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#I love their writing so I hope you all love it too
epiphainie · 1 day
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i've just finished my s7 rewatch and it's kinda so funny to me how much discourse people created over every bucktommy interaction when their whole arc boils down to tommy being patient and vulnerable with buck and showing up for him. like when you are not wearing shipper goggles under the name of "analysis" and don't try to reverse-engineer every word and look and shot with utmost bad faith, that's what it is. a simple and sweet story of a new exciting relationship with a guy who's understanding and willing to show up. literally the two things buck needs from a relationship but never had with his previous love interests. they are kinda sickeningly sweet and well-communicating actually lol
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joelmillerisapunk · 3 days
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How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz
Joel Miller x reader
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Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.
Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?
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Evening, Day 1
As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.
The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.
"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.
Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."
You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"
"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."
You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 
The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 
Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement
Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak
Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid
Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J
You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.
Evening, Day 2
You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.
"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 
You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 
As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 
Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 
The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 
As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 
Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.
Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll  remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.
You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.
As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.
Evening, Day 3
The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.
As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.
We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.
You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.
As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.
You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 
As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.
"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.
Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."
You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.
"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."
Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 
As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.
The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.
Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.
Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.
"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 
Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 
You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.
Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”
You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."
Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."
Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.
You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 
"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.
Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.
You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.
Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 
It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.
Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.
The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.
The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.
There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection
As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.
Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.
With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.
Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.
The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.
As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 
Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.
The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?
You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.
The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.
As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.
You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.
You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.
You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.
With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.
Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.
You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.
"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."
Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.
"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”
Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."
Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”
Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”
You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."
Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.
You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.
A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”
As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.
The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.
Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.
You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.
Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement
Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak
Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid
Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 
You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note
Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.
You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 
As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 
Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.
You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 
He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 
You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.
Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."
Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”
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IT WAS ALWAYS YOU
Pairings: Azriel x Reader, Inner Circle x Reader
Summary: After decades as friends, new feelings emerge that lead to a beautiful relationship with Azriel - and how the Inner Circle discovered it.
Warnings: Tons of fluff, suggestive, mentions of blood and violence (nothing too descriptive)
Words: 5.4k
Author's Note: Hi! Here is the long awaited fic about Azriel and Reader from my mini series Second Chance but it can also be read as a stand alone. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you like it. Enjoy!
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The morning had arrived with its first rays of sunlight, its gentle breeze, and the soft singing of birds. 
The bedroom window was open, letting the delights of spring reach you. 
You woke up five minutes ago. After checking that the clock said 7:15 a.m., you snuggled back into bed and decided to spend the time looking at the male still sleeping next to you.
You took this opportunity to run your fingers through his black hair, removing some strands from his face and lowering your hand until it passed over his cheek and rested on his jaw.
You couldn't help but admire the male who had become the center of your world. 
Your relationship has been the best surprise in your entire life. 
Those fifty years you were trapped in Velaris made you and Azriel even closer and helped you discover feelings for each other that you hadn't yet realized that they already existed.
Who would have thought that you would find love and happiness in the Shadowsinger? 
Who would have thought that the male who is always considered cold, reserved, and discreet would become your best friend?
This was your favorite view. Seeing Azriel so relaxed and calm, without any worries on his face and without any weight weighing down his shoulders.
You roamed his body with your eyes. He was shirtless with just his boxers protecting him from your thoughts from last night and because his shirt was on you right now. He was stretched out on the bed with his arms folded under the pillow where his head rested, his eyes were still closed, his lips were slightly open, leaving soft snores reaching your ears and his wings were lying to the sides, with one of them over you, revealing how comfortable he was.
The only thing you could feel was love, pride, and happiness in this moment because you were the reason this view was possible. 
You were the one who made him feel loved and safe like he had never felt before, and in a way, he didn't know.  
You were the one who made him laugh until his stomach hurt, and happy tears ran down his cheeks. 
You were the one he could talk to about everything without ever feeling judged.
You were the one with whom he could talk about his past, his family, and his hands because you were the one who wrapped him in your arms and listened attentively without ever complaining.
Your favorite memory had been the day Azriel admitted how he felt about you. How he told you that with you, he was neither the Shadowsinger nor the Spymaster nor one of the brothers of the High Lord of the Night Court nor a bastard.
That with you, he was Azirel. Just Azriel. You had never felt so much love as you did that day.
Even though that confession didn't have the presence of those three little words, you knew that this was the way he said them, and that was enough to you.
Because Azriel is enough to you. 
The biggest smile appeared on your features at the reminder of that memory, and that reminder took you back to the memories of how it all began.
-
Your relationship with Azriel has always been different from any other. 
While Rhys and Cass were your older brothers, Mor, your sister, and Amren, a mentor who sometimes gave you goosebumps, Azriel was your friend.
And a friend was exactly what you needed.
There were times when you felt guilty that your relationship with him was different from the one you had with Rhys and Cassian and that you were somehow excluding him and hurting him in the process. 
But you just couldn't see him as a brother, and although that didn't make sense to you at the time, it did now.
Your concern disappeared after Azriel revealed that he also saw you only as a friend, and that night, you thanked the Mother for that. Otherwise, things would be strange.
Azriel started out by being the person you ran away to when Rhys and Cass started to forget their role as brothers and started to step into the role of dads, or when Mor wanted to drag you on another round of shopping, or even when Amren became too scary for your taste.
In those moments you discovered how much you enjoyed his company, you didn't need to be talking to each other, you could just sit side by side and read or eat and the silence wasn't awkward. 
The company was comforting and cozy.              It felt right.
And so, he stopped being the person you ran away to and started being the friend you went to because you wanted to.
Books began to be exchanged, walks began to take place, training began to be done, and a routine was built.
Every day, you had breakfast with the Inner Circle, with the exception of Amren, who couldn't be woken up before lunch unless someone had a death wish.
After breakfast, train with Azriel and Cassian.  While Azriel trained you in hand-to-hand combat, Cassian trained you with weapons, and both taught you about balance and posture. After that, a quick shower and a small snack and you would join Rhys to read and write and work on your mental shields in his office.
Just like breakfast, you all got together again for lunch, now with Amren present. 
After lunch, you had classes with Amren who taught you about everything, history of Prythian and the Courts, literature, mathematics (definitely not your favorite) and much more, being over fifteen thousand years old classified her as the best for that.
Your favorite part was when she talked about the death gods, the High King, creatures, that was always the best part and you always found yourself wanting to know more, that was also due to the fact that Amren was amazing at telling stories.
This all meant that you had the rest of your afternoons free and that you could spend them however you wanted. It was at these times that you were looking for Azriel's company.
When he was away on missions or due to other matters, you found other ways to spend the afternoons but never when he was in Velaris.
And just like that, your friendship started to grow and transform into something more over time.
But it was only on your 123th birthday that you realized that you were deeply in love with the Shadowsinger. You held this birthday close to your heart not only because it was when you and Azriel finally happened but because it was also the first since Rhys got back from Under the Mountain and the first one with Feyre too.
As always, the Inner Circle organized a party to celebrate your birthday, with many presentes, decorations and of course a big chocolate cake.
But your favorite part? It was when Azriel took you on a night flight, that had become your thing over those fifty years.
Not only did you have the perfect view of Velaris above the stars, but you also had the perfect view of the male carrying you in his arms.
He was so handsome that night, but so were you.
You wore a cobalt blue dress that reached your ankles. The top part of the dress was a corset that tightened around your back, leaving it just covered by the threads that crossed each other and made a bow at the end. 
The skirt contained an opening on one of your thighs, and small diamonds decorated the fabric that made you look like one of the shining stars in the sky. 
A silver necklace and earrings adorn your neck and ears, and a sort of tiara rested on top of your head with your hair done in a perfect bun. 
Your high heels, also silver, had been discarded by the fireplace a long time ago after dancing so much.
Azriel was dressed in a dark blue suit that hugged his figure perfectly. A white shirt was folded to his elbows with the top two buttons unbuttoned, as was his dark blue vest. The pants were immaculate, as were the shoes. He was perfect.
You found yourself looking at his legs and arms several times throughout the night, but who could blame you?
After flying for a while, Azriel landed on the bridge next to Sidra, and after gently placing you on the ground, you turned to admire the view of the river shining under the starlight.
When you shivered a little due to the night wind, Azriel came closer to you and hugged you from the side and you took the opportunity to rest your head on his chest with an arm around his waist while your free hand found its place in his abdomen.
In this proximity, you had the perfect ability to hear how fast his heart was beating, and you also sensed how nervous he was.
So, before you lost your courage, you turned in his embrace and placed his hand over your heart before giving him a smile and asking, "Can you feel it?" You looked at his beautiful hazel eyes. "Can you feel how much my heart desires for you?"
Azriel wasted no time in reciprocating your smile, and after following your movements, now with your hand over his heart and his resting on top of your hand, he said, "Can you feel mine?"
You both let out giggles, and when those disappeared, Azriel closed the distance between you with his lips touching yours, his arms found their place around your waist and he gently lifted you until he was at his full height again.
Your hands placed themselves on his cheeks, and when he lifted you up, you bent one leg and lifted it into the air.
The perfect kiss for the perfect day in the perfect place at the perfect time.
That day felt like a dream, but you were glad it wasn't because that meant it was real.
-
A chuckle broke you from the memories, and when you looked back at the love of your life, his eyes were open.
"You're awake." You said.  
"I've been for a while. I called you several times, but you didn't even blink." He chuckled again and rested his head on one hand. He used the other to caress your cheek before giving you a kiss.
"Hmm," you hummed into the kiss, which made him chuckle more. "Good morning." 
With a smile never leaving his lips, he replied, "Good morning, angel." 
He started stroking your hair before asking, "What was that pretty little head of yours thinking about?"
"That's for me to know and for you to wonder," you answered him with a mischievous grin. 
"Hmm, you evil little thing." He couldn't help but laugh before continuing. "I like it." And before you could prepare yourself, he trapped you in his arms and shifted to lay on top of you with his arms now resting on the sides of your head.
He started kissing your neck, and you erupted into laughter. "Az," No matter how much you tried, you couldn't stop laughing.
Azriel stopped kissing your neck and planted a kiss on your lips before his hands returned to your hair.
He opened his mouth to say something but several knocks at the door, and Cassian's voice stopped him in his tracks and made both of your eyes darted to it. "Hey! Stop playing with each other and come have breakfast. Training in an hour."
You were quick to respond "Yes General. Thank you, General." Cassian let out a laugh before the sounds of his footsteps faded away.
When you went to look back at your lover, he was already looking at you with an amused expression. 
"What?"
"You know what this reminded me of?" He paused before continuing with his thought. "When Cass found out about us. We were in similar circumstances if I remember well." He lowered his head, so his lips were now hovering your ear, "but I wasn't the one on top." He finished with a shit eating grin and a knowing look.
"Shut up, Az!" You said while covering your face with your hands at the reminder, "that was so embarrassing." 
"Embarrassing? I thought it was hilarious." 
You swat his chest before proceeding. "You say that because you weren't the one who said all those things and was acting like an idiot." 
Azriel gave a big laugh at that mention. "Oh yeah!" He laughed even harder, making his chest touch yours, "I still don't know where you are trying to go with that conversation."
You swat his chest again but a little harder this time. "Stop! I was nervous, okay? I couldn't help myself." 
At the sight of you covering your face again, Azriel pushed your hands away, and with a gentle smile, he said, "It's okay, angel."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," He replied, and when a shit eating grin returned to his lips, you knew nothing good was about to come out of it "if you think about it, it wasn't as bad as it was when Rhys found out." 
"Ugh! Shut up, Azriel!" You groaned in frustration.
-
It had been six months since that birthday. Six months since the night, you and Azriel kissed and decided you wanted a relationship.
Even though both of you were thrilled with your new relationship, you weren't ready yet to share it with the rest of the world or your busybody family. 
So both of you decided to keep it to yourselves.
You and Azriel would occasionally flirt in front of your family and sometimes get a little handsy. If your family noticed, they didn't comment, but this also might not be anything new for them knowing how close you and Azriel got.
Besides, flirting wasn't anything new in the Inner Circle. Cass and Mor, Mor and you, Rhys and Amren, sometimes even the batboys with each other believe it or not and now Rhys and Feyre.
You and Azriel were both still in bed in his room, enjoying the last few minutes you had before having to get up for a new day.
You had sneaked into his room last night after everyone had gone to bed after another night of games, wine, and crackers with cheese.
Azriel was sitting against the headboard with you sitting on top of him, your legs on either side of him. Your hands were roaming his shoulders, neck, and chest.
Their hands were on your lower back under your shirt (his shirt), one of them was playing with the fabric of the shirt while the other was drawing small circles on your skin.
"What are your plans for today?" He asked.
"Well, after training, which I hope you're nice today considering what I did for you last night," an amused smile formed on your lips.  
"Are you trying to bribe me?"
You faked a disbelieving look. "What? Me? Never." Azriel scoffed at your antics before you continued, "As I was saying, after training, I need to review some papers with Rhys since I'm the Emissary again. I have a meeting in Summer in three days, and since it's my first meeting with Tarquin I asked him to help me prepare.”
"Emissary of the Night Court," Azriel returned the smile. "You've done well." 
A blush made its way to your cheeks before you could stop it. "Shut up."
"I'm serious. I'm proud of you. You deserve it." 
"Thank you, my love." You told him before giving him a kiss.
"Is Rhys going with you to Summer?" Azriel asked.
"No, he tried to find the time, but with the meeting with Keir happening on the same day, he can't." You answered and started passing your finger through the patterns of the tattoos on his chest. 
After a moment of silence, Azriel gave voice to his thoughts, "I can go with you if you want." You halted in your movements, and when your eyes met his, he proceeded. "Only if you want. I know you're perfectly capable of defending yourself, I mean, Cass and I trained you so," a smug grin plastered on his face "but since this is your first meeting with a new High Lord, I understand if you want to do this on your own." 
"No, I'd love it if you go with me." The blush appeared again on your cheeks. "Thanks, Az."
"Of course, angel." Azriel pulled you by the shirt and kissed you. A kiss that said a lot of things.
Before any of you noticed, the door was opened, and Cassian entered the room.
A look of shock was on Cassian's face and when you and Azriel turned to see him, you were quick to jump from Azriel's lap to the ground, only to land your foot on top of his boot and fall. 
You were quick to recover and stood up to look the General in the eyes who still had his mouth open.
"What. The. Fuck." Was his only response.
"This isn't what it seems, Cass, I was just...I..." your heart was beating fast with nervousness and embarrassment, so you said the first thing that came to mind without thinking "I was just teaching Azriel something."
"What?" Both males asked.
Realizing the words that had just come out of your mouth, you mentally scolded yourself, "That's not what I meant" you started to squeeze the fingers of one hand with the other nervously "it's just that I read something the other day in a culinary book and thought it was interesting so I...I..." 
"What?" The males asked again, giving you confused looks.
You cleared your throat before you started waving your hands in front of your face and exclaimed "Gods, why is it so hot in here?" 
Cassian lifted an eyebrow at you "Maybe it's because you're wearing Azriel's shirt.”
Shock ran through your entire body at his reply, you had no response to that.
"So," Cassian crossed his arms over his chest "you two are a couple?" 
"What? No! This is all part of the plan." You answered him, and you were so focused on your big brother that you didn't notice Azriel trying to hide his smile.
"What plan?" Cassian asked in his big brother's voice.  
"I read about an experiment about animals-"
"Animals?" Azriel asked, not knowing if he felt offended or not.
Cassian was trying to stay serious. He had come to Azriel's room to tell him about training but instead he found his little sister on a male's lap kissing him with nothing but his shirt and underwear. This is not how he imagined his morning but he couldn't help but break his serious gaze for a second at your reply "You read about animals in a culinary book?"
When you didn't respond and your face turned a shade of red from embarrassment, the males tried to contain their laughs.
Azriel interrupted you before you could say anything else that didn't make any sense. "Angel, thanks for trying but you're a horrible liar."
"Wha-?" You tried to protest.
"I'm not angry." Cassian interrupted you.
"You're not?" You asked in a small voice.
"No, little star. I'm just surprised, I mean, I noticed your flirting but I thought you were just messing around like the rest of us."
"We weren't." Azriel spoke this time.
"No shit." He said to him before turning his attention to you "Anyways, why don't you go to your room and get ready? Training is in twenty minutes." Cassian said before grabbing the door handle and opening it for you.
"Okay." You started gathering your clothes and your shoes before going to give a quick kiss to Azriel but that was before he said while laughing "Animals? Really?" 
"Shut up!" You said, after grabbing the pillow on your side and throwing it at his head. 
Cassian closed the door when you left and turn to Azriel who was no longer laughing.
"Cass-" 
"Shut up and listen," and the Shadowsinger did as he was told "if you break her heart or if you hurt her in any way, I'll hunt you down. Got it?" 
"Yes." Azriel never thought he would live to the day where he would be afraid of Cassian.
"Good. I'll talk with her later. Now, get ready. We have training." 
Azriel released a sigh, knowing what was about to happen at training. "You're going to kick my ass, aren't you?"
"Hell yeah." Was Cassian's response before exiting the bedroom.
Your hand was intertwined with Azriel's as you ran towards the kitchen as silently as possible.  
You had just arrived from a date at Rita's and were currently too happy and unbalanced, the result of several drinks and Rhys having an open tab at the bar. 
The house was dark and silent, when you finally made it to the kitchen, the clock on the wall marked exactly 3:07 a.m., but you and Azriel weren't ready to end the night nor were you tired.
Your trip to the kitchen was for the purpose of drinking water but that was forgotten in the back of your minds, when you turned around to face Azriel and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely.
You kissed him as if he were the air you breathe and Azriel returned the gesture with the same intention. 
His hands started to move down from your face, to your shoulders, to your back and finally to your ass before he grabbed it and lifted you up to sit on the kitchen counter.
You opened your legs wider so he could get between them and just detached your lips from his to grab the ends of his shirt and pull it off him.
Azriel wasted no time in doing the same to you.  Alcohol had an effect on him that made him unable to let go of you for even a second and he needed you now. 
With his hands going to your back, he grabbed the fabric of your top and ripped it in half before tossing to the side and leaving you in your bra.
He started kissing your jaw and your neck, and you took the chance to unbutton his pants but you were only halfway through when he moved to kiss your shoulders and chest, making you lose focus and leaning back to lying down on the cold surface of the counter. 
Azriel continued kissing down your chest and when he reached your stomach, he stayed there while he started undoing your pants.
He grabbed the hem of your pants and underwear at the same time to take them off but before he could go any further, someone cleared their throat.
Rhys was standing at the kitchen entrance in his pajamas, clearly looking like he regretted leaving his bed.
The faelights lit up and you got a better view of your brother, before quickly sitting up and using Azriel as a shield to hide your body.
You were both perplexed and at your silence, Rhys said "Late snack?" 
Even though this was something Rhys never wanted to see, he couldn't help but laugh at your expressions and how messed up you were due to the alcohol. "Don't worry about me, I just came to get some water." He moved to the fridge while you and Azriel remained where you were without moving a muscle.
After taking what he needed, Rhys turned his back to you, turned off the lights and told you before leaving the kitchen "If you think you're safe from this, then you're wrong. We'll talk about this in the morning after I erase this image from my mind."
You waited until you heard the door to Rhys's bedroom close before returning to your previous activities.
It was only three in the morning, you still had plenty of time before Rhys's lecture gave you a headache.
You were at Dawn, the second ball of the week to establish relationships between Courts. Which meant you were working considering you were the Emissary. 
You had just talked to Thesan about the new deal Rhys was planning for the Solar Courts, and now you were looking for your family, finding only Amren with Varian and a glass of wine in her hand.
"Amren? Have you seen the others? I can't seem to find them." 
"Fine, I'll help you." She said as if she was bothered but in reality you knew she wasn't, in fact you always knew that Amren had a soft spot for you since you were a child.
"Thanks." You interviewed your arm with hers to make sure you didn't get lost in the crowd.
After a few minutes of searching, you finally found Azriel and as you were dodging the people in front of you, a smile made its way to your lips.  
A smile that quickly fell when you saw that he was accompanied by a female. 
Your heart started to fall - it was not possible, your Azriel would never do such a thing to you.
It only took you a few seconds to realize you were correct. Azriel would never do this to you.  
You looked more closely and noticed that he was trying to get away from the female's touch but she was insisting.
Anger coursed through your body and before anything could stop you, you walked towards her and punched her right in the nose.
When she fell to the ground, you realized what you did and shock ran through your body. 
This ball was to help strengthen relationships between the Courts and you had just punched a female for touching your male.
Your arm was still intertwined with Amren's and when you looked at her you saw the biggest feline smile she had ever given "I always knew something was going on between you two," she gestured to you and Azriel "Good job, child, I'm proud and this ball was getting boring anyway."
The ancient one raised her glass towards the fallen female who was now clutching her bloody nose "Thank you for your participation," she said before taking a sip of the wine and making her way back to Varian.
You looked at Azriel who had a big smile on his face and raised his hand towards you to grab it and stand by his side but before either of you  spoke, you saw a very angry Rhysand walking towards you.
"Shit." That was the only thing you were able to say before your brother gave you another lecture and took you home so no more females would have their noses broken.
-
Mor had joined you for training the following morning, she had arrived yesterday afternoon from the Continent and wanted to spend as much time with you as possible before having to leave again. 
You were stronger and faster since the last time you two had trained and Mor found herself trying to keep up with you several times.
She had insisted on training in hand-to-hand combat and she realized that she had made the right choice because if you fought like that without weapons, she didn't even want to imagine what you would be like with them.
After another hour that seemed like three to Mor, the training came to an end and you sat on the ground at the top of the House of Wind while drinking water and calming your breathing.
"Well, Cassian and Azriel are really good instructors. You're fighting like a true Illyrian."
You smile at the compliment. When you first started training it was hard but now it felt like a second skin and you were very proud at your effort.
"Thanks, Mor. We should train together more often." 
She looked at you incredulous "No, thanks. I'm fine." 
You both laughed simultaneously, and looked forward to seeing where Cassian and Azriel were standing on the other side. 
"They've been standing there for a long time. What do you think they're talking about?" You asked her.
Mor scoffed "Probably arguing over who has the biggest wingspan again," Mor leaned towards you so no one else could hear "I bet it's Azriel."
You raised your water to drink another sip when you responded to Mor without thinking "Believe me, I know."
You stopped in the middle of your action when you realized what you just admitted.  
"What do you mean by that, little star?" She asked, an amused smile beginning to settle across her features.
"Nothing." Your face turned red from the embarrassment.
"Holy. Shit." Mor started clapping hands and jumping in her seat.
"Stop it!" You told her before standing and starting to run to your bedroom but Mor was quick to follow your movements and she ran behind you. 
When you reached your bedroom, Mor made you tell her all the details and everything she had lost these past few months she was away.
-
"See the positive side. At least you were fully dressed when Amren and Mor found out." Azriel told you.
"By the Cauldron, shut up." Fed up with his sarcastic comments, you lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist before pushing him to the side and getting on top of him.
You held his hands with yours beside his head and bent down to give him a kiss only to be interrupted by new knocks on the door and Cassian's voice again "Hurry up, otherwise I'm going to make you run for an hour, little star."
"Fine!" You screamed at him and after a moment you told Azriel "Gods, he's annoying today." 
"I heard that. You're going to run for two hours." Cassian said before stepping away from the door.
"Dammit." You cursed while Azriel chuckled.
Tonight was Starfall and once again you were beautiful wearing the same dress that you did when Azriel kissed you for the first time.
This was your favorite festivity and nothing could take away the happiness that this day brought you, not even your sore muscles from running for two hours yesterday.
Now that your whole family knew about you and Azriel, there was nothing stopping you from seeing the spirits in each other's arms.
When it was over, Azriel looked down to meet your eyes and it was then that a force hit him.
A golden thread around his heart began to form before it began to connect with yours. He froze in place, surprise and shock overwhelming him.
But what shocked him the most was when you took his hand with a genuine smile and told him "Took you long enough." And then a tug in his chest, it was you.
"You knew?" When you only nodded, he asked you again "When?"
"Since my birthday. It snapped after you kissed me."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to pressure you because it snapped for me and not for you and I wanted to show that I don't love you just because we're mates. I love you because it's you." You confessed to him.
Now everything made sense to Azriel. 
Why he had never found a female that he felt connected to or that felt right.  
Why he had never met a female in which he felt loved or safe.  
Why he had never met a female with who he could be himself and laugh until he cried with happy tears.
Because it was you. It was always you.
It was no secret how much he wanted a mate and now after five hundred years of waiting, you were finally in front of him with love filling your hearts and being linked by a beautiful golden thread for eternity.
It couldn't be more perfect.
"Are you upset it's me?" You found yourself asking when he didn't say anything after a long minute.
With tears in his eyes and his arms around your waist, he hugged you close to his chest and kissed you like all the females wish to be kissed. 
When your lips parted, he tugged on the bond and told you "I've been waiting for you, Angel."
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Author's Note: Thank you for reading! And a special thank you to @mybestfriendmademe for giving the idea of writing about the Inner Circle's reaction. If you wish to be added to the general taglist let me know. 😊
Masterlist
Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @tele86 @shadowsingercassia @meritxellao
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
413 notes · View notes
icypopz · 2 days
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bathing with them ♡
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↬ request from anons ; Hiiii may I pls request the love and deepspace boys with a reader who loves taking baths with them??
↬ notes ; rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader
↬ from ice ; ice active era?! jk we all know i'm lying atp HAHAHA but here's my annual post which is also my first post for LADS :> i changed the prompt a bit but i hope u enjoy !
↬ warning(s) ; tiny spoilers for rafayel's backstory, xavier's is like microscopically suggestive
please reblog ! it helps a lot :)
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[ rafayel ! ]
rafayel absolutely adores taking baths with you, even though he loves to tease you about being too clingy (he's actually the clingy one, but he'll never admit it for the world). he loves just chilling in the bathtub with you, especially on winter nights where he'll pull you closer in the hot water, complaining that "i need more warmth! protect me from the cold, miss bodyguard!"
he would get playfully annoyed when you joke about wanting to see his mermaid tail when he gets into the bathtub, scolding you about how lemurians also have powers to lure humans in and he'll be doing that to you if you don't get in the bath with him "right now!" also rafayel doesn't really like rubber ducks, he says it's weird that humans like to put toys like that in the water when they could just go swim in a lake if they wanted to see ducks. but! he does love bubble baths, he loves to put the bubbles in your hair, and when you make a beard for him with the foam, he finds it the cutest ever.
rafayel definitely has like several hundred bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner in varying scents, claiming that their fragrance was so inspiring he just had to buy all of them. (the truth is, he wasn't sure which one you'd like so he just bought everything.) it's really helpful for when you stay over at his place though, you don't have to worry about packing a vanity case because he keeps everything ready for you, from your favourite toothpaste to a spare toothbrush. he also loves seeing you wrapped up in a towel, he thinks you look so adorable.
more content utc !
[ xavier ! ]
xavier isn't picky, he doesn't mind using either a bathtub or a shower, but after you visit him a couple of times, you definitely tell him he should use the shower instead. he always ends up falling asleep while he's soaking in the bathtub! he definitely loves showering with you though, he'll always do stuff like scrub your back or help comb through your tangled hair without you needing to ask. but it's almost impossible for both of you to bathe quickly, because you always end up getting distracted. who can you blame you though? it's not your fault xavier is so muscled from all his training!
xavier is the type who showers in freezing cold water, but he's willing to compromise if you don't like that. he ends up realising that hot water is more fun because he gets to write silly messages and draw hearts for you on the glass since it gets fogged up from the steam. also xavier's brain would totally crash the first time he showered with you, it would be that one tender night card all over again except better LOL. he's just that obsessed with you, you're the prettiest person with the best personality he's ever seen!
xavier would be one of those guys that has like the '10-IN-1! SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, SOAP!' soap bottles. it's not that he isn't bothered about hygiene, he just finds it a lot simpler to use one single bottle for everything, and it evidently works for him since his skin is so clear and his hair is so fluffy. but ever since you've started staying over, xavier takes note of your favourite soaps and stocks up on them (especially after you tease him for that pitiful bottle of soap in his bathroom - he's the type to squeeze out every single last drop of soap from the tube so the bottle definitely looks like it has been through The Horrors).
[ zayne ! ]
zayne would usually prefer showering over bathing usually, because he's used to maximising time for work in his schedule, so he likes everything in his personal life to be extremely efficient. but once he starts dating you, that does kind of change. on days where he doesn't have to rush into work for urgent cases, or nights after a hectic day, he enjoys relaxing with you in the bathtub - it's a little slice of heaven for him to have you pressed up against him in the warm water.
zayne likes using his evol to tease you while you're showering. though he isn't usually a playful person and his humour is quite dry, the intimacy of being in such close proximity to him makes him act up a little LOL. so when you ask him to soap your back or anything like that, he'll purposely make his fingertips cold so you shiver when he touches you. "zayne!" you'll scold him, and he'll just let out a soft chuckle before doing what you actually asked him to.
zayne would just have the bare minimum essentials in his bathroom, but i also think he would be the type to buy in bulk so he only has to go out shopping once in a while. this way, when his soap runs out he can just get a new bottle from his cupboard. he likes going into his bathroom and seeing little traces of you all over the room, like your toothbrush in his cup or your favourite soap on his shelf - it makes him happy because it's like a reminder of you even when you aren't there.
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✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠
© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.
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thefallennightmare · 2 days
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Caged In: Noah Sebastian[One Shot]
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, slight smut, talks about anxiety and depression.
Summary: Noah feels himself falling deeper into the darkness and only one person can pull him out.
Authors Note: I'd felt compelled to write about Noah's mental health break and Just Pretend acoustic since I first heard it. I hope you all love it.
Tags: @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @thatchickwiththecamera @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @sammyjoeee @madomens @xxkittenkissesxx @burning-outx @shayzillaaaa @darling-millicent-aubrey @flowery-mess @badomensls @reyadawn @exitwoundsx @malice-ov-mercy @princesspeach-00 @lookwhatitcost @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @rxdlstgn @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @respectfulrebel @cloudykoookie @niicoleleigh @thisbicc @pathion @themortaljessica @tashka @its-inourblood @amelia-acero @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch
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“Noah?” I called out into the vast darkness of our home. 
The old bones of the home creaked with each step as I walked farther into the darkness, a deep frown settling on my face. I was certain he was home, the text I received from him hours ago told me so. 
My Love 🖤: I’m going to lay down for a bit. Worked too hard in the studio.
I’d been out all afternoon with friends, catching up with them after not seeing them for a few months. I was hesitant to leave due to everything that came to light with Noah but he assured me with an almost there smile that he’d be alright while I was gone. He would keep himself busy in the studio. 
“Noah?” 
My voice met silence as I slowly ascended the stairs, realizing he wasn’t on the main level. It was so quiet, I wasn’t sure if Jesse or Michael were home. Both of their bedroom doors were shut and knowing that Jesse always kept his door open when he was home, it was clear he wasn't. 
Softly knocking on Michael’s door, he opened it with a head full of messy bed head. 
“Sorry,” I frowned when I remembered it was almost late evening. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
He gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Y/N. You got my text?” 
I nodded. Michael’s text was the reason why I’d cut my girls night early. 
“Is he in the studio?” I asked. 
“No,” Michael shook his head. “He met up with Ash for a lesson but I haven’t heard him come home.”
“He told me he was going to lay down,” I pulled out my phone to check Noah’s location. 
At Home since 2:30 p.m.
“Noah’s been home all day,” I said. 
Now it was Michael who frowned. “Why would he lie to us?”
“I have a feeling I know why,” I sighed. 
The frown never left my face at this point so with a small nod, I walked down to the other end of the hallway towards mine and Noah’s bedroom. I could have checked here first, but the SOS text I received from Michael had me wanting to check in with him first. 
As I approached our bedroom door, a soft sound touched my ears and I felt my world turn upside down. My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach as I hesitated reaching for the knob. I could feel the tears burning in the corners of my eyes and let out a long breath.
We couldn’t ignore this any longer. The hiding, the pretending, and the lies needed to stop.
Pushing through the bedroom door, I bypassed the made bed and entered the ensuite bathroom, nearly faltering at the sight in front of me. 
Oh, Noah. 
The bathroom light was off, only lit up from the moonlight breaking its way through the glass of the large window above the bathtub. His large frame slumped against the shower wall, his toned and defined back to me. The intricate lines of his tattoo shivering underneath the water that most likely ran cold. Both of his hands were spread widely apart against the wall, keeping him anchored while his forehead hung low. Droplets of water fell from the ends of his hair, down to the water pooling at his feet. 
Over the noise of the shower, soft cries echoed in the marbled space and Noah’s shoulders shook violently as the sobs tore through him. I stripped out of my clothes pretty quickly, not bothering to take my makeup off as I stepped into the large shower and wrapped my arms around him from behind. 
Noah’s cries seized for a moment and I knew that he would try to pretend everything was fine. 
“It’s alright,” I cooed, placing a kiss to the middle of his shoulder blades. 
One of his hands reached for mine wrapped around him and brought it to his lips. 
“You’re home early.” 
I rested my cheek against his back. “You needed me.” 
“Angel,” Noah breathed. 
Pretty quickly, I slipped underneath his other extended arm so now I was facing him. Glancing up through the chilled shower water that hung on my eyelashes, I sucked in a breath when I noticed how bloodshot Noah’s eyes were. 
“Oh, love,” I carefully caressed his cheek. 
He hadn’t shaved in weeks and I desperately wanted to feel the ginger hair that lined around his mouth tickling the sensitive skin of my thighs. 
Those almond eyes that were always filled with love, wonder, and light had begun to dull into nothing; darkness like the feeling that was beginning to dig its claws into Noah. I’d been afraid for weeks now that while I was away with work or other things that the darkness would swallow him whole. Which is why Michael texted me earlier, he’d become worried for his best friend. 
“I’m fine,” his voice shook. 
“No you’re not,” I gently shook my head. “You’re far from fine, Noah. You can’t keep this facade up.” 
I felt him beginning to slip away from me, like he had many times before. Whenever I tried to get close to him, he would push me away with the lie that nothing is wrong with him. 
“Stop,” I almost begged while wrapping my arms around his neck. “Please don’t pull away from me.” 
Noah stood frozen underneath the chill of the water, the heat long gone and telling me he had been in the shower for quite some time. Behind those dark eyes told an even darker story of a broken man crying out for help. The war that waged in his mind was one he couldn’t continue to battle on his own. 
“I can’t,” Noah shook his head. “You don’t deserve my demons. Your light is too pure for them, angel.” 
My shoulders fell when he pulled away from me completely, the space between us was something I’d become accustomed too. Every time I tried to get close to him, have him open up to me, Noah created an even larger space between us. 
“That’s not fair,” I wrapped my arms around my chilled body. “You don’t get to make that decision, Noah. It’s in our fucking vows that I’ll help you through these dark times.”
His face twitched and he cast his eyes down to his feet, a silent way of telling me he was done with the conversation. I did my best to not let my anger over take me because this wasn’t something he deserved. It wasn't his fault that the demons were winning. I needed to be his light in the darkness. 
For a brief moment, I drank in the sight of his bare body in front of me as the droplets of water ran down the grooves of his muscles. I followed one particular drop of water as it fell over his cock and I bit my lip. It had been weeks since we were intimate last because Noah wasn’t at the right mental headspace for it. I never pushed him, letting him take his time. But as the weeks went on and the heated kisses turned into barely there pecks, my heart was beginning to fear the worst. 
“Do you still love me?” I blurted out. 
Noah’s head snapped up. “What?” 
Turning my head to the side, I let out a shaky breath and wiped away the water from my face. 
“I didn’t mean to. This isn’t about me.” 
My name fell in a quiet whisper as I left Noah standing in the shower alone and wrapped one of the large towels around my frame, doing my best not to shiver at the chill I felt deep within my bones.
It was true. This wasn’t about me. I was supposed to be comforting Noah, not asking him a question I already knew the answer to. But I let those demons that were plaguing Noah affect me. I knew better than to let those win. 
Turning swiftly on my heels, ready to go back into the bathroom to apologize, I nearly dropped my towel when I saw Noah’s tall frame standing over me. He wore his towel loosely around his hips and the wet tendrils of his maple hair fell into his eyes. His broad chest rose and fell with each deep breath as his hands quickly found my hips, yanking me into his chest. 
“Don’t ever question my love for you, angel. Alright?” 
His voice was soft, which surprised me. I expected him to be upset and gruff with my accusation. 
“I didn’t mean to,” my bottom lip wobbled. “I can feel you physically and emotionally pulling away from me, love. I guess I needed that reassurance.” 
I felt a subtle kiss to my forehead and found myself grasping at the sensation it filled me with. 
“I love you so much, Y/N,” Noah’s eyes glistened as he looked down at me. 
We both sniffled at the same time and I molded even farther into his embrace. 
“I love you too,” I proclaimed. 
“I know,” he nodded once. “I also know that I’ve been pulling away from you and I don’t mean to. The demons in my mind keep telling me that no one cares. They keep whispering that no one will be there to save me.” 
“That’s not true,” I began, to which he cut me off by wrapping a hand around the side of my neck. 
“I know that. I’m trying to fight against them but it’s been so hard with everything going on. I feel like my mind and body are in a constant battle of what’s right,” Noah divulged with a tight grip on my neck, almost as if he was afraid I’d be the one to slip away. 
“I’m locked in a cage with those demons. They keep beating me down, not letting me take a fucking breath,” his nose scrunched in an effort to keep the tears away. “They’re telling me to leave you because you deserve a husband that is home all the time, not on the road most of the year. You deserve a man that can give you all of his time.”
“Noah,” I grasped at the thick muscles of his arms, my heart breaking at the sight of my husband looking so defeated. 
I’d known Noah since we were teens and given everything he'd gone through, I’d never seen him like this before. He’d always been the type of man that put others first, took care of his family before himself, and it became clear that I might not have been doing my part of a wife and taking care of him.  
The chilled night air crept in through our open bedroom window, the curtains dancing to the music of the crickets outside and our gentle cries. 
“I’ve lied to everyone. Pretended that everything is fine when it’s not. I’m crumbling into a man I don’t recognize anymore and I’m so fucking scared,” Noah burying his face int he crook of my neck, his tears mixing with the water from the shower that had yet to dry. 
“Will you wait for me until I let you down?” 
With a loving embrace, I began to sway Noah in my arms while his face was still hiding in my neck. 
“I’m not going anywhere, Noah,” I promised. “I’m right here with you. Through the darkness. I’ll do whatever I can to pull you out.” 
The silence from him was deafening, an eerie feeling that made you tip toe because you were afraid one wrong move would set it off. All of us knew Noah was a ticking time bomb and we all were careful with what we said around him. We gave him the space when he needed it, we didn’t push him when we knew he was lying about his feelings, but when Jesse and I shared a look the other night we knew we couldn’t tip toe around Noah anymore. 
“Fucking bullshit!” Noah slammed the fridge door shut; the condiments in the door rattling against each other. 
Jesse and I looked away from our card game at the kitchen table to see Noah slamming the kitchen cabinets now. 
“Love,” I said softly. “Is everything alright?” 
His eyes sliced into mine. “No, Y/N. I can’t find anything to eat in this fucking house.” 
Jesse stilled next to me, ready to be on the offense if he needed. Noah rarely cussed, especially at me. But I patted Jesse’s knee softly underneath the table, letting him know it was alright. 
This wasn’t Noah. We knew it. 
“I thought you went shopping earlier,” I said. 
Noah ran a hand through his hair. “No, it was your turn.” 
My brows peaked. “Noah, you told me this morning that you would go after your therapy session.” 
He didn’t utter a word, simply stuffed his hands in the pockets of his joggers before stomping up the stairs. 
“Did you skip your session again?!” I yelled after him only to be met with the slamming of our bedroom door. 
That night Jesse, Michael, and I all talked about how we would start helping Noah because we were hurting seeing him in such a dark place. Earlier tonight, Michael’s text gave me immediate fear which is why I cut my night early. 
Michael: He broke his guitar, Y/N. It’s in pieces in the studio. I don’t know what happened but there’s blood on the carpet.
Back in the solace of our bedroom, I gently lifted Noah’s left hand to finally get a look at the deep cut along the tattoos of his best friend's name. 
Keaton. 
Thankfully with the shower, the blood seemed to stop but not wanting to risk it, I led Noah over to our bed and made him sit on the edge. As I stepped away from him, ready to get the first aid kit, his arms yanked me back to him which caused my towel to drop to the floor. 
“Please don’t leave me,” he choked out. 
My fingers worked through the drying knots of his hair as I bent down to kiss his head. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’m right here with you.” 
We stayed like that for quite some time, Noah sitting on the bed while I stood in front of him; his arms caccooning around me. At that moment, no one else in the world mattered, just Noah and I. Albeit our love might have felt at a standstill the last few weeks, we both didn’t need to fear anymore that the darkness would encompass us whole. We began to realize that in that darkness, flowers would bloom and we could grow. 
“What happened to your guitar?” I asked. 
Noah pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of my stomach and I shivered, body ignited with the contact. 
“I was working on a song for you and I couldn’t get it right,” he admitted with a disappointed sigh. 
He glanced up at me, resting his chin on my stomach as I peered down at him. The roughness of his fingers grazed over the growing heated skin of my back and I let the stress of wondering if he was alright ease away. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
I brushed back the hair from his face. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad I’m here though. Is there anything you need from me?” 
Another kiss to my heated skin; this time along the valley of my breasts. “Just you.”
“I should wrap your hand, in case it bleeds again,” I breathed when his warm lips continued to leave marks all over my skin. 
Noah hummed in response and then pulled me down to the bed with him so we could lay in a mess of locked and naked limbs together. I lay on my back as he buried his face in my neck yet again, breathing me in. The head of his cock brushed along the side of my thigh and I let out a hushed moan, desperately wanting to feel it slip between my folds; it had been so long. 
“Angel,” Noah grazed his fingers over my collar bone. “I crave to feel you again but my brain isn’t in the right headspace.” 
I lifted his chin to force him to look at me. “I won’t push you, Noah. I’m here for you whatever you need.” 
Oh so slowly, I saw the light behind the dark depths of his eyes begin to flicker. 
“Can I play that song for you?” He asked. 
My lips curled up into a smile. “You don’t even have to ask me, love.” 
With a kiss to my lips, one that I wasn’t eager to let go off, Noah slipped away from me to get dressed. 
“I still haven’t cleaned up the mess in the studio. Give me a few minutes?” He said after slipping on the house communal Chief hoodie. 
“Take your time. I’m going to get dressed.” 
While Noah was gone, I dressed in a pair of thin cotton panties and one of his shirts, his scent immediately filling my senses. I went about lighting a few incense sticks, the ones that always calmed Noah down and settled into bed when he stepped back inside. With the moonlight casted over his face, I could see more of that light return as soon as he smelled the incense. 
I patted the spot next to me. “Saved you a spot.” 
Noah practically bounced on the mattress next to me, my giggles echoing around the room. He sat across from me, letting the guitar rest along his lap as he stared intently at me. 
“What?” I shifted underneath the blanket. 
“I missed that laugh,” he blinked. “I’ll never fucking forgive myself for being the reason you stopped laughing like that.” 
My lips parted to speak but he shook his head, silencing me. “I haven’t been the best husband the last few weeks and I know no matter how many times I apologize, it won’t be enough to make up for how I treated you and the guys. It’s not fair to any of you.” 
I nodded as he continued. “Jesse mentioned that you’re worried about me going overseas for all those summer festivals.” 
It was true. 
Noah would be gone for weeks while I stayed back home for work and I couldn’t stop biting my nails with worry about how he would be. I knew everyone would take care of him but it did nothing to ease my own demons. 
“I just want to make sure you’ll be alright,” I bit my lip with nerves. 
Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not going.” 
“Wh-what?” I stuttered. 
“I wanted to talk with you about it first. With the stress of the CJ OST release and everything the last two years, I need a mental break. I need time to rest and do the things we always talk about but never get to do,” Noah said. 
“So you’ll just cancel all the upcoming shows?” I asked, fingers grazing over the tattoos on his arm as he still cupped my cheek. 
“I’ll still play UPHEAVAL and INKARNATION but I don’t think I should go overseas. I need to get my mind right again. I need to get back into therapy and talk to someone about these feelings. I know I have you but-.” 
“Sometimes it’s better to talk to someone else,” I finished for him with a kiss to the inside of his palm. “Whatever you decide, Noah. I’ll support you. Although I do think this is a great idea.” 
Noah agreed and for the first time in a long while, the smile that I fell in love with slowly crept to his face. I was captivated by it that I nearly missed his thumb brush away a tear, suddenly avoiding eye contact with me. 
“I know the pain you hide behind the smile on your face,” I tapped his nose. 
He playfully rolled his eyes before adjusting the guitar on his lap, strumming a few random notes.. “Well, funny you mention Just Pretend.”
I pursed my lips with confusion. 
“Remember all those years ago when I told you there was a demo for it but I didn’t want you to hear it because I thought it wasn’t any good?”
The memory was clear as day in my mind. We’d just moved into this house with Michael and Jesse, two weeks after Noah and I had our secret wedding. We sat on the floor of this bedroom as he played for me Just Pretend; at the time what I thought was the original and only version. Besides the rest of the guys, I was the first one to hear the song in its entirety. 
“What about it?” 
Noah let out a long breath before the beautifully haunting melody of our song began to fill the empty space of air between us. 
“I'm so afraid that the walls that I have made have locked me in I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.”
Immediately I picked up on the change of lyrics; these ones cutting even more deep than the original. 
“So will you wait me out until I let you down? So will you wait me out until I let you down?”
I sucked in a breath when the words he cried into my shoulder earlier suddenly made sense. Unsure if he knew or not, Noah’s body began to sway with his music. 
“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.” 
Quickly, I glanced down to the tattoo on the inside of my forearm. 
Heaven knows I aint getting over you.
“I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by that I don’t wish it’d go away. So will you wait me out. Until I let you down? So will you wait me out. Until I let you down?”
I hastily wiped away the tears as they hung on my lashes, doing my best to not let the sobs overcome me. He sat criss crossed on the bed, the rose tattoo on his knee brushing against mine. 
“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”
Noah’s eyes had been closed thus far but it was as if he needed to make sure I was still here, listening to him pour his heart out for me; like he did all those years ago. When our eyes met, I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue.
“Can we try again when we’re not so different? Can we make amends? Why can’t we just pretend?” 
I couldn’t stop watching the way his fingers strummed against the strings of the guitar. The silver colors of the moonlight highlighted the sharpness of his cheek bones, down to his plump lips as they sang our song. 
“Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”
“Always, my love,” I breathed, pulling my knees to my chest.
The corners of Noah’s lips turned up. “I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”
Two years and a house full of love and laughter later, here Noah and I sat in the same position as he sang me his original demo for Just Pretend. My heart beat wildly in my chest, the noise roaring in my ears, as he finished out the song with a long, unsteady breath. 
“Can we try again when we’re not so different? Can we make amends? Why can’t we just. Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”
Once the guitar was set on the bed next to him, I climbed into Noah’s lap, immediately crashing my lips to his. It was a slow and lazy kiss, filled with the fire of our love that we spent years building and restoring after many dark moments. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, capturing what was left of my peach chapstick, humming in delight. 
Breathless, I rested my forehead against his. “I fucking love you, Noah.” 
The same thumb that brushed away his tears earlier brushed away mine. “I love you too, angel. I promise I’ll become the husband you deserve again. Those demons are still there but your love keeps them at bay.” 
I pulled him down to bed with me, covering us both with the blanket as I held him from behind him. Noah would never admit it but he loved being the big spoon. It had been so long since we slept like this, always finding ourselves sleeping back to back.
“I’ll be here for you, Noah. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you,” a soft kiss to his sweater glad back. 
He linked our fingers together, bringing them to his lips. “We plan on releasing that version on the soundtrack but I wanted you to be the first one to hear it.” 
“Thank you,” I breathed in his scent. 
We found ourselves in a comfortable silence and let the tears we shed together dry against our skin. Neither of us were perfect but those demons would no longer cage Noah inside his mind. I’d walk through the flames of hell to protect him from them. Just as slumber sunk its claws into me, ready to drag me under, Noah’s soft voice roused me from sleep. 
“I dream in Hell and wake up screaming. Wishing that I was someone else. The static leaves me in a catatonic peace. I wanna finally sleep now.”
Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I raked my nails along the skin of his stomach underneath his sweater. 
“Sleep now, my love. I’m right here.”
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celestie0 · 8 hours
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gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]
in holy matriphony ch2. you may now kiss the bride!!
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ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, n have been taking care of your sick mom ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.
ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, mild love triangle(s), gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity; btw gojo in this fic is in his early 30s n reader is in her late 20s
ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!
ᰔ chapter. 2/x (probably 10)
ᰔ words. 16.8k (i be yappin)
a/n. AHHH thanks very much for 2k followers!! yippeee :”) i had a lot of fun writing this chapter of ihm i feel like there’s a lot of silly but a lot of angsty too and i got to set up a lot of secondary plot lines in this chapter which was fun. i really hope you enjoy!! see ya at the bottom!!
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 (pending)
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“Can you chop down that stupid avocado tree of yours already? It keeps dropping its devilish spawn all over my herb garden.”
“Wow. Good afternoon to you too.”
Gojo scratches the back of his head from where he’s opened the front door of his house, standing in his pajamas and you briefly glance down at his bunny slippers before looking back up at him with a ridiculing face before pushing past him into his house.
Gojo’s house is almost the exact mirror of yours, as are most houses in the neighborhood, but it’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it and so you take an indulgent look. A cozy family room to the side, which you see he’s decorated with a coffee table and a loveseat, and the staircase is visible from the entrance. A modest dining table sits where the carpet turns into wood, and you’ve noticed he’s made the effort to place real hardwood on his floors contrary to the laminate in yours. Ok, show off. Your eyes take in the paintings on the wall, and you remember how his house almost looks fake, like in the way he sets up props in open houses he’s showing for clients, as if someone lives here and yet somehow there’s no real living proof of it.
And because it’s pretty much the exact same layout as your house, you know exactly where the pantry room is, and you grab a bunch of Doritos and Pocky from his secret snack drawer.
“Oh yes, go right ahead. Please,” he says sarcastically as he leans against a support pillar near the dining room and watches you stuff your face with his snacks.
“So,” you say, muffled, “did you grab the paperwork?”
“No, I didn’t.” He glances at his watch. “My friend’s a family law lawyer, and he’s gonna be here soon to help us out with the prenup.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’re being serious about the prenup? You really think I’m trying to gold dig at the cobwebs of your bank account? How little self respect do you think I have?”
“...do you really want me to answer that questi–”
The doorbell ringing startles you, and you quickly wipe at your face to clear any crumbs before setting the wrappers in your hands onto a bookshelf as you watch Gojo head to the door and open it.
You hear another distinct masculine voice ring in the air as Gojo exchanges pleasantries with him in the form of a handshake and a familiar hug with a few pats on the back, and then the angle Gojo twists his body reveals the man standing outside the door. He’s a bit shorter than Gojo with a lean build, clad in a fiercely formal black suit and tie with polished shoes. His hair is well-kept, short and raven black, and his eyes are sunken with what you can only imagine is fatigue. And it’s kinda hot to you, unfortunately, after years of working the night shift, you’re starting to find dark circles under people’s eyes to be extremely attractive.
“Uh, y/n, this is my friend, Higurama. Hiromi Higurama,” Gojo says, gesturing between the two of you,  “and Hiromi, this is y/n. My obnoxious neighbor. Careful though, if you get too close she’ll bite off your fingers.”
“I’ll bite off a different appendage of yours if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you snarl at him, and Higurama takes a step inside the house to greet you with an outstretched hand. 
“Hi, it’s lovely to meet you,” he says, and you’re a little startled by the politeness, but aptly shake his hand and nod before squawking out a likewise!!
You look past Higurama at Gojo who’s got an eyebrow raised at you, and then your eyes are on Higurama again as you watch him set his briefcase down on the dining table. “Are we ready to discuss?” he asks, brown eyes darting between the two of you. You nod and take a seat across from him, and Gojo first grabs everyone some glasses of water before he takes a seat at the head.
“So,” Higurama starts, “I take it you two are madly in love and would like to enter a marital agreement to declare your affections for one another in the court of law under just circumstances?”
You blink at him. “Y-Yes. Very just circumstances. Nothing shady going on here, we are indeed very madly in love and would like to get married.”
“Why the fuck would you say it like that?” Gojo chirps in but not before sighing. 
“T-The way he asked was really nerve wracking!!” you counter. And then your eyes widen when you look at Higurama again, who has a slightly amused tug to his lips. “...oh, you already know this marriage is a fraud.”
“I was just testing you,” he casually says, “in case they mention any suspicions in court. Seems you should just let Satoru do the talking.”
You pout a little and sink further into your seat, then bring the glass of water up to your lips. 
“Well, in any case,” Higurama says, and then he goes on into the details of what to expect in the courtroom. He pulls out paperwork for the marriage license application and starts to walk the two of you through the prenuptial agreement. 
“It’s my understanding you’re both desiring a prenup for this marriage?” Hugurama asks, brow furrowed slightly as he rustles through the endless papers in front of him that he was drowning in.
You briefly glance at Gojo, who’s also looking through all the papers with a concentrated look on his face, his features tense and he’s slightly worrying his bottom lip through his teeth. He’s thinking way harder about this whole prenup thing than you would, and you realize he’s genuinely taking this very seriously. 
“Um, yes,” you acquiesce, suddenly feeling a little guilty. And you remember who’s the one in need of the favor here. “I’m okay with the prenup.”
Higurama tells you two about the implications of the prenup, what can and cannot be included under state laws, and stresses the importance of full financial disclosure and fairness in the agreement to ensure its enforceability in the event of a divorce. Basically, don’t fucking lie about anything or else you two could sue each other to hell for it should divorce occur. You both agree, and you’re feeling sick to your stomach with anticipation. 
“Alright,” Higurama interjects your thoughts, “I will begin to draft the document then. Let’s start with assets.”
Gojo drones on about his tangibles, intangibles, cash equivalents, stocks, yada yada and you open up with yours too, but you can barely hear anything you’re saying and you can hardly hear what anyone else is saying either because you’re just dreadfully awaiting for Higurama to finally bring up—
“How about debts?” he asks, mindlessly as he types away on his laptop, as if the question doesn’t make you want to throw up. 
Your breathing picks up in speed, and you’re nervously fidgeting your hands over the surface of the table. You glance over at Gojo again, this time startled to find his eyes are on you too. His gaze briefly flickers to the shuffling of your fingers, then it meets yours again as he tilts his head slightly in a silent ask of you good?
“Uh–” you start, when you feel Higurama’s eyes on you too now that the silence has stretched on for too long, “I’m…well, I’m in a bit of…debt. From nursing school, a little bit from undergrad still, actually…”
“Okay,” Higurama says, “how much would you approximate? I’ll need the official loan statements soon, though.”
“Well, I’m paying off slowly…but last month I have around seventy-thousand still to pay off.”
“Alright,” Higurama accepts, “and you, Satoru? Student loans?”
“Oh, I don’t have any,” he says, “I paid them off a while ago.”
You feel like you’re being opened apart at the seams, and suddenly feel ashamed.
“Alright, what about other debts? Credit card debts? Any loans to know about?”
You figured you just needed to rip the bandaid off.
“Um,” you say, “I’m about three hundred thousand dollars in medical debt from my mother’s treatment loans.”
The room goes quiet, there’s no more rustling of papers or the mechanical jumping of keys on a keyboard, hell, even the birds outside stopped chirping to display their disbelief. 
“Wha–” Gojo starts, like he can’t help it, before he catches himself out of politeness, but he’s still looking at you with concern and shock. “y/n…what happened?”
You look over at Higurama too, and he’s completely turned away from the document he was drafting on his laptop, full attention on you, and his brow is creased with the same amount of concern. And you feel like you’re in therapy. You also feel like you’re about to cry.
“Well…it’s just,” you start, throat feeling raw, “my mom couldn’t qualify for medical loans because of years of poor credit, and insufficient income, and her cancer treatments became really costly, and so–” you suck a breath in, because your voice cracks slightly at the end. You were not about to cry in front of them right now. “And so I decided to cosign on her loans so she could receive treatment, and stuff kept coming up, and I had to work reduced hours for a couple of years when she was first diagnosed, and…some payments got away from me, and so then…there was interest, and…it’s…I guess over five years, things just…accumulated.”
They both sit there in stunned silence, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, like they understand your situation is so fucked in its entirety that they can barely even bear to put themselves through the trouble of even imagining themselves in your shoes, let alone fathom that you’re living in them.
Higurama clears his throat and redirects his attention to the computer. “That’s… no problem for the prenup. Thank you for being honest.”
“Hey,” Gojo interjects, and his hand reaches out to lay over your fidgeting hands over the table. His eyes are serious. “Why didn’t you–” he starts, and his face softens slightly when you can’t help the small sheen of tears that reaches your eyes, “...why didn’t you say anything about this? I mean, anytime we’ve talked.”
It’s your turn to look at him with a tense expression, and you slowly withdraw your hands from the hold of his palm to place them in your lap under the table. “Uh, why would I share about my financial woes to my neighbor? Don’t most people just act like shit’s normal with their neighbors?”
“I guess, but I didn’t know it was that ba–”
Higurama’s phone starts to ring, and he glances at the Caller ID before sighing slightly. “Sorry, I have another client I need to see soon. We’ll have to wrap this up, but I’ll continue drafting this document. Please send me your relevant statements for any loans and–” he glances at you, “...associated debts.” He starts to gather his things at the table, then neatly tucks his papers into his briefcase before placing his laptop in there too. He reaches to shake Gojo���s hand first, then shakes yours, and holds onto your hand a second longer to gather your attention. His eyes are almost solemn.
“I truly hope your mother gets better soon,” he says to you, tone contrite. 
You slowly nod and thank him, and then Gojo goes to see him out the door.
The house feels quiet when Gojo closes the front entrance, and he stays facing the door for a few seconds before slowly turning around to face you, back leaning against it as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, and just when he opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off.
“I really–” you say, “...I really don’t want to talk about it.”
His face contorts into confusion, and it looks like he’s about to protest, but you allow yourself to show the slightest amount of the hurt and the worry on your face, and he realizes that means he shouldn’t try to push it.
“Okay,” he says, and quietly. 
Things are awkward in the air for a second, so you waltz over to the window and watch through it as Higurama gets into his car, some type of sleek old black Mercedes Benz but it’s polished to perfection, and you let out a content sigh.
“What?” Gojo asks you, tone a little short. 
“Ohhh, nothing,” you say, bringing your hands up to cup your cheeks to feel their warmth as you take in the image of Higurama’s slender legs in his business attire, “I just…” you sigh again, “I just loooove men in suits. I wish I knew more men that wore them often.”
A beat of silence. “Um. I wear them often?”
You turn on your heel to face him. “Yeah, but you wear them in, like, a slutty way. Higurama,” you say, pointing with your thumb facing the window, “wears them in the actually respectable workplace way. Hence why it’s hotter on him.”
He scoffs. “And yet you’re always staring at my ass from afar when I’m wearing my tailored trousers.” 
“I seriously wonder what it’s like to be so fucking delusional all the time,” you shake your head at him and he looks like he’s got a comeback on his tongue but you sshhhhhhhh him and walk back into the heart of the house. You look over your shoulder briefly, and see Gojo’s standing where you were standing at the window a few seconds ago, looking out onto the street, and he’s grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite hear. And then you hear the sound of Higurama’s car driving away. 
You circle around the dining table, and take a seat to look through the marriage paperwork Higurama left behind for the two of you to fill out.
“Bring the paperwork over to the kitchen island,” you hear Gojo say as he makes his way to the kitchen, “I’ll fix us some coffee.”
The island has a seated side to it with bar stools that raise high and turn in fully 360 degree fashion, so you swirl around in your seat to make yourself dizzy while Gojo brews some coffee with his espresso machine. 
“Mm…smells nice,” you comment, still swirling.
“Milk? Sugar?” he asks you, and you stop swirling to answer him.
It’s not the first time you’ve been to Gojo’s house. When he first moved in next door, you brought him a plate of cookies as a welcome to the neighborhood! gift and he had invited you inside and fixed you a cup of coffee then too. The house was mostly empty back then, he’s made a lot of good work in filling it with furniture in that sort of IKEA catalog fashion, and you can clown on him for it all you want, but it still looks nicer than most homes you’ve been in. Anyways, you only visited him in his house a couple times after that before you realized you hated him. Because he blasts loud music at the most random times, which you’re convinced he’s just trying to show off the sound system he probably spent an unnecessary amount of money on, not to mention an unnecessary amount of time installing. He also always forgets to mow his fucking lawn, and it drives you nuts because then the weeds spread over into your lawn, but it’s not like it matters because you hardly mow yours either, but still. And that fucking boat. That fucking boat he keeps right at the edge of your driveway that taunts you and your ability to pull into garages after every single one of your dreadful night shifts. One of these days, you might just steal it and drive it into the ocean so it drowns. Wait, boats don’t drown. That’s the point of boats. They’re buoyant. It’s okay, you’ll find another way to get rid of it. The boat, you mean. 
“Here you go,” he says, sliding a cup of coffee to you across the island. You peer inside at the brown liquid, and the scent alone awakens your senses.
“So, logistics,” you say.
“Logistics,” he repeats after you as he stirs a spoon in his mug. 
“We need to make this believable,” you say to him, “otherwise the marriage could be invalidated, and we could face criminal charges, and I could lose the insurance benefits for my mom, and potentially get sued by said insurance companies, and get thrown into jail for life, and—”
“And how much sleep have you lost thinking about this?” he asks you with a sigh as he brings his mug up to take a sip. 
“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you say to him, “I…would just rather err on the side of caution. It’s a small town, people talk. And sometimes those people know the law.” You shudder.
“Who the fuck is out there that would be so pissed about us getting married just so you can help out your sick mom?” he asks.
Your eyes flicker downwards slightly in consideration. You can think of one person, at least. And when you look up at him, you’re surprised to see there’s a similar look on his face, as if he could think of a particular one person too. But before you can dwell more on the expression on his face, he grabs the paperwork in front of you and looks through some of it. “You should get started on your paperwork. Higurama filled most of mine out for me already, so you’re the one he’s waiting on.”
You groan and stretch your arm out across the island counter, then lay your head on your upper arm. “Sigh, why couldn’t he have done that for meee tooooo.”
“Probably because he doesn’t know you?” Gojo snorts. He’s silent for a moment as he takes another sip. You can’t see his face. “So,” he starts, “I mean. If we’re going to make this believable, which, to be honest, I don’t think a single person in this neighborhood would find us getting married believable, but still, if we were to try making it believable, wouldn’t it make sense for us to, uh, I don’t know, live together? Like what regular married couples do.”
“I am appalled you would even suggest that.”
“It’s going to look like we’re just faking it if we don’t at least cohabitate together,” he tells you.
“We can’t do that,” you sigh, “I bet you’d try to touch me inappropriately.”
“What???” 
“Yeahhh, I don’t know, you just—...you just seem like a guy with very little self control.”
“...y’know what? This is over. I’m calling off this engagement,” he says, and he walks over to the dining table with his coffee cup in hand and you lift your head up off your arm in a panic.
“Wha–...no!! Wait!!” you say, grabbing all the paperwork off the island and bringing it to the dining table where he’s taken a seat. “Please marry me. I need it so bad.”
“Woah,” he says, looking up at you, and there’s a darker glint to his eyes. “You need it so bad? Can you say that again?”
You curl up the papers in your hands into a makeshift hollow pole and whack him across the head with it. “This is exactly why I think you would touch me inappropriately.”
He grumbles slightly as he nurses the spot you whacked him with two of his fingers rubbing the area, and then he fixes his hair with a comb of his hand through it. The sleeve of his shirt drops a little from the movement, and you can see the muscles of his arm flex, then your eyes are quickly darting away so he doesn’t catch the line of your gaze on him. What the fuck. That was weird. You blame ovulation. 
“Alright, fine,” he says, and he grabs the papers out of your hand, “also don’t bend these. It bothers me.” 
You circle back to the kitchen to grab your abandoned coffee cup, and then bring it to the dining table to sit down with him at it. He places your half of the papers in front of you. You glance down at the first few boxes to fill out, and you already feel like giving up.
You glance up at him for a distraction. “Aren’t you going to ask me how long I want you to be married to me for?” you ask him.
“Uh, how long do you want me to be married to you for?”
“Forever,” you say. To scare him.
“Yeah, right.” He waves his hand in the air dismissively. 
You sulk because it didn’t scare him. “Six months.”
“More plausible.”
“Really,” you say earnestly, “six months.”
He looks up at you now, a curious expression on his face. “Why specifically six months?”
Your eyes find the color of your coffee fascinating once again. “I don’t want to put my mother in hospice for too long. I’ll miss her,” you say, “it’s just…something I’m trying out for now. And to just get a bit of a caretaking break, and also so I can pick up more shifts at the hospital to work on paying off my debt. It’s just…temporary.”
His shoulders roll back once and he sits up a little straighter, holding up one of the pieces of paper to study it better while he clicks his pen. “Alright. Whatever works for you.”
You twiddle with your hands again, blinking a little in consideration as a few moments pass by. “Uh…about living together. That’s fine. I suppose.”
His eyes widen slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah. But no touching,” you point at him with a strict finger.
He tilts his head back up to the ceiling in annoyance. There’s a roll in the muscles of his throat as his jaw goes slack. You squirm in your chair a little. Ovulation, you think. 
“I’m not going to touch you, y/n,” he assures you when his chin tips back down. You just stare at him for a few seconds as he seems to be in thought about something, and then his eyes meet yours. “Whose house are we going to live in?”
“Mine,” you say, “yours looks like a shitty catalog. It’s lame.”
“True,” he says, “yours feels homey. I like that.”
You’re a little taken aback by his words, and then purse your lips together. Your sort of go-to thanks expression reserved for him. “So, are you gonna sell your house then?”
“Huh? No way,” he shakes his head, “I’ll just see if I can rent it out for now.” He shakes his head even more. “I mean, god no, I wouldn’t be caught dead selling a house. Not with these market conditions. You know how much it’s already risen in equity within just the past few months alone? In five years from now—”
While Gojo continues to drone on about the lunacy of not holding onto property in this housing market, your eyes widen slightly at his words, like your body realizes a truth to what he’s saying before your mind does.
And then that’s when it hits you.
How you can help pull yourself out of debt.
You slam your coffee mug down on the table with a little more fierceness than you probably should’ve.
“Hey,” he scolds you, “can you be careful with that?”
“We’re not going to live in my house,” you say, ignoring him, “we’re gonna live in yours.”
“Huh?” he responds, “...but I thought you said mine looks like a catalog.”
“A shitty catalog.”
“Did you need to specify?”
“We’re not going to live in my house,” you tell him, with resolve, “because I’m gonna sell my house.”
He sits up a little straighter at your words. “Like, the house next door?”
“Mhm,” you nod.
He sighs. “Were you even listening to me? It’s so much more worth it to–”
“I don’t care,” you cut him off, “I need the money now. Not five years from now.” Your eyes glance down at your hands, and your tone becomes quiet. “I…I don’t even know if my mom has five years left to live.”
A silence settles in the room, and you see in your periphery that Gojo’s stiff and still, like he’s barely allowing himself to breathe as if you’d find it abrasive, and when you look over at him, his expression is soft.
“I know,” he says. “It sounds like a plan.”
“Will you help me sell it?” you ask him. “I’d…need a realtor.”
“Sure,” he easily agrees.
“Okay…” you say, and take a sip of lukewarm coffee, as if you haven’t just decided on an extremely major life decision. “Um. I’ll go get the paperwork then. From my house.”
“Oh. Right now?” he asks you, and he leans forward in his seat a little to get a closer look at your face. “I mean, don’t you want some time to think about it before putting it on the market? We can wait for a little bit.”
“No. That’s okay,” you say, standing up from your chair, “I’ll…go get the paperwork.”
He nods at you slowly, but his eyes are observant, and you ignore it to keep up the momentum of this decision that was definitely the right decision by all means and one that you should not be hesitating on at all as it is such an epiphany that can help clear your debilitating financial burdens. 
“Drive safe,” he says to you when you grab your purse off the coffee table in the family room.
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
The outside air is breezy, it’s a nice day with the sun shining down and sparkling off of sprinkler dew drops on overgrown grass, and you hop across with a pep in your step as you make it to your house next door. You’re always quiet when opening the door, because you never know when your mom is sleeping or not, and since her bedroom is downstairs, she’s privy to noises. Once you’re inside, you check to make sure she’s sleeping with a small creak open of her door, only to find that she’s sitting on her rocking chair and looking through a box of paintings.
Your heart twists at the sight, and you gently knock the door with your knuckles.
She glances up at you, and you can always tell from just the look in her eyes if she recognizes you or not. Because they’re warm and gentle when she does, but they see right past you to the wall when she doesn’t.
“Hello,” she says, “can I help you?”
You come up to her and kneel down beside her, placing a hand up on the rocking chair arm rest while she looks down at you.
“Hi, mom. It’s me. Your daughter,” you gentle reintroduce yourself. It’s what her neurologist suggested you do anytime she can’t remember you, but it rips away a piece of your soul each time.
Her eyes still see past you, abstract, empty with no feeling as she wraps her head around your words. “I am no one’s mother,” she tells you, tone sounding sharp and like she’s a moment away from terror.
“That’s okay,” you quickly remediate, feeling hollow inside from her words but you always had to be the sane one, so you direct her attention to the box in her lap. “What are you looking at?”
“Oh, I just found these paintings!” she exclaims. “I thought they were wonderful. Do you know who drew them?”
You smile up at her. “You did.”
“Me?” she blinks at you. The wrinkles in her forehead crumple with surprise, “oh, no, dear, I could not paint such things with detail. Look at me!” She holds her hand up. “My hand is trembling!”
She’s getting weaker. You make a mental note to bring it up to her doctor.
“You used to hold a paint brush like it was just an extension of your hand,” you tell her, picking up one of the paintings out of the box, “you were an art teacher, mom.”
“Don’t call me mom,” she says to you, that sharp tone from earlier cutting through to your soul. “I am no one’s mother.” Her eyes shimmer with a light sheen of tears.
You stare at her, brow pinching together with hurt, but you bite back the part of you that wants to beg her to remember you, to take one close look at you, and see you with warmth and not emptiness. But she sees past you all the same.
“Can you do something for me?” you whisper to her.
“Yes?” she asks.
“Could you please lay down? You need some rest.”
“Are you my nurse?” she asks.
You breathe in deep. “Yes.”
“Am I…” she glances briefly at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her eyes flitting up to the head scarf on her head that covers the absence of hair, “am I sick?”
You exhale. “Yes. You need rest.”
“Oh…” she acknowledges, “why, yes. I do feel…a little frail.”
“I know,” you comment, and you put the box down on the floor then help her up onto her feet slowly by holding onto her arm, and you guide her to sit on the bed and take her medications. She then lays down, and you nod at her reassuringly before you head out the door and close it behind you.
Your lip trembles with the threat of a sob as you stare straight forward at the wall in the dimness of the hallway. But a harsh bite to the plush of it ceases the quiver.
You make your way up the stairs to go grab that binder you had with the mortgage and house information, plus some of your recent utility bills. Except the binder is hard to locate, and you’re rummaging through the cabinets in your closet, the drawer of your nightstand, you’re even looking underneath the bed. But when you lift your head up from under it, still kneeling on the carpet, and glance at the wall, you notice something.
48’’ eight yrs. what a big girl! 
46’’ seven yrs. big jump
41’’ six yrs.
37’’ five yrs. my little princess
..
–all written in graphite pencil, scribbled up the wall where you would stand tall against as a kid, your mom marking your height at every birthday. And your eyes start to well with tears. 
This was your childhood home. With magical corners tucked away where you used to play hide and seek with your dad, with your old bedroom you used to play in with dolls and have tea parties with all your stuffed animals. There’s still a stain of fruit juice on the carpet underneath the rug that you never told your mom about because you knew she would be mad at you and would scrub it out, but it was in the shape of a heart and when you were a kid, you thought that meant you would find your prince charming some day. This house holds so many memories, like birthday parties and Christmas Eve and the sunflower patch in the backyard where you laid Sniffles to rest.
And it holds the familiarity of you that seems to be slipping through your mother’s fingers with each passing day, all those memories you created with her now solely yours to keep and no longer to share. But you realize at this moment that you’re not alone. This house still holds those memories with you.
Your eyes flicker to the graphite pencil marks on the wall again, and the tears flow freely.
In the moments where she cannot remember that you are her baby, this house remembers for her.
Your sleeve wipes at the dampness on your cheeks.
But it’s never enough, is it? And it’s never that easy, either. Life was never that easy, and you don’t always have the choices you might think you do.
You find the binder, and grab all the utility bills too, and head downstairs. You pass by your mother’s room with softness and sleuth, and guilt in your heart when you realize what you’ve chosen to do. There’s no pep to your step when you make it back to Gojo’s.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
“Sooo,” Gojo says, after about twenty minutes of looking through all the house paperwork in the binder at the dining table, “your mom transferred ownership of the house to you as a gift deed when she was diagnosed?”
“Mhm,” you say.
“She paid off quite a bit of it,” he comments as he looks through banking statements, “but still not enough to pay off your medical debt, unfortunately.”
You sigh. “I know. It was never really a house she could afford anyways. She just received it from the divorce, and I remember we were supposed to downsize, but…she didn’t want to.”
“I see,” Gojo comments, “well, it’s alright, it would still help you a lot for sure. How many years are left for your solar panel lease?” He has a pen in hand and a custom realtor notepad in front of him with his messy handwriting all over it. 
“It’s new,” you say, “still got thirty years left.”
“Jeez, okay. How much per month?”
You scavenge through the bills on your table. “Ummm um um ummm…….”
“You should really…get more organized.”
“You should really mind your fucking business.” You find the bill. “$285 per month.”
“Okay,” he scribbles it down, “does it offset your electricity bill?”
Your shoulders sulk. “A little bit.”
“Yeah, it might scare some buyers away.”
You sigh. “Oh and then the HOA too.”
“HOA?” he looks up at you with a puzzled expression on his face. “We don’t have an HOA in this neighborhood.”
“We don’t?” you blink at him. “Then who have I been sending $195 dollars to every month?”
“…….....you’ve seriously gotta be some special kind of stupid.”
After panicking for five minutes while checking your credit cards for fraudulent activity, Gojo gets done cutting up an apple for you. 
“Here,” he says, sliding the plate to you, “since you look like you’re about to faint. Knowing you, it’s probably just low blood sugar.”
You dramatically sigh and sink in your chair. “I can’t believe I spent the last three years paying an HOA that doesn’t even exist…”
“Hey, on the bright side, there’s some dude out there on an exotic vacation that’s very thrilled by your idiocracy right now.”
You shoot him a look. And then you hang your head low to drink your extremely cold coffee that you were still nursing, before downing it all in one go. Your eyes catch the marriage paperwork that Gojo was reviewing earlier, and you see Higurama’s pre-filled in information that he typed onto the papers before printing them for him. 
“Hm,” you hum, “it says here that you’ve been married before. You might want to get that fixed before we submit these.”
He stands up from the table, two of his fingers hooking onto the handle of his coffee cup, and he glances into yours to make sure it’s empty, briefly flicking his eyes to you and you shake your head for no, no more coffee, thanks before he wraps his other two fingers around the handle of your mug as well. The clink of the two porcelain mugs in his hand startles you a little as he walks past you to the kitchen sink. “There’s nothing to fix about that,” he says, his tone level and easy, “it’s true. I’ve been married before.”
Your eyes widen at his confession, and you quickly twist your torso in your chair to stare at him. Or at least, the back of him as he turns the faucet on and begins to rinse out coffee mugs. 
Married? Before? There are so many questions swimming through your head right now, ones that you desperately want answers to, biggest of all perhaps being now who the fuck would actually want to marry him??? for real??? you’re telling me this self obsessed dork proposed to a real life woman with a pulse and she actually said ‘yes’ to him??? who was this woman, and which psych ward did he find her from??? 
But he’s so quiet from where he stands, broad shoulders less pushed back like they usually are, and something tells you he wouldn’t entertain any of those questions from you right now. A glance at the paperwork, though, tells you the divorce was recent. Less than a year ago. Around the time he moved in next door. 
He still has his back facing you, and you try to sneakily catch a glimpse at more info under the Wife section on the prior marriages form. You can see the paper says maiden name: Inoue and you’re just about to sneak a peak at the first name when—
“You want to stay for dinner?” he asks when he turns around, leaning back against the sink counter. “I’m ordering pizza tonight.”
You’re surprised by the sudden invitation, and shuffle the papers over one another again. “Oh–that’s…that’s okay.” You glance at the clock he has hanging on the wall. “I’ve got work in a couple of hours, so…I should really get going. Have a few errands to run before then.”
“Okay, so, we’ll…talk later?”
“Yeah, later,” you stand up from your chair, and for some reason, the air feels a little heavier to you now. “Uh…” you start, awkwardly scoffing a little, “wow. Bachelor life again, then, huh? Probably just–...probably just beer and pizza every night?”
He purses his lips together, humoring you with a small laugh that comes out as a scoff through his nostrils. “No. Not really. I only order pizza when I close a sale on a house. My way of celebrating.”
“Oh,” you respond, “I see.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he says.
“I live next door,” you remind him.
His eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Right.”
“H-Hope the traffic’s not too bad!” you joke.
His laugh comes more genuine now. “You’re stupid.”
You head towards the door, and when he opens it for you, there’s a chill of air outside and it’s darker now, hues of dark gray, purple and a slight orange still present on the horizon paint the sky and you step outside then turn on your heel to face him.
“Um. Congrats, by the way. On the sale,” you tell him, “enjoy your night. And I’ll see you this weekend?”
“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’s happening this weekend?”
“We–” you scoff, “we’re getting married this weekend?”
“Oh!” he exclaims, tense, “right, yes, see you this weekend. For marriage. Of us.”
You roll your eyes and make your way down the concrete pavement that leads its way to his house, and leads its way away from it too. And when you walk back to your house, it’s not with a sulk, but it’s not with a pep in your step either. You just feel…neutral.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
“So, tell me about this fake husband of yours,” Hana says, leaning against your work-on-wheels as you attempt to catch up on charting notes with 4 hours and 15 minutes and 53 seconds left on your shift (it’s not like you were counting though).
“Yeah, in a sec,” you mumble as you punch in keys.
6/2/2024 0344: patient placed on 5150 hold on 5/31 at 1745, continually monitored by ED tech. all objects have been removed from pt’s room to prevent any danger to self or others. however patient accessed hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall at roughly 0320 and ingested all the hand sanitizer. notified MD of toxic ingestion, follow up plan is to coordinate care with poison control. no further orders at this time
“Okay, what were you saying?” you look up at Hana again and rub the tired out of your eye with a balled up hand, along with all the mascara. 
“Your fake husband!! Tell me about him!!” she chirps, shaking your work-on-wheels in excitement and the blur of your computer screen makes you feel dizzy.
“Shhhhh,” you hiss at her, “keep your voice down when we discuss illegal activities.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why are you always so paranoid? I’m already sick and tired of you charting incessantly every five seconds to save yourself from medical lawsuits that you haven’t even been accused of.”
“In a medical lawsuit, the chart is the law, Hana,” you say eerily with a shiver, and her words remind you to continue your detailed charting. “Never forget that.”
She sighs. Her gaze travels across to the other end of the emergency department, and you assume she’s staring at the asses of the EMT boys again, so you glance over your shoulder too. 
Except instead, you see the worst person on the planet.
Well, second worst as of right now.
The worst person title was reserved for someone else.
Approaching from down the hall is Yuna, your ex-best friend, a bounce in her step as she walks with a sort of allure as her hips rock side to side, her mile-high ponytail swaying in beat with the rhythm as well, and the ashy blond highlights in her hair hypnotize anyone she waltzes by. 
She was the kind of nurse that all the other nurses are jealous of. Always has cute little accessories and stickers on their badge, is wearing the fancy FIGS scrub sets that hug her sporty curves in all the right places, paired with those little shoes with the ankle socks, and she most definitely gets her water goal in for the day because she’s always sucking on the straw of her periwinkle Stanley cup around the ED all night just like she sucked the cum out of your boyfriend of seven years just twenty-four hours after the two of you had broken up–
“y/n,” she casually calls your name, leaning her elbow up on the cubicle divider of the nursing station. “It’s time for you to take your break. I’ll watch your patients.”
“I’m not taking my break,” you say, trying to relax the grit to your teeth which makes your eye twitch out of frustration instead. “Now get the fuck away from me before I call a Code Black.”
She sighs, rolling her eyes and smacking loudly on her gum. “Yaga said you have to take your thirty tonight. Something about how you haven’t clocked out for a break in more than two months and the hospital could get sued for that.”
“The hospital has way bigger cases they should be biting their nails about getting sued over,” Hana snorts just to butt in on conversation.
“C’mon,” Yuna says, her fingers reaching out to touch the handle of your work-on-wheels, purposefully stretched so that you can eye the perfect sparkly manicure to her nails. You curl your fingers into the skin of your palms to hide your gel polish that’s long started to scrape off. “Go clock out.”
“I’d rather die than listen to a single fucking thing you tell me to do,” you tell her, plain and simple.
“y/n!” a loud masculine voice calls from the other end of the Emergency Department, and all three of you visibly shrink a little in your stances out of fear. Head nurse Yaga. “Take your break, or I’ll be damned to let you set another foot in this hospital!!” he’s yelling at you all the way from the entrance to the CT scanner.
“But–”
“Now!!!!!”
Your eyes flicker to Yuna, who has an amused look on her face and a tilt to her head, and then you’re grumbling before logging out of your computer then stepping away from it. “Draw a CBC & chem on Beds 24 and 28 at 4 AM sharp,” you grumble to her, and she just gives you one of those tight-skinned smiles. 
The break room is empty, with shades of beige on the walls and even more depressing shades of gray on the lockers. There are all sorts of things pasted on the walls, like photos from staff Halloween and Christmas parties, drawings that pediatric patients have made in appreciation of their nurses, and employee information that Yaga’s constantly shoving in everyone’s faces. 
Okay, the backstory with Yuna. Pretty simple. You two had been best friends since high school, like inseparable best friends. Y’know, sneaking out late at night to use fake IDs at the bar, cover for the other when you’re busy losing your virginity to your high school boyfriend in the most dishonorable way possible, rooming together in college, sobbing and crying through all of nursing school together, ride or die type of friendship that you think you’d only find once in a lifetime. Except turns out your best friend, who you’d considered a sister, had eyes for your boyfriend since you started dating him in college, and the second that dickwad dumped you, you catch her sucking him off in the back of his Toyota Camry when you go to pick your stuff up from his place. Yeah, ouch. You lost the two closest people in your life, all in the matter of twenty-four hours, so pardon yourself for being a bit bitter about it. 
But being bitter is the coping mechanism. The real way you feel comes in the form of tears prickling in your eyes and the pain in your throat as you try to swallow away the knot that’s suffocating you from the inside out. A type of loneliness that leaves you stranded even in a room full of people. But at the very least, this room is empty, so no one has to see the crack in your resolve.
There’s no time on a thirty-minute lunch break to have a full mental breakdown, so you sparsely wipe at your tears and head back to your shift.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
If you want to know who actually holds the worst person on the planet title right now, well, you run into him on a Tuesday afternoon while on a grocery run after you just woke up from barely sufficient post night shift sleep. Bitter and drugged by Melatonin was not a state of being you needed to be in right now, but you’re out of orange juice and you’re having Vitamin C withdrawals which warrants a trip to the store. Unfortunately, the town only has one grocery store, which means you were bound to run into pestering ex-boyfriends at least once every full moon. 
“Get the fuck out of my way, Choso,” you snarl at the man who’s walking backwards ahead of your grocery cart, trying to stop you in your tracks so you’d just chill out and listen to him for a second.
“Can you just chill out and listen to me for a second?” he asks you, irritation evident in his voice like you’re being the difficult one here.
“I already told you that I quite literally never want to see your stupid ugly face ever again for as long as I live,” you say, and you ram your grocery cart forward with so much force the metal hits his knees and he doubles over the basket indignantly with a groan.
He seems like he’s had enough of you evading him, so he jams his foot under the wheel to keep you from moving forward, and you’re scowling at him and struggling against his foot-stop but to no avail. 
You briefly consider abandoning your cart all together and just bee-lining for the exit, but he’s a cop, so he’d easily be able to tackle you to the ground if you tried.
“What do you want?” you snarl, impatiently tapping your foot with every miserable passing second spent in his presence. 
“I just–” He sighs, “I just want to talk. And to know how you’re doing. You won’t pick up any of my calls.”
“Huh?” You blink at him. “I’ve had you blocked for the past two weeks. You shouldn’t even be able to call me.”
His eyebrows raise. “Really?...who have I been dialing then?” 
“Fuck if I know,” you shrug, and you use his moment of confusion to swerve your cart off to the side and make your way down the refrigerator aisle. Ohhh, dulce de leche gelato sounds nice, and it’s on sale. You grab a jar. 
Choso’s trailing behind you as you eye price tags and sale signs in the open chill of the yogurt section. “Babe–”
“Don’t–” you immediately cut him off, spinning fast on your heel and he stops himself just in time from crashing right into you. You hold your index finger up in the air between the two of you with a clench to your jaw so tight it feels sore, and through gritted teeth you say, “don’t call me babe.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. It’s habit.”
Indeed, habit. Seven years of him calling you babe, or baby, or boobie (idk don’t ask). Your favorite though? Babydoll. He’d always call you that when he’d make sweet, sweet love to you while you were wearing his favorite flimsy little piece of lingerie–babydolls. Even now, the memories have your cheeks feeling hot. But he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore, and he doesn’t get to fuck you anymore, or talk to you anymore, or breathe in your general direction anymore, because he betrayed you. He wasted your time, and then he betrayed you.
Seven years of your sexual prime, where you could’ve been fucking hunky firefighters and bisexual Europeans, wasted on a man you weren’t even going to marry in the end anyways. Now you’re pushing thirty, and the idea of having to date again makes your skin crawl with anxiety that turns into fury because your doom is all caused by the man in front of you.
Whatever, forget about the sex and the impending loss of a woman’s novelty within society for a second. You loved him. A part of you still loves him. You wanted to marry this man. You thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with this man. Little sheriff deputy’s wife, Mrs. Kamo, the perfect number of letters to get on a bejeweled license plate. You had envisioned all the cute little quotes of adoration that would be imprinted on your wedding reception’s custom-made doily napkins with everyone that’s ever meant anything to you sitting at the table, ready to celebrate the love that you thought was real and true and brave and strong and one that would last forever.
But he abandoned you when you were at your lowest. And he fell into the arms of the one person you thought you could turn to crying when the relationship crashed and burned in the first place. And the problem with living in a small town is that everyone knows everybody’s business, so now you’re just the woman that wasted her youth on a man that played her like a broken fiddle. Utterly heartbroken, and humiliated. 
So, yeah, he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore.
“Listen here, asshole,” you say, stabbing him in the chest with your finger, so he can feel even a fraction of the pain you’ve felt in the past three weeks, “I couldn't care less if you live today, or die tomorrow. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone. Or I’ll file for a restraining order.”
“Really?” he says, brows pulled tight together in disbelief, like he just can’t understand what he’s done to make you act this way, and quite frankly, that only makes it sting even worse, “after everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to throw away the past seven years?”
“What the fuck are you saying?!” you all but snap at him, and an elderly couple that’s passing by flinches a little from the noise and you wince in apology before glaring at Choso again. Your voice is hushed this time. “You’re the one that broke up with me, but I’m the one that’s throwing it all away??”
He purses his lips together, and you notice how dark the circles under his eyes are. He shuts them tightly and leans back away from you, which makes you realize how much he was leaning into your space just a second ago. “I know that we…aren’t dating anymore. But, I mean, c’mon, y/n, it’s me. Just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean that I don’t still…care. I want to know how your mom’s doing, and how treatment has been for her, and–” he glances up at the ceiling briefly, as if to mislead you into thinking that the next thing he says is just as nonchalantly desired as the other things he listed, “and I want to know how you’re doing, too.”
“You don’t deserve to know how I’m doing. Continue to wallow in your pathetic self righteousness, or go run with your tail between your legs to that two-faced rat I used to call a best friend. Either way, I don’t give a damn,” you say, in a way that very much sounds like you give a damn unfortunately, and spin on your heel to continue pushing your cart down to the juice section.
“Yuna and I–” you hear him say behind you, and just the mention of her name on his tongue makes your heart ache in your chest, to the point you need to place a flat palm over it just to alleviate the pain, “I–...I broke things off with her yesterday.”
Fuck. Pretend like you’re not fazed by that info. Pretend like you’re not fazed by that info.
“Okay? Whatever,” you barely manage to say.
He’s silent for a moment behind you. The wheels of your cart squeak as they roll. 
“I mean, we’re not together anymore. I’m not seeing her anymore,” he clarifies, as if he didn’t believe you heard him right the first time.
“Cool,” you comment, tone colder this time, since you had the practice round. 
“You don’t–” Choso starts, a rattle of hurt and confusion in his voice, “you don’t care about that?”
“Nope.” 
He reaches out to grab your wrist, and the contact burns through your skin, like something so familiar yet so foreign. You turn your head to look at him. 
“I…” he starts, and you can see his chest rising and falling with more intensity. Oh god. Please. Please don’t say it. You’re not sure you can handle hearing it. “I really miss you.”
Damn it, he said it.
Your posture relaxes slightly when you take a long look at him. You finally notice his hair has gotten longer in just the three weeks you’ve been apart, layered locks curling at the end of his neck, and it’s the first time you’ve noticed such a small detail because you were so used to spending everyday with him. He spent most of the week at your house, since the two of you could never formally move in with one another after your mother was diagnosed and it was easier for him to come by to yours so you could continue to keep an eye on her. There’s no option to live on your own and start your own life when you’re taking care of someone sick. They become your priority, not yourself, but you’d still make every single sacrifice you’ve made for your mother over and over again in a heartbeat if you had to relive the past five years. 
But that meant that you never had a real and true chance to live the life that you wanted with Choso. A place just for the two of you, lived in intimate solitude and not with the cries of your mother down the hall when she feels too sick to get up out of bed or when she cannot remember her own name. But you had never been this far apart from him to where you notice his hair is an inch longer than it was the last time you saw him. He was never that far away, as he is now. And you’ve just now realized it.  
“I don’t,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat and your voice quivers ever so slightly when you speak, “I don’t care that you miss me.” You take a deep breath. “I’m getting married this weekend.”
His face entirely relaxes, like a calm before the storm, before it twists with so much confusion and incredulity and shock and–was that horror on his face?
“What?” he practically spats out, “it’s only been three weeks since we broke up!”
“Uhh,” you glance up at the ceiling of the store, just in time for an employee to make an announcement on the overhead for a manager at checkout lane 2 please, and then you glance back down at him, “I was having an affair while we were dating.” An easy lie. 
He scowls. “Yeah fucking right. There’s no way you’d cheat on me.”
His words burn bitter. The fact that he couldn’t even fathom you hurting him the same way he hurt you makes you clench your teeth. Because he knew you were better than he was, and that you were too good for him, and yet he still wasted your honor.
His friends, who used to be yours too, have probably fed him lies since the breakup. Like it’s okay, man. You broke up with her before you got involved with someone else. You didn’t do anything wrong.
But you say bullshit to all of that. Because after seven years of being together, you can’t just cold turkey a relationship like that to sleep with someone else, and then claim it’s not cheating. Technicalities like that were no vindication if the betrayal hurt all the same in the end. Because it still felt like you got cheated on regardless.
“Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself to you,” you tell him, “I’m getting married this weekend, so I really don’t give a damn about anything between us anymore. It’s over.”
“Who are you marrying?” he asks, suddenly breaking a sweat over the news like he’s starting to suspect you’re actually being serious.
“My neighbor.”
His face twists with disgust. “Old man Jenkins? He’s eighty-four years old.”
You roll your eyes. “Not the one on my left, you idiot. My neighbor to my right.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up in a ridiculing smirk, and the sight of it makes your skin crawl. He scoffs. “There’s no way. You hate that guy.”
“It’s true. I’m marrying him.”
“Seriously??” He guffaws at you, leaning in closer to you and you lean away until your back is resting on the handle of your shopping cart. “The obnoxious realtor I once heard you talking in your sleep about how much you want to murder him and then dump him in a lake?”
“What?! I talk in my sleep?!” you gasp.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. You have for years.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that?!”
He looks annoyed. “Because you’re such a hypochondriac. You would’ve thought you had a brain tumor or something, and I’d have to deal with the paranoia that follows suit.”
“Choso,” you say to him with a strict tone, jutting your hip out to the side in preparation to scold, “my mother has Alzheimer’s, which is genetic, and I was having an abnormal neurological symptom for years which has studies to show is an early indication of dementia and you just chose not to tell me because you didn’t want to be annoyed?!”
“See?” he gestures to you, “you’re doing it right now. How did we go from just sleep talking to ‘I might have dementia’?” 
“We,” you point between you and him, “are never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever getting back together. If there’s one thing you can pull through that stupid skull of yours, make it that.”
“Excuse me,” you hear a tiny voice squeak out, and you turn to your right to see a little kid trying to push past the two of you to grab a box of GoGurt in the Yogurt section. You move your cart forward by bumping it with your butt to get out of the kid’s way, and Choso circles around to the front of your cart before you start moving forward again. Like he’s literally stopping you from moving on from him. 
“You’re lying about marrying this guy,” Choso says like it’s a fact. In typical cop gaslighting fashion. “You’re just saying that to make me jealous.”
You roll your eyes. “No. I’m just that hot and gorgeous that I made a man fall in love with me in three weeks.”
“He’s in love with you?” he asks.
“Duh, he wants to marry me. When you dumped me, I found comforting solace in my next-door-neighbor, and we fell into bed with one another, and now he feels the obligation to provide for me for the rest of my life. What’s so hard to believe about that? You didn’t find abrupt matrimony odd when we binged all three seasons of Bridgerton two months ago.”
“That show is set in the fuckin’ regency era,” he hisses at you, “look around. There’s plastic bags of Hot Cheetos with Red 40 in them everywhere. Does this look like the 1800s to you?”
You have to be careful with him. He’s a cop, who could arrest you for medical insurance fraud, and would also have a personal vendetta against your marriage because boo hoo he misses you. But yes, he was right, you did want to make him jealous, and you just can’t help it.
“Well, me and him have a love that no one else can understand, so suck it. I’m marrying him, and he’s super into me, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me, and he desperately wants to put babies in me, and–”
“And where’s the ring he gave you, then?”
Fuck. You briefly flick your gaze down to your left hand and note the daunting absence of a shiny diamond on your ring finger. Note to self, Gojo needs to buy you a ring.
“I left it at home,” you mumble.
“Uh-huh, as all newly engaged women who have been waiting for a ring all their life would do.”
That pisses you off. Because you were waiting your whole life for him to put a ring on your finger, and he never did. 
“Go fuck a fleshlight,” you snarl at him, unfortunately in earshot of the GoGurt kid and his mom shoots you a nasty look, but you’re a jaded woman after everything you’ve been through and you ram your cart into Choso so hard you swear you could’ve cracked his knee caps, and he doubles over in enough pain for you to have the time to leave him stranded there as you push your cart all the way to the end of the store. 
You finally make it to the orange juice section, the one thing you needed, although your cart is filled with things you didn’t need, because that’s always how these grocery runs go. You try to take a few breaths to calm down the fast beating in your heart after that confrontation with Choso. You’re not good with confrontation, even though it might seem like you are, but you’re just putting on a face. Acting strong, when really all you want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. But there are bills to pay, and images to upkeep, and orange juice to replenish. 
Your hand reaches out for the handle on the refrigerator door, but just before you curl your fingers around it, another hand beats you to it. It’s a large and masculine hand, with veins disappearing into the cuffed felted fabric of a suit jacket, and the knuckles turn a shade lighter than the olive skin around them when the fingers flex around the handle. 
You glance up at the person standing next to you, who you register towers over you in height. He has long, sleek black hair that shimmers under fluorescent lighting, some of which is tied up and out of his face, while the rest cascades over his back. But there’s tendrils of hair falling over the left side of his face, barely distracting you through the intensity of purple in his eyes when he glances at you.
“Ah, apologies,” he says, and the way he speaks is so calm and gentle, different from the intimidating aura he holds himself with. He retreats his hand from the handle.
“Oh, that’s–” you find yourself stuttering, “...that’s okay.” You grab the handle and open it, the chill rush of the fridge hitting you as your eyes peruse the selection of orange juice cartons while his eyes remain on you. You awkwardly glance at him again. “Sorry, d-did you also need to get orange juice?”
He nods. “Yes, I did.”
Not a man of many words, you think to yourself. Or maybe just around people he’s just met.
Your eyes catch the familiar labeling of your go-to orange juice, the one with no pulp and has added Vitamins D and E (basically the one for children), but you realize there’s only one left. You grab it anyway and put it in your cart. When you glance up at the handsome stranger beside you, there’s a slight look of amusement on his face.
“Seems we both have the same taste in orange juice,” he comments. 
“Oh no,” you say with a small laugh, “I’m sorry. It’s the last one.” Your eyes widen. “You–…you can have it, if you want–”
“Oh, no, no,” he shakes his head, long hair swaying with the motion as he holds his hands up in front of himself, “please. I will just find a nearby store.”
You tilt your head. “Oh there’s no other stores nearby…unless you get on the highway for at least twenty minutes. It’s a…small town.”
His lax expression finally cracks into one of subtle surprise. “That’s interesting.”
“Are you…new to town?” you ask.
He nods with a small smile on his face. “Indeed. Well, just visiting. I’m from New York.”
“Oh! Wow, that’s a long way from here.” You briefly register that he does look like a city man. Upscale restaurants, skyline views, premium outlets. The subtle fragrance of his cologne smells expensive too. “What are you up to while visiting?” You mentally facepalm yourself for asking personal questions, but he seems mysterious and you like peeling the layers back on people like him.
His expression drops, turning almost solemn and his eye contact that was previously very direct is suddenly averted elsewhere, “Just…visiting some old friends.” There is no elaboration.
“Ahh…I see,” you say, picking up on the hint that he has no more words to give you. “Well…I’ll be taking the orange juice…maybe try one with pulp?” you suggest a little cheekily. 
His lips tug upwards in a lopsided smile, one you’d call a smirk if you weren’t so mesmerized to define it as one, “I’ll think about it.”
You hum slightly in polite acknowledgement of him, then push your cart back towards the heart of the store without a word of goodbye.
Odd stranger, who’s good at giving misleading answers. You wonder what life he’s come here to escape. 
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
It’s a bright, picturesque Sunday morning, with children laughing and squealing out on the streets in front of your house as they ride their scooters up hot pavement while their parents catch up on PTA drama on the lawns. You’re standing in front of your full length mirror, trying on dress #3 for your little meeting with the courthouse today. And by little meeting, you mean your wedding. You’re getting married today.
The dress you have on falls to below your knees and has buttons all the way from the hem right up to the base of your neck, where the collared neckline wraps around you like a noose. Suffocating, way too prim and proper, although it’d make your grandma very happy and adored to see you should you show up to church service in it. 
Your bed is cluttered with clothes you’ve thrown across it as you try to find a good dress. Your hands move with impatience as you skim through the rack of your closet for another dress to try on, since you’re starting to push the time a little too much. You’ve only got ten minutes before you need to leave. 
A dress tucked in the corner of your closet catches your eye and you pull it out. It’s a cream-colored milk maid dress with an underskirt to puff out the A-line silhouette, length down to your shins that would be oh-so-flattering with a cute pair of heels. There are small red flowers adorning the pattern, with tiny green leaf details as well. It was cute and sweet and feminine, something you haven’t worn in a long time unlike your usual monotonous hospital scrubs, stained sweatpants and adult onesies.
It was the dress your friend Sana convinced you to buy when you thought you were going to get engaged. In the first two years of your relationship with Choso, you two talked about marriage non-stop. You both had just graduated college when you first started dating, and it felt like your lives were finally starting. At the end of the second year you two had been together for, after Christmas dinner with your family, he pulled you into his arms and you squealed with glee as he spinned you around in your childhood bedroom upstairs and told you how much he wanted to marry you, and that he was going to propose in the new year.
Your mother was diagnosed with cancer in January, and he never brought up marriage ever again. 
He still stayed with you for five years after that though, and swiftly dodged every single question you ever asked him about his impending proposal. For five years, you were fed every excuse in the book. And in hindsight, you feel like an idiot for staying, and for still holding out hope, when what you were really holding onto was heartbreak. The feeling of not being enough, like someone was just tolerating you, and not loving you. It was easy to ignore at times, given how occupied you were with driving your mother to chemotherapy appointments and reading up on books about which diet works best to slow down the development of Alzheimer’s because your mother started showing signs of dementia just two months after the cancer diagnosis. But in those moments of freedom, where you had a moment to breathe, all you could breathe was a suffocating smoke. Because you stopped feeling wanted or loved in between all of it.
But there was a trip he planned for the two of you to Greece. It was after your mother had first successfully gotten into remission. A gasp of fresh air amongst all the pain and suffering, and you could only assume that he wanted to celebrate by taking you on a trip. Sana was convinced he was going to propose to you on this trip, and you wondered if maybe he was just waiting until your mother felt better before he proposed so that the two of you could enjoy being newly engaged without the pressure or worry. Sana took you shopping, and you bought this dress, one that clings to your form in a way that made you feel beautiful. Made you feel wanted. Made you feel worthy of being loved. Because all other parts of yourself had been overlooked and paid no attention, but you thought a dress could save you. 
He never proposed. You left Greece with an extra suitcase of souvenirs, but without a ring on your finger or even a compliment on how beautiful you should’ve looked to him standing there on that beach with this cream-colored dress on, arm wrapped around his. And it was at that point you became numb, and you existed in limbo for the remaining four years of your relationship. Until he finally did what you silently begged him to do, with every sullen look in your eyes when you glanced at him. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, what he did to you. Something you willed him into because you didn’t have the strength to leave, and so he had to.
You hold the dress up to your form in the mirror. It’d still fit you, and it’s far too pretty to have only worn once. But you’ve been numb for so long now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to feel pretty in a dress. You unbutton yourself out of dress #3 and step into failed proposal dress #4, and as you slowly zip up the back of the dress, you’re met with resistance. 
Fuck.
The last thing you need right now is a weight-related meltdown.
You tug up on the zipper even more, harshly, to the point you hear a stitch rip and you gasp and try to do it slowly so as not to completely tear the dress apart. But it’s not fitting. It should fit. You just assume the zip is stuck, or it’s too rigid after years of no wear.
You’re about to do another colossal yank upwards that could potentially dislocate your shoulder when you jump at the sound of your phone chiming with a notification. And then multiple.
“What...the hell…do you want…” you sigh to nobody, swiping your hands across the pile of dress fabric on your bed to find your phone, and when you do, you quickly tap on the screen to see the messages.
|| 11:32AM neighbor (avocado tree): Hey, are we still getting married today?
First of all, wild fucking thing to nonchalantly ask.
|| 11:32AM neighbor (avocado tree): Your car’s still parked out front, so I wasn’t sure if you’ve left yet. I was just about to leave, and then the thought occurred to me that we should probably carpool?
|| 11:35AM neighbor (avocado tree): But just wanted to verify, are you sure you want to go through with this? You’re not having cold feet? Won’t be a runaway bride? I’m not gonna be left at the altar, wondering where I went wrong?
You roll your eyes, breathing heavily still from the struggle of zipping up your dress.
|| 11:36AM You: yes, we are still getting married. I just can’t zip up my dress for the life of me 
It takes him a whole minute to respond.
|| 11:38AM neighbor (avocado tree): Do you need help?
You blink at your phone screen. Help? What kind of help? Helping you zip up your dress?
You look over your shoulder to the full length mirror, eyeing your back. The dress was zipped up to just above the small of your back, with the rest of it flayed open to reveal the expanse of your skin. Setting your phone down, you roll your shoulders back once and flex your fingers to try again in securing this dress, but to no avail. You curse yourself for not having the flexibility, and to be honest, you’re not even sure if you can take the dress off anymore to get into something else with the way the zipper won’t budge neither up nor down. Well. You’re just going to have to wear this dress for the rest of your life now. A scary predicament.
You pick your phone up again.
|| 11:41AM You: yes
It only takes about two minutes for him to text you that he’s at your front door, a surprisingly considerate gesture considering your mother is sleeping downstairs so it’s good he didn’t ring the doorbell, and you tiptoe your way down and over the creaky floorboards of the stairs to the front entrance. 
You slowly crack the door open only a couple inches, hiding yourself from him behind it as you peek at him. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he says, and he glances at his watch. “We’ve got to hurry.”
You nod, and take note of his appearance. He’s wearing a dark fitted navy suit over a white dress shirt, which to your surprise, doesn’t have the top two buttons sluttily undone for once. His suit pants are perfectly tailored to his ankles and you can barely see the exposed fabric of black socks before they disappear into his polished Oxfords. He looks like he’s going to a wedding. Oh wait, he is. 
He raises an eyebrow at you when you refuse to reveal yourself by stepping away from behind the door. Even his hair is particularly kept and proper, swept off to the side slightly in a way that makes him look younger and you feel nervous from the intensity of those eyes, which are usually somewhat hidden by the fringe of his snowy hair, now look at you unwaveringly with no obstruction. You feel like you’re seeing him in a completely new light, and for some reason, it makes you cower behind the door even more. 
“Uh, are you going to let me in?” he asks you, his foot tapping lightly on the welcome! mat. 
“Yes,” you say, but you make no movement to prove your word. 
“y/n,” he says, “we need to get going.”
You sigh, tapping your fingers against the stained glass window of your front door to release some nerves before hesitantly stepping to the side and pulling the door open all the way, then you’re standing in front of him in full view. You catch a glimpse of the black tie hanging from his neck that’s secured all the way up to the collar of his shirt, before you finally look at his face.
Those striking eyes of his round slowly until he’s looking at you wide-eyed, blinking in some sort of dazed surprise as his gaze eventually sweeps down your entire form to take in the sight of you standing barefoot on wooden floor in your cream-colored dress, and you swear you see the muscles in his jaw jump. His brow furrows like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“You–” he starts, that shocked blinking still taking place on his face, and you grasp the fabric of your dress in front of you from the anticipation of what he’ll say, “...you look beautiful.”
A silence settles between the two of you as he continues to roam his eyes all down you like there’s nothing that could stop him from doing it, and you feel heat in your cheeks from his compliment. It’s just a silly little cream-colored dress. One that didn’t look pretty on a beach in Greece, so why would it look beautiful on you  here right now? While you’re standing at the dusty front entrance of a decades old house? He’s bullshitting you.
“You know you don’t have to compliment me, you know that, right?” you squeak out, trying to keep your tone level and easy to fight back the raw feeling in your throat, “this isn’t a first look. There are no photographers around to capture your reaction. We’re not actually getting married.”
“But–” 
“Can you just help me with the dress?” you cut him off so he doesn’t say anything else that makes you feel pretty right now.
“...sure,” he agrees, and he steps inside your house. You start to walk upstairs, and he follows suit, and you suddenly feel his eyes on your back so you turn around and walk up the stairs backwards while facing him.
“I don’t understand the concept of first looks anyway,” he says out of nowhere to cut the silence, “isn’t it a bad omen to see your partner before getting married?”
“That’s such an outdated superstition,” you tell him as your feet finally press firmly flat at the top of the stairs. 
One of his feet is placed next to where you’re standing up straight at the top, while the other is still on the third step down. And it’s like he’s kneeling on one knee in front of you as he looks up at you. After a moment of deep breathing on your part, you finally step away from the top of the stairs so he can finish walking up them too.
“I don’t know what happened,” you say to him as you make it to the front of your full length mirror, “I was just trying to zip it up but it got stuck. And it’s not unzipping either.”
He comes up behind you, and you can see in the mirror that he’s put a decent amount of space between the two of you from the way his arms are reached out in front of him just to access the zipper. He tugs up on it.
“Hm. It…” he struggles with it, “it seems…” he yanks again, “jammed?”
“Fudge,” you mutter under your breath (more ladylike perhaps, as opposed to fuck) and you sulk your shoulders. “But will it close at all, do you think?”
He takes a step closer to you, and his cologne has the fragrance of woody oak with undertones of citrus, like something expensive and sophisticated. His hand sweeps your hair off to the side and over your shoulder to the front so he has a better view, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck from the motion and you try to fight the shiver. A glance to the mirror, and you see his eyes are set on the exposed skin. He tugs to pull your dress together, and is able to cross the fabrics. “Yeah, it should. I think just hold your breath for a second? I’m going to try to see if zipping it down helps unjam it.” 
“Okay,” you say softly, and he eyes you in the mirror at the sudden subservience. 
You try to hold your breath as he tugs down on the zipper, and you hear the metallic click when he succeeds in unjamming it before he zips it down just an inch. You can feel the small of your back exposed to cool air from the motion. 
He’s suddenly frozen entirely behind you, the knuckle of his index finger brushing against your skin as he continues to pinch the zipper between it and his thumb. You feel his slow exhale on the back of your neck. You’re too scared to look at his expression in the mirror.
“Sa–” you stutter through a gasp, “Satoru.”
“Sorry,” he says quietly, and then he’s shifting on his feet once before slowly attempting to zip the dress up. 
He’s met with a slight resistance just underneath your shoulder blades. “Hey. Just hold your breath.”
“I’m trying to,” you tell him, almost whining, because it’s hard to stop breathing when your heart is beating fast and it needs the oxygen supply.
“Do you want to try on a different dress?” he asks you.
“No,” you immediately answer him. You’re not sure why, but the idea of wearing this dress for the rest of your life doesn’t scare you anymore. In fact, you never want to take it off.
Your hands twiddle with the flimsy string at your collarbone that you tied to connect the fabric across your chest, and then you realize. “Oh…maybe I need to–” you tug at the end of the string, “undo this? That might make it looser?” You finally glance at the mirror to seek his approval of your suggestion.
His eyes meet yours, and when he sees what you’re referring to, his eyes widen. “But that would–”
“Just don’t look,” you say simply.
You two remain looking at one another in the mirror, and you see his chest heaving slightly through the tightening of his dress shirt against the expansion of his breathing. Like you’re asking the impossible of him.
“Or I’ll kill you,” you say.
He sighs, and his eyes flit down to your zipper again. You swear you feel his hand tremble slightly. “Alright.”
You pull on the end of the string, watching him in the mirror to make sure his eyes don’t wander, and the fabric covering your breasts falls open, but you use a hand to still sparsely cover your skin with the cloth where you can. In the reflection, you see his jaw clench but his eyes remain on the zipper, and only briefly flicker to the bed once. Then he’s zipping up your dress with ease. 
You quickly tie the string above your chest once more to cover yourself up, and then spin to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress and throwing your hair back over your shoulder. It was a snug fit, but at least it still fit. 
He’s a step behind you with his hands shoved in his suit pockets, looking at your face with a slight tilt to his head like he’s studying you in the mirror just as much as you’re studying yourself. And then he pulls his hand out of his pocket to glance at his watch again. “It’s almost noon,” he says. 
“What?!” you bark at him. “We’re fucking late!!! Why didn’t you say anything?!?!”
“Huh??” he baffles. “I’ve been trying to tell you we need to rush this entire time.”
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you say, pacing your room to find your things in a scurry, picking your purse up and then grabbing your Manila folder of paperwork from your desk, and you try to walk past him to the door when you trip over the five pairs of shoes that you had been trying on earlier, almost twisting your ankle, and you gasp then grab onto his suit jacket for purchase before his arm attempts to reach out to hold you upright but to no avail since you tug on him as you fall straight backwards onto your bed and bring him down with you. 
His hands sink into the soft mattress on both sides of your head, wrists tickled by your hair, as he hovers over you, and your fingers quickly curl into little balls at your chest as you shrink underneath him, looking up at his surprised expression, likely from having to suddenly brace himself from falling right on top of you.
You both look at each other, blinking as you come down from the sudden chaos, and his tie that’s hanging from his neck brushes against your knuckle and falls over your hand to graze the skin above your breasts. His eyes briefly flicker to the sight, and he catches himself only to stare at your lips instead.
Even through thick layers of fabric, you can see the thick curves of the muscles in his arms, pulled taut from how he’s holding himself up over you. And for once, you wish the buttons of his shirt were undone, so you can see what he’s hiding underneath. The hair he had swept up above his eyes now falls freely with gravity, soft tufts that dangle above you and shadow over the blue of his eyes as he looks at you with a furrowed brow that–...that makes him look handsome. 
You must be ovulating.
No, wait, you finished ovulating a couple days ago.
Oh god.
Was your next door neighbor hot this entire time?
There was simply no way. 
You refuse to believe it.
You’re laying still like a deer in highlights, motionless underneath him, before he curls his arm around your waist to bring you up with him as he stands up straight, and you only spend a moment pressed up against him before you get yourself out of his grasp by pushing flat palms against his chest, and then the two of you are in proper distance from one another once again.
“D-Don’t ever do something like that ever again,” you stutter, shimmying your hips slightly to pull the snug fabric down your waist from where it had risen up.
“I didn’t do anything,” he grumbles, and he runs a hand through his hair. Now it looks like it always does, no longer prim in style.
“Whatever, let’s just go.” You slip your feet into one of the pairs of heels sprawled across on the floor, and then you head straight for the door. “You drive.”
You hear him sigh behind you. “Yes ma’am.”
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
The courthouse is bustling with people when you two arrive but Gojo’s pleasantly able to pull into an open curbside parking spot right in front of the entrance. You’re surprised when he comes around to the passenger side to open the door for you, and you swat his hand away when he offers it to you too, but you probably should’ve taken it, since you almost twist your ankle for the second time today as you step out onto the curb and get used to walking in heels again like a newborn fawn.
“Should’ve taken my hand,” he says to you, smile turned upwards into a smirk as he watches you struggle while he’s a few steps ahead of you.
“Give it to me then,” you grit through your teeth as you wobble, giving up your pride to avoid adding yet another medical bill to the list of debts in your name.
“Nah,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, “too late. Lost your chance.” You curse his entire lineage in your head.
You two make it inside the courtroom, and the first person you look for is Hana, whose head you catch at the front row much to your pleasant surprise since she is your sole witness to sign on the marriage certificate today. But in your study of the room to find her, you notice that there are a lot of other people in here as well.
“Don’t tell me…Did you invite people??” you ask Gojo, grabbing onto his sleeve to get his attention and also for balance, but he doesn’t need to know that latter part.
He glances down at you. “No? Why would I invite people to my fake wedding?”
Your eyes peruse the room once again, and you realize that most of them are just old retired people with nothing better to do on a Sunday than visit the courtroom. Some are elderly couples, eyeing you and Gojo as you two make your way down the aisle with sweetness in their eyes like awwwwwww to be a young couple in love once more <3 while they wait for the judge to call on their hundreds of unpaid parking tickets because they don’t know how to access an internet portal.
“D-Do you have the marriage license?” you squeak out to Gojo, who has now adjusted his walking speed to match yours.
“No, I left it at home,” he tells you in a flat tone. “Of course I brought the marriage license.”
“I was just checking, jeez…” you grumble.
Gojo hands the clerk the folder he was holding in his hand, and you hand in yours too.
Oh god. Your peripheral vision already recognizes him before your brain can, but you see an extremely familiar silhouette standing guard off to the side of the Judge’s bench, and your gaze immediately snaps in that direction.
Choso stands there, in his Sheriff Deputy’s uniform, his thumbs tucked into his vest as he puffs his chest out in assertion of his oh so important duty securing the courthouse on a Summer Sunday from any devastating danger, such as an elderly man not wanting to pay a parking ticket and then proceeding to charge towards the judge at 2 MPH, and you can’t help but roll your eyes from his attitude and scowl at him. Of course he pulled some strings and saw when you were getting allegedly married and decided to show up on that exact day. Whatever. You’ll pay him no mind. As long as he doesn’t speak now.
You and Gojo walk back to the lower desk in front of the Judge’s Bench.
“Ah! y/n, hello my dear, how are you?” the judge calls out to you.
“Hi Judge Jun,” you say meekly with a small wave, your voice echoing in the room, “good, and yourself?”
6/4/2024 1232: Judge Jun is a 72 y/o man with a past medical history of hypertension, hypercholesterolemia, hyperglycemia, GERD, liver cirrhosis and COPD, who endorses a social history of frequent tobacco usage and occasional alcohol consumption. Patient presents to the ED with chief complaint of chest pain, onset two hours ago after he drank three bottles of beer, and—
“Much better since you took care of me last week!” he humphs, patting his stomach.
You snap out of your automatic charting that was droning on in your head on reflex from how many times Judge Jun has shown up to the ED for acute chest pain which almost always ends up just being beer-induced GERD.
“At the hospital!” you clarify, “for taking care of you at the hospital!”
The man laughs heartily from where he sits up at the raised platform bench. “Yes! And Mr. Gojo! Nice to see you as well.”
You flit your eyes to Gojo, like you know him too? He only briefly spares you a sidewards glance before looking back at Judge Jun. “Likewise, sir.”
You postulate he scammed the fuck out of the man into signing a forty-year lease on a condo in the shady part of town, and you’ll leave it at that.
“I have to say, I am a little shocked by this matrimonial partnership!” Judge Jun chimes in. “But do you both swear to enter this marriage under just circumstances? I will need verbal affirmation from you both.”
Gojo raises his hand up in the air to swear on it, and you remember that he’s possibly done this before. Y’know how people have a courtroom wedding before a real wedding, something like that. And maybe that’s why he knows to raise his hand, because you didn’t even know you were supposed to raise your hand until now.
A real wedding. Something you’ve pictured a lot in your head, and so much more different than the arrangement you find yourself in right now. And because the pain of imagining yourself tying the knot with someone is too much right now, especially when the man you thought you were going to marry stands in uniform five feet away from you and probably doesn’t even recognize the dress you’re wearing right now, you glance over to Gojo and you try to imagine what a real wedding would’ve been like for him. Since he’s done it before.
He probably had a tacky wedding, like in a barn with barrels of beer used as tables with barely flickering string lights hung across wooden planks high on a triangular ceiling. The reception and the ceremony likely happened under the same roof, because he seems like the minimalist type, more focused on the feelings behind it and all, and not the grandeur.
Or maybe he was into the grandeur. Maybe he had a wedding on a skyline penthouse in the city, wearing expensive cologne like the one he’s wearing now, and a Dior suit he got custom made because it was a once in a lifetime occasion so why not? The image becomes a little too vivid in your head now, where you can picture this woman he’s marrying too. Pretty, tall just like him, wearing a ball gown white dress. He would’ve told her she looked beautiful, too. He would’ve told her he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. Vows uttered shakingly into the microphone at an altar while the sun is setting far into the sky, shimmering off of high building windows until the air is golden and it reflects off of his and his soon-to-be wife’s face. And when they’ve professed their love for one another, he grabs her by the waist and dips her in a kiss, for the perfect picture against the perfect backdrop in front of all the perfect little people because there probably was a photographer at that event, wanting to capture the moment.
You snap out of the dazed moment when a loud voice calls out your name, and in a shock, you glance back up at Judge Jun who’s looking at you with slight irritation.
“Huh?” you squeak out, and then turn to look at Gojo, who’s got a look of mild concern on his face as he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Please swear that this marriage is under just circumstances,” Judge Jun states with a cadence that indicates he’s commanded this of you multiple times already.
“Oh!” you stand up straight, “I—…I’m sorry.” You hold your hand up. “Yes, I swear this marriage is under just circumstances.” Just like Higurama had you practice. He’d be proud. Phew, the hard part was over.
The rest of the ceremony goes by in a rather fast blur, and it’s a little awkward when you both have to tell Judge Jun that you don’t have any vows to exchange at the moment when he offers the time for them, but Gojo comes up with some lie about how the real vows will be at our formal ceremony, and Judge Jun seems entirely satisfied and a little too ecstatic by the answer before allowing you two and Hana to sign the marriage certificate.
“And rings?” Judge Jun asks as he peers down through his glasses to the paper he was holding at his desk. “We can now make time for the exchange of rings.”
You’re prepared for Gojo to come up with another lie about how the real rings will be at our formal ceremony, but you see him shuffling with something in his pocket in your periphery. Hm? You glance down at his hip, and you see him pull something shiny out.
He turns to face you, and he holds his hand out to you with an up-facing palm. You blink at him and then glance down at his hand. And then you look up and blink at him, and then glance down his hand. And then you look up and blink at him, and then gl—
“Give me your hand,” he says to you, a little hushed and rushed.
“Why???” you ask, baffled.
“So I can put a ring on your finger?” he says, like it’s the most casual thing. Like getting a ring slipped onto your fourth finger is the most casual Sunday for you, when it’s something you’ve dreamt of your whole entire life.
You finally take a long hard look at the ring he’s holding in his right hand. It shimmers with every glint of light in the courtroom off of every angle, no doubtedly precisely cut diamond from a jeweler who really cares about their craft, and you swear you’ve saved a similar looking ring to one of your Pinterest wedding boards before.
You hesitantly bring your hand up and hover it over his.
“Your left hand, silly,” he tells you.
“Oh, right,” you say, and hand him your left one instead.
He holds it in his hand that is much warmer than yours, and it’s so tender, the way he gently slips the ring onto your finger. It fits with ease, perfection actually, and you can’t help raising your hand up in the air, spreading your fingers weakly as you admire the stone now sitting above your knuckle. It’s pretty.
You feel Gojo’s eyes on you, as he’s halted in frame, and you glance past your hand to look at his face. You dislike him. You do. You should. He’s your annoying as fuck next-door-neighbor. So then why does your heart feel like it could burst right now?
A glimmer of silver catches your eye, and you look down at his hands as he slips a silver ring onto his left hand while facing you before he turns to face the front again, signaling the end of the ring exchange, except you didn’t get to put it on his hand. He didn’t give you the chance.
“Alright! Wonderful!” Judge Jun exclaims, whose eyesight is probably too poor to have seen that it wasn’t even a proper ring exchange. “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”
There is scattered applause across the courtroom, a few cheers as well, as you two stand in front of the court of law in holy matrimony.
Judge Jun glances at Gojo. “Well, young man, you may now kiss the bride!”
“Oh—…that—” you stutter, “that’s not necessa—”
“Okay,” Gojo says, more to affirm Judge Jun than in acknowledgement of your protest, and in a series of what feels like just one motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you two him and then he—
He kisses you.
He kisses you like it’s real, like there’s history, like it’s a pure thing meant to last and not something you quite literally put a time stamp on. The kiss muffles the small sound that comes from your throat, your hands held up in the air in some slight surrender before they slowly settle on his shoulders as he bends you backwards over his forearm to deepen the kiss and the cheers surrounding you grow with a fervor that has your cheeks burning red but for some reason you don’t want it to end—
And then he pulls away from you, eyes darting across the features of your face in close proximity as he exhales slowly, like a release, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in this room before he glances at your lips one last time and then he releases his hold on you. You stand shocked, and briefly glance at Choso, who looks like he’s about to burst a fuse off the top of his head.
What.
What.
What?
And just like that, you were married to your insufferable next-door neighbor.
.
.
.
[end of chapter 2]
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a/n. thank youuu soooo so much for reading this chapter of ihm!! i’m kinda liking the writing style i’ve adopted for this series, it’s kinda lax n lenient sort of like a stream of consciousness and i hope it doesn’t come of too crass of informal lol i’m just playing around w some writing styles rn. ANYWHO i hope you enjoyed!! btw i picture choso as long-hair choso in any modern au (and not pigtails choso) so if you see me describing his hair in the way that i do, that’s why lol. love you all so much, hope to see you in the next one <3
➸ you're all caught up!
note: please do not ask me for updates (read rules)
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meme of the chapter:
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silken-moonlight · 1 day
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Adult Entertainment Werewolf BF Part 2
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A/N: I am so angry. Tumblr deleted the draft of my seventh Part of my Older human Alpha x Waitress series. I wanted to make this longer but now have to rewrite it...
However: I love writing this and will continue after doing the seventh part. It may be a lil fast here but...its okay (hopefully). I named him Orion and I hope you'll love him.
Also Part One you'll find here
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You tried not to look at your phone every five seconds. However, it was hard; you were so....excited about what he had promised you.
Suddenly, your phone beeped:
Orion: Hey there. Hope you had a nice day. I'm in my hotel room right now and have ordered some food.
You: Hi! My day was good. How about yours? I hope your dinner was tasty.
Orion: Yes, it was quite nice, actually. Have you been thinking about me? I bet you did.
You: Someone is confident about themselves. XD
Orion: Oh, come on, I'm a hottie, aren't I?
You: Maybe.
Orion: Wait until you see the content people pay for. You'll love it.
You: Let me be the judge of that!
Orion: Eager. Your account name, pretty please?
You: MorningSun23
Orion: How original... Okay, give me five minutes.
Orion: Okay, you should now be free to watch my paid content.
You: It actually worked. Thank you. Also, do you want to meet up tomorrow? I have the day off until next week.
Orion: Gladly, let's meet in the City and have breakfast together.
You: Sounds like a perfect idea.
Orion: See you tomorrow then. Enjoy your night.
As soon as you two stooped texting, you went onto the Internet to watch the content people normally paid for. Good thing was that you were in bed, so you didn't need to move much. You took out a vibrating toy from your nightstand, placed it on your clit and scrolled through all the content available.
And gods, was there a lot of it. This man was kinky and open minded. In one video he rutted his pillow until he came, in another he unboxed and tried out buttplugs, there were chastity cages, vibrating cockrings, self-bondage, roleplays where he played sometimes dom sometimes sub...Your new favourite was the one where he milked his cock with a maschine. His cock and his knot were impressive, big and perfectly curled...you whimpered at the sight.
Orion even did regular streams where his followers could control toys he had on or in himself with donations...there were even stream highlights...
It is safe to say you had a short but pleasurable night.
-The next day-
You were nervous. You stood up earlier, showered, and put on your favorite outfit. Your makeup was impeccable. Everything was good.
But your bus didn't come on time, and you were late. Half an hour too late, you arrived at the café, near tears. Orion, however, was in the best of spirits. "Hey there! Finally, I was getting lonely," he joked, and you sat down across from him.
"I am so sorry again," you apologized, but he smiled and answered, "No worries. Let's order; I am starving." You looked at the menu, and you both ordered a hearty breakfast.
He grinned at you. "Aaaand?" Orion asked, putting away the card. "What do you think? I know I may be annoying, but no one talks to me about what I do..." You gave him a soft smile. "Don't worry, your content is...so hot," you admitted. His openness made it easier for you to talk about it.
"Really? I am so glad you like it. What your favourite vid?" He asks and gives you such puppy eyes. You smiled:"I think the Video where you did the roleplay of chasing and breeding." His eyes widened and he grinned harder:"Always the quiet ones, you are kinky....I love that." You laughed and gave him a cheeky smile:"You have no Idea, Orion." You purred. You saw him visibly shiver. "Your boyfriend is so lucky."
"I don't have one," you reply as your food arrives. "Girlfriend, then?" You shake your head. "Hookup? Friend with benefits?" "No and nope," you answer. "I've been single since Alek." His eyebrows raise quickly. "Damn, he really broke your heart..." You nod. "He did....And how about you?"
Orion scoffed:"As if anyone would date a porn star. All three partners I had, broke up soon." You were astounded:"Really? Like I would have no Problem with that." Orion smiled sadly:"Yeah, they got jealous of either my followers or success." You frowned:"Why? You don't sleep with your followers....and a the success thing I understand even less...Like shouldn't they be happy?" His eyes found yours:" You're such a sweetheart."
You blushed and bit into your pancake instead of answering. Some caramel sauce ran down the corner of your mouth. Orion quickly leaned forward and wiped it off. You licked it off his thumb. His eyes met yours and he gave you a mischievous smile. "Does it taste good?" You decided to play along and ignore the heat that built between your legs. "Divine. So...thick with a hint of salty."
He groaned and shifted in his seat:"Dirty girl..." You both errupted in laughter. It took a moment for you to calm down. You continued to eat and talk. It was loveley, it was wholesome and so open. Orion insisted on paying for the breakfast, not taking any complaints from you. You two decided to take a stroll through the City and get a dress together for you.
"What's the wedding theme?" you asked as you looked through the dresses. "Something along the lines of casual, floral, and blue. I wanted to wear a black suit but wasn't allowed, so now I've opted for a light blue one. It looks a little like I want to sell you a vacuum cleaner." You giggled and answered, "I can't wait to see you in it, silly." You teased, and he actually blushed. Quickly, he hid it with a chuckle and asked why it was so warm in here.
You found a few dresses and tried them on, giving him a little show. It was lovely to shop with him; he was patient and helped you look for clothes. Right now, you had the third dress on. It was just over your knee, almost to your ankles, with little blue flowers on it. It was casual, with just the right amount of modesty and elegance.
"What do we think?" You asked as you stepped out of the changing room. "That you have a beautiful Butt." You turned arournd to him and scolded him:"Orion! Be serious you lewd little Wolf..." you played being mad and he laughed. "Okay okay...do a spin for me please." You did that for him and he came over to look at the fabric. "I love it on you, what do you say?" "Its the one." You answer and you go to change to buy the dress.
When you were dressed again, the two of you walked to the register. Just when you took your card out, he had his ready and paid for the dress. You looked at him and said, "Stop buying me stuff..." He chuckled. "Oh, let me spoil you a little. Also, I make enough money." You blushed and smiled at him.
After that, the two of you couldn't really separate since you enjoyed being together too much. "Do you want to come over to my place?" you asked, and he nodded, carrying your bag for you. "That would be cool. We could do a movie marathon," he suggested. You were absolutely up for that: "Hell yes!" You were so excited that you wanted to immediately take the bus home. He stopped you since he was there with his car. The two of you walked to his car, a dark, larger car, and drove home.
There he suddenly grinned:"Did you have a pleasurable night?" He asked and look down at you. Suddelny you were very aware that he was a werewolf. "Stop that..." You hoped he couldn't smell hownwer you were down there...
The next few hours, you sat on the couch and watched movies. You both laughed and commented, made fun of characters, and had a great time. As the hours passed, you two crept closer until you were cuddled up together. "Can I say something?" he whispered into your ear. You looked up. "Sure." He suddenly reached out for your cheek and brushed over it. "I...think I've got the fastest and hardest crush on you I've ever developed..." You blushed deeply:"I...feel similar...feels so easy to talk to you and you are so fun to be around." He blushed:"So...what we gonna do now? Do...do we want to try dating?" He asked. "You are so forward." You said and giggled. This was fast, spending a day together and thinking about dating. But who the fuck Set wuch rules? So you wanted to try it. More than everything not working out couldn't happen...
"Let's try it out," you said, and he smiled. Immediately, he leaned forward and kissed you softly. "There. Now you're my girlfriend." You giggled, and you two went back to cuddling. It felt like he needed this—someone holding him and spending time with him.
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lady-buggerinton · 24 hours
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My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)
My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?
5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal
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Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.
This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)
He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!
I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)
Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.
And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.
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I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.
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Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.
Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.
Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.
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Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.
I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.
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It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.
We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)
4. Market Scene
ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.
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SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.
If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!
There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.
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I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.
"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.
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Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.
She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.
Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.
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When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!
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3. Candy Tent
Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!
Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.
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Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"
The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!
I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.
Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.
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He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.
Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.
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His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.
I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.
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Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.
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Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!
2. First kiss/Dream Sequence
Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.
This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?
The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.
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This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!
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then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!
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What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.
Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.
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THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.
This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!
Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.
1. Carriage Scene
Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.
And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.
How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.
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Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)
He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.
The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
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so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.
on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.
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Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....
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Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.
Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3
175 notes · View notes
byeoltoyuki · 3 days
Text
Criminal Love
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↳ Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader
❧ Genre : romance , smut, forced proximity, morally grey reader
❧ Words: +25k
❧ Warnings: violence, mention of knives, guns, smut
❧ Summary: Hyunjin was a good agent. At least, he thought he was. The moment he is ordered to work with a very unpredictable, dangerous you (who also happens to be his little crush), things change. At every step you test his patience, push his limits only to see how far he’s ready to go.
❧ A/N : Aaaaaand it's finally out! It took me longer than I expected to finish this piece. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it! Like and reblogs are appreciated, comments too ♥
❧ Taglist: @lostgirlinthewoodss , @rylea08 , @minimin1993 , @avokralaim , @cheekycountesschoi , @rockyhedgehog , @skzfelixlove , @hyundai432 , @hyunlvrs , @naoristerling
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“Did you hear? She got suspended. Again.”
Hyunjin was not eavesdropping. Not really. Not completely. It wasn’t even his fault in the first place if people weren’t being discrete and he just happened to be having his coffee right here. It wasn’t also his fault that the simple mention of suspension and again meant only one thing: you.
And that did get his attention. Without even realizing it, Hyunjin leant a little closer while sipping his coffee, wanting to hear more about their complaints.
“Again?” The second woman sighed and shook her head in disapproval. “It’s the second time this month alone! I really don’t understand how they allow her to work here.”
To that Hyunjin actually had an answer. Or at least half of it. The bosses could disagree with your behavior, your rudeness, your methods all they wanted – you were the only one who didn’t hesitate to dirty your hands, to infiltrate the darkest places and succeed. The results were staggering. No other agents managed to accomplish as much as you did in only two years. They hated you and admired you at the same time. And those women were no different. They could complain about you all they wanted, but they were simply jealous.
Yes, you were an incredible agent. Yes, your methods were questionable and a little bit bloody for Hyunjin’s liking (he shivered at the memory of you throwing a knife at another agent, grazing his ear, because he had offended you). But you were also a dangerous, cold beauty that they envied.
Jisung plopped beside Hyunjin with his own coffee in one hand. He observed his friend for a moment before smirking. “Why the long face? It’s only nine in the morning.”
Hyunjin ignored his comment, his attention was still on the women, straining to hear more about you. Unfortunately for him, they were done complaining. Or maybe they stopped because of the two men’s presence.
He sighed. “They’re talking about Y/N.”
Jisung snickers. “Of course they are.” He took a sip of his coffee, smiling knowingly into the cup. “And you’ve been eavesdropping because?”
Hyunjin shrugged, pretending that it was nothing. As if Jisung wasn’t already aware of why he was so interested. He took a sip of his own coffee, only to wince and realize that while he had been so concentrated on the conversation, his coffee got cold. What a lovely day, it couldn’t get worse.
“Because I thrive on gossips.” Hyunjin tried to make it sound like it was not a big deal. He wasn’t lying, not completely at least. He did enjoy office gossips; sometimes because the gossips were so ridiculous, he couldn’t understand how people could believe their words. Sometimes, because he would catch info he could use later.
“Yeah. It has nothing to do with our sweet and lovely Y/N.” Jisung mocked.
Hyunjin sighed in defeat. There was no use pretending with Jisung, despite his looks and his nonchalant attitude, he was incredibly observant and Hyunjin’s little (fat) crush on you didn’t go unnoticed. “Fine. I couldn’t help myself.”
Jisung’s grin stretched and he leaned closer, ready to either tease him till he would cry or be a good friend and end his misery. “See, not so hard! And since I’m an amazing friend, I will even help you. I know why they’re talking about Y/N.”
Hyunjin cocked a brow, taken off guard. But it made sense. The two of you were friends, Hyunjin just never guessed you would talk about your cases with him.
“Our little Y/N was hunting a criminal for the past week. Can’t remember his name even if I helped her to track him. He took a hostage, threatened the man’s life. What a bad idea, but he couldn’t know that, could he? She shot the victim in the leg to shock the dude. Worked marvelously. She got him.”
Was it anyone else, Hyunjin would have been surprised. But he wasn’t. The only thing that still surprised him was your creative ways at getting things done. Apparently, nothing could stop you. Not even someone’s else life was on the line.
“How did she even explain herself?” Hyunjin wondered out loud.
“That’s a good question.” Jisung admitted and shrugged, “She has her ways, I guess. She doesn’t tell me everything.”
“Sure about that?”
Jisung gave him a lazy smile. “By the way, boss wants to see you. Right now.”
Hyunjin groaned and quickly got back on his feet. “And you couldn’t tell me sooner?”
“Nope.” Jisung laughed, “Was enjoying the moment, you know.”
***
Hyunjin was not excited to see the boss. Not because he didn’t do his work and risked to get scolded, but more like every time he went to his office he could be sure to leave with some bad news. And that, he wished to avoid. He was tired and frustrated with his case. He had been working on the same case for the past few weeks and unfortunately, even with Jisung’s help, he couldn’t track the hacker that had been attacking big companies. The man or the woman was a ghost, leaving little clues to his or hers identity and it was slowly driving him crazy. 
Before he could even knock at the door, he heard voices. Especially one voice. Yours. And by the sound of it, he could easily guess that you were not pleased. Not to say pissed. He hesitated, hand frozen mid-air. Should he knock? Should he wait? But then, Namjoon wanted to see him and if you were already inside, he wondered if whatever the news was, you were supposed to hear it too. Curious, really. And unheard of.
Hyunjin took a deep breath and then pushed the door, deciding that with all the yelling, his knock would go unnoticed. Barely one foot in the office and Hyunjin halted, flinching as a vase flew straight to the wall beside him, shattering in pieces.
Well, you were in a mood.
Hyunjin was highly aware of your temper, heard stories about it, witnessed a few times too. It amazed him how you didn’t try to hide it. Some agents were just like you, anger eating them from inside, but they would do their best to hide their feelings just to avoid the troubles.
You didn’t and he had to admit that he found it a little hot. Maybe there was something wrong with him too.
He had been working for Namjoon for a little over five years and it was definitely a first for him to see someone show so much anger before him. Or was it directed at him? Which would be even odder. 
He cleared his throat and before he could utter a single word, your eyes found his. He froze, forgetting how to breathe for a second. There was so much fire, so much rage in your eyes, it was unsettling. Hyunjin wasn’t a coward, in fact, because of his pretty face people often underestimated him, when really, he was a great manipulator when needed and could fight for his life if required. But facing your fiery character and the anger in your eyes made his skin crawl and wish for the floor to swallow him whole. 
What a lovely creature. 
One last angry glare from you and then you huffed, crossed your arms over your chest and took a seat, ignoring his existence. 
Namjoon shook his head and sighed. Apparently, Hyunjin wasn’t the only tired one, the man looked like a ghost himself with dark circles under his eyes. “Come in, Hyunjin. Take a seat.” And then he looked at you again, pinning you with his stare, a silent communication going on. 
Whatever Namjoon had to say, you were part of it, now he was sure about it. He didn’t know how he felt about it. 
Hyunjin sat in the empty chair beside you, having a hard time not to look at you. He didn’t have many opportunities to be in your presence or even talk to you. No, you weren’t a kind of person who appreciated getting involved with others. Quite the opposite. Less you saw them and happier you were. And yet, despite this coldness, you were Jisung’s friend and Hyunjin couldn’t stop but wonder how Jisung managed to convince you that he was worth a shot. He was the opposite of you; lively, always friendly, spending half of his time cracking jokes. And yet, it worked. Unfortunately, Hyunjin never managed to get close to you which left him with no choice but admire you from afar. 
“I’ll make it short.” Namjoon started, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you, looking stern and at the same time, preparing for another storm to blow up his office. Namjoon was indeed very tired and wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit. “I need both of you to work together on a case. And before you protest,” He pointed at you, his scowl deepening as he noticed you clenching your fists, ready to jump and protest, “It’s not negotiable.”
“You got to be kidding me!” You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “You know I can’t work with him.” You pointed an accusing finger at Hyunjin as if he had personally offended you. Which he didn’t. Or at least, Hyunjin wasn’t aware.
“I’m not leaving you a choice, Y/N. Not this time.” Namjoon didn’t budge, his mind set. “Moreover, there’s no way you can succeed without his help.”
Hyunjin observed you in silence, his mind still trying to come to terms with the idea of working with you. He didn’t dislike the idea as much as you did, for obvious reasons. It was his chance to find out more about you, to solve a mystery he was so curious about. But it was obvious you didn’t share the sentiment; you were gritting your teeth, ready to snap.
“Is it a challenge?” You tried, hoping to avoid to work with Hyunjin.
Namjoon leaned on his elbows and looked straight into your eyes. “You can scream and kick all you want; I’m not changing my mind.” Then, he averted his gaze on Hyunjin. “I promise, she’ll come around.”
Hyunjin wasn’t so sure and you proved him right by mumbling a ‘like hell I will’. This was going to be an interesting experience.
“What’s the case?” Hyunjin asked, ignoring the thick tension in the room. He fought the urge to glance at you and instead gave his full attention to Namjoon.
“The two of you are going to fly to Hong Kong. I got you an invitation to a gallery opening party. You must attend it as a newly married.” Hyunjin blinked in confusion. When he was called into Namjoon’s office, he did not expect this turn of events.
“What do you know about Park Minjun?” Namjoon asked and eyed the two of you, his eyes lingering a little longer on you.
Hyunjin had a feeling he had heard the name before but couldn’t pinpoint from where. You, on the other hand, knew. You straightened up on your chair, all business. “He’s the CEO of PM Security. Worth billions if I remember correctly.”
Namjoon nodded. “We got a tip. Apparently he’s been selling weapons to dangerous people. Another deal is about to happen. I need you to find out what’s the deal about and find the names.” Namjoon finished, then with one final look at the two of you. “Any questions?”
“Yeah, “ You started and, without even looking at you, Hyunjin felt your murderous aura. “Can I punch you for this brilliant idea?”
Yeah. It’s gonna work out just fine.
***
You were still fuming at the idea of working with Hyunjin as the two of you stepped out of Namjoon’s office. Just because you couldn’t actually punch Namjoon as you desperately wished, you slammed the door behind you to make your point.
“Asshole.” You cursed under your breath, forgetting for a second that you were not alone in the hall and Hyunjin was still observing you. But for safety reason, he put some space between the two of you. He could tell you were craving violence and someone to blame for the outcome. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to get into a fight with his supposed partner for the next case.
Hyunjin watched you with crossed arms over his chest as you took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching your fists in hope to cool down. Impressive temper indeed. He wasn’t a violent person and wasn’t really attracted to violence but as he stared at you, from head to toe, he couldn’t deny that it suited you. You’re in deep shit, Hyunjin.
He thought about the mission, thought about pretending to be a couple and playing his part. Could he really play pretend? He did it a few times, of course. But with you? He wasn’t sure he would come out unscathed.
“We can make it work.” Hyunjin tried to convince you. Or maybe he was trying to convince himself with those words.
It didn’t convince you. You snapped your head towards him and assessed him. You knew who he was, not only because you had memorized every faces and names of people working here, but also because Jisung couldn’t shut up about him and about how amazing he was. He was a handsome man, that you could admit, as for being amazing, you weren’t convinced. The men working for Namjoon tended to be all the same; some with pretty faces and arrogant attitude. Not your cup of tea. And yet, even if it pained you to admit, Hyunjin looked different from them. Just by the way he was watching you, you could tell he wasn’t underestimating you just because you were a woman. No, he was also assessing you and wondering how it could work.
“It can’t be that bad.” He tried again, sounding a little bit more enthusiastic.
You finally moved from your spot and slowly approached him, watching him like a predator that you were. Hyunjin tensed. You grabbed him by his tie and pulled him closer to you. “You better watch out, Hwang or I might kill you in your sleep and make it look like an accident.”
Such a lovely creature, working with you surely would be fun.
***
Jisung was laughing so hard at the news, he fell from his chair. It didn’t stop him from laughing, quite the opposite. He held his stomach, unable to calm down. He had expected Namjoon to give Hyunjin shit for not having any break in his case. But it was so much better. Oh how he wished he could have witnessed the whole mess. Knowing you, Jisung had no problem imagining how delighted you were with the mission.
“Are you done?” Hyunjin groaned, palming his face.
It had been two hours since he found out about the mission. Two hours since your threat. Two hours since he couldn’t shake off the image of you pulling at his tie, threatening him so close to his lips. Yes, he wanted to find out more about you. Yes, he wanted to get close to you. But maybe he got more than he bargained for.
“Oh hell man, I’m having a blast.” Jisung cackled and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes. “You and Y/N? Working together? Pretending to be married?” Just from saying it again, he laughed and Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself; he kicked his shin. “Ouch!”
“You deserved it.” Hyunjin responded unapologetic.
“Can you blame me? You two are so different. I don’t know how Namjoon came up with this idea.” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “I know you’re going to try and make it work but Y/N…”
Hyunjin could only hope that your wish to succeed would be stronger than your aversion to working with him.
“She’s going to eat you alive.”
***
Hyunjin didn’t get even have a wink of sleep last night. Not this close to the departure for the mission. One week was what Namjoon gave the two of you to get your shit together and prepare.
Easy to say.
Hyunjin tried to reach out to you in hope to talk and prepare your story in case you had to share it with people, especially about your marriage. You ignored all his attempts. He had tried. He tried to talk to you, to get to you through Jisung, tried to corner you. And failed. You were slowly driving him nuts and even his optimism was slowly fading.
He was waiting for you at the airport, nervous. After ignoring him for a week, you finally texted him last night, giving the time and spot to meet at the airport. A message that frustrated him to no end.
He checked his watch and frowned. You were running late. Maybe the traffic or maybe you were toying with him. Probably the latter. But then, as he raised his head, he saw you. He spotted you among the parting crowd, walking confidently and looking too good to be real. You wore white jeans, a black tank top with a leather jacket. Your hairs were tied up in a messy bun with few strands framing your flawless face.
Hyunjin forgot how to breath as you drew nearer.
“Hello, Hwang.” You smiled wickedly, your smile promising torture.
“You’re late.” Hyunjin wanted to slap himself. He wasn’t planning to pick a fight with you, but somehow his brain refused to cooperate.
You arched a brow, amused. “Am I?” And took another step towards him. “Or were you just too eager to see me?”
Yes, you were definitely toying with him. He refused to play your game and instead he kept his face as neutral as possible. “You know I’m not happy about this mission either.” What a big liar he was.
“Sure about that?” You asked, unfazed with his attempt. “Because a little birdie told me you were delighted to find out we were paired for the mission.”
Hyunjin gawked at you, not believing his ears. “What? Who?”
Hyunjin knew way before you answered, who was behind those words but he needed to hear it.
“Your favorite hacker.”
Little shit. Han Jisung was a dead man. If he survives first.
You laughed at his pained face. Not a mocking laugh but a genuine one that made him blink and stare blankly at you. Hyunjin realized that he had never heard you laugh before and it was a nice melody to his ears. Playful, cheerful, warm.
“Come on, hubby.” You looped your arm through his, “Let’s do this.”
***
Surprisingly enough, the flight to Hong Kong was eventless.
Except for the part where you didn’t shut him out like he thought you would. No, after a whole week of trying to talk to you and plan, it was during the flight that you chose to talk. You took him completely off guard by admitting that he was right and you needed a story in case someone ask. The two of you established that you had been married for three months and had been together for two years. 
Hyunjin was bewildered how easy it was to talk to you when you weren’t threatening to kill him in his sleep. The moment you got your mind set on the mission, your feelings and opinions didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was to succeed and if for that you had to deal with him, you would do your best.
A very nice surprise.
Namjoon had thought about every little details that even Hyunjin hadn’t thought about. For instance, not even for a second Hyunjin had imagined that the two of you would have to share a room. It made sense, in a way, but it still shocked him. He was not ready for it. 
Hyunjin glanced at you, palms sweaty. He thought you would start a riot and curse Namjoon and his whole family. You did none of that. In fact, you looked completely relaxed. You pushed your suitcase toward the middle of the room and then stopped to observe the place. The room was big, huge windows that led to a small private balcony. A king size bed covered with petals of red roses and a couch that looked rather uncomfortable.  
You scoffed at the flowers, finding this little detail ridiculous. And so did Hyunjin. “He didn’t need to go to this extent.” But you didn’t seem surprised too which made him wonder how many times Namjoon had arranged things for you. 
Hyunjin followed you with his own suitcase. If there was only one bed and one couch, he would choose the couch, even if it didn’t look comfortable. He didn’t think you would accept to share a bed and he wasn’t sure he could sleep beside you at all. Not that he was scared for his life but sleeping with his crush did make him nervous. 
“Dibs on the right side of the bed.” You interrupted his trail of thoughts and threw yourself on your side of bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched Hyunjin with a smirk. 
Hyunjin gasped loudly and looked at you as if you had grown a second head. “Wait what?” 
You watched him from the bed, looking too smug for his liking. “What? Were you about to offer to sleep on the couch?” 
Hyunjin wondered if he was that predictable or if you were just that good at reading people. For a second, he considered lying to avoid embarrassment but one look at you and he knew it was pointless. He shrugged. “Yes.” 
“Don’t bother. I don’t care.” 
“Sure about that?” 
“Unless you’re a hugger, no, I don’t care.”
***
While you were taking a long, deserved shower, Hyunjin went through the few information Namjoon gave you about Park Minjun. Nothing really impressive; his family, about his wife, his kids, about his involvement with many powerful men in the society. Nothing really indicated that he had any involvement with the underground world. But then again, Hyunjin guessed that it wouldn’t be something obvious and they had to dig deeper.
Hyunjin threw his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes for a moment. The party, the CEO, pretend to be a married, happy man, you. It kept replaying in his mind. There were few hours left before the party and he couldn’t stop wondering how it would work out. How should they get close to the man and gather the needed proofs?
Before Hyunjin could delve more on the matter, you came out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around your body, water still dripping from your hair. Hyunjin opened his eyes only to gulp nervously at the sight of you. No make-up, amazing, toned body – he was both in hell and heaven. His pants grew tighter.
Instead of hiding from his intense gaze, you stopped by the bed, staring back. “Need a moment, Hwang?”
Yes. He cleared his throat and tried not to look at your legs. He knew, he shouldn’t be staring so much, but you looked just so flawless, he couldn’t tear his eyes from you.
“Still staring, darling.” You teased
Hyunjin squirmed under your amused stare. “I’m-“ sorry he wanted to say. But you didn’t want to hear his apology. No. Instead, you winked at him and then turned your back, letting him admire the view. You knew you looked good. You dropped your towel on the floor.
Hyunjin shrieked and quickly covered his eyes with his hands. You were toying with him, enjoying your moment judging by your sweet laugh.
“Cute.” He heard you whisper.
For a second, he peaked through his fingers, hoping you put some clothes on. But no. Still perfectly naked and with a glorious ass.
Shit.
“You’re enjoying this.” Hyunjin complained through gritted teeth.
You hummed, not disagreeing. You drew closer to the bed, enjoying how tensed Hyunjin got. How he desperately was trying to hide his eyes with his hands. Sadly for him, his body betrayed him. You smiled sweetly at him. “Just as much as you’re enjoying the view.” And you pointed at his pants, cackling at his pained face.
I need a shower. And a cold one.
***
Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin was ready for the party way before you. Instead of waiting for you in the room, he chose to wait in the main hall of the hotel, taking a moment to compose himself and repeat the made-up story in his head. Everything to distract him from the thought of you, naked with water dripping from your hair. He tried to shake off the image, but his mind refused to cooperate and replayed the moment over and over again like a broken record. This was torture and there was nothing he could do to escape.
“There you are, darling.” Your sweet voice echoed from behind him.
Hyunjin, very slowly, turned to face you. He sucked in his breath, taking in the sight of you. Obviously and objectively speaking, he knew you were a gorgeous woman, but tonight you had outdone yourself. The red silky dress hugged all your curves perfectly, the deep split on the left side exposed your thigh. Everything was flawless; from your dress to your hair, to your makeup – he was bewitched.
Hyunjin stared and stared, his eyes shining brightly. “You look dashing.”
You flipped your hair to make a point. “I know.”
He laughed and shook his head in fondness. Of course, you would say something like that. But then, your lips stretched into a big, genuine smile. “You look good too, hubby.” You stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand. “Let’s do it.”
***
The venue was huge and smelled of money. Impressive paintings, tables spread all around the place with food and drinks. Waiter and waitress walking around with drinks, trying not to disturb the important people. Everything was shining and glittering. A place, Hyunjin didn’t feel like he belonged to. Celebrities, politicians, the whole society had gathered at the same place. He wasn’t used to it, and he felt out of place.
You noticed it too. You nudged him playfully with your hips, grabbed his hand and squeeze it lightly. “Relax. Pretend you have loads of money and you will be just fine.”
Hyunjin glanced at you. It amazed him how natural you were. Nothing surprised you, nothing impressed you. No, you looked at the crowd, unimpressed, assessing them in silence. He bet, slowly a plan was forming in your mind. You grabbed two glasses of champagne from the closest waiter, thanking him with a smile before giving one glass to Hyunjin.
“Look,” you pointed at a person talking vividly with a man. “Park Minjun is already here. The man he’s talking to? He’s in charge of research for the army. Heard the army is developing a new weapon.”
Impressive. Hyunjin eyed the man; he looked to him like any other middle aged man in this room. Rich, wearing an expensive suit, arrogant, trying to make any more alliances.
“How do you know all that?” Hyunjin asked, admiring your knowledge.
You shrugged, your eyes still on the CEO. “I’ve been spying on them for so long. It helps.”
“Do you think Park Minjun is interested in what the army is developing?”
“Who knows.”
Hyunjin was tempted to ask more, to see what else you were hiding from him. He did none of that as he noticed some men staring at you. He recognized the look in their eyes: lust. He couldn’t blame them for lusting after his fake wife, you looked gorgeous and your dress was attracting attention. His body, as if having a mind of its own, moved; he put a hand on your hip, marking his territory. They could stare all they wanted, you were his for at least the upcoming days.
You didn’t shy away from his touch, quite the opposite. You leaned into his touch, feeling completely comfortable with his presence and his touch.
“Well, what’s a lovely surprise.” A man around Hyunjin’s age, or maybe a little older now that he looked at him, interrupted the two of you. He smiled widely, his eyes on you and then slowly his gaze slid to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin had to admit, the man before him was probably the only decent one in the place. Or at least, the vibe around him made Hyunjin believe that. He was terribly handsome and looked just as rich as any other person in this gallery and yet, where others looked arrogant and judgy, he looked genuinely friendly and apparently delighted to see you.
And yet, your whole body tensed at his presence. You leaned even closer to Hyunjin as if he could protect you from the man or help you to disappear. It made Hyunjin only curious. Where was the confident woman? The one ready to snap some necks and kick some asses? Odd.  
“Hello Chris.” You finally found your voice and straightened your back, a sly smile on your face.
There she is.
If Chris noticed your uneasiness, he made no comment. Instead, he grabbed your hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing your knuckles, eyes on you. “It has been a while.”
“I’m a busy woman.” You chuckled.
“Don’t I know that.”
Hyunjin knew he wasn’t supposed to feel possessive over you but he couldn’t ignore the little, angry voice inside his head, telling him to yank you from this Chris’s hold. Fake husband or not, he wanted to keep you for himself while he could.
“This is Hyunjin, my husband.” You finished.
And just like that he relaxed.  He eyed you discretely, feeling proud, even if it was fake.
Chris arched a brow at the presentation. “Oh? Since when?” He eyed Hyunjin, assessing him. Despite his intense staring, Hyunjin kept his composure and stared back with as much intensity and still wondering who the hell this man was.
“I’m offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding. Or did my invitation got lost?”
You laughed heartily at his pained expression. “Don’t be sad. It was a small wedding.”
Chris put his hand over his heart feigning pain; you only slapped his arm playfully, leaving Hyunjin’s warmth for a moment.
“Fine, fine.” Chris conceded. “Knowing you, I expected a big fancy venue with at least hundred people.”
You only glanced at Hyunjin, your eyes softening at the sight of his face. Hyunjin almost dropped his glass, completely taken off guard with how sincere, how convincing you looked. He could read love on your face when he knew there was none.  
“I had everything I needed.” You said softly.
Chris gasped. “Who are you and what did you do to my snarky, little Y/N?”
You took a sip of your champagne and looked at him. “Don’t worry, she’s still here.” You leaned closer to him, your smile turning from gentle to wicked. “Ready to bite your head off for last time.”
Chris raised his hands in defeat and took a step back for good measure. Whoever he was to you, he knew about your character and tendencies. Hyunjin watched your interaction with even more curiosity.
“I apologized at least three times already. You can’t hold a grudge for so long, can you?” Chris complained.
You eyed him with a knowing look on your face, a silent message passing between you and him. “Fine, I forgive you. For good this time.”
“Thank you, love.” He joked, “Call me. I think we have a lot to talk about.”
Chris left the two of you and yet you kept your eyes on his back as he began talking with a group of people.
“Who was that?” Hyunjin finally asked.
“A friend.” You simply said without elaborating.
Hyunjin wanted to know more but from the corner of his eyes he saw the CEO moving. “He’s moving. Let’s go?”
***
The two of you followed Park Minjun and three other men as discretely as you could manage. If the CEO seemed completely oblivious of his surrounding, the two men seemed more anxious; they kept glancing behind them, almost as if they were expecting someone to follow them or maybe even feared that they would get ambushed. Hyunjin supposed, in a way, they were right to be so wary since the two of you were indeed spying on them.
The noise from the main hall of the gallery was getting scarce until Hyunjin heard nothing except for their light steps.
“I think Namjoon was right. Minjun is involved with some questionable people.” You whispered as you watched the men get inside a room, closing the door behind them and locking it for good measure. “I recognize two of men with him. The third must be his bodyguard.”
Hyunjin looked at you with raised brows, surprised once more how it seemed you knew everything and everybody. He wondered again; what kind of missions Namjoon entrusted you with. “Who are they?”
Without looking at him, you neared the door. “They belong to the crows.”
Hyunjin’s whole body froze at the name. He had heard about them. The name had popped in many cases, but they never could find anything to dismantle the gang and arrest the leaders. It was frustrating how they always seemed to be few steps ahead of them.
“What are we doing now?” Hyunjin asked.
You looked at him, a wicked smile plastered on your face. “We eavesdrop of course!” You didn’t hesitate; body pressed against the closed door you strained your ears to hear their conversation.
Hyunjin followed your lead. He stood close to you, his arm brushing yours. A good agent would keep his mind clear and concentrate on the mission. Hyunjin was not a good agent. He couldn’t help but notice how smooth your skin was. Your sweet scent. And the smile that never left your lips. Get a grip, Hyunjin!
“I expected your boss to show up.” Minjun’s rough voice could be heard from behind the door. He sounded displeased and annoyed.
“I’m his right hand and tonight I represent the crows.” The other man didn’t sound fazed with Minjun’s annoyance and yet Hyunjin could detect a hint of threat in his voice. “I’m sure it’s acceptable to you. Or maybe you should find another willing party. After all, we’re not the one in need, are we?” Now he was taunting the man.
You glanced at Hyunjin, exchanging a knowing look. Just few words but enough to prove that they didn’t come here for nothing. Few words to incriminate the man.
Minjun grumbled, displeased with the man’s attitude. “Fine. Where is it?”
Whatever the ‘it’ was, you couldn’t hear the rest of it. Steps echoed in the hall, alerting the two of you that you were no longer safe and had little time to no time at all to hide. Hyunjin’s heart leapt in his throat as he tried to find a solution, a way out. But you. You didn’t panic, you barely looked at him. Instead, you straightened your back and slid your hand under your dress and took a knife out.
“What the hell.” Hyunjin muttered to himself, eyes bulging at the sight of the knife. “We’re not fighting.”
You scoffed and stepped before him, ignoring his remark. Hyunjin wasn’t a fighter, but you were and right now you were itching to fight the intruder.
At the sound of steps growing louder, closer; his body moved on its own accord. He pushed you against the closest wall, trapping you with his body. He cupped the side of your face, his thumb rubbing a spot on your cheek.
Your sweet scent hit him like a truck. All he wanted in the first place was just to pretend, to make it look like the two of you were making out in the hall, to make the intruder feel out of place. But your fucking addicting scent drove him absolutely crazy. His eyes kept darting back and forth between your eyes, another kind of fire glowing in them, and your plump, red lips that were slightly parted in surprise. God, how much he wanted to kiss you. To smear your perfect lipstick.
Pretend. Mission. Fake.  He repeated those words in his head, trying to persuade himself that this was more than enough.
It wasn’t.
“Do it, hubby.” You encouraged him after seeing him struggle to keep his control.
And Hyunjin did. His mouth crashed against yours. The kiss was bruising, needy, he had absolutely no control over his body, over his mouth. He wanted to taste every inch of you, to memorize how good you felt against him, how nice your lips felt against his.
His grip on your face tightened as you parted your pretty lips, inviting him in. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pushing his face even closer to you.
Hyunjin’s free hand slid slowly from your chest, to your stomach, to your left, exposed, thigh. He grabbed your leg with strength and wrap it around him, giving him more access to your body, to feel more of you. To let you feel just how affected he was. How hard he was with just one kiss. You moaned into the kiss as his fingers dug into your skin.
So. Damn. Addicting. Hyunjin forgot all about their problem, all about the steps that grew only louder. He heard nothing. Saw nothing. There was only you and your gentle moans, urging him to ravish you right on the spot.
“Hey!” A loud, croaky voice interrupted them. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re not allowed in there!”
Hyunjin’s deep growl made your grip on him only tighten. You didn’t care about the intruder, but you cared about those stupidly addictive lips.
“What the-“ The man halted not far from you.
Hyunjin, unwillingly, slowly dropped your leg and parted from you. He wiped the corner of his lips and winked playfully at you before facing the man. “Sorry. I wanted a moment with my wife. She’s just so beautiful, I can’t have enough. Can you blame me?”
The man contemplated the idea of telling Hyunjin once more that you weren’t supposed to be there but one look at you and your disheveled self and swollen lips – he hesitated.
He ruffled his hair in frustration. “Just leave.”
***
“What do you think is his business with the crows?” Hyunjin asked as you stepped inside your room.
“No clue. They’re dangerous and powerful. It can’t be good.” You commented.
Barely inside and you were already undressing, with still no consideration for Hyunjin. He froze right on the spot as he watched you unzip your dress and let it pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your high heels and panties. He gulped, unable to avert his eyes even if a little voice was screaming at him not to look. He couldn’t. Not when you looked absolutely breath taking with your smooth skin, legs to die for and your long hair falling over your exposed breasts.
Another time, Hyunjin would have managed to keep his head cool and look away. Now? Now he knew how your lips tasted and how your skin felt under his touch. He couldn’t think straight.
“You can’t keep doing that.” Hyunjin managed to complain, his trousers grew tighter.
“Doing what?” You batted your eyelashes, trying to look innocent but your proud smile betrayed your intentions.
“That!” He pointed at your body. “I’m a man and I’m trying to be respectful.”
“I see that. You’re staring. Respectfully.” You laughed and slowly approached him, your smile turning into a smirk, knowing you were playing with fire and testing his patience.
Hyunjin should have known from the beginning that you were a menace. Jisung was right, you would eat him alive and he would say thank you.
“Must be hard watching and not being able to touch.” You cooed at him and poked his chest.
“You’re a terrible human being.” He complained without meaning his words.
“Am I?”
Hyunjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Bad idea. Your sweet scent hit his nose, making him slowly lose his self-control. He couldn’t think about anything else, only you and your body too close to his. All he needed to do was take the last step towards you, grab your neck and kiss you.
Think about the mission, Hyunjin. You can’t do that. But did he listen to the little voice? Hell no.
“Play with me, hubby.” You whispered, pushing his last limit.
Hyunjin snapped.
Or more like his self-control snapped. He grabbed the back of your neck and claimed your mouth. He devoured your mouth, showing you no mercy. He bit on your lips and pulled your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss.
“You’re driving me nuts.” He groaned against your lips. “And I do not appreciate that.” He gave your hair a harsher tug, exposing the tender flesh of your neck. A perfect canvas for him. His lips slid from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, leaving pretty marks on his way, claiming you just the way he wanted.
“I’m glad.” You moaned as your hands found their way to his head, pushing him closer to you, wanting to feel more of him. “It won’t be fun otherwise.”
Hyunjin bit on your collarbone in response. He wanted to make you pay for testing his patience, for making him yield so easily. He wanted to hear you plead for more, to hear your scream his name and ask for more. It was his mission for the night and he refused to stop. He scooped you in his arms, taking you off guard – you yelped in surprise. He carried you to the bed and dropped you on the mattress.
The sight before him was his personal hell. Your pretty lips swollen, your hair spread around you, your nipples hard and begging for attention. A goddess waiting for someone to worship her and he was more than willing. But slowly. Despite his own needs and wish to jump on you, he took his time to memorize your body; every little scar, and you had many of them, every mole.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” You teased, resting on your elbows as you watched him, biting your lips.
Hyunjin chuckled at your attempt at provoking him. He unbuttoned his shirt, button by button, watching as your eyes followed his every move, watching as you licked your lips at the sight of his bare skin.
“Might do it later.” He admitted. After all, he wouldn’t mind to immortalize the moment.
Hyunjin threw his shirt somewhere on the floor before his hands found their way to your ankles. Gently, he stroked your ankles that were probably tired after a long night wearing heels. Without a warning, he pulled you to the edge of the bed, closer to him, a wicked smile on his face.
Slowly and without breaking the eye-contact, he dropped to his knees. He grabbed your panties and tugged down, exposing your pretty and already wet pussy. Whenever you had planned to get him on his knees or not, you were ready for him and he had to admit he enjoyed the sight before him.
“Tell me what you want, Y/N.” Hyunjin asked. His soft lips leaving a trail of kisses across your thigh, setting your skin on fire.
“Don’t be a tease.” You ordered and nudged him with your knee but Hyunjin was having none of that.
“Come on. Tell me. Is it my tongue you want?” And to make his point he licked your skin, from your knee to your thigh, getting dangerously close to the place you really wanted him. “Or is it my fingers?” Still teasing, he barely brushed his fingers against your pussy, making you hiss in frustration.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You threatened him, refusing to give him the power over you.
Hyunjin only laughed against your skin and bit your thigh playfully, your threat doing nothing except turning him on.
“Come on, Y/N. it’s not that hard.”
Your ego demanded that you kept your mouth shut, but your body was on fire and on edge and growing impatient. You needed him to touch you.
Your body won the war. “Please, Hyunjin. I really, really need you.” You begged as prettily as you could.
And how could he refuse when asked so nicely? Hyunjin delved in, eagerly, letting the taste of you consume him. There was no stopping, not when you sweet taste invaded all his senses and turned him into an addict.
“Fuck.” You cried out and arched your back.
Hyunjin devoured you, licking, sucking, knowing exactly what you needed. It was as if he already knew how your body worked, what made you curl your toes, what brought out your sweet cries.
One particular strong suck had you reach out for his head, tugging at his locks. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to bring him closer to your pussy or put some space – it didn’t stop him. Hyunjin’s gaze met yours, eyes shining with mischief.
He kept his mouth on you and slid two fingers inside you, stretching you. Your every little cries made him suck only harder, pump his fingers faster until you were nothing but a mess, writhing and begging to come.
And you came hard in a silent scream, body trembling.
If you thought, Hyunjin would give you a minute to recover, you were wrong. He flipped you on your stomach, his hands slid from your shoulders, to your back, to your ass. Such a nice and beautiful ass. Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself from giving it a strong slap.
He hurried to unzip his pants, the urge to sink inside you getting unbearable. He nudged your pussy with his cock and you pushed back, whimpering, needing to feel him inside. Hyunjin, despite his own needs, still had some control left. Seeing you so wet, so desperate and lost to your own pleasure because of him pleased him.
“Hwang, I swear to god-“ You started but all words died on your tongue the moment Hyunjin buried himself deep inside you with one strong push. “Fuck!” You cried out.
The pain, the stretch, followed by pure bliss made you grab the sheets, holding for your dear life. You expected Hyunjin to take his sweet time, to make his thrusts slow and controlled.
You were wrong.
Maybe it was because of your pleas, maybe because of how nice and perfect your walls felt around him. Or maybe the little control left had finally snapped. He set a brutal rhythm. His grip on your hips strong, almost painful and that would leave, without a single doubt, marks. And you didn’t care.
“So. Damn. Perfect.” Hyunjin managed to say in between strong, deep thrusts.
Hyunjin leaned over you, slowing his thrusts for a moment, only to fist your hair and yank your head back. His warm breath caressed your neck. “This is payback for all the teasing, Y/N.” His voice sounded rough and ominous.
It should have been a warning and you would have given a damn any other time. But Hyunjin was good. Felt too good. Your mind was blank. You could barely remember your own name.
As Hyunjin forced you to arch against him, his fucking increased, reaching deeper, making you see stars. Mouth opened, tears in the corner of your eyes, there was no stopping. With one particularly strong push, he tipped you over the edge. Your orgasm tore through you, violent, powerful, toe-curling. For a second you couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. And Hyunjin kept going, seeking his own release.
Fingers digging into your skin, Hyunjin came with a loud groan, spilling himself inside you.
With his release came a realization. I’m fucked.
***
Hyunjin woke up with a feeling that something was off. He looked for his phone on the bedside table, only to see that it was three in the morning. He yawned and rolled on the other side, wanting to get closer to you and to your warmth. Only to find your side of the bed empty and cold. He straightened up on the bed, staring blankly at the empty spot. Slowly, he touched it, confirming that his mind hadn’t imagined it being cold. No, you had left the bed and apparently the room a long time ago.
Hyunjin didn’t know how he felt about it. Should he worry? Did you need space after what happened between the two of you? Or worse, did you regret it? Hyunjin refused to imagine the worst scenario, but he struggled. He considered, for a short moment, to get out of bed and start looking for you. What if something bad happened?
He heard the bip from the door and quickly lay down on the bed. He squinted, forcing his eyes to adapt to the darkness. 
You walked inside the room on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise, trying not to wake Hyunjin up. Too late for that, but he did his best pretending to be asleep. Hyunjin hoped you couldn’t see how he was peeking at you or how fast his breathing got.
You paid no attention to him as you got closer to the bed. You untied your hair and ruffled them in frustration. Whatever you were doing at this hour of the night, you didn’t look too happy about it. Slowly you took off your leather jacket and threw it on the chair and then, and it made Hyunjin fight a gasp, you pulled out your gun.
Where the hell were you? What were you doing? He wished he could just ask you these questions, but he wasn’t sure you would take it well. Not yet at least.
Hyunjin tried to calm his heart, to steady his breathing; you got closer to the bed and watched his sleeping form.
“Such a pretty boy.” You hummed, face relaxing at his sight. You gently brushed some strands of hair from his face and Hyunjin fought a shiver.
***
He woke up a second time but much later. He expected to see you sleeping beside him, after all, weren’t you supposed to be tired after going out in the middle of the night? Yet, he found once more your side of the bed empty. He groaned and quickly crawled out of bed. He had questions and for that he needed to find you.
Turns out, finding you wasn’t as hard as he expected. Maybe for a moment, he had forgotten that you were also human and needed to eat. Hyunjin found you at the restaurant, dressed in a pretty white dress that gave you an almost innocent look which unsettled him. But not only that; you were talking vividly, laughing and smiling with Park Minjun.
Hyunjin paused, staring blankly at you and the man. It amazed him how easily you talked with the man, how genuinely interested you looked. If he didn’t know about the mission, he would have believed you were long lost friends. It impressed him how easily you adapted to different situations, different people, letting them see and hear what they needed, what they wanted.
When you spotted Hyunjin, your whole face lit up. Hyunjin gulped, not liking how his heart reacted, not liking how your smile cheered his soul. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying the images of your kisses, of your touches, of your smooth skin against his, of your lovely voice. He didn’t regret his choice, but he was also aware that he was in deep shit.
Hyunjin took a deep breath and started walking toward your table, confident. A small smile crept across his face as your own widened.
“Oh, babe!” You called for him, pretending so well to be completely smitten with your husband. You welcomed him with a sweet smile and a kiss on his cheek (he swore his heart missed a beat). “Sorry, I was too hungry and you looked so sweet. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Voice sweet like honey, Hyunjin found himself at the loss of words. There was no way you left him without a word just because he looked sweet, but you were so damn convincing. He shook his head before chuckling. Two could play this game. He took a strand of your hair, curled it around his finger before bringing it to his lips. You sucked in a breath, your eyes locked on him.
“It’s fine.” Hyunjin leaned and pressed his lips against yours. As much as he wanted the moment to last, he couldn’t ignore any longer the man’s presence. “Hello, sir.”
The CEO eyed him from head to toe, nodded as if he liked what he saw. If only he knew. “You must be Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin pulled the chair and sat beside you. “The one and only.” He smiled at the man while his hand slipped to your thigh and rested there comfortably, loving the warmth of your skin under the palm of his hand.
Park Minjun smiled as he brought his cup to his mouth. “You have a fabulous wife. So passionate.”
Hyunjin looked at you, eyes softening. “I know. I’m a lucky man.”
Slowly, he rubbed circles on your thigh and you had to fight back a shiver. You could have stopped him, quite easily, but his touch was too addictive.
Minjun cleared his throat. “Y/N, it was lovely meeting you. But I believe I should leave the two of you alone. Enjoy your stay.”
The moment he was out of sight, you dropped your act. A long and tired sigh escaped your lips and you sank further into your seat. And yet, you still didn’t try to pry his hand off your thigh.
“Learnt anything?” Hyunjin asked, resting his head in the palm of his free hand.
“Nothing important. I thought charming him would serve me. Maybe not now, but later.”
Hyunjin hummed. You were right, it could be useful. “He looked charmed.”
You chuckled and poked his side playfully. “Why? Are you jealous, Hwang?”
Hyunjin could have stopped the little game, could have dropped his own act – he didn’t. He leaned closer, looking at you with a smirk. “Why should I be? I was the one making you scream my name. Not this old man.”
You gasped and feigned outrage. “My, my. Scandalous.”
“I know.”
“Now, that being said,” Your smile turned wicked. “I put a tracker on him.”
***
Jisung took his sweet time to answer the phone. It almost comforted Hyunjin to know that even with you, he acted this way. Except for the fact that you weren’t as patient as him. You groaned and threw your arms in the air, growing annoyed with every attempt at reaching for your friend.
“Hello my lovely, favorite couple ever!” Jisung’s cheerfulness brought a tiny smile to Hyunjin’s face, until he remembered that he wanted and needed to kick his ass. “How’s your honeymoon?”
“A lot of fucking. Something you can’t relate to because you’re forever bitchless.” You didn’t hesitate to humble him.
Hyunjin tried to stifle his laugh, only for you to glance at him with a frown, silently warning him.
Jisung gasped through the phone, offended. “Rude.” And for good measure, added, “Bitch.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Well,” Jisung began, “I know for sure that there is no way you fucked Hyunjin.” Jisung sounded so confident and yet none of you tried to correct him.
Hyunjin glanced at you but you ignored him, staring at your phone instead and looking tired. Finally, the consequences of your late night activities were showing. You needed to rest but something told him that a comment from him would earn him an even deeper frown.
At the silence, Jisung squealed. “Right?”
“I put a tracker on Minjun. I need you to tell me what he’s doing.” You said instead, refusing to satisfy his curiosity.
Hyunjin heard Jisung tapping on his computer, guessing he was already on it.
“I’m not done with you.” He warned the two of you. “He’s coming back home.”
Only then, you finally looked at Hyunjin, nodding. “Then so do we.”
***
Namjoon was in a bad mood. Hyunjin guessed it the moment he stepped inside his office. He kept tugging at his hair and muttering under his nose. Whatever was bothering him, meant probably no good to him too.
Hyunjin had been back for only few days which left him little time to check on his other cases, make a report about Park Minjun, meet with Jisung to know about the man’s whereabouts.
And you. You simply vanished. He should have known it would happen. He should have guessed that whatever happened between the two of you during your mission would end the moment you stepped out of the plane. It still left a bitter taste.
“I read you report.” Namjoon finally said.
“Did Y/N make her own report too?” Hyunjin wondered.
Namjoon quirked a brow at him. “She did.” He sighed. “The crows are bad news. I hoped you would be able to gather more information.”
“Y/N made contact with Park Minjun.. Maybe if we meet him again, she could gather more.”
Speaking of the devil, you barged into the office as if you owned the place. Namjoon barely reacted at your rudeness, obviously too used to your behavior. You dropped on the chair beside Hyunjin, refusing to acknowledge his presence which pissed him off more than he was willing to admit to himself.
“Weapons.” You announced, “Your tip was right. Minjun does sell weapons to dangerous people and now he’s going to sell them to the crows which sucks. They’re already powerful enough.”
Hyunjin almost jumped out of his seat and grabbed you to question you. He held back. Barely. “How did you find out?”
Instead of looking at him, you checked your nails, looking disinterested if not bored. “I don’t think you want to know.”
Hyunjin took a deep breath, counting till ten to calm himself down. If there was one thing, he disliked about you it was how easily you switched from being nice to the bitchy-old-self. It made him wonder if the side you showed him was real.
“What did you do?” Namjoon asked instead, sensing the tension in the room.
You sighed and slid your gaze to him. “Let’s just say that some men are eager to talk in promise of a blowjob.”
Hyunjin winced, unable to stop himself.
Namjoon nodded, unfazed with your explanation. “We need tangible proof. I’m counting on the two of you.”
Great. Just great.
***
Despite Namjoon’s words, Hyunjin doubted you would agree to partner with him. It was one thing when it was expected of you to pretend and be seen, but looking for information was different. You obviously had your ways and Hyunjin would be a nuisance.
Before you could leave him, Hyunjin grabbed your wrist and forced you to stop and look at him. There was so many things he wished to say but one look at you and only one question remained in his brain.
“You didn’t really give him a blowjob in exchange for information, did you?” He asked, his voice rough.
You scoffed at his question and pulled away from his grasp. “Why? Jealous?”
“Y/N.”
You pushed him away from you by poking his chest angrily. “I have my ways to get the job done, Hwang. Just because we fucked, doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”
Of course, you would go back to being the cold, unpredictable and distant self. He wanted to yell at you, to shake you and remind you that you didn’t always have to work alone, that you could rely on him.
“Namjoon needs proof.” You added, “I’m going to give him that.”
“And I’m going to help you.” Hyunjin insisted.
“No fucking way.
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You had been staring at your computer’s screen for the past twenty minutes as if the solution to your problems would magically pop up on the screen. Obviously, it didn’t which turned your mood even sourer.
The deal with the crows and Park Minjun bothered you. Despite knowing that the man was selling weapons, you had to find a way to get close and get a real proof. But how? You couldn’t really show at his doorstep and ask him about the details. And getting closer to the crows would be too troublesome. With a long and tired sigh, you threw your head back and closed your eyes to think. Sadly, your brain didn’t want to think about work and possible solutions. No, it chose to think about a very cute, yet annoying man.
“Fuck it.” You groaned and tried to erase his image from your mind. You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to remember the night you spent together. You didn’t want to remember how easily your body craved his touches. And you certainly didn’t want to admit how much you still wanted more.
Your doorbell rang and brought you back to reality. You glanced at the door, tempted to ignore whoever dared to disturb you at your place. Not many knew where you lived, it was better this way for your safety.
It rang a second time followed by a loud knock.
“Open the damn door, Y/N!” Jisung’s loud voice reached your ear.
“Of-fucking-course.” The temptation to ignore him was strong but you also knew that Jisung was a stubborn one; he would alert the whole neighborhood if it meant you would open the damn door.
Unwillingly, you forced yourself out of the couch to open the door. “What the fuck do you want?!”
Jisung lifted his bag and wiggled it playfully before you as if it would change your mind about his presence. “Let’s get drunk.”
Tempting, you had to admit it. You stared at the bag before sliding your gaze to him. Jisung was smiling so widely, knowingly, it annoyed you. He didn’t come here just to get drunk; he wanted information and the best way was through alcohol.
“Fine.” You stepped out of his way. “Come in.”
Jisung didn’t need to be told twice. He hurried inside before you could change your mind. He eyed the room, gasping at the mess. Folders were spread all around your table along with your clothes. Despite being back for few days now, instead of properly unpacking, you left your clothes all around the living room.
“Are you going to tell me?” Jisung asked and glanced at you over his shoulder, “Or should I make you talk?”
You eyed him, incredulous. Jisung tried to sound intimidating as if he could actually make you talk but with his boyish looks it just didn’t work. You drew nearer, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You were the predator in the room and you didn’t mind reminding him. You stopped, barely any space left between your bodies.
“And how are you going to make me talk, Ji?” You flicked his nose playfully.
Jisung gulped, not so confident anymore. You laughed and pulled back to give him space. You pulled out a bottle of bear from his bag and walked to the couch. “What exactly do you want to know?”
You plopped on the couch and relaxed.
“How’s work with Hyunjin?” He asked as he grabbed his own bottle and sat on the chair, watching you.
His question didn’t surprise you but it still annoyed you. “He’s a pain in my ass.”
Jisung wiggled his brows playfully. “I’m sure you’re the perfect partner too.”
You already regretted letting him in. You didn’t want to talk about Hyunjin with him. You didn’t want to talk about him at all in fact. But one look at Jisung and you knew he wouldn’t leave until he got his answers. God help me.
“You know I prefer working alone. It’s easier. I don’t want his life to depend on me.” You explained.
Jisung hummed, knowing how your brain worked. “But sometimes it’s nice to know someone has your back. Hyunjin is loyal and will do anything to help you.”
You knew. Your last interaction showed just how much he was willing to help even if you were a cold bitch to him. You wanted to keep him away from you, from the danger that you loved to surround yourself with. He didn’t need this drama in his life. Hyunjin was a nice guy. Even before working with him, you had heard stories about him and you had witnessed on many occasions how wiling he was to help people. Even those who didn’t deserve his help.
“You know I’ll put him in danger.” You sighed in defeat.
Jisung pointed at you with his bottle. “Pretty sure it’s not your call to make.”
***
You didn’t know how you felt about visiting Hyunjin’s office out of the blue. On one hand you knew the reasonable thing to do would be to apologize for your behavior and have a truce with him. But on the other hand, you weren’t particularly fond of the idea of working with him again. You feared that more time you spent with him and more likely you would put him in danger. And maybe grow fond of him too. It was dangerous for your plans and so out of your character. You didn’t have time for men or the patience. You could deal with one night stands; you had your needs to fulfill after all. But more? No. Not your thing. 
But Hyunjin was testing your boundaries, your willpower without even knowing it, therefore it made him dangerous. 
You stared at his half-opened door, hesitating. All you had to do was to walk in, offer him a coffee and apologize. And then ask for his help. Not so hard, was it? It was. You took a deep breath, composed your face and walked inside his office confidently. 
“Hello, Hwang.” You hummed, sounding as friendly as you could manage.
If you had thought it would go easy, you were terribly wrong. Hyunjin barely acknowledged your presence, the only sign that told you he had perfectly heard you, was the way his body tensed at the sound of your voice and how he stopped taping on his computer. Yeah, easy peasy. 
His reaction didn’t deter you. You got to his desk and put the cup of coffee you got him beside his computer, pretending that everything was alright.  
And yet still no reaction. 
You observed him in silence for a moment, taking your time to memorize every part of his face. You smiled when he crunched his nose, his resolution to ignore you slowly crumbling. The corner of your lips quirked up. You sat on the edge of his desk and gently grabbed his chin, tilting his head. “I didn’t give him a blowjob. But I beat the shit out of him when I got the information.” 
Here was the truth of what really happened. Of course, you were ready to do a lot to succeed but you still had your own limits. And you had other effective means to make someone talk. You let go of his chin and tried not to smile at his reaction. 
Hyunjin tried to keep his face straight, to hide his emotions but you saw a glimpse of surprise on his face anyway. You noticed how his body relaxed instantly at your confession. Slowly, he outstretched his arm and grabbed your peace offering. You watched him, eyes never leaving him as he brought the cup of coffee to his damn tempting lips and took a sip. If from outside you were smiling at the little win, inside you were slapping yourself for admiring him a little too much. 
“Thank you for the coffee.” Hyunjin held the cup with one hand and leaned back against his chair. “Why are you here, Y/N?”
‘Because I was an ass to you and I’m sorry. And I need your help.’ You wanted to say. Instead, you eyed him, captivated with his lips and some creams in the corner of his lips. 
“According to Namjoon and also you, we are partners. Can’t I visit my partner?” You tried to play coy, when really, all you had to do was be sincere with him. But it went against your nature and your damn ego. 
Hyunjin wasn’t impressed, judging by the way he quirked a brow and didn’t comment. 
Yeah. It wasn’t so easy after all. You were too hopeful. Who would have guessed that the sweet and gentle Hyunjin could actually hold a (totally justified) grudge. You underestimated him and that was your mistake. 
You sighed in defeat. “Fine. I need your help.” 
Hyunjin whistled, impressed with how long it took you to admit the reason behind your visit. “And here I thought you didn’t need a partner.” 
You chewed on your lips, so tempted to make a snarky comment but you couldn’t. You did need his help. “You won’t make it easy, will you?” 
Hyunjin shrugged as if it was nothing and took another sip, waiting for your explanation, not agreeing right away. You had to admit that you were impressed how easily he managed to keep a straight face, not giving in right away. You knew better than to underestimate an opponent but somehow you did. 
“Fine.” You raised your hands in defeat. “Do you remember Chris? There’s a party and I know Minjun will also attend it. The two of them know that I’m married, it would be weird if I show up without my handsome husband.” 
You waited for him to show any sign, but Hyunjin only stared at you, making you feel uneasy for the first time. He wouldn’t refuse, would he? Not that you couldn’t make it work without him. You were pretty sure you could convince anyone. But deep inside, you wanted him to be by your side. Even if it was a very dangerous game. But then, he stood up and took a step towards you. He put his hands on the desk, on every side of you, trapping you between the desk and him. 
“And how badly do you need my presence, wifey?” He asked, face a little too close to your liking. You could see every little mark, his pretty mole and those damn lips. You could barely remember his question, your attention on his lips only. Someone talked about a mission? A plan? Who cared when you could just tilt your face and claim those lips for yourself.
Seeing how unresponsive you were and with your eyes locked on his lips, Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself from leaning even closer. His lips brushed the shell of your ear; your body reacted on its own, shivering in both excitement and need. “Are you even listening, wifey?”
“I am.” A big fat liar, yes.
He clicked his tongue at your blatant lie and pulled completely away, freeing your body and also your damn brain from his spell. You blinked in confusion and had to fight back the urge to pull him back.
“I’ll help you.”
***
It had been ages since the last time you attended one of Chris’s parties. You avoided those kind of parties if you could. You hated the people that attended it, always the same one: arrogant, rich, who still managed to complain about every little thing when they had everything they needed. You loathed them and hated their conversation. But at least with Chris it was different. Maybe it was because of him and how genuine he was about what he did or maybe he just always managed to ground you.
Tonight was no exception. The venue was huge, classy and smelled of money. Fortunately for you, this time around you didn’t need Chris’s presence to help you to go through the night. You had someone better and definitely more distracting than your friend.
Hyunjin looked insanely good in his red suit and with his hair pushed back. A model. If he ever got tired of his current job, you had no doubt that he could revert to modeling and he would succeed. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed how good he looked tonight; many women had their eyes on him. Too bad, he wasn’t there for them. To mark your claim, you looped your arms with his and gave him a sweet smile. Take that bitches, he’s mine. Very adult of you.
“I know what you’re doing.” Hyunjin whispered and brushed his lips against your forehead.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feigned innocence and took a sip of your drink, nevertheless a smug smile spread on your lips.
Hyunjin chuckled and shook his head, fond with your attempt at hiding your intentions. “I don’t care about those women. But do you know what bothers me?” His fingers slid slowly from your shoulder to your arm to your hand – you shivered in response and looked at him expectantly. “Those men eye-fucking you.”
Oh dear, where was the sweet Hyunjin? He looked anything but gentle right now. In fact, the murder in his eyes reminded you a lot of you. Maybe, he wasn’t that different from you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, making sure not to spill your drink over him, you pressed your body against him. “Maybe fuck me in the middle of the room and they’ll get the hint.”
Despite the display of affection that clearly attracted more attention on the two of you, Hyunjin played the game perfectly. He put his hands on your hips, his grip strong and delicious. “Is it a challenge?”
This time, you were the one to shake your head, amused with the outcome. Here you thought, you could make him blush and change the subject. But no, Hyunjin still managed to surprise you. “When did you get so bold, Hwang?”
“I believe you’re rubbing on me.”
“Namjoon is going to have a heart attack if you start behaving like me.”
Hyunjin could actually imagine Namjoon’s reaction and shivered. “I’m sure it would please you.”
You didn’t comment but your silence spoke louder. So did your smirk.
Reluctantly, Hyunjin let go of you. “He’s here.” Hyunjin commented as he finally spotted Minjun. And as much as you wanted to enjoy your time with your fake husband, you had a job to do. “He’s with his wife.” 
You groaned at the mention of the wife. “I can deal with him but her-“ While investigating about Minjun you found plenty of interesting and disturbing information on his wife. From outside she looked like the typical rich wife. Inside? She was an ugly, manipulative bitch. She had no problem with using her power to bully the weak, to use her influence to get what she wanted. Whoever she wanted. The kind of person you just wished you could shoot and never look at again. Sadly, if you wanted to find out more about the CEO you also needed to face her. 
“I can’t promise I won’t snap.” You finished. 
“Well, my lovely wife,” Hyunjin took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m more than willing to hold you back.” 
Park Minjun spotted the two of you before you could even reach them. His whole face lit up like a Christmas tree, genuinely delighted seeing you again. Maybe not Hyunjin, but you for sure. 
“What a lovely surprise!” He took you completely off guard by reaching for you and giving you a hug. You didn’t peg him for a hugger, but apparently he was. “Such a delight! You look lovely, Y/N.” And then he shook Hyunjin��s hand, surprisingly with enthusiasm. 
“Thank you M. Park.” You gave him your prettiest smile, trying to look as genuine as possible which with Hyunjin’s presence influencing you, wasn’t that hard. At least, until your gaze found the old hag’s face. The urge to slap her was strong; she was ogling Hyunjin as if he was a piece of meat and not a human being. 
“Darling, this is Y/N and Hyunjin.” He introduced you. 
Lazily her gaze slid to you, looking at you as if you were nothing but dirt under her feet. Such a lovely piece of shit, you thought. 
“He’s way too pretty to be your husband.” She commented with a huff of disdain. 
You are going to die. Slowly and painfully.
“He’s way too pretty to be tied to a woman like her.” She completely disregarded you, her attention fully back on Hyunjin.
“Come on darling.” Minjun tried, sensing that her comment brought a tension that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Don’t be rude. Y/N is a lovely and charming woman.” 
“For a whore maybe.” 
Mission, mission, mission. You repeated the word in your head, trying to calm the fire spreading through your veins. Trying to keep your temper in check and not give in to your urge to slice her open with your knife and see if she bled the same color as you. 
Fuck the mission. Discretely, you pushed back the sleeve of your left arm, ready to grab your knife. Before you could get it, Chris appeared right beside you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles as a greeting, his smile charming but his eyes were burning with fire and a threat. A fire that would usually appease you and remind you your place. Not tonight. You were too gone.
“And she is family to me.” Chris announced as he let go of your hand and turned to face the couple. Despite now the polite smile on his face, the threat was obvious. “Please refrain from insulting her or I’ll take it personally.” 
Minjun’s face paled at the threat. It would have amused you to see him squirm if it wasn’t for your wish to fight. He cleared his throat and hurried to take his wife’s hand. “We’re going to grab another drink, let’s talk later.” 
The moment they left, Hyunjin let out a long sigh and looked at you with a knowing look. Someone wanted to scold you but you didn’t give two shits.
“Piece of shit.” The two of you said at the same time.
Hyunjin surprised you with his words and reaction, but oddly, it soothed your nerves and the fire burning inside your veins. Yeah, he was right, you were rubbing on him. 
Chris palmed his face. He barely avoided a massacre right in the middle of the party; just thinking about what could have happened tired him. 
“As much as I hate the woman, you can’t hurt her.” Chris’s hard gaze fell on you and you would have winced at it if not for Hyunjin’s comforting presence. 
“She’s a bitch!” You protested.
“And you have dozens of witnesses.” He gestured at the people surrounding you. “Don’t get sloppy.”
Fine. Chris was right, but you still felt the need to get rid the world of another ugly human-being. Hyunjin sensed that; he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. 
“It’s not like she was going to kill her.” Hyunjin told him, confident. 
Oh Hyunjin, if only you knew.
You wished he hadn’t said that. Not only because he was wrong, but also because it would alert Chris. 
“Sure about that? Y/N was ready to pull out her knife and end her right on the spot.” He looked at your covered arm, knowing a small knife was hiding under it. “She craves violence but I’m sure,” his gaze slid to Hyunjin, “you already knew that.” 
Your palms were sweaty. Chris made you squirm under his mocking gaze. He knew this whole couple thing was fake, he felt it from the first time he had seen Hyunjin and Hyunjin’s faith in you only proved it. 
“Have fun.” Chris said with one good look at the two of you. “But don’t cause trouble.” 
So tempting to tell him to fuck off but you resisted only for the sake of pretense. 
“You weren’t really planning to hurt her?” Hyunjin asked.
“She insulted you. This old damn hag-“
“Simp.”
“Take that back, Hwang!” 
****
It was only much later that you managed to have a second chance with Minjun, without his wife scowling at you. You didn’t even have much to do to attract his attention; the moment you found yourself alone with your drink, he didn’t hesitate to approach you. Obviously, Hyunjin’s presence never bothered him, but Chris? He clearly didn’t want to attract his attention a second time.
“I’m so sorry for my wife’s behavior.” He apologized, standing close to you.
You smiled sweetly at him, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s fine. No harm done.” But what you really wanted to say was that his wife would not live another day if she ever made another comment about Hyunjin or even dared to look his way.
He smiled, grateful for your gentleness.
Another man, in black suit, joined the two of you. He nodded his head at Minjun and stood closely to the two of you. You remembered him. The same man that went with Minjun to meet the crows. You listened to the man, looking invested in whatever he was saying while your mind was going through different ways you could get information out of him. Instead, you spotted something else on the bodyguard as he moved: a gun.
“Nice gun.” You commented, taking the two men off guard. Of course, they judged you for your looks and underestimated you. As if a woman who looked like a doll could know anything about guns. You stared at the gun for a moment before averting your eyes. “I don’t recognize the model.”
Minjun whistled, impressed. “You are full of surprises, Y/N.”
That you were. You smiled into your drink, trying not to look too smug. “My uncle is an avid collector.” You glanced once more at the gun. “He taught me how to shoot.”
Minjun made a sign with his hand and the bodyguard took few steps towards you before pulling his gun and handing it to you. You glanced at the man, making sure he didn’t mind you touching it; he nodded his head and smiled.
“Oh. I expected it to be heavier.” You commented as you admired the gun. You moved it around, weighing it.
“It’s a new design. I wanted to make life easier for my men.” Minjun admitted, proudly.
You handed the gun back to the bodyguard, your gaze on the older man. “Guess you’re full of surprises too, M. Park.”
“It’s a hobby of mine.” He confessed.
“That reminds me of my uncle.”
“I bet I’d get along with your uncle.”
He wouldn’t.
***
Of course the crows would want the best guns on the market and if Park Minjun was the one making them, it was no surprise they agreed to work with him. But still, you needed more to be able to stop them. Maybe talking with Hyunjin would clear your mind and help you to find a solution to your problem. But before you could do any of that, Chris grabbed your arm and pulled you to the balcony where nobody could hear you.
Chris did not look amused when he met your eyes. In fact, you were pretty sure he was upset and was trying really bad to keep his own temper in check.
“What’s wrong Chris?”
“The fuck you’re doing, Y/N?” He scowled.
It wouldn’t be very wise of you to play pretend with him; Chris could read people easily, even you which annoyed you half of the time. Tonight was no exception. He could tell you were up to something and probably something bad. He wasn’t wrong.
“Nothing.” You raised your arms in defense. “Yet.”
Chris took a deep breath to calm himself. “What’s your business with Park Minjun?”
Nothing went unnoticed, how sad. Unfortunately, you couldn’t share your mission with him, no matter how close the two of you were. “None. We met not long ago while I was enjoying a nice weekend with Hyunjin.”
Chris scoffed at the mention of your fake husband. “Who clearly knows shit about you.”
In a blink of an eye you stood before him, your knife no longer hidden under your sleeve and pressed against his throat. “And you better keep it that way.”
Chris didn’t even blink, he stared at you, unimpressed. Wouldn’t be the first time you threatened him. Nor the last. “You and your love for knives is terrifying.”
“Don’t see why.” You shrugged and pulled away. It would do you no good to fight him and you weren’t that confident either. Behind his calmness, Chris was a sleeping storm; a storm you would rather avoid.
“Did you know Minjun sells weapons?” You asked instead.
Chris raised his brow at the change of subject. “Yes. He’s been a little paranoid recently. Some people want him dead, I heard. Beomseok offered him a deal: he will protect him but in exchange he will decide to who he sells the weapons.”
What a shitty deal, you thought. From outside, it looked nice; Minjun kept his business and his life, but really, he lost everything. “Basically, the crows are taking control over his business in exchange for his life.”
“Yes, nothing good will come out of this deal.” Chris admitted as he kept his eyes on you. You could tell there was more he wanted to say but chose to hold back.
“What?”
“You’re asking questions but you already know the answers.” He noted, expecting you to spill all your secrets.
Your only reaction came in the form of a lazy, knowing smile.
***
Hyunjin was going to be pissed. Rightfully so. And you would probably need to find another peace offering quite soon. You knew leaving him behind wasn’t the nicest thing to do, especially not since you were the one who requested his presence at the party. But you couldn’t involve him in your plans. Not only he wouldn’t approve of your ideas but you bet he would try to stop you. Therefore, you left the party without looking back.
Just in case, you had left your car in the parking lot with clothes and weapons. You hurried to change, ditching your dress for a more comfortable outfit: black pants, grey t-shirt, a jacket and a cap to hide your identity if needed. You hid your favorite gun under your t-shirt, reveling in the feeling of it against your skin. You hid another knife in your boots, tucking it safely.
Once ready, you slumped in your seat, you waited and watched people coming in and out of the venue. Your plan wasn’t the best one and you weren’t fully sure it would lead you anywhere but you were tired of waiting and trying to find other ways to get proofs.
You didn’t need to wait long for Minjun to leave the party along with his wife and the bodyguard. Perfect. You waited for the car to start, gave them a moment to leave the parking lot and then you followed.
Obviously, you couldn’t invite yourself at his house and search the place, too dangerous. But the bodyguard? He was there the night the deal happened which meant he had valuable information and stalking him would be a piece of cake. And it was exactly what you did.
The bodyguard dropped the Parks at their house, stayed barely five minutes inside before leaving again. You hoped he would drive to his place – it would be easier to slip inside and get to him. But no, you supposed like many men he needed to unwind after a long day of work and the best place for many happened to be a bar.
You followed him inside and observed him from a corner, watching as he talked to some other men. You weren’t a very patient person, half of the time, but when it came to work and your preys, you didn’t mind waiting as long as it helped you to get what you needed.
And you were rewarded. He left through the backdoor to smoke. And it was your chance. The place was perfect; barely any light and nobody outside. And no security cameras. He shouldn’t have used the backdoor.
Satisfied, you moved closer to him without making any noise and pointed your gun at his head. “Let’s play a game.”
He froze at the sound of your voice and the feel of the gun pressed against his head. He was sloppy and it was his mistake. He should have known that working for Park Minjun would bring him trouble; he should have watched his back. Too bad for him, but good for you.
You got around to face him. The moment his eyes fell on you; you knew he recognized you. His arm twitched, wanting probably to reach for his own gun but you shook your gun and pressed it a little harder against his head.
“Now come on, play nice.”
“What the fuck do you want?” He spat angrily, fuming that a woman managed to ambush him so easily. You bet, he was even angrier with himself for underestimating you, for being deceived with your sweet looks.
“Told you, let’s play a game. I ask you questions and if you play nice you stay alive. Easy right?” You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the little game. You enjoyed making the strong men squirm.
He scoffed. “You won’t kill me.” And here he was underestimating you again.
You sighed, disappointed. Fine, if he wanted to play the tough guy. With a blink of an eye, you grabbed his arm and kicked his right knee making him fall on his knees. “Ah, men on their knees, always such a nice sight.” You smiled sweetly at him. “Now. I heard that your boss is working with the crows. Where can I find the contract?”
He looked at you. Really looked at you. You were a different person and he had finally realized it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You hovered over him and shook your head. “I really want to play nice but you’re making things unnecessary complicated.”
He spat at your feet in response.
“Rude. Sure you don’t want to answer?” You tried to give him another chance. “No?”
Because he was so concentrated on your gun, he didn’t notice you pulling out your knife, you stuck it right into his left thigh. He screamed and grabbed his thigh, cursing loudly.
“Now, let’s try again. Where can I find the contract?” You asked again, your voice much colder.
“I don’t know!” He wailed.
You applauded his attempt at lying to your face. He should have understood by now that you were ready to get your hands dirty to get your answers, but he still tried to resist.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket which made you pause. You took it out of your pocket to see Hyunjin’s name on the screen. As tempting as it was to ignore his call, you couldn’t, not after leaving him without a word at the party.
You sighed and looked down at the man. “Be a good boy and keep your mouth shut.” And then you answered your phone. “Hi darling!”
“Where the fuck are you, Y/N?” Hyunjin almost growled on the phone.
Yeah, he was pissed. “Somewhere. Busy.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m sorry. I should have texted you but I got carried away.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. The moment the plan formed in your head, you couldn’t really think about anything else. “And I didn’t warn you because I knew you wouldn’t agree.”
The man at your feet opened his mouth, wanting probably to scream and hope to get some help. You were faster; you put the gun into his mouth. He whimpered, eyes wide.
“Y/N.” Hyunjin’s voice sounded darker.
“I’m fine. Stop worrying.”
There was a silence on the other end and then he exhaled loudly. “And is the other person with you fine?”
Busted. You glared angrily at the man. “For at least another ten minutes, yes.”
You imagined Hyunjin ruffling his hair in frustration, torn between the wish to tell you to stop and something else.
“Be careful.” Was what he chose to say.
“Aw darling, you almost sound like you really care for me.” You grinned, delighted with his words.
Hyunjin hung up first. Satisfied, you turned your attention back on the bleeding man. “So? How about you end your misery? I was there when he signed the contract.”
“You’re not going to spare my life.” He managed to say. It wasn’t a question; he had realized by now that you weren’t a nice person.
“No. But if you play along I’ll make it painless.” You admitted.
He considered it for a moment. There was only the two of you, the gun still pointed at him and his thigh was bleeding. He could try to overpower you but the way you looked at him made him pause. There was no trace of the gentle woman he had seen before. No, your smile was cruel and eyes cold. The eyes of a killer.
He was fucked.
“They kept the contract. Boss was furious that they didn’t even get him a copy.”
You crouched down to his level, watching him closely. You needed to know if he wasn’t trying to lie to you. He wasn’t. He looked tired and paler. “They never play nice.”
He nodded, agreeing. “There’s something else. When he signed the contract, they showed him the list of clients he could sell to.”
“Let me guess,” You hummed, “Bunch of assholes he didn’t want to sell to?”
“Yes. They kept it too.”
“I see.” You straightened up and pointed your gun at his head once more. “Thank you for your help.” And shot.
***
You came straight home after dealing with the bodyguard, desperately needing a good shower to get rid of some blood on your hands and get rid of your bloodied t-shirt. But more importantly, you needed to plan now that you knew who had the contract. All your plans for the rest of the night vanished the moment you spotted Hyunjin, sitting on the floor against your door.
What the hell. You were going to kill Han Jisung for not minding his god-damn-business. There was no way Hyunjin found your address without his help. You didn’t want him to know where you lived. You didn’t want him to get even closer to you; it was too risky for both you and him.
You stared at him, forgetting how to breath. You didn’t expect to see him so soon and definitely not after you had killed someone. You didn’t want him to witness you in this state but there was no way you could hide now. So you stared, thinking about what you could do, what you would say. What you could say.
Hyunjin looked tired and worried. His hair a mess, you bet he kept ruffling his hair in frustration, wondering what exactly you were doing. Or maybe he was messing his hair because he knew exactly what you were up to and it scared him. But even like this, he looked insanely good. You’re insane, Y/N.
You exhaled and chuckled. “I’m surprise my neighbor didn’t call the cops.”
Easily, Hyunjin got back on his feet and waited for you to join him. “Oh don’t worry. The old lady did threaten to call them. But I charmed her.”
Of course, he did. Nobody could possibly resist him. And yet, you wondered how he managed this miracle. You knew Mrs. Kim; she was an old, cold lady, who loved her peace and didn’t appreciate strangers. In fact, she didn’t like many people, you included. Not that you minded.
“And how exactly did you charm her?”
“I told her that we fought and I was willing to stay at your door the whole night if it means you will forgive me. Turns out she’s a romantic. She wished me good luck.” Hyunjin admitted, a faint blush on his face.
You would have never guessed. But then again, you avoided the old woman as much as you could.
Hyunjin’s eyes roamed your face and then your body, silently checking for any injuries. You winced because he couldn’t miss the blood on your clothes. He closed the distance between the two of you and cupped your face, worry written all over his face. “Are you hurt?”
You should be annoyed. Annoyed that Jisung told him where you lived. Annoyed that he came here. Annoyed that he cared so much for you when you were half of the time a bitch to him. Annoyed how your heartbeat quickened at his touch. Annoyed how your insides melted. But you didn’t feel annoyance. No, you felt the butterflies in your stomach and the need to wrap yourself around him and let his warmth consume you.
“I’m fine.” You assured him, your throat suddenly dry.
Despite your answer, Hyunjin didn’t look fully convinced. You held your breath as his hands slowly slid from your face to your neck and then to your unzipped jacket. His frown only deepened at the sight of blood. Sensing what he was about to do, you grabbed his hands and forced him to stop, remembering too late that your hands weren’t very clean either. “It’s not my blood.”
“Are you sure?”
It appeased your heart to know that he wasn’t worried about what you did, only about you. A small smile crept across your face. “Yes. I was too fast for him.”
Hyunjin took you off guard; he pressed his forehead against yours, exhaling in relief. “Good.”
The reasonable thing to do would be to tell him to go home. The reasonable thing would be to put some distance between the two of you, but your body refused to move and your words got stuck in your throat. The little voice inside your head screamed at you to escape his warmth – you didn’t even try. No, you closed your eyes and reveled in the moment. It felt too nice. Too good. Girl, you’re fucked.
“Want to come in?”
***
You didn’t want to get used to the feeling of waking up beside a still sleeping Hyunjin. It went against your rules and compromised everything you worked for. And yet, as you watched him sleeping, a few strands of hair hiding his eyes, you barely cared. You hadn’t felt this calm, this peaceful in years. It disturbed you but it was also nice.
You reached out to touch his face, but Hyunjin grabbed your wrist and instead pulled you right in his arms, his grip strong around you. You squealed, surprised. And here you thought he was still sleeping. He tricked you.  
“Were you pretending, Hwang?” You tried to sound annoyed to hide your own embarrassment.
Hyunjin held you a little tighter as he planted a kiss to the crown of your head. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
You huffed against his chest and pressed yourself a little more against him, wrapping a leg over him. Yeah, it was a nice change. 
Hyunjin chuckled at your unusual behavior. “And here I thought you didn’t mind sharing a bed with me as long as I wasn’t a hugger.” He threw back your own words at you. 
And he was damn right. You never liked huggers and yet you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying it with Hyunjin. To save your face, you tried to extract yourself from the safety of his arms. You barely made it before he pulled you back with even more strength and wrapped his limbs around you. 
“No, no. Don’t even try. You’re stuck with me.” He warned you. 
“Let me go, Hwang.” You tried again. But he didn’t let go. “Hyunjin.” 
He hummed against you and brushed his lips against your skin, shutting you up pretty quickly. “Try calling me Hyunjin again and you won’t leave this bed at all.” 
You were glad your face was hidden from his eyes, preventing him from seeing the light blush that formed on your face. He was a menace and was getting better at it with every moment he spent with you. You were in trouble. 
***
By some kind of miracle, the two of you managed to get ready and leave on time. Hyunjin thought the two of you would get to the office together, but sadly for him you had other plans in mind and you couldn’t let him come with you. 
“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” Hyunjin realized when you were finally ready to part from him. 
“Yeah. I have few things to do.” You admitted, feeling a little nervous under his knowing gaze. Of course, he knew you were up to something again. 
Hyunjin stayed close to you, watching you, thinking about what he should do. The reasonable thing to do, and especially because he was your partner, would to push you to tell him your plan. But Hyunjin knew better. He could try to force you but he wanted you to willingly include him in your plans, to show him that you trusted him. 
“Does it involve you ending up with blood on your clothes?” He asked instead. 
“No.” You said. 
“And you won’t get hurt either right?” 
Did your heart miss a beat at his genuine concern for your wellbeing? Absolutely. You cleared your throat and avoided his eyes; you didn’t need him to see the different emotions in your eyes. 
“No. I’ll be fine.” 
Hyunjin gently grabbed your face and brushed his lips against yours. “No more killing, Y/N.” He insisted.
You opened your mouth to protest but he hurried to add. “For the week.” 
You shook your head, chuckling to yourself. “Careful, Hwang. You’re becoming like me.” 
***
You arrived at the restaurant shortly after. Despite your intentions, you hesitated at the entrance. You easily spotted the person you were looking for through the window; your cousin looked just the same. Still cheerful, still loud and just like every time you saw him, he was surrounded by his friends. You felt a pang in your heart. You used to love spending time with him, he was the only family that still mattered to you, the only you cared about. You didn’t want to involve him in your plan, but he was the safest choice.
You took a deep breath and pushed the door. You walked in as if you owned the place. A small smile towards the waiter and then, you walked straight to your cousin’s table. He was too busy telling a story, he didn’t notice you until it was too late. The moment his eyes locked with yours, a huge grin spread on your lips.
“Hi, sweet boy.” You plopped on the empty chair beside him. “Hello boys.”
A hush fell over the table; all they did was stare at you.
“Well look at that. Isn’t it your sweet little cousin?” One of his friend beamed in delight and mischief. Beomgyu was still this mischievous kid that followed your cousin. You could scowl at him all you wanted, he never cared which you couldn’t help but appreciate.
“It has been a while kiddo.” You leaned closer to him and nudged his arm playfully. “Still a troublemaker?”
“Look who’s talking.” He teased back. “Hey, Yeonjun, when was the last time you saw your cousin?”
You rolled your eyes in response. It wasn’t even that long. Maybe two or three months ago. At best.
“Six months ago.” Yeonjun answered, tapping his fingers on the table, unamused.
Oops. So maybe you got carried away with your work and forgot to visit him. You didn’t look so smug anymore. “It can’t be that long!” But it probably was. “I’m sorry.” You raised your hands in defense. “I’m a bad cousin but you already knew that.” 
You weren’t really bad cousin. You knew that. And so did Yeonjun. When he needed you the most, you were there. When he finally found the courage to put his past behind him, you were delighted to help him to have a fresh start.
Yeonjun sighed and just when you thought he would make it harder than it had to be, he threw a fry right at you, an devilish grin on his face. 
You gasped loudly. “Asshole!” 
“Love you too, pumpkin.” He blew you a kiss. 
“Ugh not this nickname.” You groaned but even if you didn’t like it, your inside warmed at his words. You shouldn’t have stayed away for so long. 
“Are we about to start a food fight?” Beomgyu asked, already grabbing a tomato, ready to aim. 
“No!” You both answered. Yeonjun probably because he didn’t want to be banned from this restaurant and you because you didn’t want to dirty your clothes. 
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun leaned a little closer. 
“What do you mean?” You feigned innocence. “I miss my cousin.” 
Yeonjun rolled his eyes at your bad acting. “As if.” 
You did miss him, but he was right, you weren’t here because of that. “Fine. I need your help.”
He cocked a brow, a little intrigued. Usually, it was the other way around and it made him curious. “I’m listening.”
“I need you to steal a very important contract from your old daddy.” 
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He wasn’t supposed to follow you. He should have headed straight to work and forget about the different plans that were probably forming in your head. But could someone blame him for worrying? He knew how reckless you were and no matter how good you were at your work, one day it could fireback. So instead of doing his own job, he followed you as discretely as possible, knowing that if you ever caught him, you would be pissed. 
Out of all the places he expected you to go, a restaurant wasn’t one of them. He waited and watched from across the street. You looked comfortable with the group of men, smiling and laughing. A sight he still wasn’t used to see but couldn’t deny worked against him. Your smile warmed him and his heart beat a little faster, imagining it was for him. It dawned on him that your smile meant a lot to him and if he could, he would keep it only for himself. If he could, he would keep you for himself.
Seeing you safe and sound should have been enough for him to leave and go back to his business. But did he? No. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at you.
Hyunjin was not a jealous person. Or insecure. At least, he thought he wasn’t. But apparently, when it came to you, everything changed. The moment he saw one of the men lean into you and wrap his arms around you, Hyunjin couldn’t ignore the green monster inside him. He wanted to talk to the two of you and yank you away from the man. He wanted to ask you the difficult questions. But he did none of that. Because there was one thing he didn’t want: fight with you. 
Or maybe he was just a coward. 
***
Hyunjin came back to his office feeling suddenly tired but also needing a distraction. He thought working on his other case would distract him from thoughts of you, from the image of another man holding you. It was a useless attempt when you lived rent free in his head. 
“Fuck.” He cursed and gripped his pen so tightly he broke it in two. 
“Someone is in a mood.” Jisung’s cheerful voice interrupted his trail of thoughts.
Hyunjin blinked in confusion, his eyes on his broken pen. He was a mess and he bet it was written all over his face. He tried to compose himself as Jisung approached, but failed.
“Dude, you look miserable.” Jisung commented and plopped on a chair, making himself comfortable.
For once, Hyunjin didn’t feel like talking to his friend, knowing damn well he would seek information out of him, knowing he would read right through him.  “What are you doing here, Ji?”
“I was bored.” Jisung shrugged as if it was nothing which earnt him a scowl from Hyunjin, ready to fight him. Jisung raised his hands in defense. “Fine. Stop looking at me like that. You’re becoming like her.”
But his scowl only deepened at the mention of you.
Jisung sighed in defeat. “Fine. I saw you earlier, you looked pissed as hell. I tried calling for you a few times – you either didn’t hear me or ignored me on purpose.”
“And you don’t like being ignored.” Hyunjin commented.
“That,” Jisung agreed with a nod, “And I was worried too.”
Hyunjin considered not telling him what was bothering him but he quickly figured that if he couldn’t openly tell you that he was jealous, he could at least share it with Jisung. Hyunjin ruffled his hair in frustration and groaned. “I followed her this morning and saw her with a bunch of men.”
Jisung leaned closer, his attention fully on him, a tiny smirk on his face that irked Hyunjin. “Nothing unusual for the moment.”
“She looked really close with one of them. I-“
“Damn man, you’re so whipped.” Jisung couldn’t hold back.
“Am not.” Hyunjin protested in vain. He stared at Jisung for a moment, sensing that he had lied not only to his friend but also to himself. Hyunjin buried his face in his hands to stifle another groan. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Jisung chuckled at his misery. “Well, a piece of advice; you should talk to her and clear the air.”
“You know her better than me.” Hyunjin reminded him. “Do you really think she will take it well?”
Jisung considered his question for a moment. “Probably not.”
***
9pm.
On a normal day, Hyunjin would have been already back at his place, relaxing with some food and a TV show. Tonight, however, he dreaded the moment he would have to go back home and found himself stuck with thoughts he wanted to avoid. But if Hyunjin thought staying at work would save him from you, he was wrong.
The door to his office was pushed, the sound making him realize that he wasn’t alone on the floor as he initially thought. His eyes widened in shock to see you standing by the door. He gulped nervously as he eyed you from head to toe. Hyunjin didn’t think you could look any better but you proved him wrong again. You wore different clothes from this morning; a leather skirt along with a white blouse. Hair tied in a ponytail, red lips. Sexy, confident and delighted with his reaction. He quickly averted his eyes, refusing to let you see how affected he was with just your presence.
Foolish of him to think it would stop you.
Hyunjin heard your light steps getting closer to him. He tried to pretend you weren’t here but as you got closer, so did your sweet, intoxicating scent. He watched from the corner of his eyes as you sat on his desk, your skirt hiking in the process. He shouldn’t be staring at your lovely legs but the temptation was too strong and he was just too weak when it came to you. Hyunjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself.
“What’s wrong, Hwang?” You asked and gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to face you.
Such a simple touch and yet it sent shivers down his spine. A simple touch that set his body on fire. “Nothing.” But maybe, Hyunjin was a little stubborn too. “I’m just tired.”
You scoffed at his blatant lie. “You’re a terrible liar. Try again.”
Hyunjin resisted. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”
“Why not?” You asked instead. “You’re my partner.”
‘Am I only that?’ he wanted to ask instead but no words left his mouth. He simply stared back at you, watching as a frown formed on your face at his silence and refusal to cooperate. It only proved you that there was something wrong with him.
Hyunjin easily freed himself from your grip and slumped further into his chair. “I’m sure you have better things to do, Y/N.” Maybe pushing you away wasn’t his brightest idea, but Hyunjin wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself and to hide his emotions. He didn’t want you to see just how affected he was.
“You’re right.” You said and jumped from his desk. For once, you didn’t want to push his limits. You didn’t want to fight. “I should probably go back to people who actually miss me.”
The moment you turned your back to leave, Hyunjin saw again the image of you, happy, with a man other than him and he didn’t like it. Before you could take another step, Hyunjin bolted from his chair and grabbed your arm. He spun you in his arms and claimed your mouth, any protests swallowed by his mouth.
There was absolutely no way, he could let you leave.
Contrary to what he thought you would do; you didn’t try to push him away. No, he felt you smiling against his lips, knowing you had win this game so damn easily. It should alarm him, but he didn’t find it in him to care. Not when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to your body. Not when you fought him just as hardly for dominance.
Hyunjin lifted you from the floor, bringing you back on top of his desk. He stood between your legs, grinding against you. His whole body was begging him to do something, to taste you, to devour you. You were his drug and he was more than eager to indulge in his addiction.
“And here I thought you wanted me to leave, Hwang.” You managed to say, wanting to sound smug, but instead your voice came out breathy.  
Hyunjin refused to answer to your provocation. Instead, he hiked your skirt and slid his hand between your legs, humming in satisfaction. You were soaked and he barely touched you. “How come you’re already this wet, darling?”
Hyunjin slipped two fingers inside you with ease, teasing. So wet. So warm. So perfect. And only for him.
You bit on your lips to prevent a moan from escaping. Futile attempt. “Mmmh, maybe because I was thinking about you.”
Hyunjin smiled lazily. “Is that so?” He pulled out his fingers and brought them to his lips, to have a taste. His drug. “Are you hoping to get fucked tonight, Y/N?”
Judging by the glint in his eyes, you guessed that trying to play coy would get you nowhere. “Yes.” You admitted. Because truth was, you couldn’t get enough of him too.
Hyunjin’s smile stretched wider. His hands left your body to unzip his pants, showing you your prize. His pretty cock. Hard and needy. “And who am I to deny you?”
You licked your lips in hunger and anticipation, your body remembering how nice he felt. How nice his cock could stretch you. 
Hyunjin pushed your legs further apart and filled you to the hilt with one strong push. You threw your head back as a loud and needy moan escaped your lips. Hyunjin groaned as you clenched without thinking around him.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He growled and slowly pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside of you.
“Don’t hold back.” You pleaded. You wanted him to show you no mercy. To ruin you completely. To leave you begging, drooling, unable to do anything except beg for his cock.
Hyunjin hovered over you and planted a sweet kiss. The last one before he let go. He thrust back in. Strong. Deep. Every thrust harder than the last.
You thrashed under him, trying to grab at anything to keep you grounded.
Pointless. 
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the intensity. But his hand closed around your neck, forcing you to keep your eyes open. Forcing you to look him in the eyes as he fucked you with intensity, bringing you closer to your sweet release. So close you could taste it. You could feel it.
“Please, Hyunjin,” You begged, tears pricking your eyes. Your whole body was burning, shaking, begging for release. “I’m so close.”
Hyunjin smirked, “I love when you beg, Y/N.”
Just when you thought you would explode, Hyunjin slowed down. He did once. Twice. By the third time you writhed and cried. You grabbed his arms, scratching him in retribution but it only made him grin.
“Say what you need.”
“Hyunjin, I can’t. Please.” You pleaded, too desperate for relief.
And he complied. He fucked you with force, hitting the sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl. You tried to keep your eyes open, but you couldn’t. Not when your orgasm hit you, waves of pleasures. Your body shook, unable to stop as Hyunjin kept fucking you.
Hyunjin came with a shudder before collapsing on top of you, his head pressed to your breasts. You stayed in silence. The only sound in the room were your pants and the loud beating of your hearts.
“Come to my place?” You found your voice and yet you didn’t sound like yourself. Too vulnerable.
Hyunjin peeked at you, his hair sticking to his face. “Round two?”
***
You were full of surprises.
Hyunjin realized as he stood in the middle of your living room that he should definitely stop making assumptions about you. He came to terms that despite the time the two of you had spent together there were still so many layers of your personality, many things about your life that he didn’t know but was more than eager to find out.
Who would have guessed that you enjoyed cooking? It seemed so out of character. He thought your hobbies would definitely revolve around knives and different kind of weapons. And maybe a shopping addict because your outfits always looked on point. And yet when he glanced over his shoulder and saw you cooking and humming to yourself, it seemed so natural. You had tied your hair in a messy bun and had changed into more comfortable clothes; grey sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt. You looked so homey, so comfortable, Hyunjin had to fight the urge to join you and backhug you.
He shook off the image of you and him for the sake of his sanity and instead took his time to observe your place. Last night, his attention was fully on you, he barely noticed the details. Hyunjin expected to see a place cold, without personality and with only few furniture because you seemed like someone who just didn’t have time to linger for long in one place.
Boy wrong he was. Warm colors, fluffy blankets and pillows spread all over the couch and on a single chair. Dozens of shelves with books occupied two walls. Pictures all over the main wall in the living room. So many pictures. Hyunjin walked to the wall, his hands in his pockets. Pictures that showed you at different stages of your life. On some you looked like a high-schooler, on some a little older, and always surrounded by people. You looked happy, a big smile plastered on your face on every pictures and sometimes you were making silly faces. On one picture he recognized Chris; he had one arm around your shoulders, dimples on full display and another girl with the two of you. But what got his full attention was the picture of you and the man he recognized from earlier. You were on his back, laughing.
“Ah. You found my wall of memories.” You joined him and looked fondly at the pictures.
“You look different.” Hyunjin admitted without looking at you. You looked free, happy and so warm. A side of you he saw glimpses from time to time but he wondered what it would be like if you were always like this.
You hummed in response.
“Who are they?” Hyunjin asked when really all he wanted to ask was: who is this guy?
“Friends. Some I met years ago and some during my missions.”
“And him?” Hyunjin ended up pointing at the mysterious guy. Was he another of your friends? He looked too comfortable with you, too touchy, too close.
Your face softened at the picture. “My cousin and the only family left. He’s a pain in my ass but I love him.”
Did Hyunjin feel a little dumb for believing he was something more? Yeah. But was he also relieved? Hell yes. He almost wept in relief. He didn’t dare to look at you, scared you would see the emotions written all over his face. But if he thought he could hide from you, he was once more wrong. You saw how tensed he was before he found out the identity of the guy and you didn’t forget his behaviour in his office.
You drew nearer, watching him. “Tell me, Hwang,” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently tug at his hair. “Did you think he was my man?” You brushed your lips against his, smiling against him. “You’re a terrible spy by the way.”
Fuck my life. Hyunjin should have known that his spying skill weren’t on par with yours but he still thought he was being discrete. Or maybe he was too caught up in his head when he saw you with your cousin and simply didn’t hide well enough.
You bit on his lower lip making him growl. “Were you jealous?”
Hyunjin opened his mouth to protest but closed it as quickly. Who was he kidding? He was jealous and you both knew it.
You laughed fondly and pecked his lips once more before going back to the kitchen without a word.
Jisung was right. He was completely and utterly whipped for you.
***
When Namjoon asked to see him, Hyunjin almost expected another meeting with you. Yet, this time around he was the only one to come. Was it an ominous sign? Maybe but Hyunjin refused to think about it. The past week was incredible. It seemed that the universe was finally smiling at him. Or maybe he got lucky. Either way, he was thriving.
A lead in his case. Many nights tangled up in your sheets. Many stolen kisses. Many giggles. Everything to be happy.
“Should I worry?” Namjoon asked as he eyed him. “You look too happy.” He added seeing his confused face.
Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his smile and shook his head.
Namjoon quirked a brow but didn’t comment. He pushed some papers instead towards him. Hyunjin leaned closer and took a look. He stiffened as he saw the names mentioned on the papers.
“What the,” Hyunjin stopped himself on time. His eyes darted back and forth between what clearly was the contract between the crows and Park Minjun. “How?” But Hyunjin had a feeling, he already knew how. The image of you and blood on your clothes popped in his mind. It had to be you.
“Y/N brought it yesterday. Along with the list of people the crows wanted to sell the weapons too.” Namjoon explained and relaxed in his seat. “I have everything I need for the next step. Which also means the two of you don’t need to work together anymore.”
Hyunjin’s stomach sank at his words. Of course, it was bound to happen sooner or later and it shouldn’t worry him so much now that he was spending more time with you without even talking about work. But then, he was with you last night, you could have told him. But you didn’t. Why?
Namjoon observed him in silence. He expected Hyunjin to be happy to finally be free of you and your temper, but he guessed easily he was wrong. “You seem disappointed.” 
“I-“ Hyunjin began and stopped himself. Disappointed was an understatement but he couldn’t tell him that. Instead, he cleared his throat and straightened his back. “No, I’m good.” 
“Is that so?” Namjoon wasn’t convinced but didn’t insist, it wasn’t his business. “But in case you’re wondering, Y/N asked for few days off. You won’t see her around.” 
***
Hyunjin had a bad feeling that had everything to do with the damn contract you had brought to Namjoon. You kept doing things on your own, things that clearly were dangerous if not impossible to accomplish. And yet, you somehow managed to pull it off. Did you get help? Did you somehow manage to infiltrate the crows? Or maybe you had someone inside who was willing to take a huge risk for you. There were so many possible theories in his mind. One thing was sure, he needed to make sure you weren’t in trouble. 
Like any normal person, Hyunjin tried calling you. Once, twice. Ten times and with no result. It was his first clue that something he didn’t know about was going on. Then, he called Jisung. He didn’t want to overstep some boundaries but he couldn’t ignore how his worries were consuming him from inside. 
Thankfully, Jisung didn’t send him straight to his voicemail. “Whatever it is, I can’t help you.” As if Jisung knew from the start why he was calling.
Hyunjin’s nostrils flared at his words. “Where is she?” 
“Who?” 
“My mother.” Hyunjin snapped. It wasn’t in his character to snap at people and especially not at his friends but his patience was running thin. “Y/N. Who else?” 
“No clue, why?” 
Hyunjin took a deep breath, clenched his fist and counted to ten. Why did it need to be so damn complicated? “Jisung. You’re a terrible liar. You have tabs on everyone. Even Namjoon. So tell me, where is she?”
Jisung gasped loudly, offended that he would use his little secret against him. “I do-“
“Please.” Hyunjin cut him. “I just need to make sure she’s okay.” 
“I promise you she’s more than okay.” Jisung tried to appease him.
“Jisung.”
“You can’t call me every time you need help with her! I’m also her friend and it sucks to be stuck between you two.”
Hyunjin winced at his words that felt like a slap. Jisung was right. And Hyunjin did feel bad about it. Except, when it came to you, he became a selfish bastard. “And I’m sorry for that. But please, help me out.”
“She’s going to have my head.” Jisung grumbled more to himself than to Hyunjin, but despite his words, Hyunjin heard him doing his little magic trick on his computer.  
***
Getting inside a bar, unnoticed, in the middle of the day was harder than Hyunjin had imagined. And just maybe he had overestimated his spying skills. Again. The first person to notice him was the barman; he stared at him with a quirked brow, clearly curious with Hyunjin’s little game. Hyunjin expected him to say something and maybe call the security– he didn’t. He shrugged as if he didn’t care, as if it wasn’t his business.
Hyunjin was not complaining with his little luck.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.” Hyunjin recognized your voice instantly. He found you at the other side of the room, heading to the hall along with two other men. And boy you looked pissed. He didn’t know what these men did to offend you, but he bet they were about to spend a very bad time with you.
Any other day, Hyunjin would have felt sympathy for these poor men, but then, Hyunjin really looked at them. One face, he was familiar with. A man he recognized from an old case; he had been a suspect but because of lack of proof he was still a free man. Why are you with him, Y/N?
Curiosity got the best of him; Hyunjin followed you, trying not to make any sound.
“He’s furious.” The second man commented, sounding nervous as he spoke.
“I don’t see how it’s my problem.” You completely disregarded his worries.
“Y/N, you don’t understand. He’s ready to shoot us all if we don’t confess-“ He tried again but you raised your hand, without even looking at him, and it was enough to shut him up.
Hyunjin had to admit it; he was impressed with how your whole body radiated with authority and power. They obeyed you as if they were scared of what you could possibly do to them if they utter one more wrong word.
“And I think,” A voice echoed right from behind Hyunjin. He realized too late that while he thought he was being discrete, someone else had spotted him and had a gun pointed right at his head. Shit.
“You should have this conversation somewhere else.” The man behind him finished.
You glanced over your shoulder. Instead of freezing on the spot or calling for him, you simply stared blankly at them. For once, Hyunjin couldn’t read you, couldn’t tell how you felt about seeing him here. And maybe it worried him a little. Whatever you were doing, he wondered if it was on Namjoon’s behalf. Would you compromise your mission to help him out?
“Walk.” The man behind him gave him a nudge, forcing Hyunjin to get closer to you.
Hyunjin tried to keep his cool, tried not to show how he truly felt but his heart was beating fast and loud inside his chest.
Hyunjin was shoved inside a room. He barely had time to react and to steady himself that a man punched him in the stomach. He stumbled and cursed under his breath. Maybe following you wasn’t his brightest idea after all. Despite the pain, he managed to have a proper look at you. To others, you looked cold, but he saw how your body was tense, your fists clenched. You weren’t indifferent after all and this small fact comforted him.
“What should we do with him?” One of them asked, eying you as if you were the one to decide.
“We should kill him.” Another suggested as he pointed at Hyunjin with his gun. Someone was eager to get rid of him. Hyunjin would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit worried for his safety. If you didn’t intervene, he would have to fight his way out.
Too concentrated on you, Hyunjin didn’t pay any attention to the other three men. He should have. One of them closed the distance between them and drove his knee into the back of Hyunjin’s, forcing him to the ground. Hyunjin groaned, his instincts wanting him to fight back – he didn’t. No, Hyunjin’s whole attention was only on you.
“Who sent you?” One of them crunched to his level but despite his closeness, Hyunjin’s eye were still on you. That, didn’t go unnoticed. The man punched his face, not liking Hyunjin’s behavior. “I asked you a question.”
“What make you think someone sent me?” Hyunjin finally answered but still was not looking at him. He was watching you. And only you. He didn’t want to miss any flinch, any twitch of your eyes, every twitch in your jaw. He wanted to see how you reacted to the violence. See if you cared. “Have you seen this lady?” Hyunjin pointed at you. “What make you think that I’m not here because of her? Because she had me completely bewitched?”
The man scoffed and straightened up. “This bastard is crazy.”
The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Nobody talked. Hyunjin because there was nothing left to say. You, because you were staring back at him. As for the men, they felt there was something going on but couldn’t understand it.
 “Leave us.” You ordered without looking at the men.
“Y/N. You don’t have time. Boss wants to see you.” One of them reminded you.
The only sign of your annoyance was your clenched jaw but you still weren’t looking at them.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You warned them.
But they weren’t listening to you. Or maybe they didn’t know you well enough not to push you. “Let us deal with him.”
A knife flew straight to the man’s shoulder making him cry out in pain and stumble.
“I’ll deal with him and then I’ll meet with boss.” You assured them with one deadly glare. “Now, get lost.”
And this time, they did.
Hyunjin had hoped you would drop your act with their absence, that you would explain yourself – except you didn’t. You stared at him with annoyance and already another knife in your hand.
Hyunjin got back on his feet. He wished he could come closer to you, could wrap his arms around you and make sure that everything was fine. But for once, he listened to the little voice in his head, telling him to stay alert. It wasn’t over yet.
“They respect you.”  He commented.
You shrugged and your eyes darted on your knife. “They do. Most of the time.”
“Who are they, Y/N?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to his question.
“Idiots working for the crows.”
Hyunjin’s breath hitched in his throat. “And their boss wants to see you.”
You tuck the knife back in your boot and took a deep breath. The situation couldn’t get any worse, but it somehow did. “Yes.”
There was one question that Hyunjin should be asking. One question that was right on the tip of his tongue and yet, he couldn’t do it. Asking it would complicate things.
“Ask it, Hyunjin.” As you grew nearer, Hyunjin’s heart beat faster. The way you looked at him, the way your body moved – it screamed danger. You halted right before him. Gently, you stroked his cheek.
Hyunjin didn’t want to ask because now he knew, the moment you would give him your answer; his bubble of happiness would burst for good. He did it anyway. “Are you working for the crows?”
Please, say no.
“Yes.”
Hyunjin barely had time to hear your answer. To understand it. Everything turned black.
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Rage nearly consumed you.
Hyunjin shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have been seen by these idiots. The moment Jun had pointed his gun at Hyunjin, you had to fight the need to step in and damn the consequences. But then, when Doyun forced Hyunjin on his knees, the urge to hurt someone got so strong, you weren’t sure what compelled you to keep your composure. From outside you had looked indifferent, cold, but inside? You were screaming and burning with the urge to kill and get Hyunjin far from this damn place.  
You were late and judging by how anxious the guys were, you could only imagine in what kind of mood the boss was. But you didn’t care. Not when another man occupied all your thoughts.
You pulled your phone from your pocket and dialed Jisung’s number. You prayed for his own good that he wouldn’t make you wait and answer the god damn phone. There was only one, insufferable person, who could have told Hyunjin where you were.
He answered. “Listen,” Jisung tried but you didn’t let him talk.
“Shut up! You little piece of shit!” You yelled, your grip on your phone was so strong, you wouldn’t be surprised if it cracked. “What were you thinking, Jisung?”
Jisung sighed on the other side. He had been your friend long enough to know that whatever excuses he would try to give you, in this state, you wouldn’t listen. You wouldn’t care. “Hello to you too, sunshine.” He chose to say instead.
He had a dead wish. “Don’t.” you warned him with a growl.
“Y/N…”
“What were you thinking?” You repeated again.
There was a loud noise from Jisung’s side, as if he had either pushed something or maybe smashed it. “He was worried, ok? What were you expecting me to tell him?”
“Anything! What if I was with my uncle?” You refused to imagine what could have possibly happened but your brain still did it. You closed your eyes, wanting to erase the image from your mind but it wouldn’t go. You kept seeing Hyunjin and the damn gun.
Your hand shook and at any moment you could let go of your phone. “He would have killed him on the spot, Ji. No question asked.”
Jisung didn’t say anything for a moment, proceeding your words. “And it bothers you?”
“Of course, it does!” The moment those words left your mouth, you realized two things: one, how true they sounded and two, you regretted admitting it to Jisung out of all people. You adored your friend, but he was noisy and would make sure to remind you every day your confession.
“Oh Y/N,” Jisung cooed, forgetting for a second that you were in a sour mood. “Do you actually like Hyunjin?”
Yes. But you held back those words. He didn’t need to know it. “You’re next on my shit list.” And you hung up.
He wasn’t really on your list. Would probably never be, but you didn’t mind him worrying over it.
You stared at your phone for a moment, considering your next step. The reasonable thing to do would go and meet with the boss as it was expected of you but one glance at the door behind you and your resolution wavered. You couldn’t leave Hyunjin unattended. You couldn’t let someone find him and hurt him.
Fuck it.
You opened your conversation with Chris and quickly texted him.
‘I need your help.’
***
Your uncle was indeed incredibly pissed. Not that you expected anything less and not that you could blame him. After all, he had been working on his little project for a year, making sure that everybody was on board with his plan. Making sure to drive Park Minjun in a corner, leaving him with no choice but beg for his help. And what help. A shitty contract. The control of his business in exchange for safety. If only he knew that his current situation was because of him.
Lee Beomseok, your uncle, and the boss of the crows. A man known for his business, for his methods, for his cruelty and zero bullshit policy. He was respected and feared in the underground world. Sometimes, you were impressed with his accomplishment. But most of the times, you wanted to see his world burn.
“Confess!” He yelled at the poor, shaking man at his feet. So maybe Jun wasn’t exaggerating when he said your uncle had finally lost it and started killing every suspect, even if it meant killing his own men.
“Please.” The man begged, his shaking only intensifying as your uncle pressed the gun harder to his head. “It’s not me. I would ne-“ But your uncle didn’t give a damn about his talk of loyalty. He shot the poor man in the head.
You whistled, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, a look of indifference on your face. “Someone is in a mood.”
You didn’t think his face could get any angrier but it did. The veins in his neck were showing, his face red. “Leave us!” he barked.
Nobody protested, they scurried away in fright.
Your uncle stared at you, his breath shallow. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, probably trying to calm himself down. You weren’t one of his men, his outbursts didn’t faze you. Not anymore. You weren’t ten anymore and he knew it.
“You were supposed to lead them astray.” He said after a moment of silence. He walked to his chair and took seat.
“I did.” You reminded him without bothering to look at him, instead you checked your nails, knowing damn well that your lack of reaction would only fuel his anger. Maybe it amused you a little to see him in this state, his composure long forgotten.
“Y/N.” He warned you.
“What?” You sighed and looked at him, “It’s not my fault if someone gave them your stupid contract and the list. How did you even manage to lose it?” Were you enjoying yourself reminding him his own failures? Absolutely.
You noticed how his left eye twitched at your words, you bet he wanted to grab his gun and shot you on the spot – he wouldn’t. After years of working for him, you knew he valued you too much to kill you.
He slumped further into his chair. “I’m still looking for the fucker who dared to betray me.”
You pushed yourself of the wall and took seat. “Where did you keep it?”
He looked at you, annoyed. “Where do you think?”
“Your safe then. Not many people know where you hide it.” You noted, “Maybe, instead of shooting all your poor men, you should look into your closest circle.” Not that he would find the traitor among them but you wouldn’t mind seeing him kill some of his trusted men.
He considered your advice for a moment and nodded his head. “When I find the traitor, I’ll make him pay his mistake.” He promised.
Except he would never find the traitor. For two simple reasons. One, he underestimated his own son too much and two you made sure while Yeonjun was helping you to steal from his old daddy, Jisung erased all traces of him ever being present in this place.
“Do you need my help?”
Your uncle shook his head. “No. I need you to take care of some business partners who became too bold.”
Of course, the answer to all his problems was always to kill.
“How should I deal with them?”
“Do what you do best.”
A small smile spread on your face. His order was clear. But there was something else you were better at. He just didn’t know it yet.
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Hyunjin woke up with his head killing him. It took him a moment to force his eyes to open. He tried to straighten himself in the bed, only to groan in pain. Fuck my life. He palmed his forehead, trying to sooth the pain.
It took him another five minutes to notice his surroundings.
A room. A very unfamiliar room. And then everything flashed through his mind.
The bar. You. The crows. You. Him almost dying because he cared too much. Him being an idiot. You. A damn spy right under their noses.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
His head was no longer the only thing that hurt. His chest. His heart clenching so tightly, he thought he could die. Hyunjin couldn’t breathe properly with all the thoughts and images running wild in his head. And yet, with his panic came one realization.
He was still alive.
Hyunjin forced his breath to slow down and had a proper look at his surroundings. It was clear to him that he was no longer in the bar. The room was too nice and looked to expensive. Had he been taken prisoner?
Hyunjin climbed off the bed and slowly approached the door, expecting that any second someone would pop out of nowhere and attack him and finish the job.
None of that happened.
He tried the door and surprisingly it was unlocked which left Hyunjin even more confused. Was he not a prisoner? Why would they let him roam free? With this thought on mind, he left his room, trying not to make any sound until he was certain that he wasn’t in danger.
Hyunjin’s confusion grew with every step he took. The place he was being held in was really too nice and looked expensive. He quickly realized it wasn’t a house but a damn penthouse. Would the crows keep him in a place like this? He doubted.
Instead of finding a stranger or you, Hyunjin found Chris on his phone, wearing comfortable clothes. That was not how he expected things to turn out.
“Oh. Good, you’re awake.” Chris offered him a comforting smile. “How’s your head?”
Hyunjin opened his mouth and closed it right away. He didn’t know what to say, what to ask. Nothing made sense anymore. He went for the easy answer, “I’ll survive.”
Chris hummed. “She didn’t need to smash your head so hard. But then again, it’s Y/N we’re talking about.”
“Why am I alive?” Hyunjin asked. It was the question that had been plaguing his mind the most.
Chris looked confused for a second. He cocked his brow, “Why shouldn’t you be?”
Because you had betrayed them all. Because while Hyunjin was slowly falling in love, you were only using him as a distraction and a means to an end. And yet, despite your harsh words, he was alive and safe. It bothered him and left him with even more questions.
“Because none of it was real.” Hyunjin finally admitted.
Chris got back on his feet and slowly approached him. “You’re alive because most of it was real.”
Hyunjin wanted to protest but Chris was right. He was alive which had to mean something. “You knew.” He said instead.
“Which part exactly?”
“That I couldn’t be her husband. And that she’s working for the crows.” The first time Hyunjin had met Chris, he had thought the man was suspicious because there was something going on between him and you. But maybe, he was wrong. Maybe, it had everything to do with Chris knowing exactly who you were.
“I had my suspicions for the husband part. But honestly, knowing Y/N, I wouldn’t be completely surprised either. As for the last part.” Chris paused and for a second it seemed to Hyunjin that he was somewhere else, lost in a memory. But then, his smile widened, his dimples showing up. “Yes. I wouldn’t have met her otherwise. She saved my ass.”
Chris put his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder and gave it a strong yet comforting squeeze. “I think you know by now that our little Y/N is a little crazy and dangerous. She has been working her ass off to get what she wants. She was ready to sacrifice everything and everybody in exchange for her revenge. But not you.”
It was obvious by now that Chris knew everything about you. It would have bothered him another time, but now it comforted him more than he was willing to admit. Your betrayal still left him confused and hurt, but he found solace in his words.
Chris’s eyes softened while observing him. “She asked me to get you out and keep you safe for a while. But I figured you’d need some company, so I called for back-ups. They should arrive shortly.”
****
When Chris mentioned back-ups, Hyunjin didn’t think much of it, mainly because he had no clue who could help him out. Turns out, Chris knew exactly who Hyunjin needed to see. How he knew Jisung, Hyunjin could guess. But Namjoon? That was a whole new mystery for him to figure out.
“Dude, you look like shit.” Jisung commented and playfully patted his cheeks.
Hyunjin swatted his hands away from his face. He should probably feel concerned that Jisung kept telling him how bad he looked, but he was too tired and not in the mood for his playfulness. “Oh, fuck you.”
If he thought Jisung would be offended, he was wrong. Jisung chuckled and glanced at Chris, sharing a knowing look. “Sounds a lot like her.”
Namjoon sighed. “I think I need a drink. Or two.” As if Chris had sensed his need, he brought him a glass of what looked like whiskey and a second one for himself. “Thank you. Did you hear from her?”
Chris shook his head as he took a sip. “Not since I confirmed her I retrieved Hyunjin from the bar.”
While they talked, Hyunjin listened and watched. They all seemed so relaxed, unbothered and friendly with each other. And Hyunjin just couldn’t understand why. He never would have guessed that Jisung and Namjoon would actually meet outside of work. Scratch that, he wasn’t even aware they talked, despite Namjoon being their boss.
Sensing Hyunjin’s eyes on him, Namjoon stopped talking and instead approached him. “I have something for you.” He took out his phone and shoved it into his hands. “It’s all the information I have on Y/N.”
Hyunjin hesitated for only a second. Or maybe two. He started reading, surprised Namjoon had so much on her. After his encounter with you, Hyunjin didn’t know what to expect but every word he read about you made his heart clench painfully. A happy family torn apart by a terrible accident which left you an orphan at such young age.
“Lee Beomseok is her uncle. He took her in after her parents’ death.” Namjoon stopped his reading. “Instead of giving her a loving family, he raised her to become a killer. His personal weapon.”
No wonder they respected and feared her so much.
“He made sure she was the best at everything. And she is.” Namjoon continued, “But despite knowing how clever she was, he underestimated her.”
Hyunjin could barely imagine what life was for you. You were just a child, grieving, and yet forced to become something that was not in your nature. Hyunjin’s heart ached for your lost childhood, for the little girl turned into a killer for someone’s greediness.
“What changed?” Hyunjin asked. They hadn’t confirmed him that you weren’t a villain in the story, but it was implied.
“She found out he killed her parents.” Chris was the one to answer his question.
“What?” Hyunjin couldn’t believe it.
Namjoon nodded, confirming Chris’s words. “Being the closest to him, she could have easily killed him. But Y/N plays the long game. When he asked her to infiltrate our ranks, she saw it as an opportunity.”
“And you let her?” Hyunjin had a hard time believing that. Namjoon seemed as someone who always went by the rules. But apparently, Hyunjin was wrong once again.
“Oh believe me, I wanted to arrest her the moment she told me who she was.” Namjoon confessed, his eyes on his glass as he swirled the whiskey around in his glass, a small smile on his face. “But she was hella convincing.”
Yeah, he bet you were.
***
When Jisung and Namjoon left, Hyunjin returned to his room. He needed some time alone, even if he appreciated Chris’s company and willingness to answer almost all his questions. He needed to think, to proceed with all the information he had heard tonight about you.
Tonight, Hyunjin realized just how strong you were. Not only physical strength but also mentally. You managed to hide all your hatred, anger and resentment for years for the man only to have a chance to watch his empire crumble. But also, he admired how despite all the ugliness and death you had witnessed through the years, you still saw the good in people and the world.
Only one question remained. What of you two?
Before Hyunjin could dwell on the matter, he heard familiar voices from afar. Your voice. You were back and safe. It should have been enough for him, for now. But no. Bewitched, he followed your voice.
“You should talk to him.” Chris advised you.
You disregarded your jacket along with your gun and few knives. “That’s not a good idea.”
You didn’t look like yourself. Your hair was a mess. Dark circles under your eyes. He wondered how long he had been unconscious because you looked exhausted and unsteady. At least, you weren’t hurt.
Chris sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. “Stop being a coward.” You snarled in response, eyes shooting daggers. But Chris wasn’t impressed with your attempt at intimidating him. “You care for him and he cares for you. Don’t run away from something good in your life.”
“Me caring for someone never ends well.” You whispered and avoided his eyes.
“I disagree.” Chris put his hands on your shoulders and gave it a squeeze. “Yeonjun would disagree too.”
“You know it will put a target on his back.” You protested.
Hyunjin decided that you should have this conversation with him and not Chris. He couldn’t hide his presence any longer. “I think; I have a say in this.”
Chris didn’t seem surprised seeing him in the room. Or maybe he had spotted him from the beginning and was trying to make you confess so Hyunjin would know how you truly felt. You, on the other hand, froze on the spot. You couldn’t look at him.
Chris walked to Hyunjin, patted his back and smiled. “Good luck.”
Yeah, he would need it.
For a while, you looked everywhere but at him. It annoyed Hyunjin that you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t talk to him. After everything they went through together, he didn’t think you would try to avoid a confrontation.
Hyunjin considered what he should say. Ask about your life with the crows? Ask about your family? Or should he just ask what he meant to you? Now, he knew that you cared more than you were willing to admit and this thought comforted him. Not everything was a lie. Not everything was a game.
“Namjoon told me your story.” Hyunjin finally said and started walking toward you.
That got a reaction from you. Your eyes widened in surprise. “Namjoon was here?”
Hyunjin nodded. “Chris called Namjoon and Jisung. He figured I’d need their help to understand.” And then another step toward you. But you, you took a step back, trying to keep the distance between the two of you. As if it would stop Hyunjin.
More you tried to escape and more it amused him. Until there was nowhere else to go. You had your back pressed to the wall and Hyunjin stood right before you, giving you no choice but to look at him.
“Stop it.” You put your hands on his chest and gave it a push. He didn’t budge. “Hyunjin.”
“I’m sorry he stole your childhood.” He said instead. His voice soft. Compassionate.
You averted your eyes. You didn’t want to see the emotions in his eyes. You didn’t want him to convince you there was a something out there for the two of you. “Don’t be.”
“You deserve to be happy too, Y/N.”
“I’ll be happy if you stay away from me.” You snapped and looked at him. The need to push him away was strong but the moment your eyes locked, your heart missed a beat. Despite your outburst, Hyunjin was smiling fondly at you. “There’s something incredibly wrong with you, Hwang.”
Hyunjin chuckled, agreeing with you. He leaned closer, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re a very bad influence.”
You sucked in a breath. “Even more reasons for you to stay away from me.”
He hummed. His lips brushed yours, so lightly, it could have been your imagination. “I don’t want to. And I don’t think you really want me to either.” And then another press of his lips, this time a little stronger. “You can’t get rid of me now.”
“I’m going to kick you.” You threatened. You would do no such things. Not when he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Or punch you.” You sounded less and less convincing. With every small kiss, your resolution crumbled.
But then he stopped. Hyunjin grabbed your chin, his grip strong. “You’re not getting rid of me, Y/N.”
“When did you get so bold?”
“When I realized I fell for you.” Hyunjin admitted. There was no point denying it. No point hiding it. Despite knowing now everything you had done, some terrible things to get what you wanted, Hyunjin couldn’t deny how he felt. Couldn’t unsee the good person hiding in you. “That’s why, my lovely, murderous, Y/N, there’s no getting rid of me.”
Slowly, you pushed yourself from the wall and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You are in trouble, Hwang.”
“Worth it.”
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Hi :) Uhmm ... I like how you write, these past few days it become my obsession and joy. ( I am so sorry, I am so bad at giving compliments!)
Uhmmm .... If I may be so bold I would like to share an idea? I just thought about absolutely cocky and arogant male, womanizer Cerberos. The reader has love/hate relationship towards him. Well and after one wild party, he would corner reader and showed them his true form. And holding onto his word to rock reader´s world (quite literally)
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Hi! I'm so glad you enjoy my content, it means the world. Sorry for the long wait, adult life sucks so bad. Also, I added the anon question, hope you don’t mind. The idea that Cerberus is the one you hit on when tipsy sounds so cute to let it pass. I took the liberty to make cerberus a type of monster, so they’re just one of them and not THE cerberus, you know. I imagine they’re like a werewolf but with three heads, and like not human form, just a wolfy-guy with three heads. Each head talks separately, but in this there’s no difference between them to not make it hard to follow, but I think it’s quite good. Hope you enjoy! <3
Three heads are better than one
Cerberus (they/them) x fem!reader || fingering, public sex, dirty talk
When a cerberus started to work on your law firm, you two hit it the wrong way from the start. You were a top tier lawyer and they couldn’t understand that a human could be better than them. Three heads think better than one, how could a puny human like you be better than them? But you were, and it infuriated them. But it also fueled your banter with so much sexual tension you could taste it. But you didn’t do anything about it because everyone at the office knew they were a womanizer, they had a new girl every few days and never dated anyone. They were just there for the sex. Or that’s what everyone at the office said. But dang you wanted to hit it off with them so bad, you needed to know what their three mouths tasted like, how would it be to have three brains focused on your pleasure… That sounded delicious in the best possible way.
So when you catch them and their friends in a bar, after a few drinks, you think it’s time. You approach them and their friends at the end of the bar, ready to do something about your pent up sexual tension. You two have been dancing around each other for what feels like ages, and your tipsy brain thinks the best moment to do something about it is right now, right there. When you get closer, you can hear their friends making fun of them and elbowing them as they all giggle, pointing at you. You add a little bit of movement to your hips and hope it doesn’t look too ridiculous.
“Hi darling, how’s your night going?” You touch their pecs as all three of their heads focus on you. You blush, but keep caressing their torso over their shirt, you squeeze a bit and they slap your hand softly.
“Human, get lost.” You can’t understand how their voice can sound so harsh and so sexy at the same time, you can feel your panties melting. Maybe the alcohol has a part to blame, drinking always made you horny, and today is not different.
You pout, bating your lashes in your best puppy look. “Why are you always so mean?” Their three heads blink slowly at you, almost took out balance by your question.
“What? We’re not mean, you are just too soft,” they answer. You scoff, if they want to play that game you can give as better as receive. Uh, receiving… That’s exactly what you want. In a sexy way, against a wall if possible. They look like they can lift you up and fuck you.
“I’m not soft. I’m human. And you are mean.” You think you heard him say something about how they’re already aware that you are human, but you aren’t sure, the bar is really loud and the world is spinning around you.
“You need to go away before we do something all of us would regret.” Their central head is the one doing the talking, but the other two nod along.
“I don’t want to.” You know you sound bratty and entitled, but you are horny and everyone says they’re a womanizer, why are they not womanizing you? “You don’t like humans, is that it?”
“Trust me, they like humans. They like them reeeeeal good.” One of their friends says behind them. All of them laugh, but your coworkers are looking at you like they are going to dig a hole through your body just with their eyes.
“Come with me.” They sound fed up, like they are going to scold you and it’s going to feel awful. But your tipsy brain doesn’t process it fully, so you follow them without questioning. They lead you to the back of the bar, the hallway that leads to the bathroom. The music is softer there, you can listen to your own brain better.
They push you against the wall, they body pressing against your front. You shiver, anticipation filling your guts and their low growl making you whimper. “We can smell how wet you are, we can almost taste your desire. You are too tempting for your own good, honey.” You think the pet name was condescending every time they used it before, but at that moment, it sounds like a caress.
Their hands found the edge of your skirt as they grab your leg and position it against their hip. You are open and exposed, your skirt riding up and your soaked panties in the open. You whine again. You never felt as dirty and naughty as you do now, it’s maddening. They cress the outside of your thigh as they rock their hips against you, letting you feel their cock through your panties. You moan loudly.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please.” You know you’d be embarrassed beyond belief about it the next morning, but right now you don’t care. You can only think about how good their finger feels inside of you, and how much you wish that was their cock. When they move your panties to the side and push one finger inside your needy pussy, you cry out.
“Not here, little human.” They press against your G-spot, making your knees buckle under you. They grab your waist and holds you pressed against the wall as you pant. “If tomorrow you feel like this again, then we can talk.” They said, their fingers slowly thrusting into you.
“What?” You ask, trying to focus on their words and not the wonders they’re doing on your pussy. Their thumb rolls over your clit and you have to bite on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. It feels so good. You start to move your hips at the rhythm of their thrusts.
“We’ve been waiting forever to get your attention, We’re not wasting it on a quick fuck on a bar.” Their voice sounds serious and you feel confused as fuck. What are they talking about? They hate you, they always pick stupid fights with you over the silliest things.
“What?” You ask, trying to grab their hand but holding onto their shoulders, moving your hips faster. The rational part of you is not present, only your whore-ish part.
“We’ve been waiting to ask you out but we thought you wouldn’t want us.” They mutter that under their breath, you barely catch it.
“What?” You ask, once more. Are they saying they like you? They wanted to ask you out? But… But the gossip. They said they didn’t date, you never saw them with anybody, just random hookups. “What?” You ask again.
“You… We… We have a bit of a human kink with you, okay? You are so soft and so pretty. We can’t stop thinking about you. And then you get up in front of the judge and good lord do you look good. You look magnificent.” Their voice sounds amazed, like they are telling the truth and they truly like you. What the fuck?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your question is lost when their thumb starts rubbing against your clit. You think they answer something, but your brain is fuzzy with pleasure. “Stop touching my clit I can’t focus.” You whisper, trying to look at them and see if they aren’t lying. There’s no way they want you, is it?
“What if we don’t want you to focus? What if we want you coming around our fingers until you are crying out how much you love it? How much you like being stretched in public by us?” You moan so loud they have to cover your mouth with their unoccupied hand. “Shhh, be quiet. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” Your pussy involuntarily clenches around their fingers. “Oh, naughty girl, you do want to get caught. Does that excite you? Do you want everyone to see how improper you really are? You are such a good lawyer but then you part your legs for us in the back of the bar… Such a dirty, dirty woman.” You shiver, your juices flowing around their fingers. You’ve never been as turned on as you are right there, their fingers feel divine and you are so fucking close.
“Please…” Your plea sounds pathetic and you blush, but they just smirk at you, two of their heads attacking your neck at the same time. Feeling the two sets of mouths against your neck combined with the feel of their fingers moving inside of you is getting you so wet their hand is making filthy sounds.
“You are so wet for us, so soft. I bet you taste amazing. We are going to spend so much time licking you. Do you know what they say about cerberus?” You shake your head. “We give the best head because we have three of them. Do you want to feel three tongues against your pussy, honey? Do you want to be worshiped by three heads?” The image they are painting in your head is so good you want to open your legs and ask them to do it right there. But you are so close already, their fingers feel so fantastic inside of you.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rolling your hips. They accompany your movement, getting you almost to the edge.
“Are you going to come for us? Are you going to be a good woman and come around our fingers? We can’t wait to feel you around our dicks, bet you are going to feel better than any pussy we ever had. Our first human. Our only human. What are you gonna do, honey? Do you want to suck us off?” You nod eagerly, so close. “Of course you want to, you want to be a good little human for us.” You get the feeling them calling you human is doing more for them than for you. Their human kink is playing in your favor. “Come for us, human.” They whisper against your ear as the other two heads suck on your neck.
The combination of fingers and mouths makes your body shake uncontrollably against theirs, your orgasm so good you almost fall down. You can feel your juices dripping down and soaking your panties and their fingers. They take their fingers away and you watch in amazement as they raise their hand to lick it, all three of their heads getting some. You moan as aftershocks rock your body.
They put your panties back in place and slowly lower your leg. Your legs are shaky and you grab onto their arm. Three heads smile down at you, one of them looking specially smug. They pass an arm over your shoulders and help you walk out of the hallway. “Let us take you home.” They whisper, their hold on you so hard it feels wonderful. It feels so good you could fall asleep right there. They gave you the orgasm of your life and on top of it, they are sweet about it. You judged them so bad you feel like shit. You can always make it up to them at some point. You add it to your mental list of things to do in the morning, even though you know you won’t remember.
“There’s no need.” You try to argue, without any force behind your words. You really want to spend more time with them.
“We want to.” Their voice is final, you know that tone. That’s the tone they use in court, and you know you can’t win against it.
They drive you home as you fidget with your rings, nervous after what happened, after what they said. You want to run, to break the silence, but you are speechless. You don’t know what to say and the alcohol you had is kicking you really hard. You feel sleepy and tired, more than ready to go to bed.
They follow you to your house, opening your door and leading you to your bedroom where they help you get undressed. You think they are going to do something more, but they barely touch your naked body as they cover you with a blanket.
You feel three soft forehead kisses before they say: “We aren’t playing games with you, honey. We want to play with your pussy, yes, but not with your heart. We hope you give us a chance.” You nod, and try to answer, but your eyes are so heavy that you can’t keep them open, your brain shutting down.
When you wake up the next morning with a text saying: “We can’t wait to have you sucking our cock. And then we can go to dinner, we booked the fancy restaurant you like.” You giggle on your pillow and kick your legs. Yeah… That sounds like the start of a very fun game.
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studioghibelli · 2 days
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a tale of two cities | a cooper howard x reader
summary: you’ve been kidnapped by the Big Man. a certain bounty hunter comes to rescue you.
warnings: inaccurate fallout lore, obvious age gap, pre-established relationship, mentions of virginity, angst central, very brief allusions to previous sexual encounters, etc.
notes: wanted to try out a different writing style with this one. don’t know how i feel about it just yet! hope y’all enjoy, i love my sexy bone man so much.
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“-Well now, you see what we got here, don’tcha? Young female, vital organs intact, high egg count-“
“What do you know about my eggs?”
In unison came a harsh “Shhh!”
You stood behind a counter of an “organ bank” that you knew was a front for something or another, eyelids heavy with annoyance as you listened to your captor bicker with the festering attendee.
“Can you please get this over with?” You were practically begging, knees sore from the long journey, and tongue dry from a lack of water.
“Didn’t your daddy ever teach you to keep your mouth shut when others were talking?” A man with a ratty face and browning teeth glared at you, the bowie knife in his hand glistening with the promise of an oncoming cut if you kept running your mouth.
You looked down at the ground, kicking at a pile of rubbish. You couldn’t help yourself when you muttered: “I never knew my daddy.”
“Bitch!” The man snarled, holding the blade of his knife to your throat.
The attendee at the counter stood up, placing a hand on your captors arm. “Now, now, Isaac. You know the Big Man doesn’t like his women all scratched up in the face.”
This supposed Isaac shot you a chilling look, before retracting his blade. The attendee spoke again. “I can give you seventy-five caps.”
“Seventy-five? You’ve got to be kidding me, man. This one’s worth at least ninety.”
“Ninety? She’s got a scratch, right there-” The attendee pointed in your general direction, muttering something or another about the Big Man.
You stood there, crossing your arms and staring at the ceiling. You counted each speck in the tearing paint, getting up to 962 different splatters, before they had finally reached an agreement. Apparently, you were worth 83 caps.
Hmm. Not bad.
“Alright ma’am, follow me. Right this way.”
You followed the mystery person, turning to glance over your shoulder. The ratty captor twirled his fingers at you, glancing down to shuffle through his caps. You snapped him your middle finger, rolling your eyes as you tripped over your own two feet.
Big Man was not a name you had ever heard of, and to be frank, you had no clue what was going to come to you. At best, you’d have a kidney taken out, and at worst you’d be sliced up for sandwich meat.
“So…. what is this place?” You asked.
“A breeding center.”
You stopped dead in your tracks. You were sure your eyes were about to pop and roll right out of their sockets. “A what now?”
“A breeding center.” The attendee repeated it as though it were the most normal thing in the world. “The Big Man has goals for our side of the Wasteland, you know. It all starts with young women and his seed.”
“I think I’m going to vomit.”
“Oh, please don’t do that, miss. The Big Man hates bodily fluids.”
“Apparently all bodily fluids.” You muttered, your feet dragging as you followed.
The man stopped at an iron door, motioning with his hand towards the entrance. “You may enter in to his office now. Have a good day!”
You were face to face with your apparent destiny. Behind that door, you weren’t too sure what horrors awaited you. A gigantic, gnarled, half-radioactive man who was more monster than human? A charming megalomaniac with a penchant for collecting limbs? It could be anyone, anything, for all you were certain of.
But enough guessing, now it was time to get your hands dirty. And other places too, apparently. With a deep breath you pushed the door open, coming face to face with….
The shortest man you had ever seen.
He had a blonde bowl cut and icy blue eyes, plump pink lips and freckles across his nose. The top of his head probably stopped at your breasts, and he wore a black leather jacket that was stained by the sun.
“Ah, there you are, miss.” He spoke like a toddler, his speech inflections odd and hard on the ears.
Enter: Sarcasm. The man exuded sex, really.
You didn’t know what else to do. You stood there blinking, unable to form any coherent sentences.
This was the Big Man? You could reach your hand out, place your palm on his forehead, and stop him from touching you, like a child trying to pester an adult. The thought made a smile grace the corner of your lips.
“You’re…. uh- you’re the Big Man?”
“Yes.” When he nodded, his hair swayed in unison with his movements. It was almost mesmerizing.
“Um… okay. So do I just- do I take my clothes off here?”
“Ew. No. That’s not how we do things around here.”
“But the guy outside told me it was a-”
“Yes. We will artificially inseminate you.”
You sat yourself down in a seat, staring at him as you tried to process everything. “What…. the fuck.”
“I know this is a lot to take in, miss, but rest assured you will get the upmost care here.” Big Man smiled at you, clasping his hands together as he tottered over to his chair. “Now, I just have a few questions to ask you.”
“Uh, sure. Go ahead.”
“Age?”
You answered him, still not fully there as you took in the room. Book shelves lined with tearing pages, framed photos from days gone by, bottle caps and vials spread about- it was the room of a rich man, that much you knew for certain.
“Do you have all your organs?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Very good!” He smiled, writing something down on his paper. “Okay, yes. Let’s see here… oh! Yes. Of course. Are you a virgin?”
“What?” You scoffed, almost insulted that he would ask.
“It’s a simple question we need for our records. You won’t get in trouble if you’re not. Well…. maybe a little trouble.” He pinched his fingers in the air, a mischievous giggle escaping his lips.
You were half tempted to lie, but also half tempted to see what would happen if you were honest.
The truth was- you were definitely not a virgin. Your eyes settled on an inhaler of drugs in the corner, your head swarming with thoughts of your Ghoul, of his hands, of his tongue.
Your eyelids fluttered shut for a moment.
“Hey there, little lady.” His voice was imprinted in to your brain, the twang of his words, the smell of his clothes. “What do we have here?” He eyed you as he inhaled the last supply of his vial, tongue sweeping across his lower lip.
You were splayed out on the desk of the abandoned building, legs spread, open and tantalizing for him.
“Here to serve you your dinner.” You whispered, shooting him a sultry wink. “Mr. Howard.” You added with a giggle.
Cooper had nearly pounced on you then and there, his head buried in your thighs in record time. His nails dug deliciously in to your skin, and your hands cradled his smooth head as he devoured your arousal, allowing your taste to burn in to his tongue.
“Um… I am…uh.” You were flustered now, and you couldn’t help but fan yourself with a spare piece of paper beside you. “No. No, I am not a virgin.” You finally stated.
“What?!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “That’s not good. Not good at all.”
“Hey! You just said-”
“Terms and contracts my dear, terms and contract. Oh, this is not good at all. Not good. Well, we’re just going to have to dispose of you. Ugh. It’s so hard to find a clean woman out in these horrors.” He was moaning out in annoyance now, his voice pitiful and low. Blah, blah, blah. It all sounded the same to you.
You scoffed. “Whatever. I never even signed a contract.”
Big Man walked over to his intercom. “Keegan, we have another dud. Send in the reinforcements.” He spoke, eyeing you through narrowed, angry lids.
A few moments passed, and Keegan, who you assumed was the festering attendee that had walked you down to his office, had yet to respond.
“Keegan?” Big Man said into the intercom. “Answer me, my little peanut.”
God, this guy was weird. You stared at him with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow, trying your hardest to take this situation seriously. Okay, maybe not your hardest.
“Maybe a roach got him.” You shrugged, and the little man looked at you, scoffing as he shuffled through his drawers.
“He’s useless to me anyways. I’ll just have to do the dirty work myself.”
Neither of you had paid attention to the door opening, but soon the smell of gunpowder and dirt filled your nostrils.
You knew who it was without having to turn around.
“Allow me, my good dir.” The figure behind you purred, and you heard the sound of a lasso unhooking from a belt. In five seconds flat, Big Man was on his belly, wrapped tight in a rope.
“Cooper.” You muttered, giving him a glance from the corner of his eye.
“Little lady.” He greeted you back with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “Knife or gun?”
“You asking me or him?”
“You.”
“Gun. He doesn’t like bodily fluids.”
There was a scoff. “Always were fuckin’ soft.”
A gunshot ricocheted through the walls, followed by a head thudding against the wood flooring. When you turned, the Ghoul was standing there, a hand on his hip as he inspected the chipped tip of his pistol.
You hadn’t seen him for months. You had gotten in to a fight, he had thrown some low handed insults your way, and it ended in a wrestling match that had you shaking sand from various crevices of your body for the weeks to come. The lonely, Ghoul-free weeks.
And to be honest, you had missed him. You had missed his dark eyes, his southern drawl, his witty quips. You had missed the way he’d hold you beside your fires, the way he’d practically dance with you while you were fighting off raiders and monsters.
With him, you had known some of the happiest times of your life. But according to Cooper, you were nothing but a distraction, a good time in the middle of a shit storm.
The thought made you scoff.
Yeah, just a good time. That’s why he just saved your ass. Well…. “saved.” There wasn’t much to save you from, and yet, he did.
“Why are you here?”
“Vials and caps in here.”
“How’d you know about it?”
Cooper rolled his eyes, turning to look at you over his shoulder. “I got my ways. Now leave me alone.”
“Leave you alone?” You scoffed, picking up a half broken figurine off the Big Man’s desk. You chucked it at his broad back, watching the fickle glass shatter against it.
He turned around in record speed, picking something off his desk and throwing it at you in return. You dodged it easily. “Don’t fuck with me today.” He warned, pointing the tip of his gun towards you. “I mean it.”
“Yeah right.”
Your name tumbled off his mouth low and slow, like a warning growl from a predator in the night. Your stomach turned, and you knew he was being serious, his barred teeth sent in your direction said it all. But for some reason you wanted to antagonize him, you wanted to make him feel pain. You wanted him to feel the way you had been feeling for what seemed like an eternity.
When he turned his back towards you once again, shuffling through boxes and shoving caps into his pockets, you picked up a dusty book, staring at the cover.
A Tale of Two Cities.
Raising your arm behind your head, you threw it square in the middle of Coop’s back, knocking him forward with a raspy grunt.
In two seconds flat you were tied up in his lasso and thrown to the floor, his weight resting on your body as he straddled your hips and pinned your hands above your head. His forehead was on yours, and he was growling through gritted teeth like a hungry tiger.
“Now, I gave you a warnin’, pumpkin. I think that was pretty fair of me.” His voice was deep, angry, and his eyes were aflame. “Don’t you?”
You struggled beneath his grip, gasping out for air as you kneed his stomach. He grunted out, the tips of his fingers digging uncomfortably into your wrist at the intrusion.
“Don’t you?” He repeated.
You finally gave up your futile attempts to struggle against him, your neck falling back against the floor. You stared at the speckles on the ceiling, swallowing. These days it seemed you didn’t have that much fight left in you. Exhausted seeped from your bones with every waking moment.
“Yes.” You whispered.
He hummed out in satisfaction at your response. “Thatta girl.”
His gloved finger traced over the edge of your jaw, and he breathed out quietly. His spare hand moved down your arm, tangling itself in your hair as the air grew thick with silence.
The Ghoul hummed out as his gaze traced over you, and you were unsure what emotion had befallen his features. He had always worn a mask of gruffness, of some dark, distant passed that you had never personally known.
“Should I kill you?” He asked quietly, an index finger tracing across your lower lip.
You were quiet, watching him examine you, as if he hadn’t spent countless hours getting to know every inch of you. Your body, your scent, your laugh- it was engrained into his brain. There was a you shaped crater in his chest. He was unsure how you managed to slip past his defenses, but you had.
He had become careless in his old age.
Yet despite it all, what a wonderful creature you were, to be careless with.
Cooper’s thumb was digging in to the dip of your cheek as he awaited your answer. “Should I?”
“I love you.”
The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, and you both stared at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what had gotten in to you.
“You what?!” 
“Ohh my God. Oh my God.” You were panicking now, unsure of why you would ever admit to something as embarrassing as that.
Cooper sat up, still straddling you, and looked up at the ceiling as he searched for words. He placed his hands on his hips, no doubt calculating what his next move would be.
Your next sentences were spoken in unison:
“Why would I say that?”
“Why would you say that?”
His eyes were stirring with emotions you had rarely seen him wear so evidently. Guilt, annoyance, bitterness- no longer was he the smooth talking cowboy. Not right now.
No. Right now, he had no idea what to do, no idea what to say. Hundreds of years of roaming the wasteland had not prepared him for this. Whatever… this was.
You sat up on your elbows, cocking your head to the side. Your thoughts were flooded by that night. The night you had seen him last, before he had knocked down the door to this office less than thirty minutes ago.
The campfire was crackling, a roasted slab of meat sizzling atop the embers. It had been a long day. An exhausting day. You were hungry, annoyed, tired.
The wasteland was full of assholes and cannibals, and it seemed on some days that they were all out to get you, and only you. The sound of boots behind you stirred you from your thoughts, and you smiled at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey trouble maker.” The Ghoul’s voice was quiet, tired, you knew he was aching after a long day, you knew no matter how much sleep he got, it never seemed to be enough.
“What if you never find them?” You asked quietly, poking at the flames with the handle of your gun.
“I will.”
“But…. how do you know?”
“I’ve loved her for two hundred years. I’ll love her for two hundred more if that’s what it takes.” He turned to look at you, and you knew he was telling the truth.
You swallowed thickly, jealousy coursing through your veins. You were the one who had been by his side for five years. You were the one who got him out of trouble, you were the one that had been there for him day and night, traveling the wasteland together, fighting off hoards of ungodly, unspeakable creatures.
And yet, despite it all, despite all the blood, the wounds, the sleepless nights- he only seemed to care about her. His ex-wife. The woman who had helped cause the end of this world.
“Who says she has?”
He turned to look at you, daggers shot in your direction. A silent warning to tread carefully- a warning you both knew you would not heed.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve loved her for all these years. How do you know she has, too? She doesn’t strike me as the loyal type, considering she’s part of the reason we’re here. You’re radioactive, I’m being hunted, the world around us is falling apart. To be quite honest, Cooper Howard, I’m not so fucking sure why you’re still hung up on her!” You had never been so heated, you had never raised your voice like this with him- but your ever growing resentment towards his mission had been festering for far too long, and now it was bubbling up at the surface.
That night he took you by the throat, holding until you saw stars. He offered you no words, he only choked you until he was sure he’d kill you. But something inside him wouldn’t allow for that.
What a horrible choice that was.
You slammed your heel into his groin, watching as he tumbled to the ground. With a mighty roar he tackled you, a face full of sand coming your way as he rolled you on to your stomach. While attempting to tie your wrists you squirmed away, kicking your knee into his chin.
For what felt like hours you two tangoed, wrestling until you were bound to give up. In a way, it was the most honest exchange you had ever experienced with him.
Two tired humans, fighting for something neither of them truly understood. It bordered erotic, the way your bodies moved and pressed, the way his blood tasted in your mouth, the way your skin felt between his teeth.
By the end of the night you both were laying down in a tangled heap beside the dying fire, and when you awoke the following morning, Cooper was gone.
In the dingy light of the office room, the memories of that night flooded your memory. You still had a healing wound on your neck the shape of his incisors, and your arms were calloused by the crusty scabs caused by his fingernails.
Above you, the Ghoul swallowed thickly. His hand moved from where it rested at his side, and he pressed it flat against your chest. For a moment he allowed it to rise and fall with each of your breaths, focusing on the feeling of your heartbeat on his palm.
“You’re a pain in my ass.” He whispered, sucking a rush of air in through his teeth. “Always have been.”
“Are you leaving me again?”
“No.” A long moment passed before he spoke again. “Because she was my wife.” He muttered beneath his breath.
“What?”
“That night. You asked me why I kept lookin’ for her. Because she was my wife.”
“Was?”
He looked at you, blinking slowly. “Was.” He repeated quietly, as though he had just discovered something he didn’t want to. The truth of the matter was- he had.
“Coop.” You whispered, cupping his face in your hands. His skin was rough and leathery beneath your fingertips, worn and aged by the harsh test of time.
“Did you mean it?”
“That I love you?” He nodded. “Yes.”
Cooper stared at you with sad, distant eyes. “I’d love you back if I could, sugar.”
“You-you could.”
He shook his head slowly, the brim of his hat gingerly shaking around his head. His finger traced shapes along the ridge of your brow. “I can’t. I don’t got anymore left in me. Been searchin’ for the same thing for so long, don’t think I can change my ways.”
Cooper eased off of you, sitting down beside you. His hand rested on your thigh, and you placed your own over it, staring up at the ceiling once more.
You counted 836 speckles before he spoke again.
“I can’t give you lovin’ but I can give you protection. And in this world that’s practically the same thing.”
“Don’t know if I could handle that, Coop.”
He let out a low sigh, pulling you close to his chest. “I know.”
You buried your face in his neck, hands grasping ahold of his arm as he hugged you. The Ghoul’s fingers were running up and down your stomach, your thighs, your sides- anywhere he could touch.
You both knew this was the last time you would ever see one another, and in the air a heavy feeling of burden hung low and dormant.
“D’you want to fuck? For old time’s sake?” He whispered in your ear, teeth gently tickling against your neck. Arousal stirred in your belly, and you knew it would be futile to fight against it. In this world, you had learned to give in to your primal instincts.
Turning to meet his gaze, you rested your fingers on his cheek, a smile falling across your mouth. “If you promise me something.”
“What?”
“If…. when you find them, will you send me a postcard?”
He laughed out loud, a chaste kiss being pressed to your temple. There was something sad to his chuckles, something neither of you had ever known before. Despite the feeling of emptiness that began looming within him, Cooper spoke once more, putting on that charming persona he had worn so many moons ago.
“What address should I make it out to, little lady?”
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transmascaraa · 3 days
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hi! guess who's returned after finally graduating :)
can i request a drabble where our bsf (lyney/wanderer/gaming) goes to prom with us + slow dances with us? maybe a little confession too..
i sincerely apologize if you've already done a fic like this already! i haven't opened tumblr for a while now—
— 🧷anon (p.s. how are you :0?)
multiple characters headcannons!
prom confession.
characters: lyney, gaming, wanderer, xiao x gn!reader
author's note: added xiao js because🤷‍♂️ ANYWAYS congrats on your graduation!! mine is like the 14th of june so i still have a bit left but yeah! i've been alright these last few days i guess, nothing special going on really lol i hope you've been well too :p also the only SIMILAR thing i did was this with gaming, but it isn't exactly like what i'm gonna write now lmao so i hope you enjoy these hcs^^
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☆ Lyney
-lyney, as your bsf, is like a really trustworthy and loyal one, PLUS interesting af
-and as you HAD to have a dance partner at prom, you chose him because he was the only safe option, really.
-you asked him if he wanted to dance with you and he was a bit surprised at first but agreed after a bit. SO the music started, and you started dancing together.
-y'know, that waltz dance pose.
-and it was peaceful enough for lyney to be honest with you about something.
-he didn't care about your answer anymore, he just had to get it off his chest
-no more "magician lyney", no more "fatuus lyney".
-just "lyney".
-so when there was a pause in the music, he pulled you closer and whispered in your ear:
-"want to try and be lovers?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✷ Gaming
-like any time, any day.
-he was also a very good bsf, definitely always something interesting to hear from him
-AND it's entertaining to spend time with him in the first place lol
-so being that close, you decided to dance together for prom since neither of you had another choice.
-and he put one of his hands on your waist, and the other intertwined with yours, as you started dancing together.
-peaceful as well.
-adoring each others presence in the moment.
-sharing a few compliments here and there, making eachother giggle and smile and blush
-when nobody was looking, and nobody could hear either of you—
-"i love you." you both said at the same time.
-it was awkward, but it worked out just fine^^
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✧ Wanderer
-uh kinda difficult to become friends at first lmfao
-but you definitely manage to do it after a while and even become bsfs
-and like originally he wanted to go to prom alone
-but he felt bad for you just standing in the corner while everyone else danced with others so he just kinda dragged you to dance
-no words exchanged, only his embarrassed face not wanting to look at you directly.
-his heart was racing and he was doing his best to not fuck up the dance
-not until you pulled him closer and smiled warmly at him.
-he was flustered, but still looking you in the eyes, despite wanting to seem unbothered and uninterested.
-you kissed him on the cheek while whispering:
-"do you want to be more than friends?" to which he embarrassedly nodded, not keeping any eye-contact with you after that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✿ Xiao
-so uh you'd HAVE to be the one trying to become friends with him at first (but it kinda js works out even tho it's difficult since he doesn't understand mortals)
-although, with your help, he understands humans AT LEAST a BIT more than he used to.
-he went with you to prom because you had told him that you have nobody to dance with, so you decided to ask him.
-he didn't really get the concept of prom but he did it anyway.
-of course, while you were dancing with the music playing in the background, he felt a lot more open.
-so he started telling you in detail about how he felt about you. he didn't know it was love.
-he told you about how pretty/handsome/fabolous you were in his eyes, how he wished to spend all his life AND afterlife with you, how important you were to him and that he'd protect you if he had to—
-"i love you too, xiao." and he didn't know how to function properly after that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
yes
just yes i love it
it was really interesting to write ngl i had such beautiful scenarios in my head smh
| 🧷anon | @mariaace <3
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 hours
Note
hii!! I don't know if your requests are open but I love the way you write for the Batboys so I thought I'd request something ^-^
The batboys reacting to their s/o not saying "I love you" back when they end a call. This tiktok for reference.
(In case the link doesn't work https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLW4JWj1/)
Idk if you'll see this but thank you!!
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Dick
‘I’ll see you soon honey, I love you.’ Dick said on the other side of the phone.
‘See you soon, bye.’ You said cheerfully as you hung up the phone, trying your hardest not to break down with laughter. You could clearly see Dick’s face within your mind, looking down at his phone with the expression of a confused husky dog, head tilted to the side and a pout spread across his face.
For not once had you ever not said ‘I love you’ to Dick when ending a phone call, even when you were annoyed with him you still told him that you loved him, so this was completely out of the ordinary for you and you knew that Dick knew that too.
Which is why he was quick to call you back.
‘Hi! Yeah this is your BOYFRIEND speaking, you know the one you love and are devoted to loving for all of eternity, so do you not love me anymore now or?’
‘Of course I do what makes you think that sweetheart?’ You asked, trying not to laugh at Dick’s dramatics.
‘Well it doesn’t sound like it.’ You could practically hear him huffing. ‘I just want to be loved is that so much to ask for?’ He asks rhetorically.
‘Dick, you’re being dramatic.’ You tell him and he gasps on the other side. ‘Me dramatic? Never! All I ask is for my beautiful, stunning and perfect partner to say they love me before I go kick some ass, but no I’m asking too much apparently.’ Dick then huffs. ‘How mean.’ You heard him mutter under his breath.
‘Fine I love you! I love you very much so go kick all the asses for my honey! I love, love, love you!’ You practically shouted down the phone. ‘How was that for you mr dramatic?’ You add.
‘Mr dramatic loves you too very much.’ Was all he said before hanging up.
Dick never liked it when you didn’t say I love you, he gets very upset and doesn’t want to do anything else until you concede and tell him you love him as though your life depended on it. He was indeed a dramatic man.
Tim
‘Don’t stay up too late for me, I’ll be home soon I love you.’ He said.
‘Okay bye.’ Was all you replied with before hanging up the phone.
Tim knew damn well you weren’t doing much but hold back your laughter when you put down the phone after not saying ‘I love you’ like you normally did, and so through the process of elimination did Tim eventually come to the conclusion that this was all an elaborate prank.
‘I know this is a prank, you can cut it out now.’ Tim tells you the moment you picked up the phone.
‘Prank? Why would you think this is a prank?’ You asked.
‘You’ve not once forgot to tell me you love me in our past calls, so for you to do it now only is an indication of two things, one it’s a prank or I’ve done something wrong.’ He told you with certainty in his deduction.
You raised a brow. ‘And what makes you think that you didn’t do something wrong and I’m not mad at you?’ You were the one to ask this time as you could practically hear him think.
‘Because I didn’t.’ Was his only reply and you couldn’t help but giggle as you ask again. ‘Are you sure?’
Silence for a couple of second were what you were greeted with before being greeted with a ‘I’m a hundred percent certain.’
You sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s a prank, I’m sorry but I hope this I love you will set things right. So here it is: I love you Tim Drake.’
More silence and you were worried for a second before you heard him say ‘I love you too, don’t stay up too late for me please, we both can’t be sleep deprived that’s only reserved for me.’
Tim knew, he always does so there’s no point trying to prank him because he’ll know unless he’s caught off guard, though he won’t tell you is that he nearly shit himself when you didn’t and though he did something when he begin to think logically.
Jason
‘Okay I’ve got to head out on patrol now with Roy, I’ll see you as soon as I’m done chipmunk, I love you.’
‘See you soon jaybirdie, bye.’ You replied before quickly putting the phone done but as soon as you did, mentally counting down from three and when you got to one, your phone flashed with Jason’s contact almost immediately.
You knew he wasn’t going to let that slide once you started this little prank and he played right into your hands.
‘What was that.’ He asks.
‘What was what.’ You replied, acting as though you were confused.
‘You know what, the whole not saying I love you. it’s kind of out thing and so for you to not saying it is kinda throwing me off my grove, and Roy won’t stop saying how much of a simp I am. What even is a simp anyway?’ You couldn’t help but feel your smile grow wider at Jason’s rant and let out a small chuckle.
‘I’m sure Roy can tell you what a simp is, but I don’t see how me not saying I love you once is enough to throw you complete of your game.’ You replied as you could almost hear Roy laugh.
Jason sighs and you could imagine him rubbing his forehead. ‘Can you, can you just say it so I’m not thinking about it for the rest of the night, I don’t feel like bleeding out on our bathroom floor tonight.’ He says and you couldn’t help but feel yourself bend to his will a little before completely yielding entirely.
‘Fine, if it’ll make you feel better, I love you.’ You said and you could tell that took the weight off of his shoulders.
‘Thanks chipmunk, I love you.’ He said before hanging up, finally content to see the patrol through with a clear mind.
Needless to say Jason internally overthought himself when you didn’t say I love you once, it nearly drove the poor man insane and into doing something reckless. So it was good that you did say it when you did.
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inzaynety · 21 hours
Text
investigation: start! ⤫
➢ summary: when visiting the third division, there’s never a shortage of questions and confusion about you. a few take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of it.
➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 2573 words, nosy officers, jealous hoshina, suggestive at the end, iharu has a crush on you, slight spoilers for the manga for certain instances to make the plans make sense but it’s vague
➢ notes: i was reading thru character profiles and it made writing this a little easier w the interactions 🫡 hope u enjoy
prequel - pt. 1 of slice & dice - pt. 2
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The lives of the higher-ups were always a topic of discussion for the members of the defense force. If anything, it seemed to be entertainment and gossip to exchange and bond over between divisions. One of the hot topics includes Commander Ashiro’s childhood, courtesy of Kafka. 
The only person they couldn’t get anything on was their own Vice-Commander. He was already an enigma himself with that cheerful yet unsettling grin, and they were all witnesses to the receiving end of his narrowed stares during training. The most they could get out of him was a boisterous laugh that shared nothing. They were getting bored. 
But with boredom comes the urge to seek new things. And in this case, dirt on Vice-Commander Hoshina.
There wasn’t much they could see initially–until you came along. 
Now, you weren’t an uncommon sight for the Third Division officers. They would see you hanging around Okonogi or eyeing a few of the new officers during training with an intense gaze that they didn’t know if they should feel flattered or intimidated. Most of the time, however, you were in close proximity to Hoshina. During division meetings, the officers never saw a day without the two of you conversing in some way whether it be through words or standing right next to each other. There was no blatant physical contact but the distance between you two was a little odd to say the least. 
So some took it upon themselves to start a mission.
Kikoru would never voice her true intentions out loud but it was clear that she was as invested as her companions were if her constant questions about the matter said anything about it. She was influenced by her close peers and their enthusiasm definitely fed that.
Reno didn’t want anything to do with it… at first. He changed his mind after only an hour and he thinks it’s due to spending too much time with a certain someone who loved entertainment. Iharu sneezes in the distance. 
Kafka was simultaneously wanting to join the younger members in their antics, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk another week of pushups. While he would admit that his arms were tougher, those exercises reminded him of the embarrassment every time he miscalled his commander. But the thought of having some knowledge about Hoshina was interesting, to say the least. 
It seemed they were all bored overall. 
Ultimately, they all decided to make a plan and figure it out separately. Your division was visiting for a week and reconvening would wait until the weekend. It was time to investigate. 
Minase was the one to kick it off, prompting her fellow members to gain more confidence. It all started with an innocent encounter in the operations room when she, Kikoru, and Hakua passed by. 
There were voices inside but the most prominent ones were yours and Hoshina’s. The Vice-Commander was a little surprised to see them when they intercepted at the door but it is quickly masked when you step out, a hint of a smile on your face possibly due to the joke he told you only moments before.
“Now, what’re you three doin’ here?” The Vice-Commander asks, hands in his pockets while you stand slightly behind him with your head tilted. 
Minase always had a good ear being a great listener for her peers and was able to hear what he had said to you. It was a flirty quip, but not enough to not be told to a close friend. Upon seeing that she had caught both of your attention, she smiles.
“Good afternoon!” You greet her as well but a silence falls over you five. It’s a bit awkward–Kikoru side-eyes her friend to see what the whole stopping and rushing over here was for, but Minase had a plan already set. “We were actually looking for you, Commander,” she looks directly at you and you raise a brow at the implication of her tone.
“Oh?” You take a step forward. “What for?”
“Some training tips, is all. After the last session you gave us, it motivated us to work on our blade work even more!” Like Hoshina, your preferred way of fighting had nothing to do with the guns everyone else used. You hum in acknowledgement. 
The Third was full of promising new officers and it would be a waste to not help them hone their skills even more. But you were sure Hoshina was pushing them enough with his own swordsmanship. You even learned a lot from him yourself. 
Hakua stifles a choked sound when Minase elbows her gently, not expecting to be put on the spot just like that. And despite already being told of their group’s plan beforehand and having her outgoing personality, it was still a nerve-racking request. 
“Y-Yeah! You seem close to Commander Narumi so we thought you guys would have similar fighting styles.” In your head, you think they’re referring to how he’s the strongest and anyone would want to learn from the best of the best. Gen wasn’t the easiest to get a hold of and you felt flattered they would ask you directly, so of course you would help out.
On the side, Kikoru is tasked with watching the Vice-Commander. Not all reactions were verbal and she was the most observant of the three, but she couldn’t maintain her eyes on him the whole time lest he get suspicious. 
But now she thinks her eyes have deceived her. At the mention of Commander Narumi, Hoshina’s eyes peek open. She sees how they darken more as Hakua talks about your fighting styles but just like his initial surprise earlier, that expression left as quickly as it came. 
She tucks that away.
Vice-Commander Hoshina had his “Kaiju killing eyes” at the mention of Commander Narumi. Don’t know what that could mean. - Kikoru
That’s jealousy! - Minase
Now you see what I mean about his eyes?? - Kafka
Iharu was infatuated with you from the get-go, though would say that his first inspiration was Commander Ashiro. Saving him that day was what began his journey into the Defense Force, but it was you who motivated him to alter his fighting style to keep up with Reno. 
Speaking of the latter, he was sitting beside him in the cafeteria as the two tried to think of a plan for their part. They caught wind that Kikoru’s group got a promising lead and it was up to the rest to solidify it. But they’ve been stuck for the past hour trying to come up with their own thing and asking for training would be a stolen idea.
Reno watches as more and more officers walk into the shared area and grab their meals from the line. They’re a mix of your division and the Third Division members conversing among themselves and he immediately sits up with his idea. Iharu turns his head in surprise to find Reno’s attention already turned to him.
“What? Got an idea?” Reno nods fervently and brings both of their heads down to speak more quietly. Iharu raises his brows at the proposal and his cheeks turn pink. He’s outspoken, yeah, and confident, sure, but this was you. 
His friend pleads with him. He relents.
It’s not too long before you step into the cafeteria with the goal of lunch like everyone else. Spending time with Okonogi was great and all but she fried your brain with data only she and your Operations Leader Sora could keep up with. This was grounds for a well-deserved meal before your joint training session as well. 
Iharu watches as you get in line and as he stands up to line up behind you, and like Reno predicted as you grab your tray, you see the officer. To his and Iharu’s surprise, you greet him first. 
“Officer Furuhashi, right?” You ask after grabbing your tray. There’s a bright look on your face at the excitement of seeing the man who impressed your previous Commander. He shakily nods and you smile in response. “Commander Ogata said a lot of things about you.”
Iharu lets out a polite chuckle. “All good things, I hope?” He gets a laugh out of you and you both fall into a comfortable conversation as you move down the line. Reno watches the door and he hopes the timing works out, or Plan B would have to be used. At least Iharu was having a good time. 
It’s when the two of you reach the end of the line and walk towards Reno’s table does Hoshina appear from the doorway. The red-haired officer doesn’t see him yet and your conversation is at the point when you have a hand on his arm as you’re gushing over his newfound ability with his Kaiju suit. He feels a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder and Iharu freezes, looking to his side to see his Vice-Commander. 
“Vice–”
“Afternoon, Officer Furuhashi. Whatcha two talkin’ about?” By then your hand still hasn’t left his arm and he feels Hoshina’s grip get tighter. Iharu places his tray down onto the nearest table and your hand drops to your side but you didn’t notice. 
“His new ability,” you answer, “we were talking about it earlier with the operations team, remember? I was just looking for you, Officer Furuhashi, I’m so glad I got to talk to you.” Your answer is so sincere and he feels like he could melt right then and there. But to the side of him, there was also a strange sensation in the air. 
It was akin to bloodlust. 
“The same here.” Iharu answers and bows, “Please, enjoy your lunchtime.” Before you can say anything more, he turns on his heel straight towards Reno with his head down. 
The two sit there in silence as you look on in confusion before Hoshina pulls you along with him for his lunch. They aren’t looking at the two of you but Reno already got what he needed.
Vice-Commander Hoshina almost broke Furuhashi’s shoulder. I saw he also had one of his blades behind him while they were all talking. - Reno
WHAT?? - Iharu
By the way, what was plan B? - Kikoru
Iharu asks her directly if she’s dating the Vice-Commander. - Reno
HELLO?? - Iharu
Hi. - Kafka
Kafka knew he was going to be the last of the bunch to get this done. The digital community board on their group chat was a smart idea by Minase and he was able to see what the younger officers were trying to do with this mission. 
Kikoru and her friends got the first response but it needed more. Reno and Iharu got the “more” and all-in-all needed one final piece to set the puzzle. Kafka was proud of them but was currently in a situation with absolutely no idea as to what he was going to do. He thought that was more than enough to assume there was a relationship between the two of you, but Kikoru kicked him for that, too.
Was there any way to get you to confess about it? He thought about asking you directly but even though you were younger than him, you still held a higher title. And he didn’t want to face the potential wrath you could unleash for asking such a question. Were you the type to dish out punishments like the Vice-Commander? Again, he didn’t want to risk it. 
He had to do it soon too, you and your division were leaving in the morning and it would be another month or so before you and Hoshina would be seen in the same vicinity. 
Kafka sighs and runs a hand through his hair. This was troublesome but they were counting on him. 
He looks around the library he’s doing his nightly study session and sees that the time is very close to midnight. He’s shocked and now there’s absolutely no way he’s going to catch you at this hour, not unless you were training anyway. His best bet was to find you early in the morning but even that was a bit of a gamble.
Deciding on his defeat, Kafka puts his books and pens away before heading out into the hallway back to his room. He gets a sense of deja vu when he sees the light of the training room still on and assumes it’s the Vice-Commander again, and it wouldn’t hurt to watch him in action, right?
He walks up to the slightly open door and stops in his tracks at the sight. Both you and Hoshina were holding blades. Your’s were slightly longer and his were the typical ones he used during outside missions. Needless to say, they were the real deal. 
In the blink of an eye, you’re lunging towards each other and Kafka thinks if he blinks even once, he’d miss about five slashes shared between you two. Following Hoshina alone was already too much but watching someone match his speed? It was out of this world. 
The match only lasts for about half a minute ending with a knife to both of your throats from the other. A moment of heavy breathing follows before you groan and toss your head back in exasperation, both of you simultaneously lowering your weapons. 
“I still can’t get that last one right!” 
“It was close! And hey, ya got the blade to my neck.”
“I always get the blade to your neck.” You roll your eyes. Hoshina was the best swordsman there was and it was incomparable to your personal weapon, so of course he would be better than you at it. ‘Whatever, I’m heading to bed.” Hoshina lets out a laugh. You put away the practice weapons and as you head to the door, Hoshina pulls you back to him by your wrist. 
“Wait a second,” he says and leans his head down to yours. 
Kafka, in the meantime, ducked his head to avoid being seen at least a little longer knowing he was not running away to hide in time. There aren't any more words being exchanged and he thinks there’s something else going on in that small bit of silence. 
He pops his head up and makes eye contact with Hoshina’s open eye. 
Got pushups. - Kafka
Damn. Sorry old man. - Iharu
So you got caught? Amateur. - Kikoru
Leave me alone! I tried. - Kafka
So you really didn’t see anything? - Reno
Oh, yeah. They kissed. - Kafka
What? - Kikoru
I got caught by the Vice-Commander during it. :(- Kafka
HUH?? - Kikoru
Bonus:
After Kafka leaves, his head hung low at the premonition of more punishment, your arms stay on Hoshina’s shoulders. 
“Did you have to do that?” You muse, playing with the shorter hairs near the nape of his neck. He shivers at the feeling but his eyes open slightly and they’re not looking at you so softly.
“Did ya have to talk about him before training?” He counters back. He knows what you’ve been doing. You scoff.
You also know what he’s been doing. The murderous intention at the mention of you and Gen, the physical warning during lunch at Iharu, and even a mark of possession to the poor older man who was just joining in the fun of his peers. 
“Of course,” you bring him down to you, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. You feel his hands tighten on your waist. 
“What are you gonna do about it?”
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invisiblestringmm · 3 days
Text
chapter six
and if you ask me to, daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, i’ma give you the world
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author: writing this had me sobbing a few times and i truly hope you'll love it as much as i do. let's keep in mind that this is a work of fiction, and that i do not know nor am associated (unfortunately) to any of the real people mentioned here. tw: massive fluff, description of anxiety, angst
word count: 7.758k words
It wasn’t a long drive to the estate, but the portion of time you spent in your car parked out front was longer than what you had planned - lost in your thoughts, you made an effort to gather a bit more of the courage you knew you still had in your core to now face the most significant person in this whole chaos: your daughter, the love of your life. You knew Lily would eventually bring up so many questions that your only hope was that she’d wait for Mason to be around, but knowing her all too well, her focus would be entirely on meeting her dad; you could already see the twinkle in her eyes, the impatience hovering over her making that little human pace relentlessly whenever she had to wait for things to happen when they should and not on her time - which was nothing like you, because you considered yourself fairly patient. So that was another thing she probably got from Mason.
With another sigh parting your lips, you eventually made your way to the big house - only to be welcomed by your mum’s frantic screams that Christmas was ruined, by your dad’s hopeless and anguished glance, and a pair of tiny arms that made your entire world stop because nothing else mattered. Lily held you tight like you’d been away for years and not for just a few hours. “I missed you, mummy. Abuelita is angry,” she pouted, her big hazel eyes gleaming with tears she seemed to be containing for a while now.
“Oh baby,” you cooed. “What happened?”
Lily carefully explained the same way she heard: there was a big snowstorm and pretty much every family member that was expected to join them for Christmas wouldn’t be able to make it. So far, it was just the four of you, Emma (your cousin, daughter of your father’s brother), and her two children, Louis and Oscar, the 8-year-old twins. Inevitably, your thoughts went straight to Mason and how having him there would be perfect. Not the way your mum truly wanted, but it’d make Lily happy and whatever made your daughter happy, also made your parents happy.
Back in Surrey, Mason quickly typed you a message after declining two of your calls.
Watching half of his family still in shock with the news he just dropped could be amusing if it wasn’t something so serious - although Mason was sure that, at some point in life, they’d all have a good laugh about it. His sister’s soft hand squeezing his shoulder felt reassuring, but Mason could still feel his heart pounding against his chest and the silence filling his large living room was the scariest sound he had ever heard. Lewis was the first one to break it with a sigh, and Mason could only hope he’d say something funny to break the tension, but it didn’t happen - at least not yet.
“Are you sure she’s yours?” Lewis questioned and Mason scanned his dad’s face starting to turn red, the veins in his forehead throbbing under Lew’s question.
Before Mason could answer, Jaz took a step forward and went big sister mode just like he expected she would. “Let’s not rule out a DNA test, but you’ve all met this little girl before.” The confused look on their faces swapped back to shock once Jasmine showed them Lily’s picture - Debbie had tears in her eyes and glanced at Mason, desperately waiting for him to say something, but the truth was he was never the one to hide this from them.
“I know it’s a shock to all of you, as it is for me too,” Mason began, swallowing a sob before he could start weeping the way he did this morning. “But I need you all with me in this because everything I’ll do from now on is for her, it’s not about me. I need you all to make this about her as well.” It seemed like those words were all his mum needed to ultimately allow those insisting tears to roll down her cheeks and search for her husband’s hand, who softly squeezed it, giving her the comfort she needed that everything would be just fine in the end. “This is far from how I expected it’d be,” Mason added. “But I can’t say that I’m not happy. I truly can’t wait to be with her and be the father she deserves.”
As Mason nervously rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to control how sweaty and shaky they were, he observed his dad end the short distance between them and pull him into a hug. He didn’t need words from Tony to know his dad was proud of how he was handling the situation, and whatever damage control they’d eventually have to do would be properly taken care of. But, at this moment, it was all about her. It was about making sure that Lily would have everything she always wished for, and deserved.
Mason knew it would be the biggest challenge of his life, he didn’t have 9 months to prepare himself nor to understand how it was to be a father. What if he wasn’t able to love her unconditionally, or to be everything she expected he’d be? What if he ended up being the worst dad he could possibly be? His only hope was in what his father himself represented - Tony taught him to be a good man, to fight for his family, and to be honest and decent.
Mason’s life wasn’t his own anymore, and that frightened him to the core, but he also felt prepared to fully embrace all the changes that’d come with it because deep down, he knew it’d be worth it.
While Jasmine distracted his parents and brother with pictures and the few stories and details she knew about, Mason hurried to call you back. While he waited for you to pick up, he thought how odd something so simple also felt so intimate - calling you, someone he thought about from time to time, to talk about the life you two shared. A beautiful little girl, whom he couldn’t wait to meet.
“Hello?” you breathed on the other side of the phone, trying to concentrate on the call and on Lily jumping on your bed after having a large cup of cocoa with marshmallows. “Lilian Maisie, I swear to God that if you vomit on this bed…”
Mason couldn’t hold back a laugh, but he also felt his chest clenching a bit with the sudden urge to be there. “Hi, it’s me. Mason.”
“Mase, hi!” he grinned at the nickname, loving how it sounded coming from you. “I tried to call you before.”
“I know, I was with my family. I told them about Lily.”
“Oh? How did it go?”
During most of the talk, you felt yourself going a bit dizzy from holding your breath. It was almost like you were waiting for something bad to happen like you were ready to protect your daughter from everything and everyone, but his family’s reaction was expected and you couldn’t really imagine what they were going through, but you felt deeply sorry and embarrassed to be the one causing it - muttering “I’m so sorry, Mason” during the phone call was the least you could do, and although it was sweet of him, the fact that Mason kept telling you to stop apologising didn’t make things easier. You knew you’d have to work hard to fix things, and that as long as it wouldn’t affect her routine, it was their right to have a free pass to your daughter’s life whenever they wanted.
“Did you tell her?” Mason asked, chewing the inside of his cheeks as he anxiously waited for an answer.
“No,” you heard him sigh. “But only because I wanted to ask you something first.” Mason softly hummed, waiting for you to continue. “Would you like to spend Christmas with your daughter, Mase? Bring your family too, or don’t, I dunno. But they’re all more than welco-”
“Yes, I’d very much like to spend Christmas with her,” Mason interrupted. “With you two.”
Insane was the only word you and Mason could find to address this entire situation, it was all happening so fast that you two shared something in common: fear. Of not giving everyone time to process the news, of dropping this on Lily’s shoulders, and, somehow, causing more damage than good. For Lily, it wouldn’t be just meeting her dad, as he was also her best friend’s uncle - no matter how mature she seemed to be, Lily was still just a child and you and Mason feared her reaction. He was particularly terrified of not being good enough, that she’d be disappointed when she found out he’s her dad but you repeatedly told him that Lily loved him unconditionally.
He couldn’t deny that he was a bit disappointed to be going alone, but it made sense that his family decided to stay behind, saying that this moment was private. In a quick phone call with Jaz, she promised they were considering joining your family for Boxing Day and that they all appreciated the invitation - Jaz mentioned how her mum’s emotions were everywhere, wanting to know everything she possibly could about her granddaughter, so you kindly sent a few pictures and videos of Lily growing up.
While the kids were playing, you took the opportunity to let your parents know about your decision to invite Mason, which seemed to make your mum quite happy. You also had to update Emma, who had always been one of the most discreet and private members of the family; she pulled you into a hug and said you could count on her for anything and, between giggles, that she’d do her best to control her twins who were obsessed about football just like any other boys their age. Although overwhelming, it also felt like a relief to be able to finally tell people about Lily’s dad.
You were finally alone with Lily in her room, braiding her hair the way she liked, as she moved unquietly on the chair placed in front of the mirror. “Peanut, sit still please,” you hummed, a frustrated moan parting your lips seeing your request was pointless.
“But I want to know what the surprise is!” Lily pouted, little arms crossed against her chest.
“It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you,” you winked, not letting her see how amused you were when she huffed and finally sat still.
Always independent and self-sufficient, Lily politely dismissed your help when she went to pick an outfit. You instructed her to go for something warm, and even if she seemed a bit confused with the tights, she managed to do it all on her own, which brought you both comfort and nostalgia to see her growing up so fast. Until weeks ago, when Jasmine walked into your lives, it was just the two of you against the world and although you believed it to be enough, of course, there was always something missing and not just for her - you missed it too, having someone to share the wonders of the things she did that were so little to some, but so meaningful to you; and you knew that no one could fill that gap better than Lily’s father.
As he drove to your place, Mason pictured all different scenarios of him meeting Lily. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the mixture of excitement and fear that coursed through him - Mason rehearsed the moment countless times in his mind since he found himself alone, yet he also knew that nothing could truly prepare him for it. As the GPS showed he was getting closer and closer to the estate, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelmed him.
His mind raced with questions. Would she really like him, like you said? Would she be scared? Could he truly be the father she deserved? Mason felt his chest filling with both hope and dread. The weight of all those years, unaware there was a little yet huge piece of him out in the world, pressed down on him - the years he had missed, the milestones he hadn’t been there for. Mason couldn’t let a grudge take over him, there was no point now.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves once he spotted the large gate in front of him. Definitely, no one could ever say it was for the money, he thought, eyes curiously scanning the manor behind the gates - Mason didn’t have to announce his arrival, as he watched it slowly open for him. Not far away, he could spot your figure, standing outside the white door. You seemed as nervous as he was.
As Mason parked his car between a brand new black Range Rover and a racing green Aston Martin Valour he recognised as being limited edition, Mason felt the palms of his hands sweat even more. This wasn’t his usual habitat, none of his friends nor acquaintances were this wealthy. Part of him felt uncomfortable, but the other was relieved to know you were the opposite he’d expect someone this wealthy to be - he instantly assumed your family was as lovely as you.
When your eyes finally met his, you caught him wiping his hands on his jeans. You two could hear the loud waves of laughter of children coming from inside the house, filling the silence between you but Mason felt disconnected, focused solely on meeting his daughter. He finally stood tall in front of you, cheeks pink from the cold but he looked as gorgeous as ever - Mason seemed to relax a bit under your touch when you squeezed his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Mason,” you said softly. “We’ll do it together and it’s going to be okay, she’s the sweetest girl.”
Mason let out a heavy breath, the smell of mint and the warmth coming from him made you feel slightly dizzy, but you quickly put yourself together. “I just don’t want to scare her,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. You felt sorry for him. “I want this to be perfect.”
You smile warmly. “Just be yourself. She’s naturally a curious little girl and knows I’ve planned a surprise for her, but you’re her biggest dream and everything she always wanted,” you said. “Besides a dog. She desperately wants a dog.”
The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he laughed was adorable and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything so far. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”
“It’s been a journey,” you acknowledged, a soft smile curling the sides of your lips as you felt your cheeks flush pink by the sudden touch of his skin on yours - Mason held your pinky with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But Lily deserves to know her father, and you deserve to know your daughter. This is the right thing.” Mason nodded, and your eyes fell to your pinkies intertwined. “Shall we?”
Mason’s breath caught in his throat as you guided him inside the manor, and he loved that despite all the wealth, it felt like home - the warmth, the laughs, and the smell of freshly baked biscuits soothed his nerves. He carefully scanned every little detail as you guided him upstairs, then down a hallway adorned with family photos and children’s artwork. You stopped in front of a door decorated with colourful stickers spelling out ‘Lilian’.
“Can you wait inside as I go get her?” Mason nodded and walked into the bedroom after you opened the door for him. “I’ll be back with her in a minute.”
When you left, Mason found himself not knowing what to do, again. His eyes quickly scanned his daughter’s bedroom - it was smaller than he expected, it had a fantastic garden view, and walls painted in baby yellow and white. There were lots of books, a wall full of artwork, ballet stuff, and, last but not least, a football - which made him smile warmly as his chest filled with pride.
“Am I getting my surprise now, mummy?” He heard his sweet voice and Mason swallowed a sob, trying not to look like a creep standing behind that door.
“Mhmm, you can say so. I truly believe you’ll love it, angel.” You replied and he smiled at how sweet you sounded talking to her. “I won’t ask you to close your eyes because I know you won’t,” his daughter replied with a giggle, that made him want to burst into tears.
As the door slowly opened, Mason fully embraced the moment when his life wasn’t just his anymore. There she was, his little girl, looking at him with hazel eyes filled with curiosity - Mason felt like he was looking at himself. She had light brown hair that fell in loose curls around her face. The moment Mason saw her, time seemed to stand still. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a surge of emotions he had never experienced before. There was an intense mixture of love, joy, and an almost unbearable ache. The sight of her, so small and innocent, with features that mirrored his own, hit him with a profound sense of connection and loss for the time they had spent apart. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes welled up with tears.
Mason realised in that instant just how much he had missed, and how much he wanted to be part of her life. The room seemed to blur around him, and all he could focus on was Lily. His daughter. The word felt both foreign and incredibly right. He was overwhelmed by the desire to protect her, to know her, and to make up for lost time.
“Hello Lily,” Mason said softly, crouching down to her level as you guided her to him. “Remember me?”
Lily nodded. “Is Summer my surprise?” She sounded both excited and confused as she studied him with cautious interest, her mind racing as she tried to understand why her best friend’s uncle was there.
He smiled and shook his head, trying to steady his nerves, eyes looking up searching for yours in a silent ask for help.
“No, baby,” you cooed, “Mason is your surprise.”
Lily’s eyes lit up with interest, head tilted to the side. “Why?”
“Because you’re Maisie and Mason,” he watched you crouching down next to her, your hand softly caressing her back as her full attention was still on him. “Remember all those nights you asked the stars to bring your daddy to you?”
Mason swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes burning with tears - he couldn’t cry now, he didn’t want Lily to see him crying, but he felt so overwhelmed by knowing how much she wanted him. The thought of that precious little girl wishing for her dad every night was one of the most painful he ever experienced, and in that moment Mason silently promised he’d never let her go through that again.
When your words finally hit her, Lily’s jaw slightly dropped and her eyes searched for yours, but quickly went back to Mason - he noticed how her little eyes teared up and she pouted, clearly experiencing a mixture of emotions that were a bit too much for her.
“You’re my daddy?” She sniffed, her voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process what was unfolding before her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mason finally allowed tears to stream down his face as he nodded. “Yes, I’m your daddy.”
For a moment that felt like forever, Lily was silent, and Mason couldn’t ignore how you silently reassured her that it was fine to feel everything she was feeling, validating it, by either squeezing her shoulder or running your fingers through her hair. Then, with a sudden burst of emotion, Lily threw her tiny arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Mason felt a surge of warmth and love as he hugged her back, his heart overflowing. “I always wanted a daddy,” she said softly.
You didn’t know how you managed to hold your tears until now, but seeing the wide smile on his face and how Mason sighed in relief, you just couldn’t hold them back any longer. You muffled a sob by covering your mouth with your hand, and the way Mason’s hand searched for yours while not letting Lily go filled your heart with love.
He held her close, his voice choked with emotion. “And I always wanted you, Lily. I’m so happy I found you.”
Mason knew this was just the beginning, but he felt ready to face whatever came next with his daughter, and you, by his side. Lily pulled back slightly, her small hands cupping his face, making Mason giggle. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she curiously scanned his face.
“Summer is my cousin,” she said, a wide smile on her lips when Mason nodded. “Does she know?”
“Not yet,” Mason replied, “But we can tell her together and I’m sure she’ll be really happy.”
As if her thoughts and what was happening were still sinking in, Lily suddenly threw herself back in Mason’s arms, hiding her face in the crook of his neck to muffle her cry - even so, not once did Mason let go of your hand, which was the reassurance you needed to know that things would be alright and that you two would do it together, because you were a family now. You two were everything Lily needed.
“You’re the best Christmas present in the world, Masey,” a slight disappointment coursed down his spine when Lily called him by his nickname, but he’d never rush her to call him ‘dad’. “I-I mean, da-“
“It’s alright, bubba,” Mason interrupted her, softly kissing her forehead when Lily pulled back again. “You can call me whatever makes you feel comfortable, yeah?”
She silently nodded, smiling at him when he wiped her tears. You felt your heart skip a beat at the gesture.
“Do you want to see the drawings I did today?” she asked, small hands reaching his. Lily smiled again when she noticed he was still holding yours.
Mason smiled back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I’d love to, sweetheart.”
You gently squeezed his hand, letting it go before Lily led him to her drawing table, where colourful sketches of flowers, animals, and fantastical scenes covered the surface. Lily picked one of her favourites, a vibrant drawing of a butterfly garden, and handed it to him. Mason took the drawing, marvelling at the details and creativity - she really was everything you’d told him, and seeing that by himself filled him with pride. Lily was part of him, she was also his, and he could barely believe that he managed to do that when he often doubted he could do something good, something beyond special.
“This is one of my best,” she said proudly.
“I love the colours you used,” he said, showing interest, which made her eyes sparkle. “You’re the most talented artist.
Lily beamed at the praise, making you chuckle. “Can we draw together sometime, Masey? And play football too?”
“I’d like that very much,” Mason replied, crouching down her level again, holding her hands. “We can do everything you want.”
You watched your daughter narrow his eyes at him as a cheeky smile curled the sides of her lips. “Can we go get a dog now?”
“Lilian Maisie!” you scolded her but couldn’t hold back the happiness that bubbled up inside you and ended up letting a loud laugh part your lips. The way the three of you laughed, filling the room with so much joy and peace made you feel lighter.
Mason leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead again and wrapped his arms around her small figure, lifting her in the air as she squealed between giggles. “Let’s stick to football and drawing, yeah?”
Lily nodded in approval and kissed his cheeks. He was her daddy and he was a lot more than she ever dreamed of; the fact that he was also her best friend’s uncle, which made Summer her cousin, was something Lily still couldn’t believe - she wanted to scream, to see her bestie as soon as possible, hug her and never let her go. There was so much happiness inside her chest that it brought tears back to her eyes, and as she silently watched Mason with what felt like a permanent frown, Lily felt hot tears wet her cheeks again.
“Are you staying forever?” she sniffed, cupping his face with her small hands again.
Mason nodded, wiping her tears with gentle kisses. “Forever, bubba. I’m never leaving you,” he whispered against her skin, and you had to sit on her bed as you felt your legs weaken at how wholesome that moment was.
“Do you promise?” Lily insisted.
“I promise.”
The three of you spent the next hours drawing and chatting, with Lily sharing stories about her favourite things - she proudly told her daddy about being very good at football and was particularly happy when he told her that he was there for the ballet recital. Mason listened intently, soaking in every little detail, every laugh, and every smile. She was indeed the sweetest girl, and as he reached again for your hand - his pinky intertwined with yours - Mason felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that he had never known before.
As the evening drew to a close, and Mason had memorised pretty much every inch of his daughter’s face and how incredible she was, a knock on the door brought the three of you back to Earth. With the kindest smile on her face and pride in her eyes, your mum’s face beamed with happiness as she watched Lily glued to her father.
“Hi,” her voice was soft, and kind, and Mason felt oddly comfortable for a first meeting. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we’re all starting to get ready for Christmas dinner.”
You noticed Mason was slightly confused since it was still the 24th, but you patiently explained that you always had two celebrations: one on the 24th because it was part of your mum’s culture and your dad didn’t want to change it for her, which Mason thought it was quite romantic of him; and the other on the 25th. He liked how you all seemed to be pretty close and supportive, how your mum was very discreet and talked to him like it wasn’t the first time they were seeing each other - she treated him like family, just like you told him before.
Even so, Mason stood up still holding Lily in his arms, and walked towards your mum. “Hi ma’am, I’m Mason,” he smiled politely and the way your mum sighed in delight made you want to run away and hide. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“He’s my daddy, abuelita,” Lily said proudly, making you all chuckle.
“Is he really, amor?” your mum winked at her. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mason. We settled the guest room for you.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” your mum nodded at his words with a gentle smile on her lips and, after blowing a kiss to your daughter, left.
The hardest task was convincing Lily to let Mason go but he was so gentle and so patient that she didn’t argue when he offered her choices - he definitely understood how tantrums worked, but also understood how much she wanted to spend every second of every minute with him after years of not having him. Together, the three of you went downstairs so Mason could pick up his small luggage as you waited inside and Lily watched him through the window.
“Are you happy, baby?” you asked, running your fingers down her hair.
Lily nodded. “So much, mummy. This is the best Christmas ever!”
She was naturally a happy little girl, but you couldn’t remember seeing her this happy - you also couldn’t shake the feeling that such happiness could’ve come much earlier if you’d searched for him before. The way Mason smiled at her as he made his way back to the house was the sweetest in the world, and before he could even open the door, Lily stormed out to welcome him back. You guided him to the guest room, which was between yours and Lily’s, and Mason awkwardly kissed your cheek before you separated and it was just you and Lily again.
“What is it?” you asked, watching your daughter grinning at you.
“He kissed you, mummy!�� Lily whispered between giggles like she was sharing a silly secret. You felt your cheeks burn under her comment but didn’t reply or she’d turn it into an endless teasing.
“Let’s focus on what you’ll wear, yeah?”
Lily nodded. “Can we match outfits, mummy?”
“I suppose we can, peanut.”
The way Lily was focusing a lot more on what you were wearing rather than focusing on herself wasn’t suspicious considering you knew your daughter all too well, Lily was always up to something when she hyper-focused on one thing and made that thing her little project - still, you wouldn’t ruin this for her and allowed her to do whatever she wanted, so that’s how you two ended wearing matching white knit sweaters, black tights and tweed skirts. It was both adorable and funny, but the cherry on top was Mason wearing pretty much the same colours as you, except his sweater had some pretty details in navy blue - he seemed amused by it as there was a permanent grin on his lips as the three of you went downstairs to meet the rest of your family.
You noticed a slight change in his posture when the sound of your father’s voice reached you, so this time it was your turn to hold his pinky as a gesture that it’d be just fine and he had nothing to worry about. Mason seemed surprised by it but also seemed to relax, offering you a warm smile in return, a smile that made your heart beat slightly faster. Before walking into the living room, you let go of him, which got Mason more upset than he expected but he shook it off.
“There you are!” cheered your father, his arms wide open as he ran past you and went straight to Mason. “I was wondering when I’d see you, lad.”
The older man’s sympathy caught him a bit off guard in the most positive way as two main things could make him dislike Mason: getting his daughter pregnant and being a Chelsea player, but still, there he was treating him as if they were longtime buddies. You let go of the fact that your dad pretty much ignored your presence, knowing that there was a chance that he was slightly starstruck that Mason was in his living room. You grinned when Mason glanced at you - a playful smirk curling his lips - before your dad put his arm over Mason’s shoulder and guided him to his collection of overpriced whisky. They were followed by your cousin’s twins, who couldn’t believe that THE Mason Mount was there.
It was just you, your mum, and Emma now, and noticing how Lily seemed a bit upset that her father was the centre of all the attention, you decided to do a FaceTime call with Willow and Jaz. Lily was the one to tell her auntie Willow that her daddy was there with them, that he was staying forever, and that she’d convince him to get her a dog - something you protested again, but asked yourself for how long you’d be able to avoid another addition to the family and one more responsibility on your hands. You promised Willie to keep her updated and that they could meet for a girls’ night once you were back in London, something she was more than happy about, and promised she’d have a very fun schedule for both of you so you could take a break from all the recent stress that surrounded you.
The next one was Jasmine, who answered faster than you expected, which made you giggle as she seemed overly excited to know everything saying Mason hadn’t told her with all the details she wanted. “We’ll have to meet when I’m back in London so I can give you the detailed version,” you said, watching her roll her eyes at you on the other side of the screen.
“You two are the perfect match, no surprise you have a daughter together,” Jaz teased, making your cheeks blush. “Did he cry?”
“He’d cry even if he was a robot, Jaz. It was a very touching moment,” you admitted and she gave you a warm smile. “I’m happy with how well it went, Lily is having the time of her life although right now she’s a bit upset by my dad monopolising him.”
Jasmine let out a cheerful laugh. “He was so nervous to meet your dad,” she confessed. “I’m so happy it went well, Y/n. It’s so important for Lily that he’s there for her.”
You nodded, chewing your lower lip, trying your best not to cry again. “How did your family react, though?”
“Oh well, they still can’t really believe it. I think my mum is still in shock, she keeps saying that she should’ve known when they met, like some sort of grandmother's sixth sense,” you felt your chest clench a bit, knowing it was you who caused this.
“It’s not her fault,” you mumbled, watching Jaz nod. “Is she there now? Do you guys want to see Lily?”
Jaz opened a wide and sweet smile for you and moved her phone just a bit, Debbie was sitting right next to her, with Summer on her lap. Your cheeks blushed at how emotional she seemed to be and you just wanted to hug her and apologise for all the mess you made and for taking five years of her life with Lily, but you’d do it in person.
“Hi auntie Y/n,” Summer said, waving at you.
“Oh sweetie, hello. Someone here wants to see you,” you walked towards Lily, who was sitting on the floor drawing something. Her face lit up when she saw her best friend’s face on the screen.
“Sumi!” Lily tried to take the phone from your hand but you gently pulled away, afraid she’d let slip something that was meant to be told in person. She pouted a little but seemed to understand the message. “I have so much to tell you!”
Amused by your daughter’s excitement, Summer giggled. “I miss you, Lili,” the little girl said, and you noticed how their interaction made Debbie emotional.
You discreetly pointed at Debbie so your daughter would acknowledge her too but you noticed how her cheeks blushed, and she seemed relieved that Debbie took the first step and asked her if she was having fun. Lily showed the drawing she was finishing shortly before the call.
“This is me in the middle, my mummy and my daddy. Now that I know him I can paint his hair colour,” you melted at how she explained every detail. “This is Mr. Peanut, the dog my daddy will give me when we can convince mummy.”
You narrowed at her but she just giggled, followed by Mason right behind you - the way he just stood there watching Lily was the sweetest, a warm smile on his lips. ‘It’s your mum’ you mumbled to him, and you noticed how happy that information made him feel because his smile doubled the size. Right behind him, your dad smiled proudly at you and blew you a kiss. Lily said goodbye to her and ran straight to Mason, while you talked to Jaz for a few more minutes while he and your dad entertained the little one. Shortly after you said goodbye to her and Debbie, you heard Lily slightly upset about her interaction with the latter.
“Do you think she’s upset I didn’t call her grandma?”
Mason shook his head and leaned a bit to kiss the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “Never,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about that bubba. Take your time, yeah? There’s no need to rush.”
Noticing this was a father and daughter moment, your dad walked away and linked his arm to yours, guiding you to where your mum and cousin were while Mason walked with Lily in his arms to see the Christmas lights that decorated the garden, through the window. They were so comfortable with each other that it felt like this wasn’t even their first day together.
Your mum welcomed you with a glass of white wine - she seemed much calmer now even if pretty much the whole family didn’t make it due to the snowstorm.
“Family is family, there’s lots of them missing but what we have tonight is perfect,” she pointed at Lily and Mason. “I’ve never said this to you, but that’s what I’ve been longing to see. My granddaughter with her father.”
“I think he’ll be a great one,” your father added, sipping his whisky. “You can see that he’s trying, the least we can do is to make him feel comfortable.”
Their support, from the very beginning, was one of the things that made you stronger whenever you had to face the challenges of motherhood - your parents were never there to spoil you nor treat you like some sort of victim but rather made you see all the options you had and each of the consequences that followed according to whatever choice you decided to make.
Completely taken by your emotions, you threw yourself in your dad’s arms and your mum joined for a family hug. Being an only child had never been a problem when your parents were so present, despite such busy lives they had. They never missed the most important moments of your life and were always there whenever you needed them. Those two were your best friends.
For the rest of the evening, all of you enjoyed proper family time with games, stories shared between laughs and fantastic food cooked by your mum - she always dismissed the staff so they could spend the holidays with their families and the food was entirely her responsibility. She blushed when Mason said it was one of the best he ever had, and you knew he wasn’t just trying to find a way to her heart. He actually meant it.
“Mummy,” you felt Lily softly poke your ribs, seeming a bit shy to say what was on her mind. You offered her a kind smile in return. “Do you think there’s still time to rewrite my letter to Santa?”
You frowned. “Why, baby?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I think I can wait for the ice skates, I want to ask Santa for my dad to still be here in the morning.”
That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. “Oh baby,” you cooed, pulling a string of hair from her face, and took her in your arms, sitting on the same armchair where you first spoke to her while still pregnant. “He’s not leaving”.
“I just want to make sure, mummy…”
“I know, we’ll write if that’s what you want,” you quickly replied, not wanting to invalidate her feelings. “You know when you were still in my tummy and was the size of a bean,” she giggled. “I sat in this armchair and spoke to you for the first time. I promised I’d try to be the best mummy to you and sometimes I wish I was better.”
“You’re the best mummy in the world,” Lily said, her small hand touching your face as her thumb softly stroked your cheek. You smiled softly.
“Now, in this same armchair, I promise that he’s not leaving. Your daddy is staying forever and now you have another grandma and grandpa, you have a cousin, aunties, uncles…”
“Do you think they’ll like me?” she mumbled, hazel eyes looking at you like she could see your soul.
“They’ll love you, peanut.”
“I’ll love them too,” she said before a long yawn, blinking a few times as she was clearly starting to fight against her need to sleep. “But I’ll always love you the most, mummy…” Lily mumbled before her eyes finally closed and, after a long sigh, her body finally relaxed in your arms and the usual low, cute snores started.
All the love that your daughter gave you had always been something that overwhelmed you. The way her face lights up when you pick her up at school, how she always wants to show you first the new things she learns, and how she’s always checking on you and making sure you’re happy were a few of the things that made you know for sure that if soulmates were indeed real, Lily was yours. Pride always coursed through your veins whenever she showed an act of kindness, and joy involved your entire being knowing that it had influence of how well you raised her - still, you still couldn’t shake the anguish that made your chest clench whenever you thought about how you prived her from another life the moment you decided to hide her from Mason. That was the feeling that kept you up for hours, rolling from one side to the other in bed, with the desperate need to cry always hovering over you.
After putting on your robe and grabbing the baby monitor, you guided your tired body to the kitchen and, trying not to make too much noise, prepared yourself a cup of chamomile tea hoping it’d save your life. You enjoyed the combination of silence and the sweet hot liquid relaxing your body - the house was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the floorboards and the soft hum of the refrigerator. Lost in your thoughts, you sat at the kitchen table staring at the half-empty cup, replaying the events of the past weeks over and over in your mind.
You heard soft footsteps and looked up to see Mason entering the kitchen, his face pretty much like yours: etched with worry and exhaustion. He hesitated a bit at the doorway before stepping in, your eyes meeting his.
“Can’t sleep too?” you asked gently, watching him take a seat across from you.
Mason shook his head. “Too much on my mind.”
You nodded, your gaze dropping to the table. Taking a deep breath, you felt your voice trembling as you spoke. “I need to say something.”
Mason looked at you, sensing the weight of your words. “Go ahead, Y/n. I’m listening.”
You wrung your hands, struggling to find the right words. Looking at him again, you felt a knot forming in your throat. “I feel so guilty about keeping Lily away from you. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but I realise it was a lot more about protecting myself rather than protecting her. Seeing you with her now… and how happy she is. I feel awful, and I know I was wrong.”
Mason sighed deeply, his emotions a turbulent mix of anger, sadness, and understanding.“I confess that this is like… my worst nightmare. A child from a casual hookup,” he confessed, and you felt tears burning your eyes. “And knowing this child exists five years later did make me angry. I’ve missed so much of her life and there’s so many things involved.”
Tears welled up in his eyes but you watched him wipe them away quickly. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.
“I can’t just insert myself in her life without thinking about every detail, it’s much deeper because I bring a lot with me to everyone that’s part of my life,” much to your surprise, Mason reached for your hand, and, with your heart skipping a beat, your pinkies intertwined again. “I’m angry and hurt but I’m willing to push that away because I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, at the same time. Lily is incredible, she’s sweet and kind and you’ve been doing a fantastic job. She’s more than I could’ve hoped for, so I’ll fight everyone and everything to keep her safe. To keep you safe too.”
You didn’t wipe the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “I robbed you those first five years and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that, but I hope you can, for Lily’s sake. She deserves to have both of her parents.”
Mason’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “I need to feel that I can trust you, forgiveness will eventually come, but it’s also not like I hate you,” you watched how his cheeks suddenly blushed. “I think you’re amazing and I often thought about you and always hoped that I could find you someday.”
“Just not under this circumstance, yeah?” you added, and you two shared a laugh that pushed away whatever tension between you.
Mason nodded, letting go of your hair to stand up from his chair and sit on the one beside you. “I’ll take what life is giving me. We’ll figure it out together, Y/n. For her, and us too,” he pulled you into a comforting hug as you clung to him, your sobs quieting as you found solace in his arms.
“I’m so grateful you’re here, Mason,” you confessed as he stroked your back soothingly.
“We’re a family now, Y/n. It’s going to be tough but we’ll get through whatever comes our way. As long as we keep Lily safe and give her the love and support she deserves, everything will be fine.”
You remained there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto each other, both knowing that while the road ahead would be challenging, you were committed to facing it together for the sake of your daughter. Holding hands, you walked back to the bedroom hallway in silence, and Mason softly kissed your forehead before heading back to his. You stood there for a few minutes, contemplating how his lips felt so good against your skin, before deciding you’d sleep the few hours left for sunrise with Lily. With her hair splattered over the pillow, she had a smile on her lips as she softly hummed words you couldn’t understand, which stopped when you cuddled her under the duvet and finally closed your eyes, letting sleep relax your body.
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Jungkook eating her gf out by the pool while she's laying on the lounger and enjoying the sun because he's so pussy whipped he just can't control himself
Summer Days
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a/n: It was so hard to start writing this because the description was too vague AH- for the anon who asked for this, I hope it was what you were looking for, I tried to do the best I could 😣. wc: 1.4k taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss
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“What's wrong?” you muttered under your breath, feeling your boyfriend pierce your profile with his gaze. You didn't bother to look at him, mostly because you didn't think what he wanted to ask you was something that warranted it. You loved your boyfriend, but you had waited too long to get to this part of your book, you couldn't stop now.
“Uhm, I was just thinking... you look very pretty today” he nodded quickly, stirring in his lounger, “I haven't seen you in that swimsuit before, it's beautiful.”
You nodded silently, pushing your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose, your attention still completely on your book, “I bought it recently, Soyeon saw it on sale and thought it would look good on me, so she bought it.” You turned the page, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jungkook awkwardly got up from his lounger and approached you. For a second you turned to watch him, following his every move as he sat down across from you, using your lounger as a seat. 
“Hey, can I ask you a strange question?” he said softly, resting his hand on your thigh and caressing your soft skin so gently that even you were surprised. Jungkook's touch was firm most of the time, indeed, you were very likely to feel his large hands land on some part of your body and give it a gentle but firm squeeze, never so light and delicate. 
You set your book down resting on your abdomen, lifting your sunglasses so you could get a better look at your boyfriend, “Sure, go ahead.” You noticed how his hand slowly made its way up to your inner thigh, his cheeks were slightly pink, but you had no idea if it was due to the strong sun today or if it was out of embarrassment.
“Can I eat you?” he lifted his gaze from your legs to your face, giving you the most depressing and tender lamb eyes possible, just the ones he always gave you when he wanted something from you. He knew perfectly well that they were your weakness, and he was more than willing to use it against you. 
“Here?” you laughed under your breath, looking around. You weren't in a public place, your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a medium sized pool in the backyard of his house, which to his luck had a fairly large wall that kept out the prying eyes of nosy people, but that didn't take away from the fact that you were still in an open place, and in the middle of the day to boot. 
“I promise I'll be quick, before you know it you'll be cumming on my tongue, I swear” he hastened to say, swinging his leg up and down. He watched your every expression, trying to see what your response would be and praying it would be positive.
“Okay, but don't even think I'll clean the deck chair” you sighed, putting your sunglasses back down and opened the book to the page you were left with. You knew well that Jungkook cared little and nothing about you putting all his attention on him when he licked your pussy, he always seemed to be so immersed in his own world when he did it.
“Yes!” he nodded quickly, settling quickly between your legs, letting them rest on his shoulders. His fingers gently removed the cool fabric from your skin. He had no plans to fuck, so he just pushed it aside, watching your intimacy intently as he licked his lips.
He kissed your inner thighs with utmost care, each kiss he gave was a kiss closer to your center, the place he wanted, no, needed to get to in order to continue his quiet day. His teeth gently tugged at your sensitive skin, causing you to stir from the lounger. From your position you had been able to feel his shit-eating grin as he saw your reaction.
You felt an electric current run up and down your spine the moment Jungkook ran his tongue along your slit slowly but firmly. You both let out a moan at the contact. “You taste so good...I don't think I can get over it” he laughed softly, kissing every bit of skin he could find. His fingers itched with the need he felt to get at least one inside you.
You brought one of your hands to his hair, stroking from it as Jungkook's kisses became increasingly messy and sloppy, slowly disturbing your breathing and the tingling in your lower stomach. 
He blew gently on your entrance, bringing his fingers to it so he could open it, plunging his tongue inside you. Jungkook had to hold your hips to keep them from lifting off the lounger, grunting against your pussy as he felt your fingers tugging at his hair. 
“Shit, so soon? You're seriously desperate” you muttered, letting your head fall back as your boyfriend moved his tongue inside you, touching just the spots he knew would provoke a reaction in your body. 
Jungkook completely ignored your comment, focusing solely on the sensation of your pussy enveloping his tongue tightly. He used one of his hands to hold your hips still while the other settled over your clit and gave it the attention he knew you loved. 
He wasn't wrong at all. 
Your back hunched slightly and your breathing became even more agitated. By this point your book had fallen to the side and you didn't even remember clearly what you read last, but you didn't mind at all, your boyfriend was making up for it in the best way.
You frowned as you felt his tongue slowly leave your insides and his fingers move away from your clit. You lowered your gaze to him, not quite understanding what he was planning to do.
He brushed the hair out of your eyes, wiping your chin with the back of his hand. His gaze never left your pussy, and you could feel from your place how he wanted to continue what he was doing. He gave you one last look before moving back down, but this time it was his mouth that started to play with your clit, causing your whole body to shudder. You had to cling to his hair to keep from losing your mind.
“Fuck” you moaned softly, too stunned to be able to say a full sentence. On his side, Jungkook was more than happy to suck and bite that little button he loved so much. He circled it with licks, bit it, pulled it with his teeth and sucked on it until his very lips felt numb, and it was only then that he decided to stick two of his fingers inside you, curving them right where he knew your G-spot was. His body trembled with pleasure as he heard you moan his name.
“You're squeezing my fingers pretty hard, are you going to cum yet?” he laughed teasingly, moving his fingers inside you faster than before, opening them once they were deeper inside you, he regretted teasing you the instant he felt you pull his hair so hard he feared you were going to pull a strand out of his head.
“Shit, shit, shit” you groaned through your teeth, futilely trying to push Jungkook away from your pussy, but he obviously wasn't going to allow that. He clung to your hips as if his life depended on it, trying to take every last drop of your cum, and even when you were done, he spent at least a minute giving little licks along your pussy until he was completely satisfied.
“I told you I wouldn't be long at all” he smiled proudly at you, wiping his chin awkwardly.
You rolled your eyes, fixing your swimsuit and getting up as best you could from the chair. Jungkook had to help you to another lounger due to the strong trembling of your legs, “Next time try to do it when I’m not busy, disrespectful” you laughed under your breath, letting your weight fall on the lounger.  
“Whatever the lady of the house says” he replied teasingly, leaning back next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and settling his head on your chest, ready to take a nap in your arms, with one of your hands in his hair and the other on your book.
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