🥺 the title is a lyric from the song bc i love it so much enjoy !!

The garage is mostly dark when you enter, the faint hum of a radio quietly filtering through the stagnant room, its source coming from the back wall, where the only light is. It’s a rolling lamp, shining down an ugly yellow glow onto the figure of one man.

Jungkook’s sitting in that same rolling stool he always is, the metal one that’s rusted beyond repair, the cushion so uncomfortably flat. He’s caught up in whatever paint job he’s been tasked with this time around, a classic muscle car from what looks like the 80’s. He’s humming along to the radio, so caught up in stenciling out his design that he doesn’t notice you creep behind him until you’re very purposefully rattling the tool cart beside him, a teasing “boo!” making him jump.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he gasps, rubs over his chest as if to check if his heart is in fact still there. You grin, brandish your bag of takeout out for him before he can lecture you on the dangers of startling people who work around very complex machinery. Instead, all he says is, “you’re an angel.”

Once you’ve got the food carefully scattered across his work bench, your cherry cola tucked next to a canister of gasoline like that’s the safest practice, Jungkook wastes no time diving into all the details of his project, the 1975 Chevy Corvette behind him. The longer you look at it, the more you feel you’ve seen it somewhere. Probably a car show, you presume.

“Purrs like a kitten,” he sighs dreamily, completely ignoring the way half his toppings slide out from the opposite end of his cheeseburger. You don’t, and you swipe a fallen pickle from his tray before he can catch you.

“A kitten?” You ask, glance over at the car. It’s desperately in need of a paint job, and you only realize this now as you stare at it more in depthly. The niggling feeling that you know this car is still there, but you ignore it in favor of indulging your best friend. “Don’t people usually compare cars to bigger, better cats?”

There’s a taped stencil running alongside the car, a thick stripe followed by a thinner one, and you suppose Jungkook’s trying to spice her up, give her back the same youthfulness she probably had in her prime. What better way to do so than by adding some classic stripes alongside it.

Jungkook hums, gulps down his soda noisily. “Not this one. Never heard an engine as soft as hers.”

You roll your eyes. For a minute, the two of you quietly chew through your burgers, the radio filling in the gaps while you analyze the car. You know this car, but you can’t remember where. Jungkook coughs into his palm, probably from trying to inhale his fries too fast like he does every time you go to the diner you’re eating from today.

The diner.

A mouthful of braces. A pretty waitress. A strict dad.

“Holy shit, this is Sojin’s dad’s car,” you inhale, the memories from high school suddenly hitting you full force. Jungkook chokes, out of surprise this time, and furiously goes to deny your claims. “This is totally his car. The one he tried to run you over with when he caught you trying to put her on the back of your bike.”

“He didn’t try to run me over,” Jungkook whines, and the tips of his ears are red from your revelation.

You glare. “Why are you fixing that asshole’s car for him?” You interrogate, the last quarter of your burger forgotten in favor of squeezing the truth out of him. You’d had enough of that treacherous woman and her equally deranged father causing Jungkook trouble, and to catch him still helping her now, almost ten years later, was enough to make a brain vessel pop.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he picks through his fries. The radio is still on, some tune you recognize from those old days at the diner when Jungkook had become so unbelievably smitten with the part timer that served you milkshakes every Wednesday afternoon.

He had been in love with her the moment he saw her, and the look in his eyes was only magnified by those dorky glasses he wore pre-lasik. You'd been his friend long enough, recognized the jump of his scrawny thigh beneath the table. Like a bunny, thumping in excitement at the sight of her.

Sojin was... full of surprises.

She was nothing less than a supermodel, long legs carrying her around the diner as if it was her runway. She was nice too, so you hadn’t originally had an excuse to dislike her. She was nice, and so endeared with your best friend that it was inevitable when they began dating. Her presence consumed the end of your high school careers, overtook the time that should have been yours and Jungkook’s last year before being thrown into adulthood. He decided on studying at a technical school nearby—per your encouragement to save money—while you travelled five hours out for your degree in business. That last year, when you had finally come to terms with your feelings, had been so painfully ripped away by Sojin and her never-ending list of teenage drama, and by Sojin’s dad and his overbearing need to police her and Jungkook every chance he got.

Jungkook still hung out—“Sojin was busy, do you wanna do something?”—but more often than not those hang outs consisted of Jungkook telling you about her and her dad, about how hard he tried to get into his good graces.

The bike incident had only been one of many. Times where Jungkook would put his heart—and life—on the line for that girl only for it to be in vain every time she broke up with him over the simplest things. You’d heard stories from Jungkook, all told with a tight smile, of a handshake that would bruise, a man chasing him with a bat, of a car following him to school. All things he put up with for a girl who didn’t care for him. One day, after Jungkook had grudgingly sat through an hour long dinner with her family, the stare of her father piercing through him, she broke up with him because she didn’t like how long his hair had gotten.

(If anyone were to ask you, he was handsome with long hair. Dreamy even.)

He cut it that same day.

As her childishness grew, you quickly came to dislike her. She strung Jungkook around, you thought, and just when you thought she was finally done toying with him and making his life difficult in the sneakiest ways, the damn kid started hitting the gym. His growing frame, toned arms and now straightened teeth had turned him into a heartthrob, and Sojin was just as aware of this as you were. “Don’t we look perfect together?” She’d ask, twirl around him like they were on the cover of a magazine and not standing on his chipped front porch.

Needless to say, by the time graduation had rolled around you despised the woman. You absolutely disliked how she treated Jungkook, how she let her father treat Jungkook without ever stepping up and defending him. Granted, you didn’t know exactly what went on in her household behind closed doors, you’d seen enough of her uncaring attitude to want to ram her and her dad’s head against the hood of the car.

Which is why seeing the old car, in Jungkook’s shop nonetheless, was rekindling a boiling hatred in your chest. “That man should rot in hell for all he put you through,” you huff, glare at the car like it holds some magical connection to him and he can feel the intensity of your stare.

“___,” Jungkook scolds, swirls his cup around to distract himself. “He was just trying to protect his only daughter,” he defends, quietly, like it’s what he tells himself to justify all those years of mistreatment. Even when he and Sojin had continued through college, it had never stopped. You, being five hours away, couldn’t do a damn thing. “Besides, the guy’s old as hell now.”

You snort, finally breaking your staring match with the car. Glancing at Jungkook, he’s got that same forlorn expression on his face, the one he started wearing when he first came to terms with the fact that her dad would never like him. There was a time it was stuck permanently on his face, the pressure and the discomfort that came from the father of the girl you’ve dated for five years looking at you like you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

When you came back from school, educated and confident, you almost didn’t recognize your best friend. Tall and broad, tattoos splattered over his arm. Hair long like you loved it, but eyes still as round and wondrous as they’d been when you were kids. He had his own place now, he told you, and you vaguely remembered all the times he mentioned him and Sojin moving in together, mentally preparing yourself to see that wench for the first time in a while.

Much to your surprise, there was no Sojin in sight. No lingering artifacts of her presence. Nothing that showed she existed in this space besides an ugly orange mug she’d given him for his birthday one year, tucked into the very back of his cabinets. They’d broken up, he explained. Almost immediately after graduation.

After stringing him along for the better part of five years, she had decided this wasn’t what she wanted. No, what she wanted was a man ten years her senior with an abundance of cash to flow. Jungkook hadn’t cried. Hadn’t even looked the tiniest bit upset when you ordered pizza and drank some beer, watched your favorite episodes of The Simpsons like you were seventeen and avoiding your homework again.

You stayed the night, a little too tipsy to drive home. Besides, Jungkook had a spare bedroom. It was a room beside his, just a full bed with a chest of drawers. You liked it, liked the scent of him surrounding you after only seeing each other for a couple weeks in between months of distance. You liked it, because when he shifted in bed you realized the beds were pressed against the same wall, and you liked it until the shared wall spared you no secrets, and you listened to him quietly sob into his pillow.

“Old or not, he’s still the devil,” you murmur, snapping back to the present where Jungkook is wheeling himself closer to the car again. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

He stays silent, quietly pretending like he still has something to do on the car besides paint it. Then, “I bumped into Sojin at the store.”

You sigh, drop your head between your shoulders. You can only imagine what whirlwind of a sob story she had to throw on him to win this favor.

“Kook,” you start, gauging his reaction only from his backside. His muscles ripple beneath his dark t-shirt, his usual red jumpsuit knitted around his waist. “What happened?”

Again, silence.

You say nothing, let him sort through the hurt on his own while you creep up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and pressing down on the cricks behind his neck. He melts into your touch, head lolling forwards as a quiet sigh escapes him.

“She told me she was low on cash, and she needed the car to get to work,” he confesses, and from his ducked position, his voice trembles. You roll your eyes.

“And the paint job?”

A particularly rough press of your fingers has a whimper escaping him. God, this boy needed to see a chiropractor and a masseuse soon. All that hunching over and under these cars was doing a number on his back.

“I… I figured I might as well fix up the exterior too.” Of course he would, you think, Jungkook’s heart was stupidly big and easy to manipulate. He would get so swept up in it sometimes, trying to do the best he can for everyone’s benefit that he’d ignore himself.

You sit in his confession, fingers digging into his skin for a few minutes as you consider what to say.

The mature adult in you, the logical half of you, wants to hit him upside the head, scold him for letting that wench into his life again so easily. You were going on twenty-six now, all three of you, and you didn’t have time to be fixing him every time that childish woman decided to toy with him. Granted, it’s been four years since you last saw her, since you heard him muffle his cries on the other side of the wall, and you liked to think Jungkook was a respectful adult of society now. He didn’t have time to get dragged around by self-absorbed women with insane fathers.

The other part, the best friend since childhood, wants to run away. Wants to pack Jungkook into a suitcase and take him far away from here and from her. Unlike you, who now lived in the city, Jungkook had stayed in your small hometown, a quiet place just outside the bustling city. It was difficult to ensure his happiness when you were always forty-five minutes out of reach. It would be so much easier to just take him and fly to another province, maybe on the beach, Jungkook loved the beach.

“Listen,” he says, successfully pulling you out from your spiral. “I know what you’re gonna say and I just wanna tell you it’s not like that.”

You blink, hands stilling on his shoulders. Your lack of movement allows him to spin around on his chair, gaze up at you with the same shiny gaze he’s given you ever since you were kids. “I’m just doing her this tiny favor. She looked...” he trails off, face scrunching to find the words.

“Like shit?” You propose, and he smiles. “Like flaming dumpster shit behind a club?”

Jungkook laughs, loud and beautiful. You want to kiss the mole beneath his lip.

“She looked bad, okay?” He settles, reaches forward to take your palm in his. You’re standing between his thighs, and you wonder how he would have acted if you were Sojin. “Don’t think things worked out with that CEO she was dating. I’m just giving her a push.”

You sigh, try to push those crestfallen sobs to the back of your head. “Okay,” you agree, briefly glancing back at the damn car. “You fix her car, and that’s it,” you state. Jungkook nods, makes a little X over his heart. He knows how much you hate that woman. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he agrees, then reaches down for a white spray can. “You wanna spray some dicks on it before I paint it?”

“Please,” you laugh, taking the face mask he offers you with a grin.

—

One day your car starts making a weird noise as you pull out of the underground parking garage of your building. It’s somewhere between a pig squealing and metal scraping. You’ve been around Jungkook long enough to know this is probably something to do with your breaks, something about them being loose or old, one of the two. You have a short day at work today. There’s repairs being done to the office you work at, so everyone’s been spending more time working from home.

You leave work a little after two pm, head pounding from the hour long meeting you sat through, the mediocre business proposals your boss had asked you to look through and file. There’s a hefty load of emails waiting in your inbox, mostly the interns requesting you write them a recommendation letter. You’ll have to look through those later, pick out the good ones and write them each a unique piece kissing the ground they walk on.

The scent of freshly fried donuts hits your nose as you pull into your old town; the bakery down the road from Jungkook’s has their windows open. You can already taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue, the iced coffee cooling your insides as you sit and watch Jungkook work on your car.

Jungkook’s shop is on the corner of the street, takes up a huge chunk with it’s massive garage and driveway; the office area is tiny compared to the sheer size of the actual work floor. There’s music blaring through the overhead speakers, and when you pull in you recognize it as Jimin’s playlist.

“Morning, Miss,” the country bumpkin says, leaning against your car door as you rifle through your purse. “What’re you in for?”

“Hi, Jimin,” you reply sweetly, take his hand as he helps you out the door. You very vaguely explain the noise your car had made that morning, glancing around the shop as Jimin gets to work inspecting it. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin’s waving over some other employees, all greeting you in their matching red jumpsuits. “Kook’s in the office,” he tells you, and it’s almost sensual the way his hand glides over your palm for your keys. God, you needed to get laid. “Has some lady friend in there with him.”

You pause, the bustling of the crew behind you fading into the background. Something inside you snaps, and you whirl around the garage, before catching sight of a 1975 Chevy Corvette, almost unrecognizable from how you’d last seen it. It’s bright red now, a color you only briefly saw before you’d left the other night, with two, lightning bolt racing stripes decorating each side. It looks new, almost in mint condition, and the fact it’s still here has you storming through the garage.

Your heels clack loudly, the crew moving to the side as you torpedo straight into the offices. You barely remember to greet the receptionist before you’re stomping straight into the main office.

There’s no knock, no warning given, before you’re flinging the door open, seeing exactly what you’d expected.

“___,” Jungkook stutters, jumping onto his feet from his position on the couch. He looks frantic, wide eyes flickering between you and the woman sitting in front of him, her back turned to you. But you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Did you say ___?” She says, and she’s still as tall and as beautiful as you remember her. Had it not been for the heels you wore, you don’t doubt she’d tower over you. She flashes you a killer smile, lips carefully painted red. It almost looks murderous. “My! ___, you haven’t changed a bit,” Sojin exclaims, rushing around the couch to pull you into a tight hug. You don’t return it.

You let her cling to you for a second, before pushing her away as gently as you can by the shoulders. As much as you’d like to rip her in half, tear her apart for all she did to Jungkook, you won’t. You’re older now, elegant in all the ways you weren’t before. It would be a huge disservice to your maturity if you shoved your heel up her ass right now.

“It’s lovely seeing you, Sojin,” you smile, taking her hand in yours.

Besides, being a woman in business meant you knew better, more creative ways to strike.

“And your boyfriend?” You ask, tilting your head in staged confusion. You even glance around the office, like you’ll find the geezer hiding behind the potted plant or Jungkook’s frozen figure. “The rich one with the huge company? Did he come with you today?”

Her smile tightens, red lips pursed as she gauges you with those cat eyes that haunt your nightmares every now and then. “My ex-boyfriend,” she corrects after a minute, pastes a forlorn expression onto her features. “We’ve separated, and you know how it is for women like us,” she jests. “We need a man to push us along—“

“Do we?” You ask, think back on all those years of school, of studying and working and pushing yourself, all the time you spent investing in yourself for yourself. “I don’t think so,” you contemplate. “It’s really embarrassing if you can’t care for yourself without the help of a man. Almost like you don’t trust in your own abilities, and ride other’s coattails instead.”

A beat of silence. Two completely different worlds, and Jungkook hovering awkwardly beside you.

Two palms grasp your shoulders from behind, and when you turn Jungkook is smiling at you, forced and stressed like he can’t stand to be in this uncomfortable situation any longer. “Well,” he announces, pushing you behind him as he guides Sojin towards the door. “There was an issue with her car, so I’ll just check on it real quick, okay?”

You nod, feel empty as he takes her by the wrist, and not you. He hands her her purse, palm on the small of her back as they exit the office. When the door clicks shut behind them, you throw your own handbag at the ground, barely stop yourself from stomping like a child.

Instead, you breathe in, hold it, and exhale, just like your Tuesday yoga instructor taught you. By the time you’ve collected yourself a few minutes have passed, so you kneel down to gather your fallen lipstick tubes and cellphone from the floor, scooping them back into your purse.

Tugging the door shut behind you, you mindlessly wander down the hall, until you reach the small receptionist area and nearly get jumped by Kim Taehyung. “Holy shit, you won’t believe this,” he gasps, takes you by the shoulders and nearly shakes you until your brain falls out through your ears. You would have slapped him, had this been any other man, but he’s quite possibly the only man besides Jungkook you’d let jostle you like this. “You’ll never guess who just left the office with J—wait,” he pales, suddenly connecting two and two, your exit from said offices definitely a key factor in whatever conclusion he’s drawn. “You were in the office with Hwang Sojin and you didn’t kill her?!”

You huff, let him shake you again until you’re nearly tripping in your heels. “Yes, I know,” you groan, finally slap his hands away when you begin to feel this morning’s breakfast bubbling from all the motion. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow,” Taehyung marvels, leans back against the receptionist desk even though the poor girl has told him time and time again not to. He ignores her, something he can do as second best friend to the boss. “Remember when she showed up crying outside his mom’s house and you threw a potted plant at her? Oh how the great have fallen.”

Rolling your eyes, you drift over to the plexiglass window in the office that looks out across the entirety of the garage floor. In the corner, Jungkook’s got the hood of the Corvette open as he works away on something, Sojin tapping at her phone beside him. “Why are you here, Tae?”

He steps beside you, tuned into the same scene. “Can’t visit my ex-girlfriend every now and then?” He teases, you groan.

“We dated for three days, dude, let it go,” you whine, and watch with rapt attention as Jungkook motions for her to start the engine. She does, and it purrs to life, soft and silky just like Jungkook said it does. She squeals and claps, launches herself into his arms in thanks. You look away.

“Yuck,” Taehyung gags and you couldn’t agree more. “Can’t believe you ended the best 72 hours of my life for that pinhead and the hussy attached to his hip.”

He shrieks when you pinch his side, and you take great satisfaction in the judgemental stare half the crew sends him through the glass. After all, they weren’t soundproof. “You embarrassed me and my brand,” he huffs, crossing his arms as the two of you return to watching Jungkook and the hussy.

“He’s not a pinhead,” you softly retort, watch him wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead as he waves her off. Sojin sends him a brigade of air kisses, none of which he catches. A sick sense of glee consumes you at the sight, but then he’s turning to stare directly at you and Taehyung through the glass, and the both of you quickly whirl away.

“His ability to find you in less than a second is so weird,” Taehyung shivers, and you ignore it, taking the candy from the bowl on the receptionist desk. She doesn’t care, having heard these conversations more than enough times to get the general gist of what you and Taehyung gossip about. You’re surprised she’s never mentioned it to Jungkook before.

Regardless, you listen to Taehyung complain about his life for a few more minutes, before Jimin’s sweet voice pops into the room. His ash blonde hair is all ruffled, and there’s something dark smeared over his otherwise perfect skin as he tells you your car is fixed. Taehyung bids you goodbye, and Jimin walks you back to your car out on the garage floor.

“All set, miss,” Jimin grins, puts a hand against the car so you don’t hit your head as you go in. You thank him, and don’t miss the way he lingers by your window.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilt your head quizzically. Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he looks shyly at the ground.

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

“___,” Jungkook calls, jogging over beside Jimin, who looks almost ashamed to be caught doing...whatever it was he was gonna do. Jungkook glances at him, catches him in some weird staring contest before crouching down to your window. “You needed your car fixed? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blink, don’t know how to politely tell him he was too busy kissing the ass of his toxic ex-girlfriend to help you out. “Jimin helped me,” you smile, the same practiced expression you’ve mastered since college. You usually get by, usually trick people with that look, but not with him. Jungkook knows you too well, knows that look, and knows you’re holding yourself back. “You were busy.”

His lips part in surprise, tugged downwards with the hint of a frown. “I,” he stutters, looks at Jimin, who doesn’t seem that impressed with him either. “I… I would’ve came if you called.”

You tug your sunglasses out from their little case, slide them over the bridge of your nose as you strap your seatbelt over yourself. “Would you though?” You ask, flash him another polite smile before shifting your car’s gears. Jimin walks off, clears the path for you to exit, and with just Jungkook standing there, you speak freely. “I would hate to distract you from something important.”

—

Some of the proposals end up being better than expected, and after carefully sifting through them, your boss asks you to sit through presentations for the next few days. Your time gets consumed in graphs and budgets. There’s a multitude of businesses you have to look into, some big and well-known, and others small and local. You drive around the city one day, visiting business after business, until your ankles hurt in your heels and your cheeks hurt from all the smiling. Your only comfort is the nice Chanel skirt suit you’re wearing that makes you feel like the most important person in the room wherever you go.

By the time the week’s over, there’s a thin cut forming on the back of your ankles from all the walking you’ve done in your heels. You slump against your front door, tossing your heels in the vague direction of the closet before padding through your house.

You nearly scream yourself sore at the figure in your kitchen, hunched over what looks to be a hastily made cake with a number three candle. “Oh my god,” you seethe, turning the overhead light on to illuminate Jungkook’s grinning figure, dirty and sweaty from work. You glance at the clock on the stove; it’s only been about an hour since his garage closed.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, and you’re not the slightest bit amused when he begins humming the happy birthday song on a day that is definitely not your birthday.

When he’s done, you don’t clap and his beaming smile doesn’t waver. “It is not my birthday,” you calmly state, placing your leather padfolio on the counter.

Jungkook blows the candle out for you. “It’s the birthday of when we first met,” he explains, and gets to cutting the cake. How he remembers such a day, you don’t know. You do know that this is his mom’s birthday cake recipe, and you love that. “Can you believe it? Friends for almost three decades.”

“Almost,” you repeat, dutifully sitting across from him and taking the plate he offers. He nods at you like a bobblehead.

His eyes are sparkly and big, like he’s drunk, and it’s only then you notice the red wine on the table, bottle open and halfway done. You set your fork down, grasp the neck of the bottle in your hand. “Have you been drinking?” You ask, even though the answer stares you right in the face. You frown. “You hate drinking.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shovels more cake into his mouth to delay his response. “Needed it,” he offhandedly explains, nearly eats the candle but you jump forward to snatch it off his fork before he can.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. You’re not hungry anymore, too interested in whatever’s going on in his head to make him think he needs to be drunk around you.

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. “Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily.

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook.

Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with.

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke.

Neither of you laugh.

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak.

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got.

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case.

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car.

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight.

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him.

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father. “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing.

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance.

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering.

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #mine

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lydiablack-m · 2 years

Text

Ever Again |Baji x Reader|

Pairing: Baji Keisuke x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst. Heavy angst. Mentions of suicidal thoughts. Soul-crushing

Word count: 1168

A/N: this scene came to me when I was in a shower. I was crying so hard that the vessels on the eyelids burst. I just feel like if I won't post it, it will never leave me...

I'm sorry for everything I wrote here. I can’t even reread it, it’s killing me

English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes

PS: I was listening to As It Was by Hozier while writing this one, so, if you wanna deep dive in that and feel... something that I felt, I recommend you to listen to it while reading. bless you

"Hey Baji, it's been a while, right? I know I wasn't supposed to come for a week, but, hey! Do you remember what day it is today? Can you imagine, you are 20 today! Who would have thought these 5 years would fly by so quickly...

Oh! I nearly forgot! I brought you something.... here! Extra one! I made it out of the most beautiful beads I could find in the store. Each of them reminds me of you, look: this one is the same color as your T-shirt, on which I spilled soda when we walked at the summer festival. And this one is like your old bike that you taught me to ride... Remember, I fell off it into a ditch and broke my knees, and you comforted me and then we ate ice cream in the evening....

It's so beautiful... Right? Here, it's yours now..."

The girl stretched out her hand, which was holding the bracelet, as if someone in front of her had to take it, but there was only a cold gray gravestone in front of her. The girl's hand dropped weakly to the foot of the grave, where was a small tin lunch box. It was rusty in places, the colorful children's drawing on it has faded, the paint has peeled off. The girl carefully opened it. In a tin box lay multicolored bracelets made of small beads.

There were so many of them, they filled the box almost to the brim. Colorful, with beads of different sizes and shapes... Yellow, Blue, Green, Red… Every day she strung one bead on a string. Every day she dedicated this ritual to him, and after that, when she strung the thirty-first bead, she came here, and the new treasure was placed in a children's tin cache.

"Chifuyu will also come, he was late at work today. Do you remember I told you he got a part-time job at a pet store? You can be proud of him! He is such a wonderful employee, he is highly praised by his superiors and I think he is really happy at this job. He dreams of opening his own store someday, and I'm sure he will definitely succeed.

He has a real menagerie at home now! He brings wounded animals to him and takes care of them until they recover. You should have seen how funny he sticks out his tongue, concentrating on measuring the norm of food for fish or parrots by ounce!” The girl let out a weak laugh, her voice trailed off and she quietly lowered her eyes to her trembling hands. The tears that she was trying to hide behind the fake enthusiasm appeared in her eyes again, for a moment her lips twisted with a fit of grief, and she clenched her teeth, holding back a moan.

"You know... I think about you every day... Every day... And I... I'm so scared!" She bent over as if the air had been knocked out of her chest. Hugging herself with her arms, as if trying to hide from the world, trembling from quiet sobs.

"Everyone tells me that it's wrong, that I won't be able to live a normal life if I don't let you go. I know they're right, but I am... I just can't! If I stop thinking about you every day, if I accept that you are no more here, I will feel like the most terrible and disgusting traitor... How can I leave behind everything that connected us? You were my home, you were a part of me... Maybe you were my heart, because now when you're... dead… I feel like it's gone. Where was a heart beating fast with joy or dying with delight, now there is only emptiness. And it causes unbearable pain. I know it's selfish, I know you did everything for us.… But now how do we repay this debt that you left us? How do I repay this debt to you?

If I knew that you are now somewhere in another world, much more beautiful than this one, if I knew that you are happy now, I would be the happiest person on earth! I would have quietly lived the time allotted to me, I would have done everything so that when we meet again, you would be proud of me... but... What if you're still here? Maybe we stay where we are buried and lie all alone…

I'm sorry... Please forgive me for being such a rag! You taught me to be strong, to believe in myself... I believed that anything is possible when you were around... And now every month I come to you and cry about how weak I am. You must be disappointed? I probably tired you with my problems and stupid thoughts... Even if you're here right now, you'd prefer more fun company I guess... But... Every night I choke on tears that are no longer left. Every night I think that all this is just a stupid mistake. Some terrible point into which our galaxy collapsed in an instant, turned into a black hole. Why... Why did everything happen like this?.. We were just kids! Why did anyone have to die at all?! Why did Shinichiro die? Why did you die?.. Why?

Sometimes I think that the only way to solve this question for myself, to understand what really happened, is to take my own life. I know it's stupid! But... What if you look at it differently now? Maybe, after all, this stupid comedy called life is nothing more than an illusion? What if, in fact, all this does not matter and only after death do we understand it? Sorry... I know you'd be angry right now. You have always cared so much about us, you have sacrificed everything for us, and I talk so easily about how to avoid unnecessary difficulties and suffering by taking my own life... You were stronger than any of us, you were stronger than all of us put together... Who am I to doubt what you believed in?..

You know... I'm 5 years older now than we were then. I'm already officially an "adult"... so why do I feel like I'm still that 15-year-old girl? Why do I still feel like I'm younger than you? Why do I feel like time stopped for me that day? Why do I feel like my future died with you that day?

I just wanna... Please... please be here! Slap me in the face, yell at me, say that I'm a cry baby say that I can do better, tell me, that I'm stronger, than I think I am. Please... Be here... Please...

I know the skies are beautiful today, but I can't see the stars anymore. Every time I raise my eyes, I see only a dark spot, blurred by a veil of tears. I can't believe that you will never look at these stars next to me ever again...”

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jonesinghardy · 3 years

Text

SLIP OF THE TONGUE

PAIRINGS: Mat Barzal x Reader CONTENT: offseason, established relationship, day out at the beach / boardwalk, fluff (?), mentions of marriage WARNINGS: light PDA, kissing RATING: G WORD COUNT: 1.3k AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi this is my first Hockey fic, I’m very new to to hockeyblr. I saw a tiktok that inspired this. All my love to @rosesvioletshardy for getting me into hockey, she did more in like a month than Canadian culture (andm y dad) has been able to do in 24 years. She got the first peek at this fic while we suffered through the last playoff game :’) hope you enjoy! It’s very sweet.

Mat holds your hand firmly as you walk among the light crowd out along the boardwalk. There are small rides, game booths, food stands, street performers, and vendors selling their wares. Which is why Mat hasn’t let go since you left the restaurant where you’d had a light early dinner.

Someone had gotten a little too much sun and that someone is now wearing your peachy red bucket hat that you’d chosen to match your bike shorts for the outing, and coincidentally (or not) also matched his t-shirt. Mat’s cheeks and nose are red, and his shaggy offseason hair peeks out from the hat in beachy waves.

At the car, before dinner, when you’d put your towels and bags away, you kissed his cheek after pressing your lips to an icy cold water bottle, and swiped some aloe onto his face while he held another water bottle to his neck after gulping down half of it.

“I think you were overly ambitious with boogie-boarding, baby,” you’d teased him lightly, watching him smile, eyes closed as you finished tending to his ails. He’d pouted, but he was laughing as he leaned in to kiss you, humming happily if not a little defeatedly.

Now that he’s eaten he’s regained a little energy, and the offensive sun is close to setting, lighting the sky in tones of purple and orange and growing the shadows on the boardwalk. You’re in search of desert, and a little more entertainment before heading back home for the night.

Mat squeezes your hand as the crowd thins out and you look back at him with a reassuring smile, still tickled by how your outfits matched today. Your linen top is cream with a peachy yellow partial circle shape on the front that you think looks like the sun, but Mat said looks like a fried egg. Your sandals match the yellow, his white shorts complement your shirt and make his thighs look scrumptious. Your hat matched your leggings and his shirt, but you think it looks cuter on Mat.

“There’s a soft serve stand over there,” he says, raising a brow and pointing with his free hand. You look in the direction he’s pointed and find it, nod, and start heading over to it together.

There’s a family ahead of you when you arrive, giving you both enough time to pick something off the menu. Mat wraps his arm around your waist while you wait your turn. You decide quickly, a cone with raspberry drizzle, but he takes longer to decide after he sees options for both chocolate drizzle and chocolate dipped.

The mother ahead of you is talking very loudly to the clerk behind the counter, prattling more like, going on about… my husband this, my husband that, in such a snooty and somehow simultaneously resentful way that it makes you grimace. You can’t even tell what her problem is.

“I never wanna sound like that,” you say under your breath, rolling your eyes when Mat looks at you and snorts trying to stifle his laughter.

“God, me either,” he says, shaking his head and giving you a little squeeze. “I think I know what I want.” He looks around and nods at a bench. “I’ll order, you wait here?”

“Okay,” you say, scrunching up your nose when he gives you a quick peck and heads over to the counter with a little bounce in his step.

You laugh and take a seat, looking around at the nearby stands and booths. The family has moved on, their kids' faces covered in chocolate and ice cream, but looking as content as can be despite what a grouch their mother seems to be. They’re passing a booth full of charming stuffed animals.

There isn’t any fixed carnival game to try to win to get a toy, just a man selling toys. Mat is still waiting and paying for your ice cream, so you get up and take a few steps closer.

“Babe!” you call, and watch him turn toward you, hands in his pockets, brows raised curiously. You point over at the booth and he nods, understanding where you’re going.

The toys are even more charming up close, your gaze travelling over them thoughtfully. You squish one of the sample toys and discover them to be utterly pleasant to press your fingers into.

Just when you think you’re ready to choose, the grouchy mother calls the vendor from the other side of the bench. He looks at you apologetically and goes to help her, and you hear her again; my husband likes… my husband wants, what do you think is best for my husband…

It only takes a moment, and you try to tune out her gratingly irritating voice, but finally you get your turn. You offer the vendor a smile, pointing to two bear toys that kind of look like loaves of bread, one beige and one brown. He turns to retrieve them.

“The beige one for me, and the brown one for my husband,” you say, the word slipping off your tongue accidentally. Your cheeks flush. The vendor doesn’t know that Mat isn’t your husband, but your face feels hot and you let out a heavy, embarrassed breath, almost dizzy with the thought of it.

The vendor turns around and pauses, a skeptical look on his face. Your eyes widen and you turn around, meeting Mat’s stunned, shit-eating grin, holding your ice cream in his hands.

“Did you hear that, man!” Mat says, voice cracking excitedly. The vendor laughs. “She called me her husband!”

Now your cheeks are burning worse than his. But if anything can be compared to the sun, it’s his beaming smile.

“I heard it,” the vendor replies, shaking his head amusedly.

“Oh my god, you’ve gotta come to our wedding, man,” Mat says, handing you your ice cream and reaching a hand out to shake his hand.

You break into giggles. “Mat, please,” you plead, fishing out a few bills to pay the man for the toys. He shakes Mat’s hand laughing, and puts the bears into a paper bag for you.

He’s practically bouncing as you step away from the booth, another disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as he loops his free arm around your waist and starts guiding you to the railing to watch the sunset.

“It was a slip of the tongue—“ you say, embarrassed, amused, but he silences you with a kiss that quickly turns into a grin between you both.

“Say it again,” he says, pulling back a bit to look at you, still playful but utterly earnest.

“My husband?” you reply, tummy full of butterflies. Somehow he grins even bigger and chuckles quietly to himself.

“I like how that sounds,” he says, “A lot. About as much as I like the idea of you being my wife.”

It’s your turn to grin, and you bite your lip, cheeks aching from trying not to smile too hard.

“Just the idea?” You tease, and he laughs again.

“You’re gonna be my wife.” He’s so happy and so sure you have absolutely no doubts about how serious he is. “And it’ll be an honour to be your husband.”

“You’re gonna make me cry in my ice cream,” you complain, playfully, pouting, but can’t help but laugh again when he kisses you.

“You’re okay with that right?” He asks, uncertain for a second.

You nod. “Are you proposing?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I’m proposing that I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says, lifting his hand and stroking his thumb over your rosy cheek. “For now.”

“For now,” you agree, leaning up to kiss him again.

He holds your chin with his thumb and index. He tries to deepen it, and you indulge him for just a few seconds before you giggle.

“Save that for later, our ice cream is gonna melt all over us!”

He groans playfully. “Ice-cream? What ice-cream?” He kisses your cheek and steps back.

Mat lifts his slightly melted, chocolate dipped and sprinkle-topped cone to his lips and winks.

#mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #my fic.

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haik-choo · 4 years

Text

karasuno first years out late w/ their s/o

request: Could you write how 1st years (yachi too pls🥺) going out with their s/o late at night ?

a/n: this is such a cute little concept i --

[KARASUNO FIRST YEARS OUT LATE AT NIGHT WITH THEIR S/O]

-tsukishima, kageyama, yamaguchi, hinata, yachi

tsukishima kei.

not gonna lie, he’s often awake late at night. he’s a night owl and doesn’t mind sacrificing his sleep to watch some youtube videos

occasionally, he even goes out late at night, slipping past his parents and brother’s room and softly closing the front door with his headphones covering his ears and his hands stuffed in his pockets

so when you text him at 3am and ask if he can go out with you to the convenience store, he agrees in seconds to meet you at the halfway point between your houses

wastes no time in putting on his sneakers and a hoodie; he wants to get there quickly so that you aren’t left out by yourself

tsukishima knows there’s creeps out there, which is exactly why he jogs to the halfway point and is relieved when he’s the first one there

as soon as he sees you in the distance he fast walks to catch up to you, and slips his hand into yours

he totally brings bluetooth earbuds so that you two can listen to the same music instead of his wired headphones <3 uwu

is always on the lookout for any weirdos, and if he spots someone eyeing you up he shoots them the nastiest glare

eventually wraps his arms around your shoulder while your hand is sitll in his and its that cute little thing where your arms is across your chest holding his hand </3

pays for whatever you get at the store, ignores your complaints and tells you to shut up when you continue to insist on paying

“im trying to be a good boyfriend for once, for the love of god PLEASE shut up”

secretly takes a candid photo of you at some point in the night and sets it as his home screen -- NOT his lock screen, and when you see it he outright denies having taken it

tsukishima: you told me to take a picture of you

you: stop lying i know you’re a closet hopeless romantic

convinces you to stop at the park and eat the snacks you both got there, music still humming in your ears as the moonlight washes you both in cool tones

tsukishima when he’s alone with you is so soft -- he literally kisses your hand and temple and mutters very softly “love you”

all in all, tsukishima kei is the perfect night-owl boyfriend to go on snack-runs with

kageyama tobio.

"why would i go out right now. do you know what time it is. i have practice in the morning”

kags really out here kinda hurtin’ your feelin’s ngl boy doesn’t understand the vibes LOL

honestly you probably woke him up, he’s asleep at like ten every night (even tho he still has homework to do he just flat-out ignores it LOL)

only agrees to go out walking with you because you said he could bring his volleyball and you’d toss a few for him....and also because he’s a little worried because it’s so dark out

doesn’t walk with you to the park but meets you there LOL

he deadass has his wholeass duffel bad with the ball, two waterbottles, two towelettes, volleyball sneakers and everything

“you know,,,,we’re not playing a game, right, tobio?”

“yeah???? and??? what’s your point”

acts nonchalant but is totally having fun and is lowkey glad you asked him to go out so late because it’s cool out, there’s no one to bother him, and you just look...really good under the stars

he’s not a cheesy person but...god you just take his breath away sometimes. not that he’ll ever say that though

you ask to take a break like thirty minutes in because you are LITERALLY dying meanwhile he hasn’t even broken a sweat (”you’re already tired? maybe you should workout more” “shut UP kageyama”)

you both sit on the bench, and you’re lowkey waiting for him to reach for your hand but they’re just folded in his lap as he stares out in the nothingness of night

kageyama can’t take a hint. we know this. he’s incapable of knowing what you want unless you flat out tell him; so you have to be a very honest person

he doesn’t even really initiate skinship, not because he doesn’t want to, but just because it never really crosses his mind

plus he doesn’t feel the need to constantly show affection because he thinks it’s obvious that he likes you

despite this, he is good at spotting weird people, and he’s pretty protective of you, so you’re completely safe with him. trust him, he’ll keep you safe

all in all, have patience and stamina because kags will play volleyball with you until you pass out. also, he loves you

yamaguchi tadashi.

is in bed by 11pm but doesn’t actually go to sleep until two am because he’s scrolling through tiktok on his phone

sees your text about wanting to go out for a late night walk and maybe go through the little forest near your house and automatically sends a text that says “ill meet you at your window! can you pack some snacks? :)”

he walks all the way to your house, even if it’s more convenient to meet halfway because he wants to protect you! he’s not the strongest nor is he the most intimidating, so all he really has to offer is his presence

despite not being strong nor scary, yams literally has eagle eye. you can’t tell me that he can’t read people in a heartbeat -- he’s extremely perceptive

also texts you to not bring a jacket because he’s bringing on of his own for you !!! so sweet what the hell

he waits at your front door and when you step out he automatically pushes his volleyball jacket into your hands and he takes the bag of snacks from you and sticks out one of his hands UGH such a gentleman

lets you ramble about anything and stares at your side profile as he listens

joins in with a few quips here and there but ultimately is pretty quite and lets you speak or lets the silence cozy into the conversation

sees that there’s a guy sitting on a bench up the road and he switches places with you so that you’re further away from the stranger

also wraps a protective hand around your waist until you both are past the random dude but yams will glance behind yall every once in a while

when you two reach the mini forest he ends up taking the lead claiming that he knows a good spot

and damn, he’s right

it’s a little clearing that is illuminated solely by the moonlight and he sets the bag of snacks down beside him before sitting down himself, apologizing for not bringing a blanket that you two could sit on

pats the spot next to him so that you sit right beside him and he leans back with his hand on yours ONGMIRG

is the super cheesy type and tells you that you look really pretty and that,,,he kind of wants to kiss you

you: *experiencing heart palpitations* and you did this for what.

yamaguchi: ...because i love you?

you: *K.O*

all in all, yamaguchi is the boyfriend that completely indulges your late-night escapades <3

hinata shoyo.

is either completely fast asleep and doesn’t see your text or was awake and not planning to sleep for the next five hours, no in-between

but if he’s awake and sees your text, he agrees right away and asks where you want to meet up and what time because homeboy probably has to bike to get there AgAGAGAGA

literally doesn’t even show up in sneakers. he’s wearing sandals and shorts with a short sleeve top

“i came in my pjs”

“i see that.”

asks if you two can bike around instead because he doesn’t want to have to wheel his bike around for like an hour

he tells you to hold on tight because the bike was built for one person, and when you press against his back his warmth is literally so,,,comforting

has no sense of awareness and will scream going down a hill in the middle of a neighborhood, no fucks given

so, no, he doesn’t notice any weriod people even if there are some around

you always end up running into some weird people and you get new interesting stories every other day because let’s be honest hinata is a magnet for crazy shit and crazy people (usually crackheads)

you both just ride around as he talks about his day, usually his sister always comes up in the conversation( “she asked me to marry you the other day” “doirhgAEROIHFGRE SHOYO WHAT” “what? i told her i would. i keep my promises!”)

after like thirty minutes he begs for a break and you stop at a little 24/7 ice cream store that is run by the sweetest elderly couple

you share a sundae because you don’t want to eat too much this late at night

he plops on the bench right outside the store with his bike leaning against the metal handles, and h snuggles up to you and watches you scroll on your phone

he talks a little here and there, but for the most part, he goes quiet, and it’s during this time where you’re unaware of his gaze that he just takes his time drinking in your features in the yellow light of the lamppost

he can’t read the mood most times, but this time he does, and he stays quiet, and he thinks to himself

that he really will marry you one day

all in all, hinata gives you the impulsive young teenage experience of late night bike rides while eating his fair share of ice cream

yachi hitoka.

another either or, except this time she’s either fast asleep or stressing over homework and the nine tests she has the next day

when you ask if she can go on a walk with you she’s hesitant because she doesn’t want to get in trouble with her mom and she’s a total goody goody and terrified of doing anything reckless; but then she remembers that her mom was on a business trip and so she, very cautiously, says yes

you: good. i’m outside your door btw

yachi: i never had a choice did i

you have to meet her at her house because she’s way too scared to walk by herself at night; she might even make you factime her as you commute because she’s worried for you

jumps at every little thing, even the crows cawing make her shit herself

instictively grabs onto your sleeve and nervously look around the entire time, to the point where she doesn’t hear what you say

so you offer to go to a little cafe that’s still open and right away she nods

she’s so adorable, she bows really deeply when you two walk into the store and apologizes for it being so late

and finally, because you two are safe, she’s calm and smiling as she sips at her strawberry smoothie

awkwardly and very shyly reaches out for your hand on the table and gently lays her palm on yours

canon: yachi totally has freckles and you can’t convince me otherwise

her face is red and her freckles are just on display you can’t help but coo at her and tuck some hair behind her ear because god could she get any cuter?

you two end up staying for like a hour and a half and very shyly she asks if you could walk her home

and this time on the walk she’s not overly cautious and seems to enjoy the nighttime breeze and your hand softly clasping hers

does that cute thing where she lays her head on your shoulder or arm while you both are walking and looks up at you through her eyelashes and asks if you could give her a kiss on the cheek </3

you: stop. please. im going to die.

when you’re at her door she literally just stands there awkwardly for a few seconds before tilting her head upwards and pressing her lips to yours and then promptly running inside

video calls you three seconds afterwards to make sure you get home safely

all in all, you might need to be the impulsive one, but yachi enjoys spending late night time with you more than she admits. also please kiss her thanks

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littleredwing89 · 3 years

Text

AGENT OF CHAOS - PART THREE

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

Warnings – Language. Kidnapping. Stalking. Mild Violence. Angst. Hurt.

Word Count: 4,870

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone, sorry for the little delay, I was working on a few of the actions scenes to ensure they were good. I really hope you all like this xoxo

~~~

It had been almost a month. Every lead turned into a dead end. Nothing. Much like the Joker himself, no one knew a thing. The whole thing was tearing Jason apart. He’d barely slept. He’d maybe had 3 hours per night. If that, and he was convinced the only reason he got sleep was because Bruce had slipped him something in his coffee.

The fourth cassette tape came with a dead yellow rose and a rotten apple. He pushed play on the recorder and swallowed thickly as the grainy camera zoomed in on your face. You looked pale. Your cheeks looked hollow and your once colourful eyes looked gaunt. Haunted.

“Well Jason, I’m a man of my word...I’ve been looking after her so good”, Joker laughed hysterically and smoothed his hand down your cheek, smacking it lightly. The slap caused you to jolt in the chair. A sharp gasp flew out of your chapped lips.

Jason felt Bruce’s hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. The notion sent a brief wave of calm through Jason. Maybe this was how Bruce felt all those years ago...when he received similar tape of ..of himself. Jason turned back to the screen and focused his eyes. Searching for a clue. Anything. Something to bring you back to him.

“She’s been such a good little princess bird boy...she’s done everything I asked...and more”, Joker whistled happily as he tapped your nose with a wicked smile. Jason felt his heart stop and looked directly into your eyes through the screen. Good he wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go.

The tape skipped and replayed the same thing back, “...and more”. It skipped again, “...and more”. Jason growled and the tape paused before going completely black.

His fist smashed into the computer keyboard, pieces of black plastic scattering across the desk. Jason released a loud sobbing noise and sank to the cold stone floor of the bat cave. His eyes scrunched shut tightly, imagining you were in front of him. Giving him that silly smile you always did when you first woke up. It was one of his favourite smiles. You had hundreds of different types of smiles. The one you gave him when he hugged you randomly. The one you’d give him when he told you a stupid joke. The one you’d show him when you were both standing down one of the grocery aisles for no reason at all.

“Jason...son - we will find her - I promise you”, Bruce’s deep voice shattered Jason’s illusion of you in his mind.

“It’s been so long...what if-”, Jason ran a hand over his face. The stubble was longer, causing him to itch.

“Don’t”, Bruce warned, “don’t think like that. We will find her”.

~~~

The last cassette tape Jason received was covered in a dark, red sticky substance. Jason knew what it was but he didn’t know if it was yours. Before Jason could even think about playing it, Bruce had prized it from his fingers.

“Jason we need to analyse the blood, it might give us a clue”, his voice was stable and deep. He attempted to reassure Jason with a firm grip to the shoulder but it did nothing. Jason felt empty without you.

“We need to watch-”, Jason started but was interrupted by Bruce.

“No, I’ll watch it. You need to get some sleep, let me do this Jason. Please”, Bruce pleaded desperately, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours”.

Jason laughed but it was hollow and sharp, “You really think I can sleep knowing she’s stuck with that fucking psycho?!”.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Jason I know you want to get Y/N back”, he placed the cassette onto a high tech scanning machine, it bleeped repeatedly as it scanned over the material, “But we all need to be working together and that means recharging our batteries”.

Jason scoffed and pushed past Bruce looking over the computer scanner typing something into the system, “So you’re telling me you went and had an eight hour sleep when Joker caught me?”.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “Jason”.

“JUST STOP!!”, Jason's voice cracked as he shouted and for a moment, he sounded like the broken man in the abandoned shopping mall that long Halloween night many years ago.

“I-I need to do this Bruce. I-I have to, for Y/N”, his voice was scratchy and raw.

Bruce simply nodded and turned around. He extracted the cassette from the blood stained cloth and pushed it into the player to the right. Bruce took a secondary glance to Jason, giving him one last option but Jason just stared at the screen, waiting to see what the tape would show.

The second the tape played, the batcave was filled with your screams. They sounded broken and dry. Jason’s heart shattered. The shards stabbing him painfully. As you came into view on the camera, your long h/c hair was matted and stuck to your face. Blood staining it a deep red.

The Joker came into the view of the camera and smiled wide, his teeth showing.

“Jason, I see why you’re so attached to this woman, she’s very fiery...her spirit is impenetrable”.

A flicker of evil flew through his eyes at that word and a sick smile slid onto his lips, “but that’s fine. I’m sure I can find more penetrable spots”.

You tug harshly at your binds as he turned and came closer to you, a small blade held in his gloves hand.

“Hold still princess or I might accidentally cut an important part of you...or slit something”.

The blade cut the straps of your top, and the material fluttered down uselessly to the floor, exposing your padded black bra. The Joker whistled appreciatively and winked back at the camera.

“I say Jason...maybe I’m missing out not having a significant other...especially when they’re as beautiful as this”.

Jason had edged so close to the screen Bruce had to pull him back. Tears were running hotly down his cheeks and he swore he tasted blood from biting down on his bottom lip.

Your voice echoed through the empty warehouse room and through the camera speakers, “GO FUCK YOURSELF”.

The Joker smirked down at you and the blade was pressed against the skin of your neck.

“You should watch your manners, princesses don’t speak like that”.

You gulped and looked into his soulless eyes and laughed. It almost sounded as maniacal as his.

“I’m not your fucking princess”.

You spat at his face. Your spit mingled with blood from the earlier smack around the face.

“He’ll come for me...I know he will. And when he does, it’ll be all over for you”.

Something snapped and you saw his eyes darken. His face twisted and the scowl was demonic.

“You filthy fucking bitch!”, he roared and dropped the knife to wipe his face.

Joker turned to the camera and glowered, “I hope you’re watching Jason whilst I teach this rotten little whore some manners!”.

The first blow caused you to cry out in agony. It was harsh and fast. The sound to Jason was ear splitting. The second hit was drawn out and heavy. Designed to bruise. The third was sharp and felt like hundreds of tiny needles piercing your skin. The Joker was laughing wildly all the way through it. Never ceasing his treatment. As he swung his arm back for the fourth hit, the camera jarred and caught a window. Streams of light shone through. Jason could just about make out a sign. It was blurry.

“REWIND AND PAUSE IT BRUCE! There!!!”, he called and waited for Bruce to zoom in.

“Can you clear up that image...that looks like a road sign...”.

Bruce skipped the tape back several seconds, muting the sounds on the screen. The sounds of you getting smacked in the face shaking him to his core.

“THERE!!! LOOK!! Can you see?!”, Jason pressed his face as close as possible to the screen as Bruce paused it, the image flickered but the road sign was obvious.

ACE CHEMICALS.

Before Bruce could even react, Jason had launched himself across the cave, guns strapped to his thighs.

“Jason!”.

Jason ignored Bruce and grabbed his helmet, securing it into place whilst dropping extra magazine clips into his inner jacket pockets.

“Jason, we can’t just go in there all guns blazing. That’s what he’ll want! We have to think about this”, Bruce reasoned and moved into his path.

Huffing in annoyance, Jason’s modulator covered it easily, “I’m going to get her whether you come with me or not”.

Bruce looked stunned for a split second before softening his voice, “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you - they’re clouding your judgment Jason”.

He knew he was right, deep down. But the pressure. The torture you must have endured. Everything. It weighed down on Jason and began to suffocate him slowly. The more time he wasted, the worse it was going to be. He couldn’t do it.

“Let me get into my suit and we’ll tackle this together”.

Nodding briefly, Jason watched Bruce make his way across to the darkened corner of the cave where his suit was behind a glass panel. As Bruce pressed his palm into the wall, the biometric scanner bleeped. The case slid open slowly and Bruce began to take out the suit piece by piece. The batarangs refracted the light they caught from the computer screens.

Fuck. It was taking too long, these precious seconds. He could be half way there by now. His bike was too far away, in the garage at the front of the manor. He side eyed the batmobile and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck it”.

Taking the keys from the secret sliding panel on the desk, Jason leapt into the batmobile before starting the engine and speeding out of the cave. He swore he heard Bruce shouting, he was certain he heard several curse words too. Unlike Bruce. But it was taking too long. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t leave you. You needed him. You couldn’t wait any longer.

~~~

Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

“Come on...come on!!”, Jason cursed to himself, hitting the steering wheel in fury. All the money Bruce had and it wouldn’t go any faster? He took a sharp turn heading towards the abandoned warehouse behind ACE Chemicals. He was so close. So much closer to reaching you. He’d deal with Bruce later. He couldn’t have waited any longer. Bruce would just have to get over him ‘borrowing’ the batmobile.

Swerving another corner and narrowly dodging the underpass columns, he pulled up in front of the derelict building. Almost all of the windows were smashed and hued green with mould. Maybe some of the toxins spewed from the factory had helped taint the glass further.

Grabbing both of his pistols, Jason left the car and headed towards the building fire escape. He could hear voices chattering.

“Joker said to keep an eye out for Batman”.

A goon; Jason noted peering around the brick wall spotting two of them. He noticed the metal railings above them creaking slightly in the strong winds.

“It’s been over a month now and there’s been no sign of any of the Bat freaks, it’s fine, let’s go grab a beer. He won’t even notice”, a second one encouraged the other smirking.

“You really want to cross him? He’s fucking nuts. I’m surprised the girl has even lasted this long with him, you know what he’s like”.

Jason’s fist tightened around one of his guns at the mention of you. It had to be you. Silently firing his grapple gun, he flew up the side of the building and made his way towards the goons.

“Trust me”, the first one spoke again, “He won’t even realise we’re gone, plus we might find some chicks to-”.

Perching on the railings above them, Jason leapt down cracking the base of his pistols onto one of their heads.

“Pleasure to meet you both”, Jason kicked out at the second goon hearing the sick crack of his ankle snapping.

Spinning on his heel, Jason grabbed the other goon and threw him face first into the brick wall knocking him unconscious immediately before turning back to the other man on the floor whimpering in pain.

“Where is she?”, Jason’s voice was strained even with the modulator protecting him.

The man refused to answer, dragging himself away from Jason with his hands, mud covering his palms.

Taking a large step, Jason reached the man on the floor and purposely stood onto his swollen ankle before aiming the cocked pistol towards his skull.

“I won’t ask again, where is she?”.

The screech from the man was deafening as Jason applied a hefty amount of pressure to his fractured bone.

“Basement!! She’s in the basement!! Please!!”, he begged as his eyes flickered nervously to the gun.

Jason rolled his shoulders before smashing the hilt of his pistol into his skull knocking him out cold. He turned back towards the fire escape and grappled back up to the roof. He’d have to make his way through the building to get to the basement. To you. And if he knew Joker, he wouldn’t have made it that easy. The two idiots on the front door were a sick joke. Tormenting Jason. Getting you back wouldn’t be an easy task.

~~~

Silently dropping through the window on top of the building, Jason landed onto one of the rusty steel girders. It was dark but his helmet adjusted the night vision so he could see clearly. Several goons patrolling an old foreman’s office in the centre. You had to be in there. He needed to take these idiots out quietly before getting to you.

Swinging across to the next rafter, Jason looked down at the first unsuspecting moron. With the stealth of a panther, he landed silently behind the goon before wrapping his arm around his meaty neck. He struggled against the iron grip of Jason’s forearm but the pressure only intensified the more he thrashed. Eventually the squirming stopped and the goon fell limp in his arms. Jason dragged him across to a darkened corner and dumped him behind some barrels.

As he grappled back up to roof beams, he looked down across at the two henchmen digging out a packet of cigarettes. The idiots had left their guns resting against the far wall. Jason had to chuckle to himself, Joker really was hiring morons. Weren’t these guys supposed to be protection?

Jason creeped across the rafters towards the two men and grabbed both of his pistols. He had to be silent. He couldn’t alert Joker to his presence.

“This is my last smoke”, one complained bitterly as the cigarette perched between his thin lips.

“I’ll get the next packet, quit your whining”, the second growled and patted his jacket for a lighter, “Fuck, where did I put my lighter?”.

“You’re a fucking moron. You asked to come for a smoke and you don’t even have a light!!”.

Now was his chance. Jason landed between them both, his boots thudding as he hit the concrete floor, “You know, smoking is bad for your health”. Before either of the goons could react, Jason lifted his elbow into the larger man's throat before smashing his pistol into the other man's temple, causing him to drop onto his knees. He slipped his guns back into his holsters quickly before turning to the other goon. He dodged the larger man’s grapple before twisting with ease and kicking out his kneecap. The man gasped but the elbow to his throat had killed off his voice.

Jason threw a heavy right hook into the larger man's nose and watched the blood trickle down his face. This seemed to only infuriate him more and he launched himself towards Jason viciously. Gripping both of his arms, Jason flipped the man over his body and slammed him into the floor hard before hammering punch after punch to his face, knocking him unconscious.

He turned quickly to the other man who was scrambling on his knees for the gun resting against the far wall.

“Sorry bud, but that can’t happen”, Jason grunted and landed a heavy kick to the goons stomach. The man yelped but it was quickly cut off by Jason as he slammed his boot into his face. He dropped onto the floor instantly.

Jason panted heavily and looked around the room, his helmet advising him of one more goon loitering around the door of the office. Looking down at the floor he noticed the floor grates wrapped around the room and more importantly under the henchmen’s feet. Perfect.

He lifted one of the grate coverings quietly and slipped under the flooring. He crouched down and edged around the room. The last goon was much larger and bulkier, with a machine gun strapped around his wide chest.

This goon seemed smarter than the others. Looking around and even checking up in the rafters. He grunted and pressed a button on his jacket, “No boss, still no sign of them...nothing Sir”.

The voice that patched through sent a chill down Jason’s spine. It was a tone that would be forever cemented in his mind, a reminder of his own torment.

“If you get ANY inclination the bat or any of his costumed freaks are in the building, you tell me immediately”.

“Yes boss”.

The static of the radio crackled before cutting off completely. Jason cursed mentally. This had to be precise. Perfection. He had to disable the henchman’s radio unit. Padding over his jacket he searched for the disrupter shooter he had. It wasn’t there. Fuck. He’d fucked up in his rush and left it behind. Fuck. Bruce was right. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Then he heard it. A soft ping from above him. He knew that sound. Jason looked up from the grate and spotted Nightwing hidden in the shadows with his own disrupter. Pointed directly at the goon’s radio system.

“Thought you might need a hand”, Dick patched into Jason’s com line.

Jason growled under his breath, “Thanks”.

“Shall we take this moron out together?”.

“Yes”, Jason muttered before switching his com off and inched closer to the goon.

The second Nightwing flew down from the roof beams, Jason jumped out of the floor grate and kicked out the back of the goons knees. He cursed loudly before Nightwing’s foot landed in his face.

Jason swore he saw a tooth fly out of his mouth along with a glob of blood. He aimed several hard punches to the side of the henchman’s head whilst Nightwing disabled his gun and radio with a graceful poise.

“All this for the girl? She’s nothing but a shell”, the goon smirked across at Jason before choking at the next punch.

“Joker’s hollowed her out...she’s nothing”, he spat out.

His temper flared and his hand subconsciously reached for his pistol. Dick realised and before anything could happen, he landed an electrical ecrisma blow to the goons head, knocking him out cold. His body crashed onto the floor with a loud thump.

“Jason-”.

“Don’t”, Jason cut him off, “I’m fine”.

He took several steps towards the office door and swallowed thickly. You. You’d be in there. You’d told Joker with the last ounce of confidence left that he’d come for you. He’d never leave you. You were right. Jason would never have stopped looking. Ever.

His hand rested on the door handle, trembling only slightly. What if he was too late. What if this was just another trick?

Drawing his hand back almost as though the door had burnt him. He frowned. He couldn’t think like this. No. He had to be strong. Just like you had been in all those videos. You’d been fierce. Your spirit still pouring through to him.

Jason glared angrily at the door and took a step back before kicking it open furiously with his combat boot. The door flew open wildly and as the dust settled. He saw Joker stood in the middle of the room, a sick, satisfied smirk sat proudly on his demented face.

~~~

“Jason my boy! It’s a pleasure to see you again”, his chuckle was deep and sinister, “I see you're still hiding your face though...is that because of what I did?”. The Joker’s eyes danced with delirious joy at the memories.

“I’d have thought you’d have embraced all your scars by now Jason...”, The Joker edged forward leaving you tied up behind him.

Jason rounded The Joker, clicking a button to the side of his mask, revealing his face, his eyes hidden with the domino mask, “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, clown”.

Jason let his eyes run over you for a second. You were bruised and bloodied. Clothes torn and tattered from mistreatment. Your eyes. God. Your beautiful E/C eyes. Red raw from countless tears. Somehow you still managed to give him a smile from behind The Joker. His heart fluttered. God he’d missed your smile.

Tearing his eyes from you he looked back towards The Joker and held his pistols out at him, finger hovering over the trigger. Jason felt the burn mark on his cheek stinging all over again. Pain ever present.

“You don’t have the guts”, The Joker laughed again and walked forward pressing his forehead into the barrel of the gun.

“You wouldn’t dare pull that trigger. I’m your Ace card Jason. You can’t kill me. You want to but you can’t...something will always stop you”.

Jason felt his hand shaking slightly. Everything was throbbing in his mind.

“Even after everything I’ve done to your girl, you still can’t pull that trigger”, The Joker taunted further and grinned sadistically.

“If only you knew where I’d touched...what I’ve done...”, he pushed further into the cold metal of the gun and winked at Jason, “Go on, do it, I dare you...if you don’t- I’m just going to keep coming back and who knows what I’ll do to our little princess next-”.

BANG.

A gun shot blasted through the air. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel, dancing into the darkness around them.

“JASON!”.

Nightwing had thrown one of his ecrisma sticks to Jason’s gun, knocking it off target. The bullet shattered the brickwork behind them, dust erupting.

Crashing down through one of the broken windows on top of the office roof, Nightwing flew towards The Joker tackling him down onto the damp, concrete floor before he could launch himself at Jason.

Still startled, Jason watched Dick wrestling with The Joker on the floor, punches flying back and forth.

Dick turned to Jason, “Y/N-Jason!! Go get Y/N!! I’ll handle this!”.

The Joker was shrieking with laughter underneath Dick, blood pouring down his lip and from his nose.

“Ahhhh another boy blunder!! I must be lucky!! Two for the price of one!”.

Dick threw another punch and reached for the second ecrisma stick on his back, “I can’t wait to cart you back to the Asylum. I hope you’re looking forward to your 5 star stay in a windowless cesspit!”.

Jason could hear Joker continually laughing at Dick, until the sharp sound of electrical buzzing cut him off with a loud scream.

He almost fell over his own feet as he raced towards you. Jason quickly untied your hands and the second they were free you flung them around his neck, sobbing into his neck. Your tears dropping onto his brown leather jacket.

“Oh baby”, Jason stroked your hair and held you tightly to him. He was worried he was crushing you but you seemed to be squeezing him back just as hard.

You didn’t stop sobbing. The overwhelming emotion of being wrapped in his safe, strong arms make your knees buckle. Jason caught you with ease and lifted you up, “It’s ok baby, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”.

Jason was one step away from breaking down himself but he needed to be strong for you right now.

You pressed your skin against his, the scratch of his stubble a welcome sting against your cheek. His scent overwhelmed you. Leather. Gunpowder. Smoke. And something distinct you’d never been able to place.

“Jason”.

“Shhh, it’s ok - nothing is going to hurt you, I’m here now - I’m a bit late but I’m here”.

~~~

It had been one week since you’d been back home. Two weeks if you counted the first week you and Jason spent holed up in the manor. Bruce had insisted. You sat in the bathtub, knees pressed up against your bare chest. Silence. All you could hear was the faint crackle of the bubbles every now and again. The clinical white tiles of the bathroom made you feel a little cleaner.

However, no matter how many baths you took, showers you stood in, you still couldn’t wipe the feel of the slick purple gloves off your skin. Your skin. Skin that was now marred with yellowish bruising. Almost faded physically but not mentally. Looking over the marks you felt yourself transported back into the desolate warehouse. The dank smell of stagnant water filling your nostrils. You choked and coughed loudly, suddenly feeling the oxygen clam up your throat. Drowning in the memories.

“Y/N??”.

Within a mere second Jason had flung open the bathroom door, red tinting his cheek and a little sweat on his forehead, “Sweetheart are you ok?”.

You noted how he chose to call you sweetheart now and not his usual princess. A stark reminder that this whole ordeal had affected him too, more than he’d admitted. You felt the guilt eat away at you. Shame burning at your feet.

“Y-yeah, I’m ok”, you mumbled quietly and swirled some of the water and bubbles around you, “I just accidentally swallowed some of the bath water, I’m sorry”.

Jason nodded although not quite believing you. He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the tub taking a deep breath, “It’s ok to not be ok sweetheart...I know it can be difficult to admit that...I know that more than most”, he wiped a stray bubble from the rim of the tub. He looked at you deeply before continuing, “I’ll be here for you...whenever and whatever you need”.

You sat silently in the water and he moved to get up. Maybe he thought it was best to leave you alone, let you uncover your own emotions. Process what had happened. You gripped his wrist and looked up into the crystal blue of his eyes, “Jason”.

“Yeah babe?”, he turned his wrist in your hand and linked his fingers with yours.

“I love you”.

He smiled and squeezed your hand before whispering back, “I love you too, more than you know”.

He looked over you and moved to sit back on the edge of the bath. His spare hand reached out and cupped your chin lovingly, stroking over your skin.

“We’ll work through this together Y/N, I promise”, Jason murmured and leaned forward kissing your forehead lightly, “I’ll do whatever you need me to do...anything at all”.

The words, the touches, the kiss. It made your heart flutter and you fell even more in love with him. Jason made the impossible possible and you had no idea how he managed it every day. You felt so lucky.

“I - I struggle some d-days”, you admitted and with those words you felt a little lighter, “sometimes all I want is for you to hold me and not let me go...Sometimes I-I f-feel like that for hours...”.

“Well then I’ll hold you for hours”, he said simply.

You scoffed lightly but before you could protest or think of arguing back he was stepping into the bath water fully clothed.

“Jay!! You’re going to flood the bathroom”, you gasped loudly, watching the water splash over the sides like dramatic tidal waves. Water dispersed all over the bathroom floor to make way for his broad frame, “What are you doing?!”.

Jason sunk down into the water behind you and wrapped his arms either side, pulling you back into his clothed chest. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there, “Holding you for as long as you need me to”.

You felt yourself melt into his warm embrace. Tears made their way down your cheeks at his endearing show of love, “Jason”.

“Shhh, just let me hold you baby”, he cuddled you tighter into him, his fingers stroking your hips under the water, brushing away the bruises. Marking you with his own special touch.

Relaxing under his soft caresses, you hummed lightly and closed your eyes resting your head back against him. He smelt like leather and spice. You felt at home. He was home.

“Jay”.

“Mmm?”.

“Please call me princess”, you whispered quietly into the air, your eyes still closed.

“Whatever you want...princess”.

~~~

Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella - thank you both for proof reading this and all the help you have given me - mwah mwah. xoxo

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~~~

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