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#staff meeting grumbling
lordgodjehovahsway · 4 months
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Numbers 17: God Tells Moses To Collect All Twelve Tribe Leaders' Staffs
1 The Lord said to Moses, 
2 “Speak to the Israelites and get twelve staffs from them, one from the leader of each of their ancestral tribes. Write the name of each man on his staff. 
3 On the staff of Levi write Aaron’s name, for there must be one staff for the head of each ancestral tribe. 
4 Place them in the tent of meeting in front of the ark of the covenant law, where I meet with you. 
5 The staff belonging to the man I choose will sprout, and I will rid myself of this constant grumbling against you by the Israelites.”
6 So Moses spoke to the Israelites, and their leaders gave him twelve staffs, one for the leader of each of their ancestral tribes, and Aaron’s staff was among them. 
7 Moses placed the staffs before the Lord in the tent of the covenant law.
8 The next day Moses entered the tent and saw that Aaron’s staff, which represented the tribe of Levi, had not only sprouted but had budded, blossomed and produced almonds. 
9 Then Moses brought out all the staffs from the Lord’s presence to all the Israelites. They looked at them, and each of the leaders took his own staff.
10 The Lord said to Moses, “Put back Aaron’s staff in front of the ark of the covenant law, to be kept as a sign to the rebellious. This will put an end to their grumbling against me, so that they will not die.” 
11 Moses did just as the Lord commanded him.
12 The Israelites said to Moses, “We will die! We are lost, we are all lost! 
13 Anyone who even comes near the tabernacle of the Lord will die. Are we all going to die?”
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azullumi · 1 month
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a scripture on having a certain pretty gambler as your boyfriend ; aventurine
summary — radiant and gleaming, dating him feels like basking under the golden glow of the sun, with the promise of the serene and starlit night ahead.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship, fluff, him as your boyfriend basically, there are no spoilers dwww, i never proofread, 1.2k words ; headcanons
note — congratulations to honkai star rail for being the only game to have aventurine!! this is day 2 of writing for this man until i have him.
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Aventurine couldn’t abandon the person that he used to be so he carried him in his hands. Always hesitant, afraid, and seemingly detached from everyone he meets—this is why he seems so distant and disconnected from you at first despite being in a relationship with him. Although he lives his whole life gambling, believing that everything happens and the outcomes gained are due to luck, he’s meticulously careful and cautious just to not get too attached to you lest he gets hurt in the end (he has dealt with the sight of people’s backs as they walk away from him multiple times).
It will take time for him to completely warm up and be vulnerable to you. Although there are moments that he lets the facade slip and he lays himself bare, moments where it’s just you and him in the silence, moments where you comfort him after a nightmare that disturbs his sleep; he doesn’t ask for comfort nor assurance often but you always seem to know when he needs it.
Aventurine loves it whenever you gently comb your hand through his hair. Even if he wasn’t vocal about the matter, you’ll know from the way he immediately relaxes under your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks. It just gives him a sense of comfort, finding serenity and affection in such a small act of intimacy; it reminds him of how simple everything could be (oh, how he wishes it was) with just the loving touch of your hands.
He’s not exactly a morning person but would always wake up early, occasionally before you do. It’s either because he has to leave for work early or it just so happens that he woke up just as the sun was rising. If he has to get ready soon, he’ll take a few minutes of his time to admire you as you sleep, to trace the bridge of your nose slowly and carefully so as to not wake you, to draw and follow the outlines of your features with his eyes. But if he has no plans for today, he’ll stay in bed with you and eventually, fall asleep once more. He holds you so close and so tight (but not tight enough to suffocate you) that it’s hard to slip away from his grasp.
You feel a pair of soft lips on your forehead, the kiss lingering for a moment until you flutter your eyes open. “Are you awake now, sleepy?” 
“Mmh…” You grumble, your vision adjusts to your surroundings as you blink multiple times. You could see Aventurine getting dressed, putting on his expensive tailored-coat.
“You’re leaving already? Why did you not wake me up?”
“You looked like you were having a nice dream.”
MATCHING PAJAMAS (heck yeah!!). The time when he saw you wearing one of his pajamas, it felt like something had been flipped inside of him and the thought of getting you one for your own that matches his fills each and every corner of his mind. Although all of the matching things you have with him are not just limited to pajamas—it can range from matching jewelry, matching charms, matching clothing, matching glasses, matching everything. God, he goes into a store, sees something that he likes and asks the staff if they have another one but in a different color that you like.
Perhaps you have never noticed (or maybe you have) but he never wears his glasses whenever he’s around you—when there’s only you and him. There was no need to hide anything from you, not when you adore all parts of his being. He melts whenever you compliment him (he’s a sucker for such words of affection) especially when it’s his eyes, loves the way you look at him as if he was everything you wish for.
He’ll often play games with you or initiate a bet but somehow, he has more losses than wins. “You’re cheating!” You’ll say, pointing at him as if you were an attorney from a game that objects to a statement. Aventurine, however, would stare at you in disbelief (though he’s just feigning innocence) and would answer with a raised eyebrow: “How am I the one cheating when you’re winning?” To which you’ll respond with: “That’s because you’re letting me win. You’re not playing fair, Aven.”
SPOILS YOU A LOT and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. Everything you'll ask for or even just mention in passing, he'll provide. He randomly sends you pockets of money, a notification on your phone lighting up your screen and the text says: You have received 100, 000 credits. You have to get used to it—it’s one of the ways that he shows his affection to you. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer whenever he gives you something either, so, you have to take it or else you’ll have to deal with a sulky man the whole day. 
Don’t worry though as he ensures that everything that he buys and gets for you is something you would like—expensive meaningless gifts will always be meaningless, he would rather give you a cheap yet beautiful charm that is of your favorite color or flower than an expensive shiny necklace made out of gold and adorned with diamonds which you’ll never wear because it’s too heavy on your neck or it’s not your preference.
On that note, he also likes seeing you wear the things he bought for you. Maybe it’s obvious, maybe it’s not, but he likes to dress you up, likes to see you put on the clothes he picks for you. Dates where he brings you to a boutique to pick clothes together (for both you and him), dress up, and ask each other if they look good is not so rare between you two. It’s silly but the two of you would end up giggling like children when the other would strike a ridiculous pose to show off what they're wearing (and also, with the intention to make one another laugh); he lives for and craves these moments with you.
Brings you together with him to casinos and lets you watch him while he plays as he regards you as his lucky charm (when he’s actually the one who is lucky here). Whenever he wins a game or a bet, he asks for a kiss from you—he taps on his cheek as an indication of his request but he will not force you if you don’t wish to express such affections in public, rather he’ll ask for something else instead like maybe a smile or ask that you hold his hand. Sometimes, if you’re curious enough, he’ll teach you the fundamentals of the game and what you can do to win. The look of pride on his face says it all as he watches you win and your opponent falls to the floor (you just put someone in debt).
The amount of endearing names that he calls you. If ever you get flustered whenever he calls you with those affectionate endearments, he’ll take the chance to tease you, to repeatedly call you with such names until you throw a pillow or any object at him—he catches it though but will apologize while laughing, saying that he won’t do it again.
You have to be understanding and gentle with him, careful as you tread the light, lest you fall into the dark and see that the tall and strong walls he built around himself is nothing compared to the broken and fragile pieces that are sewn on his skin, and he will leave (out of fear, out of anxiety, out of grief, out of self-hatred). But it’s alright, everything will be, you’ll embrace him even in the abyss and you’ll guide him back to your warmth.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works
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animeismyhappyplace · 3 months
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The Devil's Salvation
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Synopsis: Lucifer's heart is hurting due to the recent extermination. In an effort to help shift some of the pain Y/N, his assistant, attempts to distract him with her body.
Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel.
Word Count: 5K (5,930)
Trigger warnings: 18+ only!!!
Boss/employee relationship, power imbalance, biting, marking, hickies, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, brief oral (m.recieving), sex on furniture, cowgirl, dick riding, possessive language, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweets, dear), fluffy ending, some Dom/sub/switch undertones, descriptive sex scene, Lucifer is a total cutie, some very minimal angst directed at extermination day rather than the characters.
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The sky in Hell is dark and bleeding red as another extermination comes to its gruesome end. 
Lucifer is slumped over his desk with a sour expression on his face as he throws one of his rubber ducks across the room "another year, another fucking blood bath" he grumbles to himself as he hears footsteps coming to his invention room. 
He hears a few knocks as a soft voice breaks the silence "it's over Lucifer, can I come in?" His assistant Y/N asks quietly.
Lucifer's red eyes light up as his mood perks up "of course dear! Come in, come in~" He leans back in his chair, letting loose a small yawn scrunching his nose as he does.
He glances at the rubber duck laying on the ground, and then back at the woman in front of him "what brings you to my office?.." His voice remains soothing as he finally looks at her properly for the first time that day, she's wearing a red dress shirt with a matching striped skirt pretty similar to what he is wearing ‘cute, very cute’ he can't help but think with a small smile. Her dog-like ears flat against her head as she bows to him.
"I wanted to check on you sir, I know extermination days are taxing on your health" she frowns as she takes in his appearance, his hat has been placed on his desk, his staff nowhere to be seen and his eyes have large bags under them.
Lucifer gives out a soft chuckle, before putting one hand to his temple "yes, yes thank you for your concern, my dear. You are right, these kinds of days can be exhausting to say the least" 
He glances at her noticing her ears still firmly pinned to her head so he tries to offer a small smile but it doesn't seem to work very well, she can see right through him. 
"It's reassuring to know that someone cares about me in this shit hole, you're truly the best assistant I could ask for”
A small blush settles on her cheeks and her ears perk up a little as she shakes her head dismissively "it's my job to worry about you sir" she chuckles softly almost under her breath.
"As per usual for this time of year I've cleared your schedule so you have no commitments for the rest of the day" she's smiling as she speaks but Lucifer notices her brow is furrowed ever so slightly.
Lucifer raises his eyebrow, taking notice of the sour look on her face. 
“Your concern is appreciated, and I’m grateful to have you by my side"
He pushes himself forward in his rather large chair and sighs.
"It’s nice that you cleared my schedule for me... I need a rest” 
His tone remains soft with a subtle hint of affection, but his attention is captured by your worried expression.
"What’s wrong?" He asks in a soft tone.
Her eyes slide off to the side focusing on one of the mountains of rubber ducks, she sighs as she collects her thoughts before looking back at his scarlett eyes.
"The head exterminator, Adam, has made contact sir and he wants to meet. Wouldn't tell me why though" her brow furrows again more deeply this time as anxiety sinks into her heart.
Lucifer frowns as he processes the information.
"Adam made contact?" He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. 
"And... he didn't tell you why?" Lucifer's voice has a slight hint of suspicion, and his expression turns more serious as Y/N shakes her head solemnly 
"No, he refused to answer my questions, just said "arrange the meeting bitch" and flew off with the others" her nose crinkles in disgust as she thinks back to the arsehole angel.
Lucifer grunts in frustration as he stands up from his chair.
"That man sure is arrogant... but this is rather suspicious” Lucifer strokes his chin, pondering this sudden event.
"I'll take care of it, no need for you to worry~" Lucifer offers a reassuring smile and a gentle pat to her head, although the frown on his face shows a hint of his frustration.
Y/N starts to speak but thinks better of it as she watches Lucifer pull out his phone while walking into the hallway. 
He comes back a few minutes later and explains that his daughter Charlie will be taking charge of the meeting so she can pitch her hotel to the angels. Y/N nods in understanding as he speaks.
"I'm sure she'll do brilliantly sir" Y/N smiles and Lucifer can't help but smile back at the young assistant, and chuckles at her words.
"Charlie will do great," Lucifer agrees "She's certainly more than capable of handling the meeting"
As Lucifer talks, he starts to pace around the room, his gaze distant as he thinks to himself.
The young woman tilts her head to the side slightly as she watches her boss "what's on your mind sir?" She presses gently, taking note he seems more lost in thought than usual.
Lucifer's eyes trail back to his assistant.
"I'm just thinking, my dear. It's strange that the head exterminator would make contact as opposed to showing up at the doors" Lucifer's brow was still in a puzzled expression. 
Without much detail he continues to speak, sounding more concerned "It's.. not a great sign.. something's wrong, I feel it in my bones..”
Y/N walks towards Lucifer and takes a hold of the cuff of his pearly white jacket gently.
"Please stop worrying sir, I'm sure Charlie will do fabulously at this meeting and you'll know soon enough what Adam's plans are. Please sit and rest" 
She pleads as she gently guides him back to his chair. Lucifer's eyebrows raise at her sudden action, but his eyes warmth and comfort as she urges him to sit back down.
"You're right.. I'm just letting my depression get the better of me HA HA” he tries to fake a laugh but it's hopeless, and walks back to his chair, sitting down.
There is a long stretch of silence, but he gives her a charming smile, offering one last glimpse of comfort.
“Thank you, my dear”
"of course sir, let me get you something to drink" 
She bows as she leaves his study to find something to calm his nerves 
Lucifer leans back into his seat, the tension slowly receding as he waits for her to come back. He glances at the rubber duck still lying on the floor, and rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. Despite his efforts to stay calm, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about this whole predicament.
Y/N returns quickly with some tea "this should help soothe some of your worries sir" she smiles as she pours him a cup of the warm beverage. Lucifer nods, his smile growing as he sees the cup in her hands. 
"Thank you, my dear. You know, you're very perceptive of my needs.. I'm quite lucky to have you as my assistant" he says as he takes the cup from you.
She smiles brightly while nodding "I should hope so Lucifer sir, I've been working for you pretty much since I arrived in Hell" 
Y/N clears away some of the papers scattered across his desk, keeping them safely to the side so as to not potentially spill tea on them.
Lucifer chuckles as he takes small sips of the tea, his eyes taking in the details of her movements as she clears up his desk.
"Indeed you have, you've been the best assistant I could ask for.." 
Lucifer's tone is much warmer now, and he takes a big sip before continuing.
"Although I suppose I've never asked, how long have you been here in Hell in total?”
"Only a few years now but I guess it's not so bad down here, especially since I get to work for you" she smiles as she holds the tray the tea was on to her chest waiting for him to finish up. Lucifer's cheeks heat up as smiles, taking a few more sips and finishing up the tea.
"Well... I suppose I can't argue with that, especially when you say it so sweetly" Lucifer chuckles, brushing his hand through his golden hair.
"It's good that you feel right at home here. I'll admit, Hell can be a bit... overwhelming when you first get here”
Y/N clears away his used cup and places it off to the side as she's cleaning up she notices him walking up to a large window, looking down at the carnage left behind by the angels with a deep frown set into his usually delicate features.
"Sir?" She asks softly as she sees his shoulders tense up.
Lucifer pauses at the window, taking in the destruction as the bodies litter the streets.
His mood seems to have shifted dramatically from his previous lightheartedness, as his expression becomes very serious.
He glances back at Y/N, taking notice of her concerned glances.
"Hm?..." Lucifer says, his tone sounding rather calm "oh, it's nothing. Just.. observing, is all.”
Y/N sighs sadly before joining him at the window to see what he's looking at and when she does, she understands.
She can see the devastation left behind, sinners dead bodies piling up, the streets ablaze as overlords fight for new unclaimed territories. She can see the weight it leaves on his heart.
"This was never what I wanted you know all those years ago" he sighs but doesn't look at her, even with his attention fixed outside she can see the hurt swirling in his usually shining eyes. 
Y/N lifts her hand tentatively to Lucifer's back in an effort to comfort him, even if it's only for a moment.
Lucifer turns his focus from the carnage back to the younger woman, and is caught slightly off guard by her sudden and kind gesture.
Lucifer’s red eyes are full of sorrow as he looks back at her, the weight of his burden clearly settling on his soul.
As her hand rests upon his back, he finds himself calming down, almost as if just her touch was enough to soothe some of his suffering.
"you can't blame yourself sir, you couldn't have known what would happen" ears twitching as she frowns at his pained expression, rubbing slow circles against his back.
Lucifer sighs sharply, leaning his back against her hand as she calms him with soft circular motions.
"You're right, I couldn't.. but I still do..." Lucifer mutters, his voice sounding much softer now.
There is a brief moment of silence, where he appears to just absorb the comforting warmth coming from her touch.
"That's a lot of weight to carry... even for a king" her hand stills on his back for a moment as she pulls away moving back towards his desk away from the window.
"I have a feeling things are going to change, very soon sir. Thanks you and your family" Y/N smiles as she rests against the edge of his desk. 
Lucifer’s eyes dart over to her as she steps back and leans on his desk, his smile returning slightly at her optimistic words. 
"Yes, I have that feeling too...." 
Lucifer mutters thoughtfully.
"But regardless of what comes, I hope that you will always be here by my side, helping me carry whatever weight the future holds..." Lucifer says, his voice sounding slightly solemn yet also reassuring.
"You're my king Lucifer, I will be here as long as you desire" as silence slips between them Y/N clears her throat before speaking again "I'd say you use a distraction right about now sir" 
A sweet and genuine smile touches Lucifer's lips as he raises an eyebrow.
"A distraction?.." Lucifer's voice is 
 playful as the gears start turning in his head.
She hums sweetly as her fingers drum anxiously against Lucifer's desk her eyes on his carpeted flooring "well Lilith has been gone for years now, you've been alone all that time" 
Her eyes flit up to look at him "you must have been so lonely sir, you should look into fixing that" she watches for any changes to his body language with a barely hidden smirk. 
Lucifer takes a moment to digest her words letting out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.
"You're being rather bold my dear..." 
Lucifer smiles softly while shaking his head with his eyebrows raised and a blush spreads across his pale cheeks 
"Ah.. well.. I've not been entirely alone now, have I?..." His tone is playful, but she can feel the flirtatious nature behind them. 
She bites her lip while smiling "you're right Lucifer, I've been right here" 
She bats her eyelashes at him acting as sweetly as she can whilst pushing herself just off the edge of his large desk "and I'll always be right by your side sir" 
As she bats her eyelashes at him he chuckles, a blush deepening his cheeks slightly.
There's a brief pause as his eyes scan over her body, taking notice of the cute way she's leaning on his desk. He speaks coyly back at her.
"Is that so?"
"Tell me dear, if I... needed someone to lean against.. would you be ready?”
Y/N leans forward to grasp his hand gently so he could pull away at any time "haven't I already shown I'm ready to stay by your side?" 
She looks into his eyes as she tugs on his hand prompting him to come closer "I know how much Lilith leaving hurt you but I wouldn't do that ever" 
Lucifer's heart skips a beat as he watches her take his hand, tugging him inches closer.
It takes him a moment, but Lucifer gently pulls her closer, until she is right in front of him, their bodies almost touching.
His breath catches as his eyes stare back at her doe like expression, he can't quite believe how cute she looks right now, her nose almost touching his own. Lucifer pauses, and glances down at her lips. His eyes flicker from her lips, and back to her eyes.
"You really won't, will you..?" Lucifer mutters quietly, sounding a bit breathless.
"The sweetest sinner in all of Hell" he almost whispers with a smile as his hands cup her face, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her cheeks 
His tenderness shocks her though it really shouldn't for how long she's known him and she closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying their closeness and his tender touches 
Her hands sneak up to his red striped dress shirt, pulling him ever closer bridging the gap between their bodies. Her lips stop just short of his own, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath. 
She looks into his eyes and waits for him to decide if he really wants this, wants her.
Lucifer's heart almost stops as she pulls him close, his mind spinning rapidly making him dizzy as he realises how long it's been since he's felt affection like this. His eyes fixate on her cherry red lips, watching as she gets so close he can feel her body heat. He hesitates for a moment as he worries what will happen if things go wrong but he leans forward needing to take this risk.
Lucifer closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her so tenderly as though she'll break the second he lets go, and his hands grip her body tightly, pulling her even closer.
Y/N's hands grip Lucifer's waist as his hands move to pull her face closer, deepening their kiss.
Her chest is heaving slightly as he kisses her with more passion than she's ever felt, leaving her breathless.
Her cheeks are a deep shade of pink when Lucifer finally pulls away, she giggles as he bites his lip red irises watching her intently 
Lucifer's breath is still staggered as he pulls away from her lips, red-faced and blushing. He pulls himself away from her, as a light-hearted grin spreads across his cheeks.
His eyes glance down to her lips, and his brows raise.
"It seems my assistant has gotten a bit too familiar with me~..." Lucifer teases with a playful smirk.
She gasps pushing at his chest playfully while giggling at his teasing words "who in Hell could blame me when my boss looks like this" 
She bites her lip as she intertwines their fingers pulling him towards the lavish chair seated behind his desk, she gestures for him to sit as her hungry eyes rake down his form.
Lucifer chuckles as he allows her to pull him towards the chair. As he sits down comfortably, he notices the way she's looking at him and he smiles, his golden eyebrows raising up in a flirtatious manner. He gives her a playful wink.
"You're a real handful, my dear.. I hope you know that?”
She smirks as she climbs into his lap, licking her lips as he lets out a surprised grunt "oh I'm counting on it sir" 
A sly smile forms on Lucifer's face as he glances up at her.
He lets out a little laugh, amused at her boldness. His hands trail softly up and down her sides, his fingers tracing little circles against her skin as he bites his lip muttering with a grin "fuck sweetheart you're going to be the death of me”
Y/N shifts slightly once in his lap, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable, looping her hands around his neck as she steals his lips in another kiss.
Her tongue licks over his bottom lip as he hungrily accepts her affections. 
Lucifer's body immediately responds to her touch, his entire frame heating up as she kisses and nibbles softly at his lip.
His fingers tighten around her hips, pulling her closer, and his other hand trails her body from her hips all the way to her neck.
Lucifer pulls back ever so slightly, his breath staggered, feeling as if he might melt from the heat rising between them.
"You're lucky I don't get visitors often sweetheart, who knows what vicious rumors would be spread if you were caught in my lap" Lucifer mumbles in between kisses.
Y/N's kisses trail across Lucifers lips to his rosy cheeks then down to his jaw as she starts nibbling at the delicate flesh "I'm sure you'd find a way to silence them"
Hearing Lucifer's sinful groans, her hips start to gently rock back and forth as her tongue laps at his neck, sucking harshly in the places that make his groans deepen.
Lucifer's breath catches in his throat as his back arches slightly with every gentle kiss. Just the feel of her breathing heavily against his neck drives him crazy, the heat rushing through his body and spreading like a fever.
He bites his lip to prevent himself from letting out any more noises, his head lolling back slightly as she sucks on his neck. A breathy groan escapes him without notice, as his breathing grows more rapid, his cheeks redder. 
"f-fuck I need..." He whines as his hands fly out to grip steady onto her hips, grinding the growing tent in his pants up against her.
Her skirt starts to ride up as his body jolts from the stimulation, her breaths leaving her throat in hiccups as she feels him poking at her inner thighs. 
"L-Luci~" she moans breathlessly, her hips stuttering as he rubs against her clothed core.
Lucifer's jaw muscles tighten as he grips her body tighter, almost going mad listening to her sweet sounds. 
Her voice sounds like a soothing melody to his ears, and he can't hold himself back any longer. He begins to kiss her throat, and even licks the skin between her neck and shoulder biting softly.
Y/N whines as he teases her body, lolling her head back to give him more space to mark her neck and shoulder. 
Lucifer pulls back once he's satisfied with his work eyeing the claim he's laid on her body. Her breath catches in her throat as he lifts her from his lap onto his desk.
"My dear, I dare say you've never looked more divine than you do right now" he bites his lip as she's laid out before him, her chest heaving and her legs spread as he slots himself between her thighs. 
Y/N runs her fingertips along the edge of her skirt before she starts to slowly and teasingly tug it upwards revealing more of her body to her king.
Lucifer watches her slowly and teasingly tug your skirt up with interest. His eyes trailing up her body, taking in every inch of her skin as she reveals more of herself to his greedy eyes.
A breathy groan escapes him at the sight as he grips the meat of her thighs tightly. Spreading her legs out as he licks his lips at the damp patch on her underwear a low whimper escapes his throat "you'll surely drive me mad, sweetheart" 
He utters softly, as a blush spreads across his cheeks. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. Her cheeks heat up at his sultry words making her whine in embarrassment and hunger "Luci please" 
Her hands reach out to grasp at this forearms, gripping tightly as she tries to wiggle her hips looking for some attention to be paid to her heated skin.
Lucifer's mouth twitches at the pure desperation in her eyes, his hands trailing up and down her legs before moving back to the top of her thighs to her thighs. He gives them both a quick squeeze, drawing her attention back towards him.
His soft whispers carry a hint of playful teasing. 
"Pretty desperate for my attention huh?" Lucifer asks in a low voice as his red eyes watch her reactions carefully.
She nods helplessly as her eyes fog up with unshed tears, his teasing touches pure torture as his fingers leave heat and desire everywhere they touch.
"N-need you to do something, anything... Please baby" she pleads as her arms reach up above her head to grasp at the edge of his desk. 
Lucifer bites his lip, and he can't help just how much her words excite him... her hunger is so apparent, so raw, and the way she begs for what she wants does nothing to help the problem in his pants.
He leans in closer, his eyes darting to her neck and jaw before he quickly dips his head down, his mouth placing a short peck of a kiss just above her collarbone. 
His kisses continue down her body until he reaches the band of her panties. He gives her one firm look, as if to say ‘tell me know if you need to stop’, but she shakes her head and lifts her hips, wiggling them teasingly making him smirk.
"Who knew my soft spoken assistant would be so greedy?" he mutters with a smile as his thumb pushes into the wet spot on her panties making her gasp at the sudden stimulation. Enjoying her reaction he moves his thumb up slightly to rub against her clothed clit, grinning widely when her thighs tremble.
"This is what you wanted right sweetheart? wanted my fingers to play with your cute little pussy?" 
Her head nods aggressively as she bites down on her tongue to stifle the wanton moans waiting to escape. 
She can't help but rock her hips forward against his hand wanting more, needing more as her skin feels like it's been set alight with passion and desire. 
Lucifer chuckles softly as he watches her squirm under his touch, licking his lips as he feels her slick coat his thumb. 
"Ah ah ah, you need to use your big girl words if you want something from me" he grins wickedly.
"Need your fingers Luci" she pouts cutely when he raises his eyebrow at her.
A smirk spreads across his pink cheeks as he pulls her panties down her legs and throws them off to the side, sucking in a breath as he admires her naked body, wetness and need shining across her skin "Yeah? where do you need me hmm?" 
A stray tear streaks down her cheeks as she whines "n-need your fingers in my pussy, fuck please Luci! I-I need-" 
Lucifer grins wickedly as he watches her squirm under his gaze, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip of her nose then to her cheek and he even places a soft kiss on her fluffy ears before straightening back up. He smirks at her desperation, sliding his fingers into her dripping pussy and grinning widely as she lets out a shaky moan.
Y/N's head lolls back and her eyes roll as she finally gets the stimulation she needed, whines tumbling out of her strained throat as her hands turn white from her gripping so hard at his desk "f-fuckk..." 
Lucifer watches her closely, his fingers curling inside her wet heat, relishing in the way she squirms and begs for more. 
He leans down once more, his lips brushing against her neck as he murmurs, "Talk to me sweetheart... Tell me how good I make you feel?" 
His fingers curl upwards his thumb swipes across her clit making her almost cry as the pleasure wrecks through her shaking body.
Her thighs shake as sweat starts to pool against her forehead, her hips bucking wildly at the onslaught of pleasure Lucifer is giving her "I- you- fuuck so fucking good, love your t-thick fingers Luci”
Lucifer chuckles softly, pleased by her response as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her wet pussy faster, his thumb continuing to tease her clit with feather-light touches. 
He can't help but lean down to place another kiss on her collarbone. His teeth graze along the soft skin, eliciting a shiver from his lover.
Y/N's sweet moans and the wet squelches of her abused pussy fill the quiet room, a strangled cry leaves her chapped lips as his fingers bump a spongy spot in her tight walls, he almost stops his movements as the realisation hits making him chuckle "Theree it is, that's the spot yeah sweetheart?"
She rocks her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers as her moans pitch up in volume, she can't help but babble as the pleasure builds "there.... fuck d-don stop" another desperate whine "gonna cum... fuck! fuck! FUCK!”
Lucifer smirks as he watches her lose control, her body arching off the desk in search of more pleasure. His fingers curled deeper inside her, finding that spot again and again as he relished in the power he held over her. 
Her eyes roll back as her walls clamp down on his fingers, his thumb rubbing tight circles over her throbbing clit until her high slowly ends. 
Her breathing is erratic as her high tingles over her limbs before slowly ebbing away leaving her body limp, when her eyes can fully focus she sees Lucifer slurping up the wetness coating his fingers.
The sight alone is so sinful it sends fresh waves of need flooding through her veins as her hands reach out for him.
Lucifer grins mischievously, watching her every move. He licks his fingers clean with a soft moan, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. 
"You're irresistible," he murmurs, his voice rough with need.
She gently guides Lucifer down to sit in the plush chair "your turn baby~" 
Y/N licks her lips as she sinks to her knees before him, running her hands over his strong thighs. Slowly moving her way up until her fingers hit his pristine white belt, she discards it off to the side of the room as she works on pulling down his suit pants, smiling sinfully as she notices the wet spot soaking through his boxers.
Lucifer groans softly as he feels her hands on him, his cock twitching in anticipation. He watches her with hooded eyes, a mix of desire and possession in their depths. Her thumb rubs over the wet spot making his hips jump at the sudden pleasure.
"You like making me cum on your fingers this much Luci?" she grins as she flicks her tongue over the wetness moaning softly at the first taste of his pre.
"I love seeing you so submissive, it drives me wild," he answers, his voice deep and husky. He watches her hungrily, his eyes locked on the sight of her teasing his cock “and those cute little moans you let out? Truly sinful baby” 
She hums to herself as she pulls the suffocating materiel down his legs joining the growing pile on the floor, her eyes widening as she takes in the size of his cock for the first time mumbling more to herself than to him "such a pretty cock”
His eyes squeeze shut tightly as her delicate fingers reach out to explore his body, her pink tongue licks up the length of his cock so suddenly it makes Lucifer suck in a breath as he groans "definitely going to be the death of me sweetheart... f-fuck~" 
His cute reaction makes her smile and raises her confidence. This time she flattens her tongue, rolling it over his slit taking the time to lick up all the precum drooling over his cock head, moaning as it coats her tongue and bottom lip. 
Lucifer's breath hitches at the sensation, his hips jerking forward almost involuntarily. He bites his lip, trying to keep control as she lavishes him with her attention "such a good fucking girl f'me" 
His soft grunts and groans raise in volume as she starts to suck on his swollen heads, flicking her tongue over his slit as her hands pump his length "f-feels too good baby... You gotta stop or I'll cum too quick, wanna cum in your pretty little pussy"
She giggles but concedes giving him one last long lick up the length of his cock following the thick veins she finds before she allows him to lift her onto his lap. 
Once settled she gives him a deep passionate kiss tasting herself on his tongue as his hand dips between their bodies to line himself up, rubbing his cock over her clit once then twice before finally sinking into her tight pussy. 
Lucifer's hands grasp her hips tightly as he feels himself sinking into her wet heat, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He groans deeply into their kiss, his tongue dancing with hers to muffle their sounds of pleasure.
He holds her hips tightly in place as he fills her up fully "y'gotta stay still for me sweets or I'll finish right now 'kay?" 
She nods as she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as she adjusts to his massive size. 
Her body shakes as his thumb rubs on her swollen clit making broken moans slip from her throat as he suddenly thrusts his hips upwards making them both groan " 'kay you can move now, you gonna ride me pretty girl?" 
Her arms loop around his neck as she starts to slowly lift up then sinking back down so he's filling her to the hilt. After a few slow movements her desperation increases, finding a place to steady both of her feet she starts to bounce on his cock, the angle making his head hit her sweet spot with every thrust. 
Sweat starts to coat both of their half naked bodies, pain starting to set into her limbs but the pleasure he's giving her is too good for her to break, her head falls back and his hands grip her waist tight helping her to rock up and down at a steady rhythm.
Lucifer's hands tighten on her waist, one sliding down to the small of her back while the other grips the flesh above her ass cheek as she rides him. 
He groans deeply, watching as his cock sinks into her tight walls with every movement and rocking his hips in time with hers "love this tight little pussy~ could have been fucking you like this for years if I'd known how well you take me sweetheart" 
Y/N preens at his praise, doubting her efforts. Her throat constricts with every moan but if feels so good she couldn't care less "need you to keep fucking me Luci, love your cock sooo much feels too good”
Lucifer's eyes glow a dark red with lust as he looks up at her, one of his hands sliding up to grab her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples between his fingers the other dripping lower to play with her clit, drilling his hips up into her dripping pussy "I'm not stopping until you cum on my cock sweetheart~”
The pleasure he's giving her is too much for her spent body, her thighs start to shake as the coil tightening in her stomach threatens to snap "yes yes yes Luci baby shit!~ m'close so fucking close" her walls start to calm down on his cock.
"Fuck" he grunts, his thrusts becoming jerkier and harder as he feels her start to tighten around him "Come on sweetheart, let go~ need to feel you cum on my cock~" 
He gives her two more powerful thrusts, mumbling words of encouragement in her ear nibbling on her earlobe.
"that's it pretty~ look how your walls are clamping down on me, I'm fucking you so good your body won't let me pull out" 
Gasps fall from her lips like the most unholy prayers as her body stills the pleasure flooding wildly through her veins, shaky moans tumbling from her lips as she cries his name over and over until she can barely speak any longer. 
Lucifer's thrusts match hers, pounding into her as he feels her walls start to spasm around him. He groans deeply, his own pleasure starting to build as he watches her cum hard on his cock.
He can't help but whine loudly as her orgasm triggers his own, his body shaking as he dumps his load into her quivering walls crying her name as he holds her tight to his body.
Lucifer places soft kisses on each spot of her skin he can reach as she comes down from the high, she returns his affections leaving purple and red blotches down his neck and the along his jaw wanting to show all of Hell her handy work, possessiveness shining in her eyes as she watches his blissed out face.
Lucifer smiles softly at her, his eyes filled with pure adoration. He nuzzles against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to her collarbone.
He hums lowly in his throat, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as he leans in to nip at her neck gently. 
"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, slowly pulling out of her body and readjusting so they're more comfortable. 
"You're truly mine, aren't you sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice husky with tiredness. 
Her fingers reach upt o cup his face gently as she looks into his eyes "for as long as you'll have me, sir" she winks cheekily at him placing kisses along his jaw hiding her heated cheeks.
Lucifer chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down her sides to soothe her sensitive skin. 
"That's my girl," he breathes out before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow deep kiss, lifting her body into his arms to carry her to his bedroom. 
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Beautiful banner by: @/saradika
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ew-selfish-art · 7 months
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Dp x dc AU: the watchtower gives out very strictly limited passes for visitors. They don’t need the world knowing that their HQ is in space after all, but sometimes family needed to visit.
Batman was the one to install the day pass system back when Dick was Robin- he needed the excuse to send Dick home to Alfred after a certain amount of time has passed and it just stuck. Unless you were a full time member, day passes were the best you got. Engineers and other supportive staff that weren’t members weren’t afforded day passes however- but Jazz is determined to be the one exception.
Jazz Fenton has been a psychologist for the JL for a year now (she just had a very productive performance review, thank you very much) and it’s been killing her to not tell Danny her office is in space. They do weekly dinners that he portals in for, and he knows that she takes a Zeta tube to work, but he’s technically not allowed to know that her office is a satellite. So, she sets a meeting with the man who started the system in the first place.
Batman is hard to read for most but she’s been his therapist for a while now, and she can tell he’s at least considering her request. Dinah couldn’t speak more kindly on Jazz and she’s been an asset to the JL in many ways since she was hired. Jazz’ arguments aren’t preposterous either- she’s submitted all of his identification papers, his background check, his job description and all of his friends names. She assured him that Danny will be able to keep a secret but when pressed she doesn’t reveal if he has any of his own.
Turns out, months of back and forth and negotiations were going be basically worthless- the second Danny got his little wrist band day pass, made it up via the zeta tube and got presented the view of Earth from the observation deck: he immediately transformed. Like zero caution, just went ghost and hyper fixated on the stars.
“You could have mentioned your Brother being Phantom. He’s been an ally to us for a while.” Batman grumbles in the way that only his family and she can tell through his deadpan.
“Yeah, I just thought that would’ve been a second visit conversation.”
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tiyoin · 1 month
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parents day shenanigans
ep 1: trey’s mom tries playing match maker
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it being parents weekend at nrc and you’re helping your friends / the staff in preparing and you noticed several different parents just… staring at you. they’re not discreet either😭
you see some students fighting their parents- like physically fighting them as they’re pushing their son in your direction 😭 you catch one of the students gaze, and smile at them, sending them a polite wave as you make your exit.
this doesn’t stop though.
the more time that goes by and the busier you get, the more families filter in. the more younger siblings of your peers seem to scream your name before a quick slap to their mouth keeps them quiet.
you’ve told grim about this and all he says is that he should start paying them to take pictures with you AND grin the great. you chuckle as you kneel to the ground. opening a small duffel bag crowley armed you with, you start mixing around for a bottle of water.
why’d crowley have to pick the hottest day of the season for family day. curses.
“you’re y/n, right?” suddenly a shadow blocked the beating sun from your crouched form. the voice, for once, was feminine, it was soft and flowy. clearing your throat, you began to turn around “yes, that’s me” looking up at the rather petite woman, you noted her kind smile and rosy cheeks.
though there was a bit of… something in her golden gaze that you couldn’t quite place. it reminded you of a hawk, yet it didn’t have the same intensity as the bird of prey’s. slightly guarded of the mystery woman, you began to stand, dusting off the dirt on your uniform pants.
“grim you mind getting me a bottle of water from the duffel” “uh, yeah i do mind” he huffed, turning his nose up. but you didn’t play into his antics this time, just softly thanking him as you turned to face the woman.
and just as you thought, in a few seconds you heard grumbling and rustling as the monster looked through the duffel.
“i’m sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce myself- i’m trey’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” sticking her hand out, you stared at it for a second, flickering your gaze to her smiling eyes before you hesitantly focused on shaking her hand.
“it’s really nice to meet you mrs.clover” she laughed, flicking her hand as if you told her a joke.
“please, just call me alice! with how much my son talks about you it feels like we’re already friends!” she smiled behind her hand. her eyes never leaving yours as she watched your jaw open in shock.
“he- he talks about me?”
like vil schonheit, she gasped in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth as if she just realized she ratted on her son. “oops! silly me, i shouldn’t have told you that! please don’t tell try what i told you the next time you see him, okay?”
about to swear your silence, her hands lowered as her lip quirked up “or do, he’s adorable when he’s flustered” and just like that the smirk was gone and her sweet persona took over.
“o- okay” you gulped due to the lost of words you seem to find yourself at. what the hell was happening??? it hasn’t even been five minutes and this woman has made you go through the 3 of the however amount of stages of grief already.
“here” a cute, raspy voice said from behind you. feeling a small few tugs on your pant sleeve, you accept the water bottle from grim, immediately chugging it to combat the new heat you found yourself in.
“oh what an adorable cat you have there, i’ve heard all about ‘grim the great’ as well” she leaned down to pet his head. normally- normally grim would snap his teeth at an unwelcome touch… and yet- grim seemed to welcome it no, enjoy it was his ever so famous grin exposed more teeth than you’ve ever seen.
“nya-ah!! see! i told you everyone loves grim the great!” picking up the boasting cat, you could only roll your eyes as you adjusted him in your grip.
“geez grim, go to town on the tuna last night? i swear you weren’t this heavy yesterday” you groaned, trying to fix him with your knee.
huffing, grim crossed his arms and refused to look at you or acknowledge your struggling. “hmph! a henchman should always be able to carry their master! you’re just weak!!” “am not”
“allow me to try” a voice interjected.
you wanted to smack yourself in the face for forgetting someone- let alone trey’s mother was here and a witness to your usual shenanigans with your partner in crime.
“are you sure?” you look at his squishy tummy as you offer her a coy smile“he’s quite heavy”
“pshh- nonsense! i’m a baker! we’re used to carrying all sorts of things. we’re quite strong so to say.” she takes him from your grasp easily. and with the same easiness, she put him in a comfortable baby position where his legs were around his waist, arms around her neck, and his neck over her shoulder.
“there! easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you could hear from sigh in content, his forked tailed swooshing happily.
“remind me not to get in an arm wrestling match with you anytime soon” you mused, looking around nervously as the woman wouldn’t stop staring at you.
laughing softly, she shook her head “it’s not me you should be worried about-“
“mom?!”
kill me now. kill me now. kill me now.
“speak of the devil and he shall come! trey baby how are you! i thought you were with your father and your younger siblings”
trey made his way up to your little group from behind you, stopping only when he turned the line into a triangle.
“y-y/n! i’m sorry if my mom said anything weird”
waving him with a woobly smile, you jerked your head towards his mom. “she’s actually been a great help with keeping this one outta my hair” trey looked at the furry sack in his mother’s arms and only sighed.
“mom-“
“now now trey, let the ladies talk in peace okay!”
you swore you could see a grey hair manifesting as he sighed. “mom y/n is super busy and has to get back to work, let me introduce you to my science club teacher okay?”
quick and straight to the point, trey clover as usual had an agenda and that was to get his mom away from you before she said anything too revealing.
huffing, the woman pet grim once more before giving him over to you. but before that, she made sure to fix the cat monster’s position to where he was resting on your hip. with a proud smile she stepped back and looked at the two of you.
“look at you!! a natural!” she clapped, eyeing her son next to you for a moment before she bid you farewell. (not without a few comments herself )
there was a beat of silence before he sighed again. rubbing the nape of his neck he adverted his eyes bashfully. “i’m sorry about her, she’s a bit…”
“bubbly?”
“ambitious, that too- but definitely ambitious. she’s head of marketing for our family bakery for a reason”
“no shit” you gapped, watching the short haired woman vanish in the crowd. still nodding, albeit awkwardly this time, you adjusted your grip on the heavy cat. “he’s like a fat toddler” you joked, wanting a small chuckle from your senior.
“yeah… you’re definitely right about that”
“trey! honey! i forgot to give your friend her treat!”
like a panther, she jumped out from the sea of swarming families with a purpose.
“oh my sevens ” he breathed, rubbing his creasing brows. smiling up at him, you made a comment about it just being a treat.
“because of my son’s dorm” she started once she was within ear shot “i wanted to make his friends a little something something”
“now i see where you get your baking prowess from” you elbowed him, but he was too busy keeping his flushed face in the palm of his hands to respond.
“here you go~” she cooed “it’s a chocolate lollipop! in the shape of a heart! cute right! trey made it himself!”
“that’s cause i thought they were for an-“
ignoring her son, she started explaining the wrapped sweet to you. “oh yeah it’s definitely one of his best works!”
“really?” you mused, looking up at him “even better than your tiramisu?” he shrugged, still ostrich-info in his pile of sand (his hands).
“even better~ now c’mon trey! we have to find maddie, she’s wondered off again”
“again?” his head popped out as his glasses were a bit crooked, being a friendly neighbor, you did the only natural thing.
“uh trey” you pointed at your own face once you made eye contact “your glasses are a bit crooked”
cursing silently, he fixed him with a quick thank you before he rushed off in whatever direction his mom had come from.
and finally, with a big thumbs up and a toothy, shiny smile, she left to follow her son.
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imaginesmai · 2 months
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Missed target - Azriel
Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.
Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.
The Suriel 1
The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.
Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.
“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”
The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.
Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.
As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.
Missed date
Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.
Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.
Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.
Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.
But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.
“Are you ready to order?”
He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.
“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”
“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”
“Water is fine”
They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.
Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.
It was a nice plant.
“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”
“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.
“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “
Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.
The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.
Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.
Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.
Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.
Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.
His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.
Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.
You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.
“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”
“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.
“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”
Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.
But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.
“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”
“I’m Azriel”
“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”
“No”
He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.
You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.
When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.
As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.
The market
Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.
There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.
She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.
It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.
But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.
It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.
The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.
When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.
Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.
“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”
“Are you planning to eat it with me?”
Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.
He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.
Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.
“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”
The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.
But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.
He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.
The flowers
Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.
He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.
He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.
The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.
It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.
She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.
Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.
In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
Try to smile without looking creepy.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.
In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?
Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.
Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.
All because of the stupid melody.
His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.
He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.
“Hello?”
Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.
You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.
He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.
Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.
He had signed it.
Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel
His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.
The dance
“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.
“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”
Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.
His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.
“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”
“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.
“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”
“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”
“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”
Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.
Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.
He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.
Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.
Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.
Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.
“Is it because Elain?”
The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.
“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”
“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”
“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.
Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.
He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.
For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.
He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.
When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.
Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.
“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.
“Who’s not coming?”
“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”
Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.
Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.
Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.
“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”
“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.
“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”
Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.
Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.
He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.
Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.
Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.
“Damnit!”
“Careful – “
Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.
Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.
His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.
Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.
“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”
“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”
“That’s good”
Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.
Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.
“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.
“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”
“It feels right”
Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.
Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.
His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.
The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.
“Would you like to dance?”
Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.
The Suriel 2
In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.
But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.
The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.
As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.
The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.
He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!
Azriel taglist:
@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend
Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)
@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog
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letoasai · 10 months
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dp x dc Chronos part 2
Part 1  and Part 3 
The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy. 
Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.
“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.” 
“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes. 
“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of  interference.” 
“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.
“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.” 
“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side. 
Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.” 
“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?” 
“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens. 
“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.” 
Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?” 
Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower. 
Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs. 
“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not. 
“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm. 
The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.” 
“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice. 
“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.” 
“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.
The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.” 
“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.” 
He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on. 
“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?” 
He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.” 
The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled. 
“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God. 
“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely. 
“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others. 
“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.” 
He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally. 
“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories. 
Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.
“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention. 
“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.” 
The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled. 
“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?” 
Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.” 
“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass. 
“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough. 
Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?” 
“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.” 
She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.” 
Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.” 
Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?” 
“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.”  Chronos said. 
“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed. 
“I did say he was removed from his home.” Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks. 
“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse. 
“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.” 
“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.” 
Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.” 
“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with. 
It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers. 
Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined. 
Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned. 
His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head. 
When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.” 
“He’s a king?�� Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.” 
“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly. 
Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest. 
The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed. 
“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only. 
Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.” 
“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned. 
“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.” 
“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?” 
Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand. 
Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.” 
“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen. 
“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.
“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked. 
“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer. 
“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared. 
Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen. 
“Well…” Superman muttered. 
Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.” 
“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile. 
Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------
------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^
@markus209
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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months
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Simmer #2
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CH.2 Ice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
The first week at Jim’s went somewhat smoothly. 
You figured out a bus that would take you out of town and to the diner when it was raining or too dark, a rusty old thing that rattled the entire journey but it meant you got there a few minutes before your shift started. The summer was still present, a growing thing that became hotter and bigger as June turned to July, the sidewalks baking, the skies an endless blue between storms that you didn’t really mind. 
You got to meet the rest of the team that first morning, bumping into a girl as you made your way through the side door meant for staff. Robin was another waitress, a little blunt, really pretty and more than helpful. She took over immediately, waving away your explanation of having to report to Eddie, leading you into a back office that was crammed with a desk and a line of lockers. It took a while for her to find a key to one in a security box but eventually you had a locker, a name badge and a uniform that Robin promised was the cleanest one she could find. 
It was a powder blue thing with red trim, a little on the short side for a dress and it had you pulling at the hem until it covered your thighs more. The collar was white, starchy, the apron that tied around your waist matching. Robin grinned when you reappeared with it on, straightening your name badge for you before handing you a new pad and pen. 
“C’mon,” she tilted her head towards the kitchen, the smell of coffee and maple already pouring out of it. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”
There was Nancy, another waitress who helped Jim manage the diner’s taxes when she wasn’t back at college in Indianapolis. She seemed sweet, a little quieter than Robin, more eager to keep her head down and garner the best tips. 
Argyle was the boy you’d seen in the kitchen the day before, a smiling boy with the sleekest hair you’d ever seen. He offered a fist bump and a warm greeting, telling you to let him know of any medicinal preferences that he could help you out with. He was on prep duty in the kitchen and Robin claimed he could chop a full onion in ten seconds when he wasn’t busy eating the product.
Then there was Jonathan. A quiet guy who mostly worked the coffee bar and helped on dish duty when the kitchen was busy. He made a mean latte, you were told, and if he liked you, he’d use his special coffee beans that he kept hidden in the back. 
Steve was front of house, mostly waiting tables, sometimes sitting at the rarely used host desk. Handsome and polite, he waved at you from atop a kitchen counter, already chewing on a slice of toast that he ended up sharing with Robin. 
Going by the staff schedule that was pinned to a board in the office, there seemed to be more employees you’d yet to meet. A Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver and someone called William although it was scored out and had Billy written next to it. There was Dustin too, pencilled in at the bottom as a weekend busboy. 
All in all, the staff at Jim’s diner were pretty cool. There was a man you hadn’t met yet, someone called Murray that was supposed to be the kitchen manager but apparently, he preferred a more work from home type of schedule. Then there was Eddie Munson. 
Line cook, although in a diner this size, he was pretty much the only cook. Territorial over his kitchen, you’d been warned that the boy tended to keep to himself, liked to communicate in grunts and grumbles, and was usually perpetually moody. He had a lot of opinions over music, over food, over the right spice to use in apple pies. And he didn’t tend to take to new people, much to your dismay. The morning you arrived ready to work, Eddie greeted you with a grunt from behind a coffee cup, dumping your uniform into your arms with a name badge that had “Chicago” written in permanent marker, a sure sign that Jim had forgotten your name. 
So the first week went without much talking to Eddie, you keeping to your space between the tables and him keeping to the kitchen. Music blasted through most of the shift, with the boy working with his head down, curls escaping his bun, his apron tied right around his waist. Every now and then, when you came to the hatch to collect plates and orders, you’d hear him hum along to the radio, an upbeat tune that never matched the frown on his face. And if he happened to catch you staring, well, the lines between his brows only deepened. 
And despite the sour faced regulars who only grunted and held their cups out when you offered more coffee, working at the diner wasn’t the worst job you’d had. Tips were okay, Jonathan made you a latte every morning you shared a shift and the sizzle of the stoves became a comforting background noise as you pottered around the tables, smiling shyly and taking orders with the utmost concentration.  
It was fine, good even. Up until your first run in with Mr Creel. 
The older man frequented the diner regularly, coming in early mornings and late nights, leaving whatever job he did to spend hours at a time at the end of the diner bar. He sat under the television screen, a dead eye stare on whatever it was showing, only holding his mug out for coffee refills. 
He was particular about being left alone and even more particular about his coffee being black. So when you accidentally topped the caffeine up with creamer, you finally heard the old man’s voice. He yelled something awful, his voice croaky from hardly being used, a raspy, horrible thing as he uttered ugly words. 
“Stupid girl,” he hissed, knocking over the cup of coffee until the insides ran along the bar and dripped onto your white sneakers. “Are you dumb? Huh?” The man glared at you as you tried to form words, mouth tripping over an apology you weren’t sure he deserved anymore. “How difficult can this job be?”
Steve came to your aid, brow furrowed and tongue bitten as he held back the things he wanted to say to the customer. But he saw the tears in your eyes, your gaze a little unfocused and glassy, his hand on your elbow as he coaxed you into leaving the situation. 
“I got this,” he muttered, a rag in hand, ready to mop up Mr. Creel’s mess as he pointedly ignored the old man’s whispered insults. “Take a breather, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”
You didn’t hesitate, scampering away with coffee sodden sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. You’d have to thank Steve later, the tears were close to falling and you were adamant they wouldn’t escape while you were still on the diner floor. So you barrelled into the kitchen without much thought, not bothering to yell ‘doors’ or ‘corner,’ just desperate to get out of sight. It was a slow morning, a few pancakes on the griddle, some leftover waffle batter in a bowl by the stove, another one full of eggs beside it. Apart from the sounds of food cooking, sizzles, pops, the sound of the radio, it was quiet. 
Pushing your back to the tiled wall, you weren’t able to do much to escape the heat that always filled the kitchen. The back of your uniform scratched at your neck, an itchy warmth that stuck to your skin and made the tears come a little easier as Mr. Creel’s words echoed in your head. You knew it wasn’t worth overthinking - everyone had warned you that the man was a perpetual thunder cloud, always gloomy, always looking for an excuse to yell. But still, you blinked one too many times and your glassy eyes spilled over, lashes sticking together with tears as you stuttered over a heaving breath. Your face scrunched, falling with too much emotion and you made a noise akin to a whimper, a wet sounding thing that you could keep in. 
You didn’t hear someone come back in from the fire exit, the brief smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the heat and the fiery barbecue scent of lunch hours brisket cooking. Eddie scowled at the sight of you by his station, back to the wall, hip pressed to the stainless steel table. Your head was bowed, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes and when he turned down the radio - just slightly - he could hear you sniff. 
The boy frowned, somewhat uncomfortable, that crinkle that was always between his brows deepening. He used his wrist to sweep the hair out of his eyes and he gestured to the walk-in behind you, even though you couldn’t see. "Uh, normally we cry in the freezer."
You looked up, mortified. Your cheeks were red hot, a burn from the embarrassment of being caught and the frustration from the customer who was surely still at the bar, uncaring of the state he’d put you in. 
You sniffed, swiping hastily at your cheeks. "What?"
The boy sighed, an impatient noise that Robin had already told you not to take offence to. He nodded at the freezer again, lowering the heat on whatever it was he was cooking in a comically large pot. "In there. That's where we have our breakdowns."
You stood, aimless, wondering what you were supposed to do with that information. The freezer? Wouldn't Hopper be looking for you?
The boy scrunched his face in annoyance and you thought he was going to return to his recipe, but he turned off the burner and rounded the station. He tilted his chin at you, signalling you to follow. "C'mon, come wi' me," he murmured. 
It was the most he’d said to you since the day you’d turned up with your resumes and some hope in your chest. You blinked, watching Eddie stomp down the aisle between the stations, big combat boots a strange congrats to his chef whites. You ran a little to catch up, hip catching the corner of a cart filled with fresh fruit and a bowl of proofed dough, trying not to stumble into the back of the boy. You almost did when he stopped dead and pulled at the door of the giant walk-in, a wall of cold air hitting your both square in the face. 
Stacks of frozen food sat on metal shelves, lines of cut meats, boxes of iced over vegetables, already cut and prepped. Eddie waved a hand inside, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath turned visible as the temperature dropped by twenty degrees, ice cold and raising goosebumps on your arms. You half expected Eddie to shut the door and leave you alone, but you were surprised when he walked in after you, the soft thump of the door closing after him. 
Silence enveloped you both, the noise of the kitchen, the broken AC, the diner all disappearing. You breathed out a sigh of relief, breath crystallising between you and the boy who was eyeing you warily, wondering if you were going to keep crying. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned against a shelf and tugged a rag from his back pocket, wiping off his hands. 
It was easier to breathe without the heat of the diner, the constant steam from the kitchen, the way the sun hit the windows and made the whole place too hot. The boy watched you, still cautious, waiting for your chest to stop heaving and you to stop sniffling. When you did, he peered at you through his bangs. 
“Better?”
Still embarrassed, you swiped hastily at your cheeks and tried to pretend you weren’t crying, wiping the evidence of the apron that held your pad and pen- and now splashes from Mr. Creel’s coffee tantrum. “Yeah, m’fine. Thanks.”
The boy nodded, lips pressed together as if he didn’t know what else to say. Neither did you, still hot cheeked and mortified, staring wide eyed at the freezer door and for a brief second, you wondered if the rest of the diner would hear you from behind the thick freezer door if you just so happened to let out a yell. Maybe that’s why Eddie said this was the breakdown space. You guessed you’d find out sooner than you thought. 
And just as you were getting ready to push the door back open, Eddie peered up at you from where he was busy inspecting a silver scar on his wrist. “Creel’s a real asshole, don’t let him get to you.”
Surprised, you stopped in your tracks and turned. The leftover tears on your cheeks weren’t quite ice, but they left cold trails across your face that felt too obvious. You pushed against the apple of your cheek once more, fingers digging in a little too meanly as you tried to get rid of the evidence that Eddie already saw. “I know,” you nodded. You sniffed again. “Just— took me by surprise, that’s all.”
Eddie nodded slowly, like he was thinking over your words. “You gotta toughen up, kid.” He swept by you, lemongrass and some cologne that was hidden behind the smell of basil and spice. His shoulder knocked yours. “Told you you wouldn’t last in the kitchen.”
—————
Some would call it stubbornness, others would call it spiteful, but you were more determined than ever to fit in and work hard at the diner. Eddie’s comment made a lasting effect on you and you tried every day to smile through the shit and be a little bolder, leaving the shyness behind with Chicago and every other failed opportunity. Plus, the tips came a little easier if you flashed a smile and some flirt. 
You cleaned up the smashed burgers and soggy fries that were smeared into the floor after a family of tourists swept through the restaurant, you wiped down tables, refilled the salt shakers and when you collected orders from Eddie at the kitchen hatch, you made sure to use the towel to pick up the hot plates. The last time you’d suffered a burn, Eddie had rolled his eyes and scoffed. But when you came back for the next order a few minutes later, an ice pack was sitting waiting. 
“You okay?” Robin’s side nudged up against yours in greeting at the cutlery station, familiar and friendly. 
You smiled, nodding, wrapping napkins around knives and forks. Robin picked up a bundle to help and you could tell by her unsettled fidgeting, she wanted to ask something. “Are you okay?” 
The girl made a face and squinted at you, all nervous charm and nervousness. “Yeah, yeah— I’m good. So good. It’s just, uh—”
You blinked, waiting, both of you moving out of the way when Jonathan appeared with a set of headphones over his ears, grinning at you both as he dumped more clean cutlery into the drawers. 
“—you know how it was both of us on the late tonight?” Robin continued once Jonathan disappeared. You nodded, still sorting out the utensils, frowning when the freshly cleaned sets burned your fingertips. “Well, I kinda got asked on a date tonight and oh my god, okay, like, I know you’re new but I’ve been waiting on this girl literally forever and—”
It was easy to smile at Robin’s enthusiastic rambling, your shoulders losing the tension they usually held as you listened to her talk. “Who is it?” You asked curiously. 
“It’s like, holy shit? She’s interested in me? I mean— oh.” Robin cut herself off after she realised you’d spoken. Her cheeks burned, pink covering her freckles and she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed at her own excitement. “Nancy.”
You beamed and nodded, already knowing about the flirting that went on during their shared shifts, the way Robin looked at the other girl, the way Steve rolled his eyes fondly behind his friend's back.  
“That’s sweet,” you told the girl, happy for her. “You guys goin’ somewhere nice?”
“Uh, yeah,” Robin smiled, bashful, before she flicked her gaze to you again, nerves kicking back in. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask. Would you mind if I left early?” The girl gestured to the quiet diner, a little more peaceful now the dinner rush was over. “I know I was supposed to stay until close with you, but this show starts at like, nine? So I was just wondering if it’d be okay with you if I—”
You cut the girl off with a hand to her forearm, stopping her nervous gesturing. You smiled again. “Hey, it’s totally okay. I can handle it.”
She grinned, face lighting up with genuine happiness as she squealed and grabbed your arms, pulling you into a crushing hug despite the bundles of cutlery you held to your chest. But her excitement was contagious and you grinned too, happy to have made Robin happy, happier to feel like you had a real friend. 
“I owe you!” She gasped, “thank you so much! You’re on with Eddie ‘til close, and maybe Jonathan? It’ll be fine! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She gushed as she pulled off her apron and rushed to the office. 
The rest of the time  went quietly, as did most of the graveyard shifts. Families and couples left after eight and as the evening headed towards night, the clock approaching twelve, the diner was empty apart from one lone trucker in the corner nursing an extra black coffee and a cinnamon roll. So you headed into the kitchen with the last of the plates, proud of the way you balanced all five of them over your forearms, only wobbling a little. You even remembered to call out as you pushed the door open, even though there wasn’t much happening. 
The hustle and bustle had slowed to a lazy stroll, the radio still on but much quieter, another sixties song crooning from the speakers. Eddie was washing down his station, knives sharpened and put away, the stovetop grills seeping in the sink full of bubbles. 
“Floors have just been mopped,” he told you without looking up. “Careful.”
You nodded, always startled when he spoke, his voice much softer than he looked. It was honeyed whisky, syrupy smooth. You managed to slide the dishes into an empty sink without much fanfare - nothing spilled, nothing smashed - and you were planning on refilling the ketchup dispenser when your stomach growled, unreasonably loud. 
You clamped a hand over it, an awful flush crawling up the back of your neck that you knew too well. Embarrassed, you tried to laugh it off, avoiding Eddie’s gaze when his head shot up. Wide eyed, he appraised you, watching as you gave him a wide berth as you shot for the door. Before you could make a break for it, the cook dropped his cleaning rag and sighed. 
“Have you ate?”
You stopped, almost tipping over your own feet as you spun back round to face him. You wondered if you misheard him, if he was maybe talking to someone else in the kitchen you hadn’t noticed but Jonathan was whistling outside of the kitchen hatch, cleaning down the coffee machine and no one else was on shift. 
Still, you asked, “what?”
Eddie frowned, like he was upset about repeating himself. But he was already pulling a chopping board out from the racks underneath the workbench. “I said, have you ate? You sound like a dying whale.”
If you weren’t so mortified, you think you would’ve been offended. You hadn’t eaten though, not since you’d managed to shovel a bag of chips into your mouth between a bus load of tourists stopping off for a milkshake and Jim’s famous wings. But you weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to know so you shrugged, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t showing on your face.  
The boy just sighed, like he always did, and gestured to a stool that sat across from his station. “Sit,” he ordered gruffly before pulling out half of a baked loaf from earlier. “You like mustard?”
“What’re you doing?” You hadn’t moved, standing shell shocked by the door, your stomach still yelling at you. 
Eddie turned to you with that same frown, forever looking annoyed at your presence. Now he was brandishing a butter knife, more curls than ever escaping his bun. He really should wear a hairnet. 
“What’s it look like?” He grunted. He pointed at the stool once more. “C’mon. Mustard?”
You walked over slowly, like you were approaching something wild and unpredictable. Maybe you were. The stool squeaked as it scraped across the tiles, and you eyed the boy warily as you pushed yourself onto the chair across from him. “Sure,” you mumbled, watching as he slathered slices of sourdough with mustard and a little mayonnaise. 
“You should eat properly.” Eddie scowled. “You don’t eat nothin’, gonna make yourself pass out in this heat.”
You seemed to forget your shyness as you frowned right back. “How would you know?” You demanded. 
Eddie scoffed and suddenly you forgot altogether that you and this boy didn’t really talk. He was rolling his eyes at you as he layered on some cheddar cheese and salami, not asking you before he added some prosciutto and lettuce. “Because you scramble in and out of here all day chasin’ your own tail. I watched you inhale that bag of chips earlier like a goddamn raccoon.”
You squirmed not loving the comparison but knowing that he probably wasn’t far off in terms of likeness. But still, your frown matched his. “I don’t scramble,” you murmured. 
Eddie scoffed, a breathy, disbelieving thing that made him raise his eyebrows. He was moving around his station with a grace you couldn’t fathom, speedy and gentle with each movement. He drizzled a little honey over the second slice of bread before stacking it on top, an impressive display of flavour in each layer before he sliced it down the middle. 
“Oh, yes you do,” Eddie shot back. “Like a squirrel.” He placed the sandwich on a plate Jonathan had already cleaned and pushed it towards you before deciding to add another little pot of honey beside it. 
“I thought I was a raccoon?” You asked him before you could help yourself. “Thank you,” you added quickly, looking down at the plate. Your stomach grumbled again, your mouth watered. 
Eddie shrugged, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “Either rodent will do,” he told you. “And you’re welcome. Now eat.”
You didn’t argue anymore, tucking into your snack with a shy sort of wariness. You’d hardly spoken to the boy before now and yet here he was, preparing you food. Just a sandwich, but it took more effort than any snack you’d ever made yourself. You took a bite, eyes closing at the flavour and you hummed in appreciation. When you opened them again, Eddie was at the sink, his back to you but you could see from the tilt of his head that showed off how he watched you from the side of his eyes. 
“Oh my god—” you cut yourself off, humming again, a delighted little noise that you couldn’t help let out. “This is amazing.”
You ate until Eddie was done cleaning, using your crusts to dip into the honey, mopping up everything off your plate until it was empty, your legs swinging happily from the stool. If you were alone, you would’ve danced.  You were sure you saw him fight a smile as he returned to the bench, brows raised at your full cheeks, your happy eyes, the crumbs on his once clean station. 
“Squirrel to chipmunk,” he noted, gaze trailing over your face. You swallowed quickly, cheeks heating up once again and you dropped your eye line to the table as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Good?” He asked. 
“Delicious,” you told him with a nod. “Thank you. Again. You didn’t have to do that.”
Eddie swung a dish towel over his shoulder and ducked his head, curls falling loose around his face and you watched as he slid his clean equipment back into their rightful place. “Was just a sandwich, no big deal.”
It was just a sandwich. But you’d soon come to realise it was something so much bigger than you’d ever have thought. 
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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
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Yandere! GILF Headcanons
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Warnings: Implied Smut, Older Man/Younger Reader, Age Gap, Spanking, Jealous Dominic, Manipulation, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
♡ Hector had only loved once before meeting you. Likewise, he had only loved once after meeting you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in you.
♡ On the contrary, when Dominic had pulled up to the sprawling manor Hector orchestrated, expecting to see Marilyn at his side yet seeing an unfamiliar face in her stead, his curiosity was, admittedly, peaked. No small achievement considering this man has done and seen everything this world has to offer.
♡ Dominic explained – in monotone French – that Marilyn was sick, hence she couldn’t come. He’d brought you – a family friend – in her place. You couldn’t ignore the waver in his voice, his pointed stare up at his father, who resided in an almost throne-like armchair behind a mahogany desk.
♡ Hector looked through Dominic and gazed at you. You could see now where Dominic’s predilection for sharp, underhanded stares originated; the founding father of Dominic’s cold architecture.
♡ You felt as if his eyes combed over your very being, unravelling all the tangles in your make-up and laying you down to your most base, threadbare foundations, seeing you for what you really were.
♡ “Very well,” the older man grumbled, only taking his eyes off you once Dominic cleared his throat. Beside you, his son’s fingers twitched. 
♡ You were excused shortly after with Dominic taking you outside, almost jogging down the steps with a haste you’d never witnessed before, and bringing you to a most isolated spot. You’d noticed a collection of staff – chefs, maids, caretakers, gardeners – crawling about the mansion. None of them resided near you now.
♡ “Don’t talk to him unless you’re with me,“ Dominic warned. In his eyes watched a man you’d never seen before. Something vaguely…human in the colour of his irises. Warm. Afraid.
♡ Interaction with Dominic’s father – Hector – was uncomfortable at first. You’d tried to juggle Hector’s hostile hospitality with Dominic’s warnings, ultimately toing and forming between the two since they never inhabited the same space for more than ten minutes whenever meals were served.
♡ One day, when Dominic had to leave the manor on important  business, unable to take you with him, he’d instructed you to stay in your room. He tried to smooth over the jagged brickwork of his command with a suave charm that could put the incarnation of panic at ease, but you could tell – for perhaps the first time – that it felt false.
♡ Dominic left. Hours passed. You grew bored.
♡ You left your room.
♡ And who did you happen to meet whilst trawling the halls, searching for any form of entertainment?
♡ Why, the very man Dominic had forbidden you from seeing.
♡ Hector came down the hall on certain footing, obviously having taken great care of his mobility in his younger years to be able to traverse the many staircases and rooms this residence held. So why did he have so many caretakers?
♡ You scarcely had time to wonder as, before you could hide, he spotted you. Ordered you to come to him. You did, hesitant. He gave you a monotone look.
♡ “You. Come with me.”
♡ You followed him to a door that felt familiar. Inside, his study. On his desk, a pre-set game of chess. He sat at his desk. He motioned for you to join him.
♡ You, with a pounding heart and a strong sense of being out of place, played chess. Hector taught you the best way to win – “For when you compete against Dominic.”
♡ You bantered, lethargic at first, until you found even footing on subjects that weren't just Hector’s only son.
♡ You wondered what it was about his father that Dominic was so keen to isolate you from, to conceal from you.
♡ Nothing you cared for, honestly. Especially when Hector showed you just how solid his sense of humour was, how intelligent he was. How lively he could be despite his initial coldness.
♡ Of course, he was still icy, very blunt most of the time. But you could tell it wasn’t his choice – he was made this way. By who or what, you couldn’t be sure. But what you did know was that you weren’t about to let Dominic’s personal vendetta ruin your budding friendship with his father.
♡ No longer did you hide from Hector’s judgement as you scampered back to your room, the shutting of the front door reverberating through the manor’s great walls; you sought refuge from Dominic’s as he came storming down the hallway, his footfalls faster than he’d have liked them to be as he rushed to check on your condition, to see you after being forced to leave you in his father’s un-care.
♡ After that, you made more of an effort to see Hector. Especially as you had few other people to talk to – Dominic especially as he seemed more and more swept up in sudden business meetings and last-minute supply chain issues.
♡ The longer you spent in Hector’s presence – in the garden, in the library, in his study for more games of chess – the more you began to see slivers of him in Dominic. Scratchings of silver beneath rock; the inclinations of a vein of purest ore.
♡ Though, that did not mean the metal that lay dormant beneath was pure in itself.
♡ On the contrary, when you weren’t around, Hector made full – and I mean full – use of the maids, caretakers and staff at his disposal. Anyone who bore a similar enough resemblance to you was subject to any manner of his objectification.
♡ Lasting stares, increasingly lewd requests, commands to snoop through the few personal belongings you’ve brought with you – the sort of thing any powerful older man will do for the object of their affections.
♡ Sexual matters aren’t off the table, either.
♡ Far from it. 
♡ In fact, it’s bent over the edge of Hector’s desk, whining and whimpering and at the mercy of a man far more experienced than his old age could belie.
♡ He’s so nasty with it, too. He knows his workers will do anything he asks of them – for the right price. And he’s got nothing but money to burn.
♡ God forbid his most recent toy talks back to him, lest they be subject to a thorough spanking by Hector’s belt.
♡ He’s still more than capable of getting himself off without the assistance of his employees, though. He just enjoys the power he has over them. Enjoys the taste of the influence he’ll have over you.
♡ Guy’s a wealthy man, he’s got cameras everywhere. And Dominic knows this. Hence he’s always around to cover you up when you’re getting changed – even if it makes him look somewhat questionable. 
♡ You’re for his eyes only, but he knows his father will find a way to try and sneak a peek of you – to show Dominic that, while in his house, you’re both under his rules.
♡ As was the case now as Hector requested for you come to his study for afternoon tea.
♡ While there, making light conversation, he dropped a question that hung, heavy, between you in a way you couldn’t quite describe/
♡ “Did I ever tell you,” began Hector, knowing full-well he’s not once recounted this tale to you. His old age will afford him the disguise of senility, if only for a short while. You’ll listen, politely.
♡ “About Dominic’s mother?”
♡ You tell him no, that not even Dominic has ever mentioned his mother – or his family – to you before. Hector hummed. Grumbled, more so.
♡ The void in his chest sank lower as he recalled to you the greatest love of his life.
♡ “Too good for this world,” he said, regaling her acts of altruism, of philanthropy. “Someone upstairs must’ve known it, too.”
♡ You had a feeling that ‘upstairs’ transcended far beyond the many dusty rooms Hector had advised you and Dominic not to go exploring during your time here.
♡ He told you, with practiced malcontent, how Dominic’s birth would be his mother’s un-birth; her escort from this life to the next. Hector sniffed, though not for tears. You still jolted forward to comfort him, though.
♡ And he wasn't one to reject your offer.
♡ The portrait of his wife – young and beautiful for a cruel infinity – watched over the two of you.
♡ “So you see,” he continued, “That’s why Dominic doesn’t visit – or I’m willing to guess, talk about – me as much as you perhaps do with your parents.”
♡ Of course, you understood perfectly where he was coming from. Something in him grinned at the idea of even a drop of a villainous hue staining Dominic’s curated disguise, making him scrub and scrub at the veneer until it wore away and revealed the corpse beneath piloted by parasites.
♡ You tell Hector that if he ever wants to talk, you’re always down to listen. Hector grants you a small smile. Artificial warmth. Gently, he slides his hand atop yours, pats it.
♡ You are the singular object his son desires. Hence, you are the object he shall steal from him, for there is no better form of discipline than loss.
♡ And Hector wants Dominic to know what it’s like to lose everything.
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msschemmenti · 2 months
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valentines date auction
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a/n: please do not fight me... i meant to finish and post this before valentine's days. i also started this like 9 months ago. i'm working through my drafts, bear with me please.
prompt: ava convinces the staff to throw a valentine's day fling to raise money for the school.
“So this year to bring in some extra money, I’ve come up with a brilliant idea. I think you’re all going to love it because it involves all of my favorite things.” Ava announced at the mic with a smile causing the teachers to roll their eyes. 
“Get on with it.” Melissa called from her seat in the gym. Barbara leaned over to swat her thigh as a warning but Melissa wasn’t too worried about her when she felt the younger woman on her other side shaking with giggles at her comment. Y/n Y/Ln, Abbott Elementary’s new PE teacher. She’d been working there since the start of the school year and she was approaching her first year with Abbott. She’d somehow wormed her way into the core group of teachers at Abbott and she unknowingly wormed her way into the forefront of Melissa Schemmenti’s mind. 
“We’re doing a Valentine’s Day Date Auction!” Ava grinned as she clicked to another slide on her powerpoint. “I’ll be auctioning off dates with our most attractive staff! And before you ask if this is legal, I don’t care. It’s for the children. So who wants in?” The room filled with concerned silence as no one made a move to sign up. “Oh don’t act like you people are getting dates on your own. This could be great for you,” At the continued silence Ava sighed, “Fine, the dates will be to wherever you like with a credit to handle the cost. It’s a free outing, people.” 
There’s a bit more bite and people’s hands started to raise in agreement. Melissa and Barb both shook their heads as Ava wrote people’s names down. “I can’t believe anyone is agreeing to this.” Melissa groaned.
“Who’re you telling, girlfriend? My Gerald would never participate in an auction like this and that’s the only man I’ll ever go on a date with.” 
“It must be so nice to not have to go through the whole courting stage anymore. It’s so exhausting trying to find a date nowadays.” Y/n grumbled crossing her legs as she leaned over to speak to Barb. 
“Oh don’t tell me you struggle to find a date?” Melissa eyed suspiciously. 
“Oh yeah. It’s hard out here. It’s so hard in fact that I will be the grand finale of this auction.” Y/n grimaced as both of the older women eyed her in shock.
“You’re up for sale?” Melissa asked incredulously. 
“Not for sale, more like for rent.” Y/n corrected causing both women to roll their eyes. “Oh come on, it’s for a good cause and I get a free meal out of it. There aren’t really any cons. I could meet my wife.” 
Barb seemed to be sold a bit on the idea, but the redhead was still on the fence. She and the PE teacher had been doing a bit of a flirtatious tango all year and she could never really tell if she was serious or not. Melissa had gotten to a point in her life where she really didn’t question who she was attracted to anymore, but she hadn’t figured out how to tell who was seriously attracted to her yet. Casual flirting aside, Melissa really didn’t know what Y/n’s type was. And she definitely didn’t have the guts to find out if she was her type. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see her auctioned off to some young philly broad.
“Plus it was either me or Gregory. He looked like he was going to have a heartattack when Ava asked which of us was going to seal the deal. I do what I can to keep you core teachers alive.” Y/n smirked with a final shrug. That caused both older women to chuckle, one easier than the other, but Y/n didn’t seemed to notice the confliction on Melissa’s face. 
Once Ava was satisfied with the number of teachers on her Valentine’s Day Auction roster, she closed the meeting out and release the teachers to their evenings. She hurried down the steps of the steps of the stage to catch Y/n as she stood up from her seat next to Melissa. 
“Y/n, how do you feel about dressing up as a construction worker?” Ava asked excitedly as she pulled up a picture on her phone. 
“Absolutely not. You’ll be lucky if I show up in something other than a track suit.” Y/n said pushing the woman’s phone away from her face. 
“What about-” Ava started. 
“No.” Y/n cut her off with her best smile. She reached up and patted Ava’s shoulder with a shake of her head. “Keep asking and I won’t show up at all.” That last threat seemed shut Ava up with a grumble. She sulked off with her roster and headed for her office as everyone readied themselves to go home for the night. Y/n looked at the two veteran teachers with smiles, “Alright ladies, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Have a great evening.” 
“You too Y/n.” Barbara smiled as she head for the door, Melissa trailing behind a bit as she caught the PE teachers eyes. 
“See ya kid.” Melissa called, causing the younger teacher to shoot a wink over her shoulder as she moved to help Mr. Johnson clear the chairs from the gym. Melissa’s cheeks heated as she rounded the corner out of them gym and fell in step with Barb. They briefly parted to lock up their classrooms and when they hit the couple of steps outside of the school Melissa was shocked for the second time within the last hour. 
“So are you gonna bid on Y/n or tell her how you feel before the auction?” Barb asked with a knowing smirk.
“What?” Melissa asked incredulously trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks. 
“Oh don’t play dumb with me. You’ve been all but drooling over her for the better part of the school year. I don’t think I can watch it for much longer. This is your chance to make a move. She said it herself, she’s single and very much looking. So much so that she’s agreed to auction off and evening with herself. What can you need?” 
“Maybe any sort of indication that she feels the same way? I mean yeah we casually flirt, but how am I suppose to pursue anything if the whole thing was just a joke to her?” Melissa scowled.
“I highly doubt that’s the case. Do you know how many times Ava has attempted to do that whole flirting thing with her? Or the amount of parents, suddenly concerned with the PE curriculum. She hasn’t shown anyone as much attention as she consistently shows you.” Barb listed as Gerald pulled into the lot next Melissa’s car. Barbara smiled and waved at her husband before turning to look at her friend, “You’ve got to make a move girlfriend, before one of these parents snatch your chance at the auction.”
Melissa grumbles but heads to her home to think over what her friend said. She hated how right Barb sounded.
-
The Valentine’s Auction came much sooner than anyone was ready for. The morning of the event seemed to have the entire teachers lounge buzzing with excitement and trepidation. Janine, ever the chatty Kathy had taken to questioning everyone on what they planned to wear tonight. As soon as Y/n entered the room, Janine was up and buzzing. 
“Oh Y/n! What are you wearing tonight?” The shorter woman bounced on her heels next to the PE teacher as she doctored up a mug of tea. 
“Why? What have you heard?” Y/n asked suspiciously, hoping Ava hasn’t somehow told everyone about her costume ideas.
“Well I just want to make sure I’m not the only one wearing festive things. And I wanna make sure we’re not wearing the same thing of course. Wouldn’t want the fashion police to have a ‘who wore better’ moment.” Janine rambled and Y/n nodded following as much as she could. 
“Oh. I don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple pink tracksuits that might really draw people in.” Y/n chuckled taking her seat next to Melissa with a grin. “What do you think, is Nike sexy enough to secure a date with a Philly eleven like yourself?” 
Melissa rolled her eyes at Barbs foot kicking her under the table, “I’m sure you could pull a Philly eleven wearing far less than a pink Nike tracksuit.”
Y/n smiled and winked at the older teacher before turning her attention back to Janine, “Listen Janine. I highly doubt we’ll be wearing the same thing but don’t worry, I’ll have something within the valentines color scheme on.” The second grade teacher nodded, heading back to her seat. 
“So you’re both coming tonight right?” Y/n asked hopefully. 
“Yep, Gerald and I will be there. I wouldn’t want to miss seeing you meet your date.” Barb smiled with raised eyebrows. 
“How about you Red? Gonna be there to bail me out if some crazy bids on me?” Y/n asked.
“Anything for you, hun.” Melissa smiled, knowing those words held a lot more weight than she was letting on. 
“Good. I’ll see you both later than.” Y/n smiled squeezing Melissa’s shoulder affectionately before heading to the gym. 
-
“Welcome to the Avalentine’s Day Auction! We’re so glad you could all join us for our fundraising event this school year. As you know, Abbott is always looking for ways to better our school for your students and with that in mind, I hope you brought your checkbooks and rich friends because we’ve got some sexy staff members ready to go home with you all for a good cause.” Ava smiled looking out over the crowd. 
As Ava stood on the stage, Melissa sat in a table toward the back of the room with Barb, Gerald, and Gregory. Jacob and Janine were off scoping the potential bidders out. She herself was scoping the room out as well, but she was mostly looking for Y/n. She hadn’t seen her since that morning and part of her was much more desperate to see her than she usually allowed herself. It didn’t help that she had brought her checkbook and knew a part of her was willing to drain her savings to keep Y/n from going out with one of these young broads. As if she realized she looked ridiculous scanning the room, Melissa turned back to her table companions. Janine and Jacob came back shortly after Melissa pulled herself from her own search. Janine panting out of breath and Jacob grinning mischievously ready to spill the details of their crowd search. 
“There are quite a few people here. And we heard a lot of interest.”
“Interest in the two of you?” Melissa found herself asking. She didn’t mean to sound so shocked but it just came out that way. Both of the younger teachers shrank a bit but recovered when the redhead looked apologetic.
“Not exactly. Most of the women here are torn between being disappointed Gregory isn’t up there and excited that Y/n is. Speaking of, has anyone see her? I wanna see what outfit she went with.” Jacob said rising from his seat to scan the room. Oblivious to the panic he’d cause within Melissa. 
“Oh there she is, damn! She cleans up nice.” Janine called as she drew the groups attention to the doors to the gym. And Melissa damn near forgot how to breathe. Y/n paused in the doorway scanning the room, for their group presumably, but she was dressed in something none of them had ever seen her in. Gone were her trainers, baggy sweats, and matching hoodie sets. She was clad in fitted high waisted trousers and a matching vest top that showed just enough skin to have Melissa’s mind running. Her hair was held back by a red head band that matched her red ankle boots and leather jacket. Melissa was at a true loss for words. Y/n spotted the group and started making her way over with a smile. 
Before she could get too close Melissa felt Barb’s hand cup her chin and push up, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” She teased lightly causing Gerald to chuckle. 
Tonight was going to be a long long night. And she knew in her heart she might leave broker than she already was. 
-
“Alright ladies, this last one is for you!” Ava grinned as she motioned for Y/n to come up to the stage. 
The PE teacher grimaced and looked at the people at her table nervously, “Wish me luck.” She called before leaving to be paraded around the stage. She made it to the stairs and as she came into the view for the room, the cheers followed. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment but she trudged on reminding herself of the cause and the prospect of a decent meal on Ava’s dime. 
“Last but certainly not least. The finest thing to happen to Abbott Elementary since I became principal. Our PE teacher, Y/n Y/Ln! Strut your stuff boo!” Ava introduced causing the room to erupt further. And Melissa’s scowl to set. 
“She’s very fit as you can see. Super funny and super hot. She could probably bench you. Let’s start the bidding at $50?” Ava started. That didn’t last long though. Hands and paddles shot up eagerly at the price. So far, no one had gone for over $150, but Ava had a feeling Y/n was going to be the exception. 
“Can I get a $100 then? $150? $200?” Ava called and some hands dropped but there were still quite a few waving in the air. Ava motioned for Y/n to do a spin on the stage and she obliged if only to make the whole thing go a bit faster. 
“Alright how about $300?” That seemed to do it and there was one hand left up. Y/n recognized her, Lauren Williams. She’d been one of the first people to schedule a meeting with Y/n when she started claiming her son had some health issues that may impact his participation in the gym class. After the first meeting, it was very clear her son had no problems and it was really just a ploy to get the gym teacher alone. She’d been dodging her since she started and she really wasn’t looking forward to how this was going. 
“300 going once, going twice…” Ava called waving the bedazzled gavel she’d gotten herself. Until a familiar hand shot up at the back table. “I see 350? Alright Schemmenti, I see you.” Ava grinned. “Do I hear 400?” Lauren’s hand was back up, quickly. “450? Anyone?” 
All eyes shifted to Melissa to see her contemplation before she waved her hand again and Ava squealed in delight. Everyone of the teachers at the table looked at her incredulously but her eyes were darting between Lauren’s head and the stage.
“450 going once, going twice, and…” Before Ava could even finish, Lauren shot to her feet and called out. 
“500!” Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock. 
“What?” Y/n asked in shock. Eyes goes to Ava in alarm. $500 for a date with her was absolutely insane. Anyone willing to pay that had to b crazy.
“Sold!” Ava grinned. And the room erupted in applause.
-
Melissa was sulking in her seat when Y/n finally returned to table. She couldn’t believe she’d been outbid like that. Part of her was happy considering she wasn’t really prepared for the financial consequences of this little auction, but that didn’t make her forget the date Y/n would be going on with Lauren. Everyone else was scattered around the gym. Dancing with their dates, eating the refreshments, or playing the various valentine’s day them games that they had set up. The redhead didn’t look up when the younger teacher joined her but she knew exactly who had joined her even without looking.
“Damn red, if you wanted to go out with me that bad you could’ve just asked me. I wouldn’t have charged $500 for one night. I might’ve made you cook for me, but five big ones is asking a bit much especially when I actually like you.” Y/n said taking a sip of the punch they were serving. Melissa gazed at the younger woman a little dumbfounded but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued to talk. “Lauren and I are gonna go mini golfing Saturday morning, yuck I know. But I was thinking you and I could do dinner Saturday, if you’re not busy. That way I can get that out of the way. Do you she’ll try to kill me? I’m a little scared and I know I said there were no cons but that was before she basically jumped on the table to ensure she could spend $500 on an hour of my time…” Y/n continued to ramble. 
Melissa had no choice but to laugh as she listened. “Is this you asking me out?” The older woman finally interrupted, trying to play it cool. 
“I didn’t think I needed to ask you formally, since you almost spent $1,000 to keep me from going out with someone else.” Y/n grinned as she finally faced Melissa. 
“Oh you’re exaggerating now.” Melissa scoffed as her cheeks heated a bit. 
“Well duh, who else can say they had a Philly eleven start a bidding war over them. I’m going to milk this as much as I can. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. Melissa Schemmenti almost emptied her bank account for me.”
“Oh shut it will you.” Melissa groaned and shoved the younger teacher playfully. “The answer is yes. Even if you don’t think you need to ask me formally. I’d love to do dinner Saturday night. And any other night you’d like.” 
“Good. Cause I can be very hungry. And all I’ve heard is that you’re like the best cook in Philly.” Y/n grinned scooting her folding chair over closer to Melissa’s. 
“Oh you’re in for a treat. And a Schemmenti meal is worth well over five hundred bucks.” Melissa teased. 
“Yeah, well so are you Red.” Y/n smiled softly leaning over to kiss Melissa’s blushing cheek sweetly. 
Outbid but extremely happy.
325 notes · View notes
theemporium · 9 months
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people requested a part two to this wee blurb so here it is because i desperately need some fluff to cope with today's race!!🤠
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Despite his insistence, Daniel didn’t think you would actually take up his offer. 
He had been dragged around the paddock and the media pen, attending different interviews and conferences and all the other shenanigans media day on a race weekend ensured. And, much to his dismay, he hadn’t seen you once since that morning. 
He assumed you were locked away in some room in the motorhome, most likely drowning in graphs and data sheets from the last few races as you and your colleagues discussed what the best plan of action for the cars would be this weekend. 
He was surprised when he knocked on the engineering staff’s doors, only for every single team member to tell him that they hadn’t seen you since the last meeting. 
Daniel would be lying if he said his concern didn’t grow—especially when his messages to you came back unanswered. 
He found himself running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping by other team’s garages to see if you had stopped by. A move that was ultimately useless because he couldn’t find you and all he got was shit from other drivers. 
“Lost your girl, lover boy?” Lando had teased, the nickname somehow having made its way around the paddock—probably by Max himself. 
“Shut up, Norris,” Daniel grumbled, and it was a shock to a lot of the paddock to see the Aussie driver so grumpy. 
He had convinced himself that maybe you had headed back to the hotel early and quickly raced back to his driver’s room, prepared to grab his stuff and bolt before someone could drag him into another media duty, only to fall short when he caught the sight in front of him. 
You were lying on the couch, still bundled up in his hoodie with your arms tucked under your head as a pillow, looking far more peaceful than you did that morning. 
His face instantly softened, and he quickly glanced down the hall before he closed the door behind him, making his way toward the couch until he was kneeling beside you. 
“Sunshine,” he murmured softly, reaching to gently shake your shoulder but you remained fast asleep. He frowned a little, wondering just how little sleep you had gotten the night before to be so tired during the day. 
He muttered your name this time, a little louder and when he shook you, he found you slowly blinking your eyes open. 
You let out a soft whine, nuzzling your face further into your arms and Daniel smiled a little at the sight. 
“C’mon, sunshine, if you sleep any longer, you won’t be able to sleep tonight,” he grinned down at you, watching as you lifted your head to stare at him. 
“Danny?” you murmured sleepily before everything clicked. Realisation dawned on you and you quickly tried to get up, ignoring the rush to your head from moving so quick. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”
“Hey, hey,” he frowned and placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from getting up. “It’s fine, I said you could nap in my room for a reason.” 
“I wasn’t meant to, I—” you paused, letting out a sigh. “I just came here to wait for you until you finished up. I must’ve fallen asleep.” 
Daniel didn’t bother hiding his grin. “You were waiting for me, sunshine?” 
Your cheeks burned but you nodded. “I was gonna offer to get you dinner, to say thank you.” 
The Aussie’s grin widened. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you murmured before tucking your chin against your chest. “But you’re probably busy so I’ll just—”
“Woah, woah, woah, not so fast, sunshine,” Daniel pushed you back onto the couch before you could get up, still kneeling in front of you. “Who said I was too busy to get dinner with a pretty girl like you?” 
You could’ve sworn your body was on fire at this point, and a part of you wondered how much Daniel enjoyed making you squirm. 
“You gotta stop saying stuff like that, Ricciardo,” you laughed, hoping the nerves in your voice weren’t obvious. “Or else I might start getting the wrong idea.”
“And what idea would that be?” he asked, his eyes never once leaving yours.
Yet, you found yourself unable to reply.
“Because I would hope that the girl I like is starting to catch the hint that I have been flirting with her for the last few months,” he announced, so casually that for a second you thought you imagined it.
You blinked. “What?”
Daniel grinned. “Did you actually not hear me or do you just wanna hear me say I like you again, sunshine?” 
Your face softened. “You like me?” 
“Of course I do,” he murmured, his hands resting on your knees as he gave them a soft squeeze. “Thought I was being pretty obvious with it.” 
“Not obvious enough,” you muttered.
“The boys would think otherwise,” Daniel snorted. “Now, how about you get that pretty ass up and we get some dinner so I can tell you all about how much I like you?”
You laughed. “My treat, Ricciardo.”
Daniel scoffed, pushing himself to stand up before offering his hand to you. “You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m letting you pay, sunshine.” 
“How am I meant to show I like you too?” you asked, unable to hide your smile as the driver tucked you under his arm, grinning down at you too.
“I don’t know, I think a kiss would be pretty telling,” he shrugged.
You rolled your eyes. 
“But I have a feeling I might have to wait until you’re not as hangry before I get one from you.”
.
962 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 16 days
Text
Mmmmmm 😖. In every universe, in every lifetime, Soap meets a girl in a bar. It just so happens that this time you're on the wrong side of it.
Twirling a stir stick between your fingers, absent-mindedly pulling bottles and shaking bitters. You twist a sliver of lemon rind around the rim, and drop it in the glass. The dim red light paints your face with every shadow Soap could imagine but it's the way your lashes sweep your cheeks, the way your lips part, the soft line of your smile, the dimple when you bite the inside of your cheek, it enthralls him. You enthrall him. You set the glass in front of him and he wordlessly takes it, too focused on the way your eyes glitter in the low light to question what he's drinking.
It tastes dark and rich, there's a softness from the lemon that cuts through the bitters and something else that makes him take another sip. Honey. Just a hint of sweetness that lights up the liquor's natural flavor like moonlight shining behind clouds. You've moved on to the next customer before he can ask what it is you've given him. It certainly isn't what he ordered. There's scotch in it sure, but to say this is neat would be far past lying.
Soap grabs your arm the next time you pass by him, leans clear across the bar and grasps your bicep to stop you from taking another step away from him. "I didn't get your name," he tries with a smile.
"I didn't give it to you," you return with a raise of your brows. You shake him off easily and rap your knuckles against the sign behind the bar. It lights up in glorious neon:
"Do not Touch the staff"
Anyone else and Soap might grimace at the stand of gold that hooks itself in his chest, but for you? Oh for you he'd take a thousand tethers. He'd keep you for nothing less than your hands digging into his ribs, for nothing more than your fingers squeezing his heart. He drags his hands back across the bar, surveying the flaws in the grain with his fingertips. You. You give him a once over and roll your eyes. Something that feels suspiciously like his heart bursts with heat. Smart enough not to want a thing to do with him.
Soap holds his glass tight as he makes his way back to the 141's usual booth. He slides in next to Ghost and eyes the other drinks on the table, not anyone's usual fare but all half drunk.
"Who's the bonnie new bartender?" Soap asks over the rim of his glass. Price leans to tap his cigar against the ashtray in the middle of the table and exhales its smoke.
"Somethin' celestial," he provides by way of a proper name, before sitting back and casting a glare Soap's way, "don't go running off any more of my bar staff, can't afford to keep replacing 'em."
"Dinnae dae anythin' tae the last one," Soap grumbles. His eyes dart to you, the way you more, the way you pour and shake bottles, ks so fluid it almost borders on magical. "Ahm just curious."
"Bloody nuisance is what you are." Price grunts, "Can't keep your hands to yourself."
282 notes · View notes
personasintro · 7 months
Text
Mutual Help | #51
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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Never in a million years would you think you and Jungkook will go to work together. To the same workplace as if you were colleagues. In some way, you kind of are colleagues at the moment, even though you won't be exactly working together.
It definitely has some perks.
For example – you don't have to drive since Jungkook suggested you should go together in one car which makes sense and it is something you were planning to offer anyway. Jungkook's car is more comfortable of course, how can it not be for the money he spent on it, right?
You enjoy the freedom of not having to drive through busy Seoul to get to work. However, you still offer to drive once you see Jungkook yawning as soon as he sits down on the driver seat.
He even has the audacity to snort at your offer. "You driving my car? Nah, I'll pass."
You do feel offended, though you would never purposely try to drive his expensive ass car – too scared to get into an accident or scratch the perfect shiny exterior.
"Asshole," you grumble, "Didn't you offer your car when I got into the accident?" you point out, noticing Jungkook's grin which slightly falters at the mention of your accident. You know he's just teasing you, despite his morning tired state.
"It was a matter of life and death," he remarks, causing you to flick him off. "Sorry, angel. Hate to break it to you but you're not that good of a driver."
Angel... that's new. Even if it's his way of teasing you again, you can't help but feel the little fluttering in the pit of your stomach. It doesn't help that Jungkook has cleaned and dressed up nicely. His outfit is quite simple but knocked the breath out of you as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, fully ready despite his tired puffy eyes. White button-up with black casual slacks – a total threat to your sanity.
"I am a good driver!" you argue.
Okay, maybe you're not a complete Michael Knight when it comes to driving but you're pretty decent. It took you a while to improve but experience helped a lot.
"You can't compare me to you!"
"I know, I know. I'm just teasing you." Jungkook adds teasingly, met with your annoyed huff as your back meets the car seat frustratedly.
For the rest of the drive, Jungkook takes it as his mission to make you laugh and he blasts old Justin Bieber songs, dramatically singing as you try to keep your laugh at bay.
"You're who I'm thinking of, girl you ain't my runner-up,"
He quickly shoots you a playful wink as you roll your eyes, nudging gently his shoulder as he keeps his eyes on the road.
"Just shut up and drive."
"Oh, that's a good song!"
"Oh god..." you mutter, staring from the window as your facade finally cracks.
Though as Jungkook glances at you, he sees your grin in the reflection and he knows his job is done.
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Junho snatches Jungkook from you as soon as the elevator door opens, his nervous figure pacing around the place. His usual self nervous and on the edge now seems to be under control and you think it has something to do with Jungkook. Only because once he spots you and Jungkook, his eyes widening slightly before a welcoming smile stretches on his thin lips as he gives your friend a warm welcome. Not just you, but half of the staff witnessing this moment just gape at him.
Junho likes to kiss ass to everyone who works above him, especially any partners but you would never expect him to be so warm towards a photographer. It only proves he really loves Jungkook's work and is more than happy to have him on this project. So much, that he trusted Jungkook's offer of involving someone whose work he hasn't seen at all. Which reminds you Ester should be here soon, so she and Jungkook can get to work.
You assume once Junho is done kissing Jungkook's ass, he is leading him to the studio where they should go over the work once again before the models are prepared to have photoshoots.
There are many people, strangers who work for other companies, most of them make-up artists, agents. You've been here for three minutes and it's already looking hectic.
"Well, fuck me."
Turning sideways, you spot Yoongi glancing at retrieving figures of your boss and your best friend, similarly looking taken aback.
"Yeah, I know." you mutter, seeing him holding a stack of papers, wearing a gray suit.
"Asshole, we work for him for years and do most of the job and he never treats us like that."
You snort, not surprised by Yoongi's annoyance and irritation showing because in a way, you understand him. Junho can be very hard on all of you and he doesn't exactly treat you friendly, but he's not a bad boss. You're sure there are far worse bosses out there than just a simple man who's too greedy and ambitious for his own good.
"Shh, somebody is going to hear you." you scold him, mouth opening as soon as he thrusts the papers into your arms causing you to almost drop them. You glare at him but he's not even looking at you, sighing as Junho's figure disappears before he glances back at you.
"Like I give a fuck. Junho needs me, he's not gonna do a shit."
"You're too confident. Junho might need all of us," Yoongi rolls his eyes, "But he's got a temper."
"It would be his loss."
He's right about that but you don't tell him that.
"Why did you give me these papers?"
"Wake up, sunshine. You're at your work right now, chop chop."
And he simply walks away with no looking back which leaves your mouth hanging open, and you choke on the fit of curses that want to leave your mouth but you already hear your name being called, one of your colleagues rushing to you as they need your help.
Great. You haven't even got the chance to put your bag away. Fucking Min Yoongi and fucking Mondays.
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Ester arrives a few minutes after Jungkook. He had to laugh at her petrified face when he politely excused himself to Junho, so he can help her get into the building since she doesn't know her way. It's enough she has to be nervous which only confirms once Junho so eagerly excuses him, leaving a few coworkers that are around completely speechless.
"Am I late? You said eight, right?" she asks him as soon as Jungkook holds the door for her to come in, chuckling at her anxious state.
"No, you're good and I did. I came a little early," he assures her and sees the sigh of relief she lets out, "Besides everything is just getting ready, well the final preparations but Junho, the boss I was talking you about," he says, momentarily stopping to make a space for people leaving the elevator before they both make their way in.
He pushes the button, turning to her as he gives her a comforting smile which she tries to return.
"He is gonna go over the things again with us and then we should get to work. We have a long day ahead of us."
She nods, not giving any sort of other reaction – her nerves getting the best of her.
Meanwhile you spot Ester and Jungkook coming in, getting to work right after – you're already swallowed by your own responsibilities and not having time for anything else.
Despite the day's business, it feels as if it's dragging painfully slowly. You don't get to see Jungkook in action, somehow he's always just a blur in the background and you're not phased even in the slightest when you catch a glimpse of him, doing a great work with models. He's a true leader, involved just as much as he can be as he naturally communicates with the models and Ester on the side, who seems to be in her natural habitat.
You don't know any other photographer besides your best friend but seeing how two of them work well together, both of them understanding each other right away makes you think they have a lot in common when it comes to photography. They joke a little, Jungkook helps her with her camera once it seems as if there's a little problem in the setting as he sorts it out for her – all of this you experience in a span of five minutes watching from the distance, some of your coworkers beside you as you wait for the shoot to end. Well, a part of the shoot anyway.
"He's doing a great job, isn't he?"
You almost flinch at the sudden presence of another body next to you, looking at Benjamin who hands you a cup of coffee. You see Lauren holding one of those as well, shooting him a last appreciative smile before she focuses on the tablet in her hands.
"Thank you,"
You thank him, not having the heart to decline his attentive gesture. You don't like to get through the day drinking coffee, it bites you back in the night as it follows with the hassle of not being able to fall asleep. But it's soon lunchtime and you haven't had the time to just sit down, even if it's for five minutes so you gladly take the cup from the coffee machine and take a cautious sip.
"You're like the fifth person who told that in a span of ten minutes." you chuckle causing him to do the same as he lightly shrugs.
"It's true, I had to be there for a few minutes and seriously, he's amazing. You must be proud of him."
There's nothing but sweetness and tenderness in his raspy voice and soft expression and you have to look away to try and shoo away the approaching guilt, still feeling like an idiot for lying to him. To be fair, he hasn't tried anything since then but still remained sweet and friendly. Jungkook is not your real boyfriend but he doesn't know that and ever since he heard the revelation, it's obvious he backed away. You're glad he's still the sweet guy you met – unfortunately, it makes it even worse for your guilt and the little white lie.
"I am," you respond, cutting your thoughts off before you can feel like a total loser.
No lies need to be told, not when it comes to Jungkook's talent and you being proud of him. You remember the beginning of his photography career. He has always been doing good, but it took a lot of courage to get a freelancer career right after college, praying he will have enough clients to pay his bills. In the end, it wasn't the smoothest start but he's nifty and ambitious which helped a lot in this journey.
Despite his parents voicing out their concern for his son, not that they didn't believe in him but their concerns weren't helping him to smooth his own concerns of the future, he has managed to pull it off.
"Photography is his passion." you add softly, not really sure why you just shared that because you're not sure if Benjamin even cares but he responds with one of his charming smiles.
You continue to watch the scene happening in the distance, noticing the tall model you remember from the company's party standing now alone, exposing her skin and legs to everyone's eyes. She's not phased about it, how can she? This is her job and she's used to it, having done a good amount of photoshoots in her lifetime. You know you couldn't just stand there in a bikini, revealing the curve of your ass and most of your ass-cheeks exposed to dozens of men. Nobody in your company is disrespectful and just as she's used to the eyes, you all are used to seeing models. It doesn't matter what gender.
Her blond hair is curled into big beachy waves, breasts pushed up in the bikini bra as she professionally poses for Jungkook's camera. He chats with her throughout it, both of them trying to figure out the new positions and concepts together as they share a laugh together before returning back to work.
There are other models watching them, both female and male as the women seem equally attracted to Jungkook, despite there being male models right next to them.
All the men models are handsome, looking almost unreal even from the distance where you are standing. All of them are captivating and interesting looking in their own way, which makes them special and you know your company has done a good job at picking them up. You're not sure you've seen so many abs in your life like you're experiencing right now – even though most of them have thin robes draped over their shoulders.
Despite it all, you stare back at Jungkook and it's like no one competes with him. It's not even about him having an equally amazing body than the male models here. It's just him and for a split second you panic. You know you're attracted to him, that much is clear because you wouldn't be able to let your new deal keep going on for this long. But you're scared. So you hide your distress behind the plastic cup as you take a few sips of the coffee, letting more caffeine into your body.
"Don't do that."
Turning to Benjamin, you're met with his soft gaze once again and for a moment you think you see an amused grin spreading on his plump lips.
"Do what?"
"Well, at least I hope you're not comparing yourself to them." he says, pointing his head towards the models direction as you glance at them, met with the perfect skinny bodies and shiny skin while his eyes stay on your face, watching you attentively.
"I--no, I'm not." you assure him, but it comes out unsurely and way less honest than you intended.
Working here, you think almost every woman gets through the whole insecurity process at least once. Especially if you're met with gorgeous women on a daily basis but it comes out of inner insecurities in the first place. Eventually, if you're in a happy place with yourself, embracing your own beauty, it's not something you beat yourself over or getting on a radical diet, so you can even come close to them.
You're not envious and jealous, not at all. There are times when a woman can get insecure, or compare herself with literal models and by "a woman" you include yourself too. You think it's only natural in an environment like this but you're happy with yourself and you hope every single coworker of yours is too.
"Good, because you're pretty," he says, a serious tone laced with softness as you stare at him with wide eyes, not expecting the compliment but honesty too. "Ah, sorry have I crossed a line? I didn't mean it--I wasn't meant to be disrespectful towards your boyfriend. I just saw you looking at them and I thought--Ahhh, I'm sorry." he rambles as you watch him with your mouth agape before you let out a chuckle and shake your head.
"You aren't disrespectful," you assure him, still seeing the panic in his light eyes. "Thanks for the compliment."
He lets out a breathy laugh, "I hope I didn't come off as if I'm coming onto you or something. I know you're in a relationship,"
Your features turn guilt for a second and you know he catches the change, though he most likely mistakes it for sadness rather than guilt.
"I'm not like that!" he quickly adds and you laugh, shaking your head.
"Benjamin, please breathe," you continue to laugh silently, "I know. You're very sweet, thank you."
"Good, I don't want to be on bad terms with your boyfriend. He seems like he can throw a punch or two." he jokes, but there's a little fear and seriousness in his voice which makes you giggle.
"He can," you muse but quickly add, "But don't worry about him. He wouldn't punch you for calling me pretty, not that he has to know."
You give him an assurance that you won't snitch on him to "your boyfriend", even though it's not a big deal at all. Even if you had a boyfriend and someone else called you pretty, it doesn't mean they're coming onto you. And you appreciate Benjamin's concern, knowing he really didn't mean to come off as pushy or invading in any way.
"Good, good..." Benjamin sighs in relief, giving you a grin. "Who's the other photographer? Is she from our company?" He changes the topic.
"No, actually. She is Jungkook's friend."
Benjamin opens his mouth, an audible "Oh" leaving his mouth before another voice reaches your ears.
"Admiring your boyfriend, I see?"
And just like that, your own grin drops and you turn around finding Yoongi making his way to you. Can he be any more suspicious? He looks amused as fuck, finding his little joke (which is unknown to Benjamin) a little bit too funny and your expression of annoyance even more.
"No. I'm doing my job which can't be said about you." you remark back, watching his grin stretch even more which annoys you to the core while Benjamin stares confusingly at you and him, sensing the tension.
It's not like he is new to it but he's probably confused why you still bicker at almost every chance.
"Oh, admiring your boyfriend is your job?" he teases, or more like annoys the shit out of you as you bite your tongue. "Besides, I've been doing my and your job."
"What do you mean?"
"They're looking for you in the office. You're supposed to sort out finances with the team."
"No, I am not. I'm supposed to be here for a while until--"
"Doesn't matter," You're rudely cut off by him as he waves you off. "Get your ass there. You're lucky Junho isn't there and is busy admiring your boyfriend."
"Careful, you sound jealous, Min." you sing out, gulping down the rest of the cold coffee now before you bin it.
Brushing past Yoongi, you pat his shoulder just for the right measure to piss him off and seeing him narrowing his eyes at you annoyingly, you know you've succeeded. Throwing a wave to Benjamin, you leave the two of them there as you're on your way to find the fuck out what you have to do with finances.
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The next time you see Jungkook is after lunchtime, he's joined with Junho and a few other people including Natalie, the main star of today's project and Ester. You heard Junho invited some of them to lunch outside, which threw you off a little considering he's been a nervous wreck about this project and you pictured him showing his usual temper. But at the same time, it makes sense he's suddenly a different man, trying to impress everyone he invited to lunch.
He never did that with any of his employees – not that most of you would go anyway, maybe strictly out of politeness and a fear of possibly pissing him off.
You've around five minutes to get back to work, meeting Jungkook's gaze across the room as he makes his way over to you, leaving the partners and agents alone as everyone is going their own way.
There has been barely any time to chat with him, or just make sure everything's good even though you know Jungkook can take care of himself and everyone is swooning over him. So once you're met with a gentle smile of his, you reciprocate it.
"Hey, where were you? I thought you'd join us for lunch." he says, stopping right in front of you.
"I couldn't, besides Junho didn't invite us and we still had some work to do." you explain.
By work you don't mean anything too important, just to make sure everything's ready on the next set so you can go home on time.
Jungkook's eyes narrow for a moment, an unpleasant look making its way on his face as he licks his lips. "Have you eaten?"
"Uhh, yeah. There is a buffet prepared for all of you but Benjamin actually ordered us a delivery."
You'd be completely fine eating toast or something light for lunch, as long as you get to eat something and won't stay hungry. Luckily Benjamin was kind enough to take it upon himself to prepare food for all of you, the people that were left behind in the company. Though, to be completely fair you were free to go eat out too, it's not like you have forbidden to do so, but all of you know it wouldn't be convenient today.
"You could've just told me." Jungkook says, sound tilting close to the actual scolding which makes you let out a breathy chuckle.
"Told you what?"
"Well, I could've taken you for lunch. I thought you guys would join us, I didn't know.... If I knew you weren't invited I'd just eat with you."
You smile at his concern, shaking your head lightly while Jungkook frowns even more. "It's fine," you laugh a little, "You can't exactly decline their invitation. It's only polite for you to go. It's no big deal."
"No, it's not... If I just knew..." he mumbles, "I'd decline them anyway."
Now that makes you laugh and Jungkook's lips twitch as he tries to hide a grin.
"What? I don't care if I'm invited or not, or what's polite or not."
"You're lucky Junho seems to like you a lot."
Jungkook shrugs, a cocky expression taking over his handsome face. "What can I say..."
"Don't say anything," you joke, "How's Ester doing?"
"She's actually very good. I knew she'd do a good job." he answers.
Nothing else can be said because Junho ushers everyone to get back to work. Jungkook sighs and gives you one last dreadful look which makes you giggle as he walks away.
The rest of the week goes exactly the same. You and Jungkook go to work together but you separate as soon as you enter the building, this time around Jungkook makes sure to take you out for lunch and Ester joins you, since she doesn't know many people and you wouldn't want her to be left alone when Jungkook is the only person who she knows the most. She actually comes out of her shell and gushes over this opportunity, thanking your friend a few times.
She's sweet, kind and friendly. In a way she reminds you of someone, she's very much similar to her – personality wise and you wonder if Jungkook sees it the same way.
After lunch, you both go doing your job and don't interact with each other (besides the soft smiles whenever your eyes meet) until it's time to go home. You catch up on the way to Jungkook's apartment, get ready to go to bed before you repeat the same process every day.
It's Friday now and you successfully finished this week with a great outcome that's seen for now. After working ten hours of being constantly on your feet and handling stuff, you miss the softness of your bed and Jungkook's huge expensive shower and you have to control yourself not to look grumpy in this nice bar Junho invited some of you to. Just the close circle of his employees and agents from the other company, to apparently celebrate this week.
You weren't as lucky as Yoongi who slipped away through the doors before another word could be uttered. The idiot is probably at home by now, or doing whatever you want while you're stuck in this bar, listening to Junho bragging about useless things.
Most people that were invited you don't know personally, nor you've a close relationship with or any at this point. Excluding Jungkook who couldn't say no because your boss insisted. Even Natalie has been invited, which doesn't surprise you as she charms everyone with her own charms around the table.
She's taking most of Jungkook's attention, the man having a casual conversation with her while you sit next to him like a grumpy cat, swirling your drink. Non-alcoholic drink to be precise and you already regret your decision not to drink tonight.
It's boring and not even when Jungkook tries to keep you entertained whenever he can, it doesn't help much.
You spend the time going through the entire week, lucky there was no drama happening regarding Yoongi or Benjamin. The last time Yoongi and Jungkook interacted with each other, your friend was ready to punch your coworker. Luckily, they never bumped into each other. And Benjamin? He has never questioned you about your relationship with Jungkook, probably thinking you're keeping it professional in the work which you would do either way – with or without a boyfriend. It ultimately made it easier with Ester as well, since she knows you and Jungkook are friends and you're glad it hasn't reached her eyes that you're "dating" Jungkook all of a sudden.
"You wanna go home?" Jungkook asks once he leans in your direction, close to almost brushing his lips against your ear as his scent fills your nostrils.
You've been here for only an hour but if anyone even talks to you, it's just boring conversation that leads nowhere. Damn, you really feel antisocial right now.
"Not if you don't want to," you tell him, knowing you both came here by his car. "I can just take a cab." You change your mind as Jungkook gives you a look.
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs gently, "I'll finish the drink and we can go. It's boring anyway." he says the last sentence with a whisper, so nobody else can hear him which makes you bite back a laugh.
Is he lying? He looked like he's having a good time. He talked the most amongst the group which can't be said about you.
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"Junho has offered me a job in the company."
Your brows lift up in surprise, Jungkook driving you both home as he lowers the volume of the music that's been pleasantly playing in the background.
"Oh."
"Yeah..."
You had a photographer that used to be employed in the company, but Junho decided to fire him because he "wasn't good enough". Of course you're no professional but you think he had the job done, so him getting fired surprised everyone at that time. That's why your boss stuck to finding a different photographer for each project, instead of employing someone.
"What did you tell him?" you ask.
"That I'd think about it."
"And will you?"
"I don't know," Jungkook chuckles, "It'd be less work for me. It's simpler than being a freelancer and having to sort everything out by myself. But I don't think it'd be a good idea regardless."
"Why not?" you frown.
As much as you complain sometimes about your job, you do like it and you'd be bummed out if you were fired for some reason.
"First of all, I like the fact I'm my own boss. I choose what I want to work on. Besides, I don't think it'd be a good idea if we worked together," he explains, briefly glancing at you to notice your curious gaze but before you can open your mouth, he jumps to explain further. "Friends working together is never a good idea."
"Well, technically we wouldn't work together. I don't really interact with photographers a lot, somebody else does."
"Well yeah, but I wouldn't want to come into your own workplace. That's your place."
"I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that," you chuckle, "But I understand what you mean."
You find it sweet that he puts you first, even though you don't see a problem with him working at your company. If that's what he wants.
"Me and Jimin worked together."
"Yeah but you met there. You weren't already best friends. That's different. And you only did an internship there."
"Hm, I guess you're right." you hum.
"Anyway, I don't think I'm gonna take it. I didn't want to tell him straight away to look impolite or inappreciative."
"Just so you know, I wouldn't mind whatever you decide on." you assure him and the corner of his lips lifts up.
A minute of silence follows until Jungkook stops at the red light, drumming his tattooed fingers against the steering wheel.
"I'm gonna meet up with Hoseok."
Jungkook manages to shock you a second time within the past ten minutes but this time, your head snaps to his direction as he glances at you, a serious expression on his face.
You know he mentioned talking to him recently, but to be honest you completely forgot about that conversation and you'd never thought of bringing it up to him. That's completely his decision if he wants to talk to Hoseok. You know Jungkook deals with a lot of stuff that's eating him alive, no matter how better he seems to be and assures you he is fine. The betrayal he still feels from Hoseok's action is very fresh but there's at least the slightest amount of understanding, at least you hope so judging from your last conversation you had with him about this topic.
"That's great, Kook," you say, not really sure what to say – due to your shock and wondering what's the right thing to say. You don't want him to doubt his decision and you're glad he is at least moving on. "Did you wait the entire evening to drop all this information on me?" you joke and actually make him laugh as he drives off once the light turns green.
"Wanted to have you all to myself before I do," he jokes and you ignore the set of butterflies his words cause you. "I was thinking about it a lot... I can't promise how our conversation will turn out because I'm still hurt, and I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon... but, I'm willing to talk to him. So I texted him today before I could chicken out because I know I would."
"It's not gonna be easy to hear him out, you're still hurt. But just try to see his perspective a little," you advise him carefully while he stays silent, "However your conversation goes, remember you tried your best."
"Yeah." he exhales a sigh, nibbling on his bottom lip as he brushes his thumb across it.
He knows he has to talk to Hoseok either way before it's too late. He needs to deal with this while it's fresh.
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The place they agreed to meet is Hoseok's apartment. At first, Jungkook was thinking about meeting him in a public place because the last time Hoseok was in his apartment, it didn't end well. So many things were left shattered that day. He is more calm now but regardless of that, a public place is not suitable for such a conversation they're about to have.
When Hoseok offered to meet at his place, he agreed. The conversation simple and blunt, straight to the point and it's ridiculous how awkward and tense it seemed even through the stupid texts.
For fuck sake, he even woke up early to have a morning jog just to come back and find you already preparing for your day with Maya. He has barely eaten, too distracted to properly function and with each mile he gets to the final destination, he feels his stomach in knots.
However, he walks to his door with utter confidence knowing he has an upper hand in this. And meeting Hoseok's brown soft eyes full of sadness and regret makes him actually soften. But then he is reminded of what he has done to him and if it weren't enough, the pictures that fill his apartment – pictures of his friends and among them Kiko – he is reminded he is in this position because of her.
Not only she ruined their relationship and possible future, she has also managed to ruin his friendship with Hoseok. A friend he has had for years.
But is he selfish to put all the blame onto her? Clearly, it wasn't his fault what happened. It does feel bitter to know she got involved with more people and he wants to be so mad at her. A part of him still is. But then he looks at her wide smile he fell in love with and tries to think what pain she went through alone. Even though she has done it voluntarily, it still doesn't feel better to know she was in pain. Still is.
"Do you want something to drink? Water, juice or I can make you a drink?" Hoseok asks once the awkward greeting is over, motioning Jungkook to sit down on his couch as he listens and peels away his eyes from the memories in a form of framed pictures.
"Water is fine."
He drove here and even though he could easily drink and call a cab, it's better to stay away from alcohol. Not that he is scared to flip out or something because Jungkook isn't the type to turn aggressive if drinking, but it tends to strengthen emotions. He needs to have a clear mind for this.
"Sure, let me get that for you and then we can talk." he offers him a crooked smile and Jungkook knows it's just a mask to hide his own nervosity.
Hoseok has always been collected, the fun one in the group alongside Taehyung but he could still be stern and serious – definitely more than Taehyung. But he has never seen him like this but it only makes sense. Hoseok has never ruined a friendship with anyone. He is friends with anyone. Well, if he doesn't count the awkward interactions you had with him.
He comes back within a minute, placing the glass in front of Jungkook as he thanks him but doesn't reach for it just yet. Though his throat starts to feel dry, he feels it tightening as he's not sure how to start.
"I'm sorry," Hoseok blurts out suddenly, "I know I said it so many times by now but I can't look you in the eyes without saying it again. It feels awful to feel this tension and awkwardness between us, I know it's my fault..."
"No, it's not..." Jungkook mutters, ignoring the subtle surprise on Hoseok's face as he nervously brushes through his dark hair, staring at the younger. "At least not entirely,"
Hoseok's face drops but he nods in understatement.
"I was so mad at you. I felt betrayed by my own friend and having to come to terms with what happened--it's still hard and it's not easy but I think I'm getting better at understanding you and... her,"
Hoseok's features turn soft, not daring to say a word. Not yet at least.
"It sucks because I'm still mad, a part of me is and I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon," he repeats the words he said to you in his car yesterday, "But Y/N made me think about you more... well at least to try and see things from your perspective as she would say. She actually made us an example,"
He chuckles at the memory.
"And I understood if Y/N came up to me and asked me--asked me what Kiko asked you as her best friend. I would do it in a heartbeat. I would be there for her and keep it a secret because I respect her that much. I think it would be so fucking hard to keep such a heartbreaking secret, but I would do it for her. I guess I was selfish to see things from only my perspective. I was too consumed by the anger and heartbreak."
He hates how Hoseok gives him a pitiful look. He hates when people pity him and that's when he usually chooses not to be vulnerable in front of anyone. He deals with his stuff alone
"And it's totally understandable, Kook," Hoseok says slowly and softly, "I can't imagine what you had to go through and I hate myself for not telling you anything since I knew the truth from day one."
"I know it wasn't easy for you either," Jungkook tells him, finally having the courage to look back into his brown eyes. "I think it would be worse if you actually didn't feel bad." he tries to joke and it helps to soothe out the tension in the room, as Hoseok chuckles but it comes out dryly.
"Ever since I've known," Hoseok says hesitantly, eyes glancing at Jungkook as the younger slowly nods at him to silently tell him it's fine to be honest and open. Even if it might hurt him. "I told her to tell you. She even told me she regrets telling me and dragging me into this. But I'm glad she did, only because she was alone. I know she chose it and I know you're the best thing that happened to her, I encouraged her to tell you before it's too late. To talk to you before she–"
He sets his lips into a tight line as Jungkook gives him a saddened nod, knowing what he is referring to.
"I told her you'd take care of them. I told her even if she decided she doesn't--whatever she decided, you would be there for her every step of the way. But she was so stubborn, she wouldn't listen to me and she panicked. Before she knew, it was too late. When she broke up with you--I scolded her for not telling you the truth but she told me it will hurt you even more than the lie,"
He knows, she told him and it's still hurtful to hear this thing all over again.
"But she put your well-being first. And then you guys got together again and I still told her to tell you because one way or another, you will find out and then she will lose you. I think that intimidated her the most and she caught herself into this web of lies. She loved you so much that the thought of losing you again scared the shit out of her. She regretted her decision and--I know you probably don't want to hear about her or hear her side because what she did–-it was her decision and she had the right to do so. But she still hurt you... a lot."
"No, it's fine. I think I need to hear all of it to be able to fully move on." Jungkook swallows, hearing his heart cracking but something tells him he really needs to hear all of it.
"She started going to therapy shortly after..." he motions with his hands, still not able to say it out loud because it is too painful. For him as well. "She wasn't doing well, Kook. I know you probably don't care–"
"I do," he cuts him off gently, "I don't like the thought of her suffering, despite all."
"Because you have the biggest heart," Hoseok says immediately, cringing at his words which makes both men chuckle a little. "You really do."
"I just don't get it... we were doing so fine. We talked about our future. So what if it happened way sooner than we planned? She wasn't planning to break up with me. Does she think we couldn't be a family? Does she think we couldn't raise a child together? As a father of the child, I had the right to at least know that she is pregnant. Fuck, we had sex just a few days before she broke up with me. Knowing she was pregnant at that time--"
"Nobody would change her mind. Not even you, Jungkook," Hoseok reminds him softly, "I know you think you would... but she was too stubborn. She was depressed and sure of her decision. It backfired and she is gonna live it for the rest of her life. She lost you for good."
Jungkook swallows, wanting to reach for the stupid glass of water but he doesn't want to look weaker than he already is.
"How--How is she?" he asks carefully. Tone perfectly slow and wary, he's not sure if he wants to hear about her but a part of him wants to know.
He hasn't seen her and nobody talked to her in front of him, which is understandable and he knows it was better that way.
"She's in Japan at the moment," Hoseok smiles sadly, "She is with her family and needs to heal. It fucked her up a lot. I think even more because she blames herself knowing it's all on her."
"I...I'm sorry to hear that."
He really is. No matter what happened between them, it's not easy to hear how much she is suffering. He doesn't want her to suffer for the rest of her life. He's not that bitter and bad to actually wish that.
"She will be better," Hoseok says, though Jungkook is not sure if he means it or tries to persuade himself, or both of them. "At first she tried to hide her true emotions, she thought I couldn't see she's faking it... it always ended up with her losing it. It would take hours to calm her down."
"I'm... I'm glad she had you." he says, knowing he wouldn't be able to be that person to her.
Or maybe he could but he's not sure if he was capable, considering his own heartbreak and demons.
"You were the one she wanted," Hoseok admits softly, "But nobody would ask you of that. She really hates herself for hurting you."
"I know," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want her to hate herself."
"Maybe you could tell her that? Maybe in the future? I know it's a lot to ask and I don't want to make it seem as if I'm pressuring you. You've got every right not to see her anymore because I know how much that must hurt. I think you both aren't ready to see each other and most importantly, talk. But maybe the right way to heal is to heal each other?" he asks unsurely.
He definitely doesn't want to push Jungkook's buttons, he already appreciates him being here and this conversation going smoothly, even though it's sad and heartbreaking all over again.
"Maybe," he mumbles, "I'm healing slowly but I guess you're right. I'm not ready though. It still hurts. I can't help but think what if... and all that. I imagine what my life would look like if she didn't... but I guess it happened for a reason?"
"Yeah," he nods slowly and gives him a saddened smile, "Maybe you just weren't meant to be for each other."
"I'm not sure if I believe that," Jungkook frowns, "We loved each other. If she said the truth, things could be different. I wouldn't leave her no matter what."
"Of course, I don't doubt your love," Hoseok reminds him, "I'm sure if things were different, you'd still be together. But I'm glad you're healing. I'm really sorry for what you had to go through. I wish I could change it."
"Maybe it happened for a reason," Jungkook shrugs, though he is still not sure if this is his fate. "I'll have to live either way."
"You look well." Hoseok tells him, searching Jungkook's face. He doesn't look as broken as he once did.
The memory of Jungkook's indescribable face when they last talked together still haunts him to this day. It made his guilt even bigger each time he thought about it.
"Y/N helped me a lot. So did Taehyung and Jimin..." he explains silently. "She made me see things that would take me way longer to realize."
Hoseok smiles and a few moments of silence follows as Jungkook stares at his intertwined fingers.
"Hobi," Jungkook calls out softly to his friend, Hoseok's eyes sparkling at the nickname as a relief washes through him. "I'm sorry for almost punching you."
"No, please, it's alright. I get it."
"No, I was aggressive. If Y/N didn't get between us, I would have punched you. I really wanted to."
"Do you want to punch me now?" He jokes and makes Jungkook's mouth twitch as a playful gaze washes over his eyes before he slowly shakes his head.
"No."
"Good, it would definitely hurt like hell," he chuckles, "But yeah. It was crazy of her to get between us. I told her she shouldn't have done that when I was leaving."
"God, if I punched her accidentally I would've never forgiven myself,"
If that happened, he knows it would be technically your fault because who the fuck gets between two men that are about to fight? Well, between a man who's about to punch the other one.
"She saved the day, though. Didn't she?" Jungkook cracks a smile as Hoseok laughs.
"Yeah, and my face too. Remind me to thank her later."
"I will." he laughs and the air suddenly feels lighter than before. It's still a little awkward but as he stares at Hoseok's joyful face, or at least way more relaxed than he looked in the beginning, he feels relief.
"We are good, yeah?" Hoseok asks unsurely, suddenly turning nervous again as Jungkook stares at him for a second.
And then his lips stretch into the slightest smile, unspoken forgiveness lingering in Jungkook's big and dark eyes. "Yes. We will be."
Once Hoseok stretches his hand to him, Jungkook takes it and is surprised when Hoseok gives him a crushing hug.
"Don't overdo it." Jungkook jokes, slapping Hoseok on his back as he pulls away with no regrets.
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Maya looks beautiful in every dress she tries. It does make you emotional to see her in her possible wedding dress, and you have a hard time not to tear up. It's definitely the champagne's fault the woman that works in the shop gives you.
You've lost count how many dresses she has tried so far, each of them unique and beautiful in their own pretty way. Maya has no idea what style to go for, so she picked various styles and has managed to look good in each of them.
You're enjoying this, not only the champagne with a strawberry in it, but it's something new and it's safe to say you've never been in a wedding salon to be a part of the process of picking a wedding dress with your friend. It does distract you from the thoughts of how Jungkook is doing. You do check your phone whenever Maya is in the fitting room.
You don't know what you expect. A message of Jungkook losing it again? A message that everything went well? You know meeting Hoseok is a big deal for him, regardless of how he tried to hide it this morning.
"Crap, there's not enough time. Can you try the dress for me?" Maya pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyes directed on the wedding dress she's wearing at the moment once the woman informs you there's another client coming soon.
It's the last piece Maya has to try, the sleek dress hanging on the hanger for her to try. Just getting out of each dress is taking a lot of time and you think you've got enough time. Apparently you don't and you can already see the stress on Maya's face. This is a big deal for her and this process does make her feel nervous, because she wants everything to be perfect. Even though she tries to look carefree and relaxed.
"Me?"
"Yeah, there's not enough time for me to try it." she whines, sending a glare to the door where the woman working in this salon disappeared. Well, it's not her fault Maya chose too many dresses to try in a span of two hours.
"But our bodies are different," you remind her, "It's gonna look different on me than on you."
"I just need to see how they look on the body. I don't really care whose body it is."
"Oh, okay." There's not enough time to think this through and you stand up, wiping your palms against your jeans as you walk towards the white dress.
The woman comes back from the door, seeing you grabbing the dress as she rushes to you and takes it from your hands to help you. "Let me help you," she smiles kindly, "Are you trying it for your friend?"
"Uhh, yes." you smile nervously and let her lead you to the fitting room.
She helps you to put them on and surprisingly, they fit amazingly. You'd still need a pair of heels because the dress is too long. You walk out of the fitting room, chuckling at yourself.
"Yah, I'm not sure."
Maya looks in your direction, hopping off the circled stair which is placed for brides to stand to see the dress more clearly, since the mirrors surround one side.
"Wow," she lets out, grinning ear to ear. "Don't do this to me girl. You'd be a prettier bride than me."
"Oh, please." you roll your eyes at Maya as she helps you to step on her previous spot.
It's the moment when you turn around to fully look at your reflection under the bright lights that your mouth falls open. Your hair is down, the soft waves you made yourself in the morning actually make you look less casual with this dress on. It's got blouson sleeves, the skirt thin but flowy. It looks like a dress for a princess. You feel like a princess and you can't stop looking at yourself.
"God, you're so beautiful," Maya whines next to you, "I love the dress. How you feelin'?"
"Weird?" you chuckle, "I've never tried a wedding dress before. Obviously." you snort at yourself.
"The dress suits you," the woman joins your conversation, complimenting you as well as your cheeks heat up at their compliments and eyes widened in awe. "You look like a princess."
"I want to look like a queen at my wedding." you joke as both of them giggle with you.
"Let me take a picture," Maya says and hands you your phone to unlock it for her since you've been taking her pictures on your phone, so she can decide on her choice later.
She said like ten times on each dress that "It's the one" and all of them are beautiful, so deciding will be hard for her.
You hand her the phone back and pose for her, even throwing a peace sign as a joke as you laugh together. The owner of the salon, whose name you unfortunately forgot when she introduced you, takes a picture of you two before you have to rush to get out of the dresses so the other client doesn't have to wait once she gets here.
Just as you thank the owner, grabbing your stuff, the other client arrives just in time as you get out of the salon.
"Fuck, it's gonna be so hard to choose." Maya complains but the happiness on her face is clear as the day. "This was so fun. Thank you for coming with me."
"Don't mention it, it was so much fun," you tell her, letting her intertwine your arms together. "Here, let's get an ice-cream and look at the pictures!"
She doesn't refuse, both of you stuffing your face. The entire dress is trying to make both of you hungry.
Once Maya goes to the bathroom later on, you check your phone to see no notifications. You open the chat with Jungkook and jokingly send him a picture of you trying on the dress. You'd show him later anyway but you do want to ask him how's it going.
You're about to lock your phone, thinking he's not going to respond right away and there's a chance he is still talking to Hoseok. Surprisingly, he replies right after you lock your phone.
Kook: 😳
You snort at the emoji, thumb hovering over the screen before another message pops up.
Kook: are you trying to tell me something?
"🙄 what?? No compliments?"
Kook: are you getting secretly married?
"Lol yes"
Kook: who's the lucky guy?
"Not you 😜"
Kook: ouch and here I thought we said we'll get married together if we are not married by the age of 40
"I guess you aren't that lucky then" 
"They told me I look like a princess 😎"
Kook: you do
You unawarely bite your lower lip as you stare at his text, wondering what the tone of it is. Deciding that you're not sure what to reply next, because all of this is just a joke, you start typing.
"How's it going with Hoseok?" 
Kook: great actually 
Kook: I'll tell you at home
Kook: see you until then princess ;) 
You send him an emoji of rolling eyes, knowing he must be cackling behind the screen. Putting away your phone, you smile at approaching Maya as you fall into another friendly conversation as soon as she sits down.
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Jungkook is in the shower when you come back, the day with Maya dragging longer since you decided to go for a walk and then have a late lunch together before you parted ways. She still hasn't decided on her dress but she still has some time, a few weeks or months. Nobody expects her to choose one on the first day.
You change into more comfortable clothes, grabbing yourself a glass of lemonade when Jungkook joins you in the kitchen.
"What's up, princess?" he teases, greeting you once you turn around to spot him wearing his sweatpants only, hair wet from the shower. He is doing this on purpose, doesn't he?
Not letting yourself to look too affected for various reasons, you roll your eyes at his teasing. "Keep teasing."
"Or what?" he presses, a scent of shower gel and shaving cream filling the kitchen as he leans against the kitchen island, smirking at you.
You clench your jaw, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. "How did it go with Hoseok? Show me your hands."
He rolls his eyes, chuckling a little. "Good, actually," he responds, shaking himself out of the amused mood as he turns serious. "We talked a lot. I'm able to understand him more but... yeah, I think it's going in the right direction."
"That sounds great, I'm glad." you smile and Jungkook returns it.
"We hung out for a little longer and then I went to work out to process it. I feel... surprisingly lighter and more relaxed."
"He is your friend, I can imagine you want to have him in your life."
"Yeah..." he mumbles in thought before he glances up just as you drink the lemonade. "How was your day with Maya? What's with the wedding dress?"
You laugh, "We were running out of time, so Maya asked me to try the dress for her. All the dresses were so beautiful, Kook. So many various styles and materials."
"You had fun, I see."
"I did."
"Did she pick one?"
"No, there were too many and she still has time to decide. We took a picture of each dress, so she has the pictures to choose from. But the prices, oof."
"Isn't she renting the dress?"
"She is, but it's still expensive. We talked about her wedding plans and the money they're about to put in it, fuck. I mean I know organizing a wedding is expensive but the prices she told me--I'm not sure if I'll ever get married." you laugh and Jungkook amusingly rolls his eyes.
"You will." he assures you.
You know you will. You're just joking but the money you need for a single wedding is still a lot. Mind blowing.
"Oh," you suddenly remember, reaching for your phone on the counter as you unlock it. "I wanna show you something."
"What? Another wedding dress?" He jokes as you thrust your phone into his hands, eyes trailing your face amusingly for a moment before he looks at the screen and his features freeze before a slight frown makes it on his face. "What's this?"
"I found this on the internet." you explain, standing next to him as you peek at the screen, a familiar image and text on it.
"Are you moving out?" he asks, surprised.
"I told you I'm searching for apartments and I found this. Look at the pictures, the apartment is so cozy and the rent is actually very good. It's even closer than the building I lived in before. Look, look," you tell him as you swipe the pictures to show him how the building looks from the outside. "Doesn't it look western? It brings me back home. It even has a balcony!"
Jungkook looks at the pictures, reading the information that comes with the ad.
"I didn't contact the person yet, I wanted to show you first. But I think I'm gonna try it and have a look. What do you think?"
He hands you back the phone as he looks a little taken back, which you do notice and it makes your excited features fall down a little. He meets your gaze and suddenly relaxes as he gives you a smile.
"You should try at least."
"Would you come with me? I mean... if you're free that day."
"Yeah, sure. We can check it out together." he assures you and you sigh in relief.
"What's wrong?"
He frowns, shrugging. "What?"
"You look weird. Do you not want me to move out?"
"Do you think I want to?" he asks dumbfoundedly. "I told you you can stay as long as you want." he reminds you.
"No, no that's not what I meant. I know I can stay. But we both know I can't stay here forever."
"Why not?" Jungkook's lips curl as he sits down on the chair and pulls you between his spreaded legs. "I got used to having you here,"
And his hands roam down your lower back as you shiver, looking down at him and how soft his skin looks.
"It's gonna be sad not having you around."
You snort, "You make it seem as if I'm moving to another country," you joke, "I will still be around. Have you grown attached to me, hm?"
Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I enjoy your company."
"Mhm, company," you tease as he grins at you, eyes sparkling. "Or something else, don't you?"
"It's not just about sex." he frowns a little as you snort.
"Okay," you nod, knowing that's not what he meant. "But it does make things easier, doesn't it?"
"It does," he agrees, "How will I fuck you? Will we have to make sex apppoitments or something?" he whines and it causes a bubbly laugh rip out of your throat as your hands play with his hair at the back of his head.
"Oh, how awful." you tease and he groans, hiding his face into your stomach as you keep laughing.
He pinches your ass and you yelp, scolding him right after as you're interrupted by Jungkook's ringtone. He reaches for the device, staring at the screen as a low "Fuck" makes it out.
He groans and you look at the screen, seeing "Mom" written on it.
"I was supposed to call her but I forgot." he explains before he accepts the call.
"Yah, Jeon Jungkook! You don't know your mother's number?" Mrs. Jeon scolds him as soon as she realizes Jungkook has accepted her call, even before he can utter a single word.
You hold back a laugh, watching Jungkook pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm so sorry, mom. This week has been busy and--"
"So busy you can't contact your parents?" Mrs. Jeon continues to scold him as Jungkook shoots you a glare, ready to slap your ass as you dodge it just in time. "Jungwon told me you'll call me and I've been waiting."
"Ah, I know. I'm sorry, mom," Jungkook sighs disappointedly at himself, "I'll make it up to you."
"You will!" she agrees, "I want you to come visit. The last time you were here was for Christmas. It's spring already, spring Jungkook!"
You can't hold it back and you laugh out loud, slapping your hand over your mouth as Jungkook's mouth twitches and he tries to hide a grin. His mom says something as Jungkook sighs.
"It's Y/N. She's here with me."
You hear something muffled, now that her voice isn't as loud as Jungkook sighs. "Wait a second,"
And then he turns on the speaker and places his phone on the counter.
"Okay, she hears you now."
"Y/N, my sweetest girl! Is my son annoying you? Is he cleaning after himself? I heard you live with him, I hope he takes care of you."
You giggle, Jungkook pursing his lips as he looks annoyed at his own mother.
"Hi, Mrs. Jeon!" you greet her cheerfully, stepping closer to the phone so she hears you more clearly. "Don't worry, Jungkook is the nicest roommate."
"I'm happy to hear that. I raised him well!" she praises herself and Jungkook snorts, causing you to elbow him as he shrugs.
"You did." you agree with her, smiling as she asks you how you are and how's your work. Simple and friendly questions you gladly answer.
In the middle of your conversation, Jungkook sneakily starts to caress your ass down your thighs, shooting you a grin as you turn around to glare at him.
"--you need to come to Busan too! Jungkook-ah, take her with you. We need more girls in this household."
Jungkook snorts, "I don't know if Y/N wants to, mom."
Mrs. Jeon stays silent, waiting for your answer. "I mean... if I'm free I'd love to see you and Mr. Jeon again." you reply politely.
"See, Jungkook? Even Y/N wants to see us."
"Mom," Jungkook groans, hand between your thighs as he caresses your inner thigh.
You hate to admit how wet you already are from his touches and he is not even touching your clothed heat.
"I said I'm sorry. You really gonna torture me?"
Mrs. Jeon snorts, "Yes."
"You women are something else."
"Y/N dear, slap him for me."
"Mom!"
You start laughing, Jungkook dropping his hand off your leg.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Jeon. I will punish him." you joke, not realizing how your words sound until it's too late but Mrs. Jeon doesn't put any thought to it as she laughs and supports you.
Jungkook glares at your amused expression that you give him, something flickering in his eyes. "Keep talking," he warns you with a low tone, so his mother doesn't hear him.
You stick your tongue out at him.
"Mom, I will try and come this weekend. I'm sorry for not calling sooner. Say hi to dad from me, okay?"
"You better come this weekend. We miss you and it's been a while. Haru has been talking about her uncle, I'm sure she will be happy to see you again."
"I was just babysitting her, mom." Jungkook reminds her dumbfoundedly.
"And? That's why she can't stop talking about you. Why do you sound so annoyed, Jeon Jungkook? I hope you're not because she is your niece, just wait–"
"Alright, mom. I love you and I will see you next weekend. Bye, love you." And he hangs up before she can say anything else.
He leaves you speechless and you laugh, slapping his shoulder. "That was mean!"
"She was mean too!"
"Genes." you shrug simply and walk away from him.
"Yah!" You hear behind you.
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ryomens-vixen · 6 months
Note
Please make a second part to your Sukuna grieving headcanon because I will physically hang myself and whirl around as a corpse since I cannot take this angst !!!
Your wish, has been granted! ⭐ I'm sorry if it's short
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Grieving!Sukuna headcanons pt2.
Plot/Summary: Each year on your d3athdate Ryomen emerges from his temple to wreck havoc upon any and every neighboring town and village in a thousand mile radius or more. Many townspeople think it'd be better to put the King of Curses out of his misery, but the others have a different idea in mind. Resurrecting the one person that can tame this maddening beast...
Content: Fluff, Angst, happy Sukuna, Necromancy, pet names.
Word count: 🤷🏾‍♀️ sis ion know good luck.
Grieving!Sukuna Pt1
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Grieving!Sukuna Who grumbled in agony after hearing your sweet voice call out to him. Thinking that it may just be another illusion of his, one that haunted him ever since the death of the love of his life.
Grieving!Sukuna Who slouched in his throne shielding his ears from your voice that called to him again. All he could think in that moment was the tears in your eyes and the way you fell cold in his arms as he held you that day.
Grieving!Sukuna who placed another hand over his own eyes because the mere sight of you pained him beyond belief oh, but when you climbed up the bones below his throne eagerly to greet your Lord, did he finally open his eyes-
Grieving!Sukuna who stared at you in disbelief as you greeted him in that strange way you always did- what was it? Ah, you always fell to your knees at his feet, taking the nearest hand of his to perch your lips upon. Oh did he miss the way your soft lips feverishly kissed the back and palm of his hand.
"Are these damned Eyes of mine deceiving me... Or"
He grabbed her face in between his thumb and pointer like he always did in response to your greetings. He chuckled, "Have I truly gone mad over these years."
Grieving!Sukuna who could almost feel his heart burst out of his chest from just hearing that sweet, sweet melody.. Your voice. But who could blame him for questioning your mere existence? You literally passed away right in his arms- he could still feel how cold your body had became after the hours he had held you.
"My Lord, How I wish this was all the trick of thee eye, but... When I arose from my eternal slumber there was a strange man with a staff over me- H.. He spoke that if I do not come to you, then there would be hell to pay! "
She took his large hand into both of her own and gently, but loving nuzzled the palm of the hand with her cheek. "So far seeing you in such a state is hell enough to me... I never thought I'd see the day where you shed a te-"
Grieving!Sukuna who sprouted an extra mouth in the palm of hand which he used to passionately and desperately kiss you with.
Grieving!Sukuna Who leaked such fluids from his eyes that Dampened his face for years in the sight of you. Yet his hand just wasn't enough he wanted to feel your lips against his own, Ryomen craved it as if he'd die without such a thing.
"Damn you, woman.. How I ached for you, grieved for you, craved you, and you just- *Silence* *Inhale & Exhale* There you are spouting nonsensical nothings of necromancy... Well I'll be damned if I didn't take advantage of it."
Grieving!Sukuna who sweeped you into his arms with the quickness. Holding you by the fat of your thighs, one hand around waist the other on the arch of her lower back. The kiss that he pulled her into was damn near suffocating~
Grieving!Sukuna who would barely let you break away from such a breathtaking kiss. Each time you attempted to pull back Ryomen would growl, grip you tighter as he bit onto your bottom lip to pull you back in.
Grieving!Sukuna who finally after a bit of coaxing pulled away, then hide his face in the nape of her neck so she couldn't see such an embarrassing sight... The king of Curses, crying.
"Y- You must NEVER speak of this to no man or be prepared to-"
"Meet my untimely demise, My Lord? I would Never utter a word!?"
All he could muster was a deep chuckle to try to cover up his obvious sniffling. "Good Girl, So you truly are my sweet concubine, my naive wife, my little pet~"
"My Lord, I was always yours... Even in death"
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Sorry this probably sucked so much ass, but thank you for giving me a chance to write something I'm not very good at aka fluff!
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cupid-styles · 8 months
Text
ginger ale (sugar daddy!h)
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Harry is a rich CEO and Mia is a grad student that's eight years younger. It just so happens that they may be the answer to one another's problems.
Content warnings: age gap (8 years), sugar daddy dynamic, alcohol, smut, slight daddy kink
Word count: 8k (grab a snack and a bev and enjoy!)
masterlist | talk to me
Mia's never been attracted to older men but somehow, she's found herself sitting at a two-person table at one of the fanciest Italian restaurants in the city, nibbling on the end of the straw in her glass of ginger ale, awaiting the arrival of her date, a man who is eight years older. 
To be fair, she got to the restaurant 20 minutes early and forced herself to sit in her car. She tried occupying herself by scrolling through Instagram and TikTok and playing a few rounds of Candy Crush, but she couldn't shake the anxiety bubbling in her stomach.
She weighed her options: she could drive away, go home, change out of this ridiculously uncomfortable outfit, order Chinese and rot on the couch all night. Or, she could text him here!:), go inside, say she's here for a reservation under Styles (a fake last name, she's almost sure of it), and actually give this guy a chance. 
Mia desperately wishes she doesn't have a moral compass because indeed, all she wanted to do was binge watch New Girl until her eyes feel like they're going to roll out of her head, but she'd feel so shitty for standing her date up. Grumbling, she turned her car off, stuffed her keys in her purse, and walked into the restaurant, 15 minutes early. 
Thankfully the staff doesn't bat an eye at her arrival time, instead escorting her to a rather private corner of the restaurant. 
"This is Mr. Styles' table, but please let us know if you'd prefer something more suitable to your needs," The hostess explains as she places entree and drink menus in front of Mia. 
"Oh, this is great, thank you," She replies, trying not to let any inklings of shock seep through her voice. This guy had his own table? Her eyes bulge as she glances over the wine list, her eyebrows raised slightly at the triple digit numbers accompanying fancy French names. How rich did he have to be to dine here that often?
Mia's phone buzzes, tearing her gaze away from the overwhelming menu. It's Harry, her date, who says he'll be there soon. Sorry you're waiting on me — order a bottle of wine for us, whatever you like, he'd written, making Mia roll her eyes. He must think far too highly of her if he thinks she knew what any of these wines even are. 
She settles on her comfort drink instead, a ginger ale filled to the brim with ice. If this wasn't such a nice place, she would pop ice cubes between her teeth, but she figures that's a major faux pas for first dates at restaurants where a plate of pasta cost upwards of $50. 
Despite meeting on a dating app and familiarizing herself with his appearance, Mia knows Harry has arrived before she even sees him. The staff seems to stand up just a little straighter and the baseline hum of conversation tapers off.
When she looks up, she understands exactly why: Harry, whose last name apparently really was Styles, commands a certain presence the second he enters a room. He's striking, fashionable, and charming, floating through the dining area with a luxurious air. Everyone — including Mia — seems simultaneously intimidated and turned on. 
Thank god she decided to go on this date. 
. . .
Harry is so tired.
Physically, he's been running his body into the ground for the past 8 years or so, ever since he took on the role of CEO at his uncle's company when he retired. He knows that he was insanely fortunate and privileged, and 27 was a rather ridiculous age to run an entire conglomerate. As a result, he feels the incessant need to prove himself and make sure every single one of his employees feel taken care of. 
So, he doesn't have much a social life.
He has his core group of friends from college. He's close with his family. He has friends at work, and he attends numerous charity events and galas as an investor. In hindsight, he has it all — except for a romantic partner.
Harry doesn't think that you need a boyfriend or girlfriend for life to be complete, but he's certainly guilty of missing it. He hasn't had a serious partner since college, a sweet girl named Zyla, but they broke up shortly after graduating. Since then, Harry has gone on tons of dates — he knows he had so much, and he wants to share it with someone. However, it seems that all of those people are after the same thing: wealth.
He understands it. Truly, he does, and he doesn't think those people were necessarily bad. But after years upon years of shitty first dates, he's exhausted. His best friend Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah suggested he try out dating apps, so they helped him sign up for Tinder and Bumble, where were fine enough. They were good at helping him scope out people he'd actually mesh well with, but they usually ended in one night stands, never to be heard from again.
Harry is 35. He doesn't want wild sex with strangers anymore.
After a date at a bar with a guy who didn't even pretend like he was interested in him romantically, Harry snapped. If money was all he was good for, he would be upfront about it from here on out. It had gotten him everything else he could've ever dreamed for in this life — a gorgeous penthouse apartment, designer clothes and shoes, non-profit donations galore — so why not just use it to find his forever partner?
That night, after polishing off a bottle of red wine to himself, he swiped onto his dating app of choice, clicked on settings, and deleted his existing bio. Sarah had initially suggested making it about what he liked and what he was looking for, but he was eager to rid his account of its current description: "Born in London, permanent NYC transplant. Love art, books, and fashion. Send me your favorite Fleetwood Mac song." 
Without a second thought, he typed in a new bio: CEO. Let me take care of you. 
. . .
Harry Styles makes Mia extremely nervous.
He hasn't even sat down yet and her stomach already feels like it's in her throat, her lips parted slightly as she took in his presence. He looks so effortlessly cool, and she's nearly positive she saw his trousers on the Gucci Instagram page last weekend.
"Hey," Harry grins as he approaches the table, shedding his body of the navy blue blazer he wore, "Mia, right?"
"Mhm." She nods tightly, noting at how the waiter pulled Harry's seat out for him, placing the menus out in front of him.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Harry," he says as he settles into his seat. He glances up at the waiter and shoots him a charming smile. "Thank you, John."
John, apparently, quickly shuffles away. Mia squeezes her hands into tight fists under the table while Harry glances over the wine menu, though she was almost positive he was doing it as a courtesy if he knows everyone that works here.
"Did you have a chance to decide on a wine?" he asks, glancing up with raised eyebrows. 
"Um, no," Mia mumbles, "I just got a... ginger ale."
She feels incredibly dumb now. What was she even doing here? She's wearing clothes from the clearance section of ASOS and a pair of platform oxfords, meanwhile, Harry's outfit looks like it cost her entire monthly rent. 
"Oh, do you not drink? I'm sorry for assuming." 
"I do," Mia replies with a shake of her head, her eyes drifting down back down to the drink list, "I just... don't really know any of these... and I also don't know how to pronounce most of them."
"That's okay. Is it alright if I pick one?"
Mia nods and rolls her lips into her mouth. She wonders if it was too late to escape — can she say she has to use the bathroom and try to sneak out the window? This has to be some kind of prank. 
"Once we get our entrees, we can talk out the details of the arrangement, should you be interested," Harry murmurs, closing the faux leather of the main menu, "I'm not sure if you came prepared with certain stipulations, but I'm happy to hear any that you have."
Mia's eyes bulge, leaning forward slightly with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm... what?"
Of course, John decided to come back just as Harry's jaw ticked, looking just as confused. 
"What can I get you two to eat this evening?" he asks, though Mia barely listens as Harry lists off some random wine, followed by a pasta dish. John looks down at Mia, who swallows harshly, grimacing.
"I'll do the same," she jumbles out. He nods and shoots her a smile before stepping away to put their orders in. 
"What do you mean by arrangement?" Mia hisses out, leaning forward and keeping her voice low.
"You're joking, right?" Harry asks, a slight crinkle forming between his brows. 
"Do you... what do you think this is?" Mia demands as she digs her fingernails into her palms. Does he think she's a prostitute or an escort? She doesn't think anything on her profile gives off that vibe, and while she knows she isn't dressed as nicely as he is, it isn't enough to warrant such an assumption. 
"You... you read my bio, didn't you?" Harry questions, sitting back in his seat, "You understand what I'm looking for?"
"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, Harry." Mia's teeth are gritted, her jaw set in annoyance. 
He leans forward again, glancing over his shoulder to make sure none of the waitstaff is walking by. In a hushed tone, he mumbles something intelligible out. 
"What? I didn't hear you." 
"I'mlookingforasugarbaby."
"A what? Can you speak up a little?"
"A sugar baby!" Harry whispers out aggressively, clutching the corners of the table. Mia raises her eyebrows in shock and surprise, doing a mental recap of what she knew about Harry — she never would have swiped for him if that's all he was looking for, mainly because the whole concept made her too nervous. Their virtual conversations had been tame, consisting of normal questions about their occupations and hobbies. How did she miss this?
"I... I didn't know that's what you were looking for," Mia replies slowly, "Your profile didn't say anything about that..."
"Yes, it did!" Harry nearly whines, "'Let me take care of you?' That literally implies a sugar baby situation!"
"Are you serious?" Mia asks, her face twisted in a cross between confusion and disgust, "You think people understand that's what that means?"
"Obviously!"
Mia shakes her head and grabs her napkin from her lap, tossing it on the table. She feels so discouraged and frustrated, there's no way this Harry guy wasn't a total creep. 
"Wait— Mia, don't go," Harry says, following her lead and standing from his seat, "Please, I'm sorry about the confusion. This isn't a reflection on you whatsoever. Can we just talk? I'll explain why I'm looking for this type of thing, treat you to dinner, no strings attached."
Mia sighs. Harry's expression and tone seem genuine and if she's being completely honest, a little naive, too. She's already here, hungry, and dressed up. It wouldn't hurt to stay.
"Fine," she mutters, plopping back down in her seat, "But you're getting me the cheesecake for dessert. And you're paying for my parking."
A small smile wiggles its way onto Harry's lips. "I'd be honored."
Mia has to look down at the tablecloth so he doesn't see the blush warming her cheeks. 
. . .
Over large plates of pasta slathered in decadent sauces, Harry explains why he's in the market for a sugar baby. 
"I've never looked for this type of relationship before—"
"Yeah, no kidding."
"Anyway, I'm so used to people only being interested in me for my money so I figured why not try to use it to my advantage, I guess. I'd want it to be as casual as possible... like I really am just looking for someone to come to events with me, maybe hang out on the weekends and go out on dates if we clicked enough."
Mia nods her head as she chews her penne vodka thoughtfully. "And what would I get in exchange?"
"Well, what do you want?" Harry asks through wine stained lips, "Do you have any bills you want paid? Student loan debt? Clothes, electronics, furniture?"
"How rich are you?" Mia questions before sipping on her second ginger ale of the night. 
"I'm... definitely wealthy," Harry replies carefully, "My net worth is in the millions, if that tells you anything."
"You could've just said you're a millionaire."
"Are you always this bratty?"
She huffs, leaning back against the plushy velvet of her chair. She takes the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to sincerely contemplate the logistics of this situation: She stayed for the free meal from the rather... attractive, and apparently disgustingly rich man, but was she seriously, actually considering going through with this?
No. It was crazy.
Wasn't it?
"I can see you're having some sort of internal moral battle," Harry murmurs after taking a sip of wine. "I told you, no strings attached here. If you're not interested, it's more than okay."
"I don't know," Mia says, breathing out through her nose as she lowered her fork, "I would be lying if I said I didn't need the... financial assistance, I guess."
"Let's talk money, then," he shrugs, leaning his elbows on the crisp table cloth. "What do you need help with?"
Mia hadn't grown up poor, but she certainly had never been rich. Her parents had modest careers and were now retired. They taught her the importance of saving and paying her bills on time. They instilled education in her as top priority and never pressured her to pick a career that would make her the most money, instead pushing values of true happiness and satisfaction. It's honestly how she ended up in her second year of grad school with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt under her belt. 
"Well, I'm a student and I work part-time. I'm in grad school to become a social worker. I pick up shifts at the university's library when I'm not in class, so probably like... three or four days out of the week."
Harry nods, listening intently. His gaze is intense and it makes Mia's face warm. 
"That seems like a lot," he says, a twinge of sympathy creeping into his tone, "You must be tired."
Mia shrugs her shoulders. "I guess."
Admittedly, she's uncomfortable with the apparent empathy Harry emits. She's used to being fairly independent and working herself to the point of burnout, solely because it was what'd she been doing since she was an undergrad. She's never entertained the thought of someone helping her out, let alone with finances. 
Pursing his lips, he nods slowly before folding his hands together. "Here's what I'm willing to propose. I usually have one or two events a week, sometimes work-related, sometimes just appearances or charity things. If you'd be willing to be my date to at least one of them, I'm happy to have you quit your job and supplement that income. I can also pay off some of your student loan debt, however much you're comfortable with. I'm more than willing to work around your schedule, so if you can't attend something, that's absolutely fine. If you're struggling with rent or other bills, just let me know, and I can take care of those, too."
Mia's mouth goes dry. Harry speaks entirely too casually about money, let alone paying off massive things in her name that she'd been stressing out about for years. She quickly tucks her straw back between her lips and takes a hearty sip of ginger ale, focusing on the earthy taste and carbonation filling her mouth.
"Why?" She blurts out after swallowing, "You don't know me. I'm just some girl in grad school. For all you know, you'll take me to one of these events and I'll embarrass the shit out of you, or someone will figure out how we got involved. Isn't that worse?"
He hums, contemplating the points Mia had made. They're valid, sure, but they weren't deterring him either. 
"What would you have to gain from embarrassing me?" He asks, rolling his lips into his mouth contemplatively. "I've been embarrassing myself for years by going out on dates with people who only want my money to begin with. We both need help and this is the best solution I could think of on my end. There's no pressure to agree, but I just think... well, maybe, we could be the answer to each other's problems."
Mia's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth when John reappears, asking if they wanted any to-go boxes or dessert. 
She doesn't order any cheesecake, but she does text Harry late that night as she lays alone in her bed, mentally running back through the night for the thousandth time: If you're still interested, I'll do it. 
. . .
Mia doesn't hear from Harry for a few days. 
Her mind runs rampant when she doesn't have her nose buried in a textbook doing homework or sitting through three-hour long lectures. She can't help but wonder if he's decided it's not a good fit, or maybe the entire situation was ridiculous to begin with. From what she knew about sugar babies — or what she thought she knew — was that they typically involved some sort of sexual favors in exchange for money, but Harry hadn't mentioned anything about that. All he asked for was for her to accompany him at an event once or twice a week, and he was willing to pay for her bills and chunks of her student loans. 
Maybe the entire thing was just too good to be true. 
So by day three, that's what Mia assumed. After all, he was a 35 year old millionaire — he definitely could do far better than a stressed out student. 
She has an apple cinnamon candle burning and one of those eight hour long lo-fi YouTube videos on her TV, hoping the beat-ridden songs would somehow seep some level of productivity into her brain. She was working on a paper she had due in a couple of days, but she was only four out of 12 pages in, and she had the assignment for the past month. 
She was just about ready to give up, blow out her candle, and tucker in for the night when her phone buzzes, the loud vibration echoing against the wood of her coffee table, making her jump. She didn't know what time it is, but she knew it was too late for any normal person to be texting her.
That's why she's only partially surprised when Harry's name pops up on her screen.
I have to go to a charity thing at a museum tomorrow night. It starts at 7 pm. Would you be available? 
Mia was slightly confused by this — she thought that he would reach back out at some point to iron out the fine details, but it seemed as though Harry didn't care for those. She mentally goes over her schedule for tomorrow; she has classes from 10 am to 3 pm and she should work on this paper when she gets back. 
What time would it end?
Nearly immediately after firing off that text, she tapped at the screen again: also, what are you doing up? It's almost 2 am.
The familiar speech bubble popped up almost instantly. Mia wedged her thumbnail between her teeth, biting at it as she watched the three dots. 
It'll probably be over by 11 but I can always get you home earlier if you need. Also, I could ask you the same thing. 
She pressed her lips together. There was so much she didn't know about Harry and yet, she couldn't help the way her body warmed ever so slightly at the thought of spending the night on his arm. 
11 works for me. Should I know anything about the event or you before we do this? I don't want to embarrass myself by not knowing basic facts about you if I end up talking to people.
Mia's surprised when the dots immediately pop back up, but she supposes he's not doing much at 2 in the morning. She tucks her legs under her body and grabs the fuzzy blanket draped over the back of the couch as his next messages comes through.
Are you suggesting we play some sort of fuckboy 20 questions game?
She snickers at that and imagines the way his eyes widened teasingly, as if her request was as outlandish as asking him to come over for a late night hookup.
Which she would never do, and promises she hasn't fantasized about doing it every night since she saw Harry last.
Call it what you want, I just don't want to get kicked out of some fancy event because I don't even know your middle name.
She takes up her decades-long nervous habit of nibbling on her thumbnail when her phone starts vibrating in her palm, this time signifying an incoming call from Harry. She initially wonders if it's some sort of butt dial, panicking about answering it, but by the fifth ring she figures he would've caught on by now, so she quickly presses the green button and lifts it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"You didn't think we were gonna play 20 questions over text, did you?"
. . .
Harry thinks he could stay up until sunrise talking to Mia.
Conversation flows naturally, like they're childhood best friends and have known each other their whole lives. If he hadn't been born eight years before her in a different country, he would actually wonder if that were the case, but youthful, snappy remarks are enough to remind him that there's no way this girl ever existed in his life before. He would've remembered her, even if they'd only met for a moment.
They talk about anything and everything to soothe Mia's nerves about not knowing basic facts about one another. Her middle name is Lucille and she grew up in Connecticut with an older sister. They bond about being the youngest sibling and having divorced parents. Her comfort food is boxed macaroni and cheese, which makes Harry's nose wrinkle, though she swears it's the perfect meal to eat after a stressful day.
"What should I wear tomorrow night?" Mia asks sometime around 3:15, when their conversation begins to dwindle down. Harry hums and picks at a loose thread on his vintage tee-shirt. 
"Any sort of dress will do," he replies casually, "I can always have my stylist send some options over if you'd like, just text me your size."
She snorts at that. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on that. You wore head-to-toe Gucci the other night and I'm pretty sure designer shit runs, like, three sizes too small on women."
"Point taken," Harry admits, backing off. "It's not too fancy of an event so don't stress. Do you have anything in mind?"
"Mm, maybe. I have a pink slip dress I wear on dates sometimes. Do you think that would be alright?" 
Harry's stomach twists at the thought of Mia going out on dates with other people, but he quickly shoves the feeling down. 
"Sounds pretty," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "Send me a picture before tomorrow night so I can match you."
Mia smiles to herself. "That's cute. I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?"
"Yeah, my driver will pick you up at 6:30. Sleep tight, Mi."
"G'night, Harry," she says softly before hanging up the phone. She tries to ignore the way her heart warms at the new use of a nickname. 
. . .
Mia has had a bad day.
She stayed up too late last night talking to Harry, and she's trying not to give too much weight to the fact that butterflies invade her stomach every time she thinks about their two-hour long conversation. She snoozed her alarm to the last possible minute so she couldn't take a shower before class this morning and her professor called on her when she wasn't paying attention, so she stumbled through some bullshit answer about child psychology like an idiot. 
She didn't have time to grab lunch between her second and third classes, so by the time she got home, she was starving, tired, and grumpy, but she had to get ready for Harry's charity event. She stuffs a bagel down her throat and hopes there's decent food before jumping in the shower, pulling on her dress, and doing just enough with her makeup and hair. She's additionally grouchy that she didn't have enough time today to make a dent in her paper that's now due in only three days, but she knows she can only blame herself for poor time management. 
When she receives a text from Harry that says "Here x", she tries to take a deep breath to rid herself of the day's worries and anxieties. Typically around this time, she'd be elbow deep in a carton of lo mein from her favorite Chinese restaurant and preparing a eucalyptus-scented bath, but she reminds herself that she already agreed to do this for Harry. And the money.
Her platform sandals click against the sidewalk outside of her home, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of a sleek black town car with a man standing outside of it. 
"Mia?" he asks, his lips pressed in a tight line. She nods and he opens the door for her, motioning for her to get inside. 
When she climbs in, she sees Harry on the interior, his thumbs tapping against the screen of his phone. He glances up to look at her and her breath stalls for a moment. He's wearing a baby pink silk shirt underneath his blazer, matching the exact shade of her dress.
"Hey," Harry smiles, tucking his phone in his breast pocket, "You look beautiful."
"Your shirt." she points out dumbly.
"What about it? Do you not like it?"
"I love it," she blurts out as the man shuts the car door closed, "I didn't think you were serious about the matching thing."
"That's silly. Why wouldn't I be serious about that?"
"I don't know." she mumbles with a shrug. 
"Are you gonna buckle up?" Harry asks, nudging his chin in the direction of her seatbelt. She scrambles, feeling embarrassed as she hoists the strap across her chest, clicking it in. The car gently buzzes to life and glides down the road and out of Mia's neighborhood, just as she realizes she's definitely never been in a vehicle this nice before.
"How was your day?" Harry questions from beside her. Her fingers are wrung together in an awkward position in her lap and she has to clear her throat before answering, tugging the material of her dress down to cover more of her thighs. 
"It was actually kinda shitty," Mia admits with a bittersweet smile. "Woke up late and didn't really have time to eat too much and my lectures were boring. And I have this kind of big paper due in a few days that I'm stumped on, so that's that." 
Harry wrinkles his eyebrows and she can't tell if it's because he's disappointed or about to reprimand her. She prepares herself for the former based on the age difference, assuming the worst from assumptions she's made.
"I told you we would work around your schedule. If you need to do homework tonight that's perfectly fine, I can have Reese turn around and drop you back off."
Mia's slightly surprised at his soft-spoken response and she relaxes her shoulders at it. Harry notices, but he doesn't say anything.
"It's okay. I still have three days... well two since I probably won't work on it tonight." 
"What are you stuck on?" he asks, pressing his lips together. Mia glances down at them for just a moment, but she instantly notices their natural muted pink hue. It reminds her of their first date, when they were stained red from wine. "I obviously don't know much about social work, but sometimes it helps to talk things out."
Mia nods at that before shrugging her shoulders, "I think it's mainly just an environmental thing. I spend most of my days on campus so I just want to go home when classes are done, and my neighbors are loud and I get too distracted at home. I can manage it fine, but I usually need an impending deadline to pressure me to work."
"Mm, yeah, I've been there," Harry replies with a chuckle. "Well, if you need a change of scenery, my place is always available. I have an office and guest room and such, whatever suits you. Won't even bother you to play 20 questions."
She lets out a laugh and shakes her head. "I admit, I didn't mind that distraction."
"Ah, so I'm a distraction now?" 
He has that cheeky grin on his face — the teasing one that makes her blush and her heart stutter — and she giggles, forcing herself to look away so he doesn't see the way her face warms. 
Maybe tonight won't be so bad.
. . .
Harry likes having Mia on his arm. A lot.
Maybe a little too much, really, but he's blaming it on the two glasses of wine and the lack of food in his stomach. Like Mia, he'd had a busy day with minimal time to eat, let alone breathe, and he probably would've ditched this entire thing if she hadn't agreed to be his date. 
He's not even that special of a guest here. He was a frequent donor to the art museums in the city, and he'd supplied the exhibition with a couple of thousand dollars to get it off the ground. He didn't do it for anything other than the fact that he had too much money and didn't know what to do with it, and his sister always asked to visit this particular museum every time she was in town.
Harry discovers that Mia is actually quite good at schmoozing and chatting with wealthy people. She plays the part of Harry's girlfriend well, and the sight makes his throat dry. She's sweet and kind to everyone they talk to, even if they bring up points that are painfully boring, and she wraps her hand around his as they meander around the room, picking at h'ordeuvres and refilling their glasses.
It almost feels natural.
Sometime around 10 pm, though, he can feel her posture slump slightly and yawns begin to escape her. He excuses them from the conversation he was just barely paying attention it and smoothly guides her with his hand at the small of her back. 
"'s a matter?" she whispers, her eyes widening. "Did I do something wrong?"
"What? No, of course not. You're getting tired though, hm? I wanna make sure I get you home at a reasonable hour."
Mia blinks a few times, a look of confusion crossing over her face. "You said 'til 11 though, right?"
"There's no reason for us to stay any longer and you've already done so much by being here, Mi," Harry murmurs as he fires off a quick text to let Reese know they're ready to be picked up. "Lemme get you home, okay?" 
She doesn't argue any more at that, and that's how he can tell she's genuinely exhausted. He smiles gently and shrugs his blazer off, then wraps it around her shoulders. 
"It's gonna be cold out there, temperature was slated to drop a bit," he explains shortly, swallowing at the sight of her in his jacket. "Reese will be here any minute if you're ready to go, though."
Mia nods. As Harry turns on his heel to exit the building, she reaches out without thinking, intertwining their fingers together. He turns instantly, wanting to make sure that she was okay, but all he sees are wide eyes and a furious blush.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she scrambles, dropping his hand, "I... don't know why I did that, I'm sorry, I'm tired."
Harry smirks. "We can hold hands if you want, babe."
She scowls at his teasing tone but nevertheless reaches outward once more to grasp his hand in hers. 
"If you make fun of me for this when I'm sober and not as sleepy, I'll kick you in the shins."
He lets out a loud laugh, "Wouldn't dream of it."
. . .
Harry doesn't hear from Mia for two days. 
He tries to distract himself with work and the gym, but he's lying if he says he's not checking his phone every five minutes for a text from her. He wants to message her first, but it's been years since he's had... feelings, whatever they may be, for someone, and he doesn't want to overwhelm her. So for two days, he busies himself with going over reports, bringing work home and passing out on the couch with his laptop still open. 
Finally, on Thursday night, Harry has Friends on TV while he scrolls mindlessly on Instagram. His phone suddenly alerts him of an incoming call, and his fingers itch at the sight of Mia's name. He doesn't even have it in him to wait 10 seconds before he picks up.
"Harry?" She sounds stressed as he rushes out his name before he's able to say hello. 
"Mia?" He echoes her panicked tone, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"
"My paper is due in five hours and I still have four pages to go and I— I don't know what to do, I'm freaking out, I'm so tired and I just— it's worth 70% of my grade and I'll fail the class if I don't—" 
"Mi, breathe," Harry cuts her off, placing his elbows on his knees. "What do you need? Do you need to talk it out, read it out loud to me?" 
It's silent for a moment and butterflies invade his stomach, wondering if he's pressed too hard. Maybe she just needed to vent.
"I was actually wondering if I could come over and work," Mia says softly. "It's fine if not, I'll be okay—" 
"Yes." Harry replies, quick enough to make himself grimace. "Um, yes, of course, the offer still stands. I'll send Reese for you right now and I'll set you up wherever you want." 
She breathes a sigh of relief into the receiver, mumbling out a series of "okay"s. 
"Did you eat, darling?" 
"N-no. I came straight home after work and I... just didn't have time to cook anything."
"Work?" Harry repeats, flashing back to their date two weeks ago, when he told her she could quit her job. "I told you I would supplement your income if you left." 
"Well, um... you didn't exactly... pay for me for the event a few days ago and I just thought maybe our... arrangement, um, changed."
"Oh, sweetheart," Harry sighs, lifting his hand to his hair, pulling at the messy roots. "I'm so sorry, I thought... I assumed you would ask when you needed money. I've never done this with anyone else and I didn't even think." 
She swallows thickly and pauses on packing her bag to bring to his house. 
"Listen, let me order some food and when you get here, we'll work on your paper and I'll send you some money to make up for the other night, alright? We'll iron out the rest of the details, too. I don't want you to keep working yourself to the bone."
"Okay," Mia breathes into the receiver, and the muffled shuffling in the background resumes. "Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Harry. That sounds good."
"Of course. Reese is on his way, I'll see you soon." 
"See you."
. . .
Mia wants to cry when Harry unlocks the door of his penthouse apartment. 
She's so tired and burnt out and all she could focus on the drive over was whether or not her thesis was good and if she had enough points and data to reach the word count. 
She wants to collapse the moment she steps inside, brushing past Harry with a small, forced smile, who is already in a pair of sweatpants, a worn tee-shirt, fuzzy socks and a pair of reading glasses. 
The tears actually start when she glances over to the kitchen island to see a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a ginger ale. 
"Eat," he murmurs as he reaches his arm out to take Mia's bag. She's stuck in her place though, eyes watering at the sight of her comfort meal in Harry's million dollar apartment. "Mi? You alright?"
She blinks the tears away and parts her lips, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You remembered." 
Harry smiles gently and nods, pressing a hand to her upper back and guiding her to the dining room table. "Of course I did."
He shuffles down the hallway as Mia stuffs a few forkfuls of macaroni in her mouth. She doesn't realize how utterly starving she is until right now, and she has to admit that having some food in her system is helping soothe her anxiety. 
Harry meanders back out as she's sipping on her ginger ale, "Okay, I set your stuff up in my office. Plugged your computer in, put your phone on do not disturb. I'll be in my room if you need anything." 
"Wait," Mia jumps up, glass in hand. "Uh... I'm sure you worked all day and the last thing you want is to hang out while I write this paper, but would you... stick around, maybe hear some of my ideas out? I tend to get a little loopy when I'm stressed." 
A dimpled grin wiggles its way onto Harry's face. 
"I'd love to, Mia."
. . .
"Harry? Can you read this and tell me if it makes sense?"
It's been two hours of quiet typing, discussing Mia's thesis, and Harry playing mindless games on his phone until she asks him to go over something with her. He's exhausted — they both are, but she only has an hour before the deadline and they have no choice but to keep trucking on. 
She hands him her laptop and he peeks through his glasses, reading the highlighted paragraph. It's something about community-based learning opportunities connecting to abuse victims, and while the only relevant knowledge he has is from a freshman psychology course, Mia is knowledgeable and great at what she does. She breaks down concepts in a way that's easy to understand and listening to her talk about something she's passionate about makes his heart swell with joy. 
"Looks great, Mi," he murmurs as he passes her laptop back, "How much more do you have left?"
"That was actually it." She says with a bright smile despite her tired eyes. "I can submit it now as long as all that sounds good."
Harry grins and rises from the en-suite couch, stretching his arms out. Mia can't help but notice the sliver of his torso revealed as he bends back slightly and she swallows, refocusing back to the screen. 
"D'you wanna stay over, darling? It's already 3 and I bought a six-pack of ginger ale that I won't drink." 
Mia's heart tightens as she clicks 'submit', shutting her laptop and looking up at him. 
"Are you sure that's alright? You've done so much for me already, I don't wanna be a bother." 
"Not a bother," Harry mumbles, nodding his head in the direction of the hall, "Also, send me your Venmo so I can send some money over, hm?" 
"Harry— wait, about that," she scrambles up from the desk, wringing her hands together behind her back as she steps towards him, "I don't want you to pay me for that night." 
"What?"
"I don't know if this is... presumptuous of me, but I had a really nice time being your date. And I don't want you to pay me for that time."
"Oh," Harry mutters, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "You need money though, don't you?"
"Well, I'm not at your status but that's not why I'm here. Or why I went with you the other night."
"What?"
Mia swallows and takes a deep breath. "I like hanging around you, Harry. I like who you are. I don't want this to be a financial exchange if... if you want the same thing." 
"Really?" Harry asks, blinking owlishly at the girl, "You... you don't want me for my money?"
She shakes her head. "No. I don't."
"I like you," he blurts out, making a smile appear on her lips. "I don't want that arrangement either." 
Her shoulders relax and her smile turns into a grin. He steps closer to her and tentatively reaches out to press a hand to her hip, waiting to see if she'll reject his touch. 
"Can I kiss you?" Harry asks softly, glancing down at her mouth. "I've been dying to since that first night." 
Mia nods quickly, breathing out an affirmative answer. He leans forward and smears their lips together, nearly moaning out in relief from the feeling of closeness he'd been dying for. She stands on her tippy-toes and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her chest up against his. It's warm and wet and so nice, but he forces himself to break away, leaning her forehead against his. 
"That was nice." she murmurs, little puffs of air leaving her mouth. He nods eagerly and squeezes her hip.
"Perfect," he whispers. "Just... don't wanna rush things."
Mia raises an eyebrow, glancing down when she realizes Harry's hard length against her thigh. He grimaces in embarrassment — typically he's able to control himself far better, not getting a boner from a two minute kiss, but he's been dreaming about finally getting to kiss her. 
"Oh," she sighs, and Harry swears he notices a slight glint in her eyes when she glances up at him. "You feel.. big."
He breathes out a chuckle, "Don't stroke my ego, sweetheart, can only take so much tonight."
"Can I... am I allowed to touch?" Mia questions, her voice soft and peeked with curious. Her eyelashes flutter as she peeps up at him, biting down on her bottom lip. 
"Only if you want to. Don't feel pressured to do anything, it'll go away on its own."
Harry's honest in his answer, not wanting her to feel obligated by any means, but he's lying if he says he isn't thrilled when she slowly sinks to her knees, palming at his crotch on her way down. 
"Fuck," he mutters, swallowing harshly at her sweet doe eyes batting up at him. 
"When's the last time someone took care of you?" she murmurs as she gently tugs his sweatpants down, leaving him in a navy blue pair of briefs. His cock is nearly bursting out of them and she licks her lips at the visual, her mouth parting slightly.
"Doesn't matter," Harry replies in a strained voice. She pulls his underwear down to reveal his painfully hard cock, slapping up against his lower stomach with a bubble of pre-cum at the tip. "Wanna take care of you, darling."
Mia giggles at that and begins to pepper kisses along the tops of his thighs. Her fingertips wiggle between his legs, just below his balls, encouraging him to part them so she can sponge kisses along the skin there. 
"Can I touch, please?" she asks, looking back up at him. He nods and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, groaning when her hand wraps around the base, squeezing lightly. "I was right. Your cock is big and pretty."
"You're gonna make me cum just from that dirty mouth." Harry mutters, lulling his head to the side as she slowly pumps his length. She moves her mouth to hover over his length and spits, letting saliva dribble from her mouth onto his skin. The mix of her spit and his pre-cum are enough lubrication to help her jerk him at a steady pace, and she smiles when she hears his choppy breathing from above. 
Mia mouths over the tip of his cock and sticks her tongue out, licking up the leaking fluid. "Mm, you taste good," she mumbles, almost as if Harry wasn't meant to hear her, "I want you to fuck my face and cum down my throat, please."
He chokes at her casual tone and reaches down to thread his fingers through her hair. "Are you sure, baby? 'M perfectly content with just watching you on your knees like this."
With her cheek pressed against his thigh, she smiles brightly at the use of the pet name, still nodding her head at his question. 
"Mhm. I usually don't like deep-throating but your cock is really nice... wanna taste you and feel you burst in my mouth."
"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."
She lets out a giggle as Harry slowly guides his cock into her mouth. She takes him with ease, relaxing her throat until she's taken most of him. He inhales sharply through his nose as she takes initiative and begins bobbing up and down, drool starting to leak from the sides of her mouth. He groans as he watches her, growing comfortable when he sees how eager she is, and moves his hips in time with her movements until her nose is flush against his pelvis. 
"Fuck, Mia," Harry moans when she gags around his tip. Mascara-stained tears flow from her eyes and down her cheeks, but she doesn't give an inkling a discomfort, only doubling down on her efforts with a muffled whimper. 
She releases for a moment and he's prepared to ask if he's being too rough as she wipes spit from her chin, "You can go harder, I'm fine. Also, is it alright if I call you daddy?" 
"Jesus Christ," Harry guffaws, allowing his head to duck back fully now, "Yeah, sweetheart, choke yourself on daddy's cock."
Mia grins and squeezes her thighs, instantly diving back in. Harry bucks his hips, fucking her throat deeper and faster as his orgasm quickly unravels in his body. Lightning zips throughout him, his groans quickly getting louder every time she gags around his length. 
"I'm gonna cum," Harry warns, the familiar feeling building. He looks down at her and watches her greedily take him, and that's all he needs before he's exploding. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, fuck—"
He's filling up her mouth with rapid ropes of warm cum and she moans at his taste, letting him empty his balls and continue using her throat. He breathes harshly as his peak slowly ends and she slides off of his sensitive cock, cum spilling out the corners of her mouth.
Without a word, he pulls her up and surges forward, pressing their lips together. She squeaks in surprise but eagerly kisses him back, their tongues swapping the fluid he just emptied into her mouth. They part with harsh breaths, Mia clutching his shirt with tight fists. 
"Was that okay?" she asks as he wipes the remaining mix of spit and cum from her lip. 
He smirks and shakes his head, "You're silly for even asking that. It was amazing."
"Mm, good."
"C'mon, I'm not letting you go home at this hour. You can stay in the guest room if you don't want to sleep with me."
"I just swallowed your cum, I think you owe me a cuddle, Styles." 
He lets out a loud laugh and tugs at her hand, out in the direction of the hallway and to his bedroom, "Whatever you want, darling."
. . .
The next morning, Mia wakes up in a huge, comfy mattress, surrounded by luxurious tufts of white duvet. 
For a minute, she forgets where she is, until she's reminded of the night before. She blushes at the overwhelming happiness that floods her body, remembering the way Harry held her all night and pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead every time he woke up.
When she opens her eyes, she's expecting to see him, but she's met with an empty mattress. She sits up with furrowed brows until she zeroes in on a folded note on his pillow with her name and a heart next to it.
Smiling gently, she opens it. 
Morning, sweetheart. Got called into the office early and you looked too sweet to wake up. Make yourself at home, feel free to invade my closet or fridge. 
Leaving you my credit card to treat yourself to something nice, too — just because we're not in this arrangement anymore doesn't mean I won't take care of you financially. 
xx daddy
Mia squeals and falls back against the bed.
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soraviie · 1 year
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he's not your bias.txt
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━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ masterlist
━ about: fluff ━  pictures taken from Pinterest
━ a/n: requested and thank you for it! Please, like, reblog and leave a comment, you know the drill :]
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NAMJOON: "It's Yoongi, isn't it?"
"Please, shut up."
"You shut up!...traitor."
Sighing, you adjusted your spine from where it was comfortably settled in the mattress and turn to the other side where Namjoon was grumbling, fingers tightly gripping the duvet and stare transfixed on a meaningless spot in the ceiling. His jaw was slowly working up into a full blown clench.
Cautiously, you reach to tug his hand into yours, rubbing slow circles on the back of his palm. Thankfully, he allows this and in due time the tension leaves his tightened body.
"Why do you think it's Yoongi?" you wonder aloud once more. When you accidentally let it slip that he wasn't the first one who caught your attention, he said he didn't care, tossing that remark over his shoulder but you should have known better.
"I don't know," he trails off, shrugging. "He's cool, quiet, determined, caring. A perfect guy, really."
"So are you."
You smile into the duskened air of the dim bedroom, hoping this will be the straw the breaks the back of his worried camel but then he turns up his nose, offended.
"Not enough to be your bias."
Your head slams against the pillow - exhausted.
"I'm with you not him. I admit there are a lot of admirable qualities he has but it's just that. To me he's an idol, but you're Kim Namjoon."
Tepidly, he takes the bait and glances at you from the corner of the eye, imperceptibly scooching closer, sheets rustling in the quiet.
"And is he so great? This Kim Namjoon?"
"The greatest," you press a soft kiss against his cheek. "Now be a good boy and go to sleep."
You place his hand firmly over your waist, relaxing once more and you hear him do the same thing as well. He did not need to know who you actually biased - that certain bandmate would get his ego stroked far too much than even a fan such as yourself could allow.
YOONGI: "I'm completely fine about meeting him! Now just pretend we don't know each other and be casual about it."
Yoongi draws a deep inhale, refusing to let your hand go.
"There's only two of us here," he remarks, pointedly glimpsing around his studio. The air was laced with the stench of paint whilst the canvas you both worked on dried away in the dark corner.
"So? I could be a new staff member."
"You're sitting in my lap."
You glance down to where your thighs rested on top of his.
"Perhaps you're a pervert," you state off-handedly. This offends him and rolling his eyes, Yoongi unceremoniously shoves you onto the floor. It was exactly in this moment when you fought to preserve your balance, the door cracks open and to your great mortification Jimin comes in.
The easy smile on his lips drops faster than your gut can and with gaze hastily flickering between you and Yoongi, he steps cautiously forth.
"Oh, hello," he greets, trying to mask the awkwardness streaming out of his very pores. "I don't think I've seen you around...?"
"Yes, I'm just..." you floundered, quickly growing breathless in the presence of someone shaped like a sheer perfection. The pixels truly did not do him justice.
"Your biggest fan," Yoongi concluded dryly from his seat. "So if you could be so kind and sign a scarf or something, I'd be grateful. This one is slobbering up all my studio."
You could only turn around with mouth wide open despite no sound falling out of it. Innocently, Yoongi meets your gaze, daring to be so aggravating and proceeding to flutter his unfairly pretty eyelashes.
"Oh," Jimin laughs brightly in the background. "I don't mind signing something..."
Whilst the blood in your head boils to the degree, a straying fear arises of it simply pOpPing off your head, Jimin so graciously loops his signature on the back of a ripped note containing your and Yoongi's grocery list. Once he finishes, he lifts his head, gives an absolutely paralyzing smile and...
...winks.
WINKS!
"Ehhhhheheheheh, thankyou."
You think that somewhere in the back of Yoongi's throat there rises a sentence of "that's just embarrassing" but as you whip around, murder in the eyes, he chooses to ultimately stay diplomatically silent.
"I just remembered, there's a thing I need to do," Jimin excuses himself, bowing politely and you try to do the same but it comes out as a bit too deep. More like you're ready to accidentally worship him. As he leaves, lingering for a second too long in the doorway, his gaze jumps curiously between you and Yoongi.
"Interesting," is all he says to himself before leaving altogether.
Deep silence veils the room, interrupted only by the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock.
"We're breaking up," numbly, you announce.
"No, we're not," smugly, Yoongi remarks over the shoulder.
JIN: "Well, I can't say I'm surprised," Jin speaks over the rim of his steaming cup, overtly self-satisfied. "With a face such as this and my perfect personality to boot, you really stood no chance."
Personally, you have had a very, very long day. The kind of which leaves your brain leaking from the side of the ear and the soul from the bottom of the waterline, so hearing that coming out of his mouth, accompanied with a smug expression that just begged to be humbled, you slammed him down with no hesitation.
"I was talking about Jungkook. Jungkook is my bias."
The cup in between the saucer and his lips freezes halfway and you can even vaguely hear an error noise drawn from the depths of his perplexing mind.
"The sexy brunette, hitting all the notes with a grace of an angel..." he clarifies, closing his eyes. Does he think - see no evil, hear no evil?
"Is Jeon Jungkook. 190811 concert to be specifically."
The error noise grows louder.
"He was very sexy in that one. Absolutely mesmerizing. My core memory actually."
Calmly, Jin places the cup back onto the saucer, daintily pushing back a strand of unkempt hair.
"I see," he concludes and after a prolonged moment of stretching inaction during which you almost grow to believe he has entirely turned into a statue, Jin states with nothing short of cornucopia of attitude.
"Well, I raised him so by any good business model, 25% of affection belongs to me anyhow."
"Oh, only 25%?" you grumble. "How gracious of you."
"You're right," he leans his head to the side as though genuinely thinking it over. "Inflation. Make it 45%."
And to your surprise no fuss was made. He went to sleep and kicked you twice in his sleep - as per the standard rate. A year went by and the fact was never brought up, be it in passing or even when conversation was on the topic, he merely sat smiling politely in the sidelines. You assumed that the piece of this knowledge was so traumatic, he suppressed the memory of it altogether.
"Hey, Jin," you called out, rifling through the bedsheets. "Have you seen my phone?"
Over the sounds of his infuriated screams about losing yet another game, there comes a hasty "no, sorry".
"Okay, can I use your phone to call myself?"
"Su-AH YOU GODDAMN TOE BRAINED ASSHOLE-re, honey!"
The password on his phone - your birth year, not exactly hacker worthy. You hover over the contacts list not finding in the appropriate section. Babe? Nothing. Honey? Nothing. Annoyance? Not even that. You trail purposelessly throughout the small splattering of contacts - an outcome of being forced to change numbers every - accidentally stumbling on a particularly suspicious name.
"Traitor 💔"
"Drama queen," you mutter fondly, deciding to let him and the name be.
HOSEOK: "He's a sweetheart," Hoseok whispers in the vicinity of his elbow where you were using him as an impenetrable shield. "He's literally going to be happy to learn you biased him."
"Look at his face! He thinks I'm annoying!"
"That's just how his face looks, silly. As Tae-biased you must know that."
"But he's scary," you whimper. "I adore him as a bias but I also want to run away. I do not want to be perceived."
You shrink smaller the second those soulful, weary eyes glide over to where Hoseok was so suspiciously angled. You squeak and hide even further behind Hoseok's back, praying Taehyung doesn't come over.
"Get me out of here, please," you mutter and with a quick wave, Hoseok leads you out of the building. There, in the chilly air of the oncoming night, the awkwardness and, truthfully, no small amount of panic evaporates into the black sky. For a while, both of you are simply content in holding hands and watching them swing back and forth.
"Ugh, I'm so lame," you whine.
"No, you're not. It's natural to be shy around people you idolize," he scolds you gently. "You don't think I'm soaring on the ninth wave of confidence when meeting my stars?"
"Well, you're cool yourself so there's no reason why you shouldn't," you scoff.
"And you're cool as well."
There's that tone again - it's useless to argue. Hoseok was not here to entertain your insecurities, he made sure of that from the very start. You smile to yourself, gazing out across the slowly running river. Walks like these were precious. Treasured even as they were so rare.
"You're not upset by it, right?" you clarify cautiously. Partially knowing that of course such a minuscule thing as this would not upset him but...it just didn't hurt to make sure.
"No," he chuckled airily, before awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "Actually I'm kind of glad about it."
"Glad?"
"Well, it'd be difficult to date you if you kept running away from embarrassment."
You chuckled, facing the ground as the streets and the river slowly molded themselves into a nondescript background.
JIMIN: "So...Namjoon told me you hung out?"
Easy. Casual. Even somewhat in passing. But you know him better than that and the second your sixth sense catches onto the lingering shadow in the background of his chords, you lift your head from the magazine and stray to where he was leaning against the countertop.
"I don't like him like that. Please, do not misunderstand."
"I'm just asking," Jimin defends, more so out of instinct. The very best and simultaneously the worst thing about the relationship you'd both cradled like a gentle flame is that by now you could read each other's mind. Despite not being there with him in person you know of the pang in his heart he'd felt when seeing a picture of you trailing next to Namjoon as you both were immersed in a conversation about art, one that'd surely make him bored quite easily. And despite Jimin not literally finding himself dug deep into your brain, he knows you worry, he knows you suspect, knows you're working overtime into scheming all possible future scenarios.
"Stop overthinking," he chides but there's no malice behind it and simply just as that the tension stretches and unwinds until there's only the soft ambient noise of life swirling all around.
"Does he know? You go rabid over him?"
Fully offended, you point the spoonful of yoghurt in his direction, a fat glob of peach splattering clumsily onto the tiles.
"I do not! Go rabid over him!"
Before you get the chance to reach for the paper towel, Jimin has already snatched a ply, wiped up the peach yoghurt and discarded it into the trash.
"Thank you. But I do not go rabid over him!"
Jimin pointedly stares at the your keychain where not one, not two but three Koya's hung limply around the metal circles.
"Of course, absolutely sane."
"Do not patronize me, Park," you glare at him but once geared to amuse himself in your miffed state, he shows no sign of stopping.
"You are so chill about it. Not like you spent hours creating TikTok edits of his dimples."
"You swore to take that to the grave," you growled underneath the nose, your clenched fist indicating you were extremely close to choking him. Which Jimin didn't exactly mind. In fact, such was his goal.
"Oh, make me take it there," he winked.
TAEHYUNG: "I'm not going to share Hobi with you."
"I'm your partner!"
"And? You're not getting Hoseok privileges."
You pouted the rest of the day away, grumbling about the unfairness of the whole situation. But secretly you felt your heart draw a heavy sigh of relief. It'd been so hard to get together with Taehyung that unwillingly it felt that even the smallest of things got inflated to magnitude you feared could drown you whole. But it was fine. If anything he seemed overjoyed in hearing that it was Hoseok who'd caught your attention first and kept a rather brutal chokehold over the course of these few years. Yes, it was fine. However, should Taehyung ever reveal you had drooled on yourself while watching "MORE", you would kill him and then yourself. A promise you'd made loud and clear to which he swore to obey.
And it wasn't like meeting Hoseok was something so necessary for you to live, feeling rather content watching him from the sidelines. In between life, Yeontan, Taehyung and all the secrecy that one had to accept came with him, your life was...full. So when one of these factors suddenly became absent, you grew suspicious.
Why did he sneak away before you woke up and came home when you were asleep? He couldn't be mad at you, could he? You think back, absent-mindedly tapping at the phone screen. "Daydream" blasts into your ears all too loudly and flinching you yank them away much to Tannie's disappointment. As of late, he appeared to be even more judgmental. You reckon the little rascal never grew to be quite okay with you taking so much of his dad's attention. But to be fair his dad's attention was on whatever third party that kept him away the entire day.
The slowly running anxiety prodded your eyes wide open so it's not like you planned to stay awake for when unmistakably Taehyung shut the front doors cautiously behind him. No, there was nothing for him to be angry about. He hadn't been home often enough for it to happen. As such, guided by latent curiosity, you pretended to be wholly asleep, cracking the barest sliver of one eye open to observe him through the dark.
Stumbling ungainly through the minefield that was your bedroom, it was no surprise he stubbed a toe against the dresser and choking on a series of half-withheld curses, collapsed onto the duvet.
"Good evening," you greet him smoothly. "Fun night?"
He yelps from the shock whilst you turn on the lights. Though you find him not with guilt gleaming in the eye or lipstick on the collar but rather brandishing two dozen of balloons and a photo album.
A photo album of carefully and might you say, artistically gathered collection of photocards, signed at the end by Hoseok himself.
JUNGKOOK: His eyes never left your figure, analyzing each and every interaction with a hawk-like precision.
Jimin? No, you were far too unperturbed talking to him. Jin? No, he'd been in your home far too many times drunk of his ass. Frankly, after he'd slathered your favourite plushie in the contents of his stomach, Jungkook doubted you could hold any sense of idealization towards the man, regardless if he was your initial bias or not.
Jungkook hummed to himself. Decisions, decisions. All of them wrong. His investigation was fruitless for so long Jungkook had all but abandoned it, resigning himself to sitting quietly by the stewing pot when at last something in you changes. Yoongi casually recommends a dish as he'd taken notice of your befuddled stare upon the cornucopia of the dinner table and you lover your gaze, bidding a very quiet, meek "thank you". As a year old boyfriend of yours, Jungkook could definitively say - you were not meek.
Ah, so it was Yoongi.
Why did he want to know so bad? He himself did not even know. Perhaps because you hid it away and the spitefulness of your action flared his own competitive nature. Or perhaps it was nothing at all.
Laying down in the sparse room of the lakeside guest house, he listened to you shower, weighing should he bring the matter . You loved him, not Yoongi. After all you were his partner, but...
No "but's", he scolds himself, turning to lay on the other side. You pad softly to the bed and with a drawn out sigh of utter content jump down next to him.
"Why do you keep sleeping with your hair wet?" Jungkokk nags, twirling a strand between the fingers. "It's bad for you health."
"I sleep better that way."
He gives a non-committal hum, knowing so much already. He briefly opens his mouth as though the words were already there - in the papillae of his tongue but then he closes it shut once more, leaving things unspoken
It doesn't much matter, he reckons happily, while you were still by his side, he would not doubt a thing.
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© soraviii/soraviie, 2023
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