#Edit: glad you all like him!!! I have not been able to stop thinking about Hatchetfield since NPMD came out! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thef1diary · 21 days

Text

Baby Jr | One

— Friendly Banter

Series summary: The teasing, fleeting touches became much more on the night Carlos won, the sexual tension between you two reached a breaking point. Perhaps it was that night, or the many nights that followed, but you were pregnant with his child, putting you in a difficult situation.

Series Masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

Warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut yet

wc: 2.9k

Note: here it is, the first chapter of many more to come. lemme know what you think, feedback is always appreciated.

You had caught the eye of a certain Ferrari driver from the moment you joined the team. He always looked at you in fascination, having the urge to find a way to figure you out but that's all it was for the longest time. Until it wasn't.

Carlos Sainz vividly remembers the first time he set his eyes on you. He was on his way to leave the headquarters in Maranello while you were on your way inside. Carlos' gaze was watchful, almost heavy with judgment as you hurried in through the doors with more items in your arms than you should've been able to carry.

He almost stopped you to ask who you were, but he noticed the badge clipped onto your jeans, media personnel. You had already passed him before he could read your name, and shook his head knowing that your name was the more important detail compared to your role.

You hadn't noticed him that day, but he noticed you.

He didn't see you again until the new season came around, having almost forgotten about your brief encounter at the end of the previous year. He had to do a double take once he saw you setting up the cameras for some content he was supposed to record along with his teammate.

It was a simple video that required the drivers to answer a few questions sent in by their fans, something that should've been easy since they've done it before. But he couldn't focus on anything but you. Given that you were the ones asking the questions, reading them off the short stack of cards you had in your hand, he wasn't outed for being distracted.

Knowing the drivers still had a busy day ahead of them, you began packing up the items once the video was filmed. Keeping your eyes locked on the task, you expected the drivers to be led away by their PR managers, so you were surely startled once you heard a voice acknowledging you.

Carlos stayed back, and roaming your gaze for a split second behind him, Charles had left. You knew who he was of course, after all you followed the sport for many years before you were given the opportunity to work for one of the teams.

"I don't think we properly met, I'm Carlos." He extended his hand out and you gladly accepted, shaking it while introducing yourself. You found it sweet that despite being one of the two faces of the team, he still introduced himself like you didn't know who he was.

As a junior media employee who was still relatively new to the team, you were informed in advance that you would rarely be interacting with the drivers.

So it wasn't surprising that while working in the same team, you rarely saw Carlos in person. Working under Silvia—the head of communications—you would usually be the one tasked to edit the challenge videos, creating enough content from various footage to keep the fans engaged. The few times you did see him in person was to conduct media challenges that the team planned every once in a while to give the fans a chance to know the drivers underneath their helmets.

As the season went on, you found that you were indeed given the wrong information; you did in fact meet the drivers again and again. You were given many opportunities to travel with the team, and it would've been absurd if you denied those opportunities—not that you had a choice since you were needed at almost every race.

You were glad to experience the thrill of Formula 1 from the front row seats, able to watch all the sessions in the weekend itself but also be a part of the journey with the drivers that not many people get to see.

It was inevitable to befriend many people along the way, especially with their welcoming nature despite some news outlets suggesting otherwise. Formula 1 could be considered as one giant family that obviously had issues every once in a while but no one outside of the sport could relate to them like each other. Especially since it was described like a traveling circus by a few drivers.

While you had befriended many other employees whether it was within your team or others, you also spoke to the other eighteen drivers often.

But no other driver invaded your thoughts like Carlos did.

You didn't know if you were overthinking it all, but you believed that Carlos was a tad bit too friendly compared to Charles or even any other driver for that matter.

Whether it was a compliment that left you a blushing mess, a lingering look that followed you until you left the room, or even a small graze of his fingers against your back while crossing your path, you couldn't think of anyone but him lately.

You heard a Monégasque accent calling your name and you slowed your pace, allowing him to catch up to you as you greeted without needing to look to see who it was, "Charles"

"Here, it's still hot," he was holding two disposable cups of coffee in his hands, extending one towards you.

You gestured to your own hands, carrying one too many things again.

He sighed, "I still don't know how you do that." He stopped walking as he neared a surface to put down the cups. "Here, give it to me," he spoke but didn't let you make a decision as he grabbed the various folders, a clipboard, and a tablet from your hands. You were still holding on to a tripod and a camera but he freed up one of your hands so you could hold the cup.

"I will have to let you know, that tablet you're holding, is very valuable to the team," you stated, mainly in a joking manner because you knew he wouldn't do anything to it.

"Oh is it now? What's on it?" Charles asked once you resumed walking, this time sipping on your coffee before answering his question. "First, perfect," you hummed, gesturing towards the cup. "Second, it has all the schedules for meetings, interviews, and everything that you or Carlos could possibly need a reminder for during the weekend."

He gasped, almost offended, "I do not need reminders for anything during the weekend, not like Carlos does."

Despite how it may seem, your role didn't entail being a driver's assistant. In fact your job was to manage a few social media accounts and create content that included the drivers as much as possible but every now and then you also helped the company keep the public images of the drivers reputable.

Lately, Carlos had been finding reasons to talk to you, and most of that time would be spent reviewing his schedule multiple times throughout the day.

"He can be a little forgetful sometimes," you commented but Charles shook his head.

"A little? He needed you to remind him what time the race was."

You grimaced, knowing Charles was correct. "Well, you're his teammate so you know him better than I do."

"Yeah, I guess I'll ask him, thanks for the coffee," Charles stated as you two entered a meeting room. There were still fifteen minutes before it started, but you preferred to use that time so you could prepare yourself for all the notetaking it usually required. Since you were still a fairly new employee, you wanted to absorb all the information like a sponge.

Confused, you responded back, "you're the one who got the coffee."

He placed the items he was holding on the table, then noticing the time on his watch, a brief gasp overtaking his expression. "Thanks for the company then, I'll see you later," he playfully winked like he always did before leaving the room.

Moments later, a knock distracts you from reviewing the previous notes and stats from the last meeting. Thinking it was Charles, you ask, "did you forget somet- oh, Carlos."

"Are you busy?" He asks as he leans his forearms on the back of a chair. Shaking your head you respond, "not really, what's up?"

"I forget how crazy the crowds can get outside, so can I stay here for a few minutes?" You smile, "of course you can, come sit." He rolled a chair out and sighed in relief after finally getting off his feet.

Carlos closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the moments of silence in his hectic life. It didn't last long as you hummed a random tune which you usually did while working. It was so faint but since it was completely silent otherwise, Carlos' ears perked up as he heard it.

Instead of looking for the moments of silence he thought he needed earlier to even do a simple task as breathing, Carlos leaned forward with his usual watchful gaze focused on you. "Are you planning on more ways for us to make a fool out of ourselves?" He asked.

You chuckled, "I would never do that." Carlos gave you a look that indicated he didn't believe you.

"The last challenge was planned by you, no?" He countered and when you sheepishly smiled, he knew he was correct.

"You know, Charles is right," you spoke after a few moments of silence.

"How so?" He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head for a moment that almost caused you to lose track of your thoughts. You've gotten better at keeping yourself calm and collected around Carlos lately, but you still took a little moment to appreciate how his muscles flexed in the full sleeved shirt he wore.

"There's a team debrief happening in about five minutes where you're needed, and it's a bit of a walk so I'm wondering if you're gonna reach in time." To confirm your words, he glanced at his watch, raising his eyebrows when he realized you were spot on.

"You know my schedule so well now," he couldn't help but comment, chuckling as he did so.

"Only because you forget it," you retaliated.

"Maybe I do that on purpose," he stood up, once again stretching to the point where the hem of his shirt raised a bit, revealing a sliver of skin that your gaze immediately shifted to. While you might've gotten better, you still needed a bit more practice every now and then. Carlos chuckled when you didn't have a response right away, knowing you were distracted but he didn't feel the need to expose you just yet.

As he pulled his shirt down, your eyes snapped to his, finally coming up with a response "and almost get me fired for making you late?"

He shrugged, "maybe." You knew he would never do such a thing that would jeopardize your job, so you shrugged off his comment.

"Go now, Sainz" you urged, waving your hand to emphasize your point.

"I'm going, I'm going, relax, cariño." You could hear his laugh as he left the room, and you didn't focus on the papers in front of you until his footsteps had faded away.

It was just friendly banter, you reminded yourself even after hearing the nickname he gave you. Sometimes your conversations were borderline flirtatious, but it was still fine. Until it wasn't.

As the year progressed further, you were no longer just an employee with a career in motorsport; you were a member of the team that celebrated each high while consoling and sticking together during the lows.

While your job wasn't directly connected to the race, nor could you help in changing the outcome like the mechanics and engineers could, you helped uplift the mood in the room on multiple occasions.

Which is why when Carlos stood on the top step of the podium, claiming his first place trophy that would eventually become a part of a larger collection, you felt like you won.

The spray of champagne reached the crowd of his team waiting below the podium. A laugh bubbled up your throat as Carlos tried to aim the spill of the drink in the team principal's mouth standing on the floor a few feet away from you.

A proud smile grew on your face as you watched the drivers and a representative from your team that collected the constructors trophy gathered together on the top step to take a photo.

The celebrations continued in the team garage, since both drivers made it on the podium. The energy buzzing through each member was noticeable, knowing that this win would be celebrated until the next. After the team photo was taken, the champagne popped once again.

A few people were able to get away from becoming soaked, others were being targeted. Charles managed to slip away, but Carlos couldn't. He happily accepted the spray, soaking his race suit further after the podium.

His eyes however, darted across the crowd and landed on you. Standing just out of reach of the champagne shenanigans but still close enough to celebrate, Carlos decided to pull you even closer.

Grabbing the bottle from the nearest person, he covered the top and shook it. Releasing his thumb, he let the fizzy drink spray out, directing it at you this time. "Carlos!" You shrieked, but laughing nonetheless.

Once satisfied, he took a sip from the bottle, his gaze fixed on you as yours moved down to his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob while he swallowed. Passing the bottle to you, you moistened your lips before tipping it up and sipping the cool champagne.

His attention was diverted as Charles had found another bottle of champagne, deciding to drench his teammate even further after the celebrations began to die down. You smiled as Carlos tried to run away, dodging the alcohol, but it quickly dropped once he used you as a shield.

"Oh, no, no, no," you held your hand out at Charles who smiled mischievously, stopping in his tracks right in front of you.

"You are a part of the team," he commented, and you almost ignored his words as you felt Carlos' hands rest on your waist from behind, feeling his breath on your neck.

The heat of your thoughts was ruined when Charles decided to rain champagne down on you, cooling you off instantly. "Charles," you groaned, knowing that it would be an excruciatingly long process to wash all the champagne out of your hair, especially if it began to dry soon.

The team began to disperse, rightfully so as everyone wanted to change out of their champagne soaked clothes, you included. Trying to wring out as much liquid as you could, you muttered a curse under your breath. This was the first time you ever experienced a win like today.

Speaking of, the winner of the race was standing off to the side, shirtless. Carlos had removed his fireproof top but still had his race suit zipped down to his waist and placed a cap on his head backwards to keep his hair out of his face.

You parted your lips and watched his back muscles flex as he moved around, then hastily looked away as he turned. You kept wringing your shirt as he moved past you, and despite the fact that there was enough space for him to pass you without touching you, his fingertips brushed over your back, down to your waist. He lingered on your hip for too long, but he didn't say anything, only smiled when you inhaled deeply.

You had returned to your hotel room and immediately rushed towards the shower. The champagne from earlier had dried, creating an unpleasant sensation as a layer of tackiness remained behind. Washing away all the sweat and champagne, you sighed in relief, standing underneath the shower for a few extra minutes to release all the soreness in your muscles.

You still felt the buzzing excitement of the day running through your veins as you dried and dressed yourself, but you were also exhausted, ready to climb into bed and drift away into the safety of your dreams.

That plan was interrupted as you heard a knock on the door. Pulling your shirt over your body, you peeked through the peephole, smiling when you saw him standing on the other side.

"Oh hello, don't tell me you forgot your room number," you greeted Carlos as you opened the door.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he was transfixed by the sight of your hair, still wet from your shower, dripping down to your shirt beginning to cling to your body.

"I think I did, tell me you don't remember it either," his voice dropped an octave, and his stare was no longer calculating, but rather enticingly seductive.

"And why would I do that?" You almost whispered, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him.

He stepped forward, leaning one arm on the doorframe while his gaze glanced over you to briefly look inside the room. "I'm sure yours is big enough for two people."

The corner of your lip turned up at his words, knowing it was just a ploy to let him in. The realization that he desired you just as much as you had grown to want him dawned on you as you stared at him standing in front of you.

Trapping your lip between your teeth for a moment, instantly attracting Carlos' gaze towards them, you nodded.

"Let's check," you stepped back, pulling him inside by the collar of his shirt.

——

Taglist is open!! Lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

@xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @gay-hoes-blog @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @fwhore1 @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @khaylin27 @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @teamnovalak @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport

#carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #babyjr fic #thef1diary fic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fluff

899 notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 2 months

Note

Hiii !! I wanted to request a reaction for Derek, Emily and Spencer

When Single Parent! Reader (GN is fine !!) has to bring their daughter to the BAU for a little bit and she won't stop following the Character around and doesn't want to leave "her new friend" when its time to go? Thank you sm in advance if you write it !! 💕💕

i might swing by later with a dif request, this was the first thing my sleep ridden brain blessed me with ;p

I love this so much (I have been in such a parent fic mood since writing the Dad Spence fic, Star thank you so much) - I think this idea is so adorable, I love it!!!

(I wrote Derek's part and then trailed off and left this in my drafts for a few days, so sorry if there's a huge disconnect between the characters' parts. Ooops.)

Requests are currently - OPEN

How would Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid react to your daughter becoming attached to them? (Derek, Emily, and Spencer x GN!Reader)

Warnings: mentions of corporate/white collar crimes (embezzlement, etc.); mentions of the reader being threatened by white collar criminals, mentions of criminals threatening to kill a child; as it says in the title, the reader has a daughter but the reader's gender is not described in any way; surprisingly, for this one, I didn't give the daughter a name. idk, I think that's it. (Edit: now fixed so that the reader is actually fully GN and I am so sorry about the mistake before!!!)

It was a pretty basic case. You were an attorney working on a large company merger - you had found evidence of millions of dollars being embezzled, and when you had copied the files with the intention of bringing them to the IRS, you had started receiving threatening letters. It weighed on your conscience - you knew that the men who ran the company had more than enough money and resources to make you disappear, likely leaving your daughter an orphan, leaving her to wonder what had happened to you for the rest of her life. When you received another letter with photos of your daughter at her preschool attached, now threatening her - you had made your decision fully.

You took your files and evidence to the BAU - you had met Rossi at a seminar he gave, talking about how sociopathy is incredibly common in corporate circles - how sociopaths do very well in corporate jobs due to their driven, goal oriented, emotionless nature. And warning signs to look out for if someone is using those traits to cross into dangerous territory. It was a seminar you had gone to out of curiosity, but you were glad that you had taken his card and you were able to contact him now.

He invited you to the BAU, and the team offered to take your case - to find out who was threatening you and bring them to justice.

Derek found you incredibly beautiful.

He was intrigued by your looks at first, and when Hotch mentioned that someone needed to interview you and get the full details from you in order for the team to get a better perspective on the case, Derek volunteered immediately. He hadn't gotten a full briefing - too eager to get to talk to you.

He came into the room with a bottle of water for you, looking to comfort you with his smile and his charms, and he was surprised when Penelope came back into the room and a small girl came barreling toward you, incredibly excited to tell you that she had gotten M&Ms from the vending machine (which Penelope had taken her to).

Typically, Derek didn't go for people who had kids. Any other time, with any other person - it would have immediately turned him off. It would have dampened your attractiveness in his eyes. He generally had a 'no single parents' policy, because he thought that dating someone with kids was just a lot of baggage. But seeing you - he was immediately taken with you. And seeing you with your daughter, somehow made you instantly more attractive.

And he thought the way that you scooped your daughter up into your lap and let her feed you M&Ms with her chubby little fingers was all too cute. It was unprofessional, but the case definitely wasn't the only thing on his mind that day.

Penelope took your daughter out of the room again while Derek interviewed you, and it was only when you spoke of the fear you felt for your daughter - the potential of her being her by the anonymous person, that you actually teared up. Derek couldn't help but to pull you in close, holding you tight in an effort to comfort you (secretly loving how tightly you hugged him back) - and it was in that moment that he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to protect you and your child. He would always keep the two of you out of harm's way.

And he certainly tried his hardest to accommodate your daughter when he found out that the two of you would be sticking around the office for the day - to ensure that you would be protected until the team found out who had sent the threats. He got her a kids meal with a toy when he ordered lunch, he knew there wasn't much in the office in the way of "toys" - but he swung by Garcia's office borrowed something she had that was fuzzy and lights up (with the promise of returning it) and he scrounged up a blank pad of paper and some coloured pens so your daughter could have something to do.

It wasn't surprising when she excitedly ran over to his desk and gave him a picture she had drawn of him - a very cartoonish muscled man with his same facial hair and an eggish bald head. His exaggerated features in the picture made you and Morgan laugh, and before you left the BAU for the day (when your safety was assured and the local police were on their way to arrest the men who had made the threats to you) - you found a different pen and wrote your number on the bottom corner of the picture for him.

He knew that something in you had changed him when he started thinking about taking you on a first date in the park - something your daughter could enjoy as well, rather than considering what bar or late night restaurant he was going to take you to.

Emily was surprised by the entire thing.

She hadn't been around children since, well - she was one. Due to events in her past, and due to the way her mother treated her, she never imagined herself being a parent. Ever. She was someone who thought that she was just naturally terrible with kids, like her own mom was. She hadn't met the person she thought that she could settle down with, so she never thought that kids were in the cards for her. So it definitely caught her off guard when your daughter seemed to take to her like a duck to water.

It was in her natural instinct to comfort you. You were so shaken up about the whole thing, the anonymous danger lurking in your life - and she took some extra time to assure you that things were going to be okay, that the team was the best, and they were going to catch whoever was doing this.

She thought it was a natural kindness to get down on your daughter's level and ask what she was playing with, to compliment her cute little doll and then take her down the hallway to grab a snack to give you a few minutes to breathe. The little girl was sweet and Emily didn't mind spending some extra time with her.

On their way back along, your daughter plucked a crossword puzzle book off Emily's desk and asked what it was, and Emily explained it - so then she took a few minutes to find some crosswords for children online and printed them out, and when she came to delivery them, alone with some pens, your daughter enthusiastically asked if Emily would sit and 'show her' - and while you said that Emily was busy and had other work to do, Emily shrugged and said she had a few minutes to spare. Again, she thought it was common manners, sitting with the girl on her lap while she guided her through the puzzles, praising her intellect when she got the answers right.

She didn't see the way you were looking at the pair, pure affection bubbling up in your eyes.

When the day was over, and it was cleared as safe for you and your daughter to return home, the little girl let out a loud complaint that she didn't want to leave her 'new friend Emily' - and Emily couldn't have predicted the way that those words tugged at something in her chest. She didn't know what led her to kneeling down at the girl's level, promising to see her that weekend when she had a free day - that was, if you didn't mind. Getting nothing but a bright smile from you, and feeling a certain spark there.

(She had to resist the urge to punch Morgan in the ribs when she walked back to her desk to nothing but teasing, how she was getting 'the whole family package' on 'her first date'.)

Spencer found the whole thing (secretly) adorable.

It is no secret that Spencer loves kids. He is very good with kids, and it's clear by the way he acts around kids that he definitely wants kids of his own someday. He hasn't met 'the one' yet - the person that he's going to have kids with. Whether that's through the natural, old-fashioned way or through adoption. But he did always imagine that if he raised kids of his own, it would be from infancy.

He never imagined that the person he was meant to be with would stumble into his life with a child that was already walking and talking - but when he met you and your daughter, it felt so right. Even if the circumstances were a bit dark.

He interviewed you about the whole situation, and when you apologized for crying and getting emotional, he was quick to assure you that it was natural - you were shaking, and though Spencer was usually someone to avoid touch, he found his need to hold you so overwhelming. He didn't regret his choice to wrap his arms around you when you hugged him back tightly.

When your daughter burst into the room (no longer occupied making paper airplanes with Emily and JJ), she was quick to ask why you were crying, extending out a small chubby finger to point at you, seemingly warbling with half-baked tears of her own at seeing you so upset. Spencer knelt down and assured her that everything was going to be okay, and then he moved to distract her by taking the little paper airplane out of her hand and telling her that he knew a trick to make it fly so much farther.

And he did. It was simple aerodynamics and folding techniques. And then they stood near the top of the bullpen, silently trying to get Morgan to look up by flying planes onto his desk - and the man couldn't bring himself to get too mad when he heard childish giggling coming from your daughter every few minutes.

You truly felt those butterflies for Spencer turn into more when he showed your daughter a trick that ended with a fake flower somehow coming out of his sleeve - something feathery and pink that he tucked behind her ear for her to keep, having her smiling and laughing brightly on a day where you had been wracked with worry, fearing for her life.

By the time the day was over and both of your safety was assured, you weren't surprised that she didn't want to leave him. And you made the bold move, telling him (rather than asking him) - that he should come over for dinner and a movie on Saturday, and then leaning over to gently whisper in his ear that the two of you could enjoy a another, more adult flick after your daughter was tucked into bed. Your daughter was too excited at the prospect of seeing Spencer again, tugging on his pant leg, waiting for him to agree - and he was speechless at the implications of what you had said.

He couldn't even think of the word 'no' if he tried.

So, it was a date, then.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

#star-mum #interactions #requests #requested #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

538 notes · View notes

whatsk-poppinhomies · 9 months

Text

Pairing : Bang Chan x F!Reader x Lee Minho TW : pregnancy ; cheating ; lots of arguing ; physical fighting ; lots of angst ; mention of blood ; a famous whatsk-poppinhomies cliffhanger ; Word Count : 5.8k Request : Anonny : Y/n is pregnant by one of them but he either cheats or fucks up or they break up before they know she is pregnant. She starts dating the other who is willing to accept the kid as his own but when her ex finds out she is pregnant, there will be drama (your choice which drama. maybe he wants her back, doesnt want the baby, is mad at the other one since they are in the same band etc) AN : This is such a fun request, just the right amount of angst and I can also make it fluffy at times, but mostly angsty. It took me a little bit to figure out who I wanted to be the "good guy" in the fic, but I finally came to the conclusion of who it would be, and I think, I HOPE, you'll enjoy this. Thank you for requesting!!

There were always rumors, scandals, posts all over the internet about how cute Minho and some other female idol would look together. There were pictures posted, even edits made of the two where his eyes would linger on her just a little longer than usual, his lips pulling up at the corners when she’d flip her hair or do something almost sickeningly cute. It was a smile that you thought only you received, but whenever you brought it up he’d get irritated, telling you that you were being ridiculous and reading into things too much.

He had never given you a reason to not trust him though, so you’d always apologize. His reasoning always seemed so valid too. He was supposed to act that way when he was MCing, it’s not like he could show the world that he was annoyed and not having a good time. You’d always let it slide, hugging him and giving him a kiss as you continued to apologize for over thinking. It would be so much easier if you could just come out about the relationship, but, again, his reasons were solid as to why you shouldn’t. It was dangerous for you, it would only be a hassle, you wouldn’t be able to live normally ever again… And for that suggestion, you apologized once more.

Trust was important, especially when he was almost always away from home, either on tour or doing promotional meets with fans or mini concerts. It wasn’t hard to trust him either, especially when he had made it seem like he was miserable if he was anywhere but at home with you. That’s why you wanted to surprise him with a little visit while he was doing one of his little promotional tours around the country. The other guys had even helped you set it up, making sure that Minho had not a single clue that you were coming until you showed up.

“Surpri…se…” The word that had started out as a cheerful announcement slipped into a whisper before you went completely silent. Minho stood in the center of the dressing room, his hands on the hips of the female idol that wasn’t even a threat, at least, that’s what he had told you before. Their lips had been locked, her chest pressed against his, and there was no reason… There was no bullshit excuse that he could come up with that could explain away what you had just seen.

“Honey… I-” You didn’t give him time to talk, turning away from the room and walking as fast as you could down the hall that would lead you to the exit door. “Y/N, come back!” You heard him call after you, his footsteps getting louder and louder as he got closer until his fingers were wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back towards him and making you stop. “Listen…” He pleaded breathlessly, but you shook your head, your mouth hanging open as you let out a short gasp of disbelief. “I didn’t think you were coming… No one told me…”

“Oh? You want to blame the guys for me finally catching you? That’s asinine.” You pulled your hand away from him, crossing your arms over your chest just to be sure he wouldn’t try to grab you again. “I’m glad I saw it… At least I won’t be made a fool of anymore. You were really good at hiding it though, I give you that. And you were damn good at pretending that you actually gave a shit about me.”

“I do give a shit about you, that’s why…” You sighed loudly, running his hands through his hair. “That’s why I hid it from you… I didn’t want to hurt you…” He whispered, taking a step closer, but you kept the distance, backing away from him. “You weren’t supposed to find out… Not like this at least. I was gonna tell you… I’m… I’m not proud of it… I was gonna stop things with her. I love you… I just needed to say goodbye to her. That’s what that was…”

His arms reached out to you but you swatted them away, unable to hold back the look of disgust that washed over your face. “Don’t even bother. She can have you… I don’t… I can’t even look at you right now. You make me sick.” The words shot through your lips like bullets, and while you felt so strong right now saying them, you knew that once your back was turned to him and you gave yourself the time to actually let it sink in what had happened, you’d be a wreck.

“Don’t say that… We can talk about this. Honey, come on… Just talk to me… Don’t leave.” Minho pleaded, stepping closer to you once more, and you hated that he had the nerve to get upset, to have the gull to start crying as if you were the one that's hurting him. You scoffed, pushing him away from you and taking two steps back just to make sure the space between the two of you was wide enough that hopefully he’d finally get the hint to stay away. “Honey…”

“What’s goin’ on out here?” Chan asked as he stepped out of his own dressing room, his eyes that had been bright and sparkling the first two seconds immediately losing their shine when he felt the tension in the hallway. “Seriously… What’s going on?” His voice lost that cheerfulness it had once carried, and now he was more serious, his eyes darting between you and Minho.

“I don’t know, you tell me, Christopher.” You snapped, and his eyes widened in shock at the tone of your voice. “Or better yet, if you’re truly so fucking clueless, how about you ask Minho… or you could ask the girl he was swapping spit with in his dressing room. I couldn’t care less though, I’m going home.” You turned on your heel, heading to the exit door once more, and you could hear Minhos strained voice calling your name, but you didn’t look back… You didn’t want to take that last look at what you had lost.

The promotional tour had ended, but throughout it you had received multiple texts from Minho asking to talk or meet up. There were calls from the other guys too, but you were busy, far too busy with packing up all of his things, throwing away every single reminder of the relationship that you had put so much faith into just for it to fall apart in one fell swoop.

It was crazy how fast you had fallen in love with him, and how long it took for you to lose that feeling. Even though he had hurt you, even though you had literally seen it with your own two eyes, you loved him. You had to constantly remind yourself that if you were foolish enough to go back that you’d just end up hurt again, probably even worse than before. You weren’t a fool, you wouldn’t let him hurt you, and you knew that if he got you back, he’d just think he could do it again, and he would do it again, he’d just be sneakier this time.

The sound of the lock on your door being undone had you turning your head, and you knew that the only person who had the keys was Minho, and it was a good thing that he had come. His things had been piled up next to the front door for a week now and it was about damn time that he finally came to collect them.

“He was too nervous to come over…” Chan said as he sheepishly walked through the front door, closing it softly behind him and eyeing the multitude of black trash bags on the floor before looking back at you. “I’m sorry he did that to you. If I had known, I would have told you…” He whispered, and you slowly nodded your head, although you failed to believe that he would actually go against one of the guys just to protect your feelings. “Do you need anything? Have you eaten?”

“I don’t need you to pretend to care on his behalf. The only thing I need is for his shit to be gone so that I can forget about all of you and you all can forget about me and we can all just move on with our lives and I can pretend I wasn’t the idiot that got played by him.” You sniped, pushing yourself up off the couch and grabbing one of the many bags. “I’ll help you take his stuff to your car if that’ll get rid of you all faster.”

He blinked a few times before grabbing the bag from your hands and softly placing it down on the floor once again. “I’m not pretending to care. I’ll get his shit out of your house…” His hands ran over his face as he let out a long sigh. “I understand why you’re saying these things, but I don’t think you really believe that we’d just forget about you. We’ve been texting you nonstop… You had to have seen it.”

“I have seen it, and I’d really like for you all to stop. It was easy for him to forget about me and we were dating… I think it’ll be way easier for you and the rest of the guys.” You retorted, picking up the bag again and pushing it into his arms. “You’re all making it harder for me to just move on, and I need to move on…” You promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, you didn’t want to cry, he didn’t deserve a single tear to be shed over him, yet here you were, sniffling with tears welling up… You really were a fool.

“It’s hard to move on because you’re not giving yourself something to take your mind off of him.” Chan murmured, dropping the bag once more, carelessly now though, and moving closer to you. His arms loosely wrapped around you, and as much as you didn’t want to be close to anyone that was close to Minho, the hug was comforting, you hadn’t had anyone there to really comfort you through the entire thing, and it was nice to just be able to cry and let it all out.

“I don’t know how to stop thinking about him… He’s everywhere…” You mumbled against Chans chest, a blubbering mess now as you gripped onto his shirt that was becoming soaked with the tears that you shed. “I hate him… I hate all of you… You just remind me of him too…” You weakly pushed against his chest, but he held you closer, soothingly brushing his fingers through your hair as he shushed you.

“It’s gonna be okay… I promise it will.” He cooed, his cheek resting against your forehead. “Whenever you start to think of him, just call me… I’ll talk to you, I’ll get your mind off of him. We can talk for hours if that’s what you need. If you want to go out, I’ll take you out, wherever you want to go. Even if you just need to get out of the house… I’ll take you to the studio, you can sit and watch me work on songs. I just want to help you…”

“Why are you trying so hard…?” You whimpered, looking up at him with glassy eyes that had his heart slowly breaking, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe your tears for you as he told you the truth, but he knew that you weren’t ready for that, and he wasn’t ready for it either. He needed you to be better first.

“Because he made the mess and he’s got too much pride to clean it up himself. I care about you though… And I’m gonna make sure you’re okay.” He said softly, hesitantly reaching up to brush the tears from your cheeks. “I’m gonna take his shit to the car, and if you want, I can stay here and we can talk or just… I’m gonna order food for you, whether you want me to stay and eat with you or not… But… I want to make sure you’ve eaten. Okay?”

You nodded weakly, taking a step back as you swallowed thickly before clearing your throat. “You can eat… stay… eat with me…” You stammered, rubbing your hands against your thighs, the embarrassment of what just happened finally setting in. “I’m sorry for that… Don’t… Don’t tell him I cried… Please…”

Chan chuckled, ruffling your hair before placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the couch and waiting for you to sit before dropping down onto the cushions himself. “I’m sure he already knows you’ve cried, but I wouldn’t tell him anyway. I haven’t really talked to him about anything other than work since that happened.” He explained, pulling his phone out to order food. “So what are you feeling? What do you wanna eat?”

///

Becoming close to Chan wasn’t in your itinerary, it wasn’t planned at all, but you found yourself craving his presence, wanting to hear his voice all the time, comforted by the warmth that emanated off of him when he sat beside you. He had become such an important part of your healing process, that after a couple weeks, it didn’t even feel like you needed to be healed anymore, you just wanted him around.

Your mind had been so busy for so long, and it was a good thing, you needed to keep your mind off of everything for a bit, but you didn’t realize how busy you had been until you got the notification on your phone from your period tracking app. Make sure to log your periods for better accuracy. You stared at the notification with furrowing eyebrows, your mind becoming a calculator as you tried to remember when the last time was that you had gotten your period.

How long had it been? You quickly opened the app, going back to the last logged date and then to your calendar to see just how long it had been. 8 weeks… how could you not notice for almost two months that you hadn’t gotten your period at all? You couldn’t have possibly been that frazzled… right?

“Hey Channie… Can you get something from the store for me when you have the time?” You texted him, not knowing who else to go to, and the last thing you wanted to do was get the tests yourself. You needed to take what little time you had to process what you would do if those tests gave you the most life altering reading.

“Yeah sure! Is everything okay? You need some girly things, huh? I can get you your favorite snacks too and we can hang out.” He texted back, and you wished, you really wished that girly things were what you needed, and you were nervous to even tell him what you actually needed. What would he do? Would he be upset? Would he be angry? It’s not like you planned for something like this if it were the case… It wasn’t 100% your fault. But you knew 100% who’s it would be. It’s like you couldn’t forget him… you’d never be able to forget him.

“Uhm… No. Well… I’d really like it if we could still hang out… But I need uhm… pregnancy tests…” You sent the text as fast as you could, waiting long enough for it to say delivered before turning off the screen and throwing your phone to the end of the bed. This was just what your luck would bring you, right? You would never be able to escape Minho, not fully. You would never move on, and the worst part was that you were really starting to feel like you could, like you would… The feelings that were beginning to bloom for Chan… They would never be returned…

Your phone vibrated next to your feet, and you were scared, so scared of his response, but then it started vibrating more, longer, and you knew it was a phone call. What if he had told Minho? Your hands shook as you grabbed your phone, your eyes closed until the screen was right in front of your face, slowly opening your eyes to see Chans name on your screen.

Hesitantly you answered, bringing the phone to your ear with a soft sniffle. “Why didn’t you answer? Are you okay?” He asked, worry lacing his voice and you could hear wind whipping around him through the speaker. “You’re crying… Did something happen? Tell me…” He urged, and you could barely get the words out of your mouth to answer him.

“I thought… That you’d be mad… Or that you’d tell Minho… I don’t want him to come back, I don’t want to give him a reason to come back in my life…” You just barely whispered into the speaker, your knees pulled up against your chest, holding onto them tightly. “I’m so scared, Chris… I don’t want to do this alone, I can’t…”

“I’ll be over soon… Don’t worry. Even if it’s positive, you won’t have to do it alone. I’m still gonna be here, I’d never leave you… I hope you know that, and remember that. You’re stuck with me.” He chuckled softly, and your laughter that followed was a little too sad, but at least you were laughing, and at least you knew that you had him.

///

“SKZ Leader Christopher Bang, also known as Bang Chan, seen heading into OBGYN office with mystery pregnant girlfriend.”

The report had caught Minhos eye as soon as he saw it, and for many reasons. Chan had never mentioned having a girlfriend, and he had definitely never mentioned becoming a dad any time soon. Judging by the pictures that had been posted, the supposed girlfriend looked to be pretty far along, at least 6 or 7 months into the pregnancy. Chan would have slipped up by now, and Minho couldn’t think of a reason why he’d want to hide such big news from the guys. He’d talk to him about it, maybe Chan was scared that the guys would be upset… Maybe that was it… Minho would congratulate him first, let him know that he wasn’t mad, he was actually quite proud. He knew that Chan would make a good father, especially considering he was basically a dad to the other 6 guys.

“Hyung!” Minho called out when Chan came into the practice room, running over to the leader and patting him on the back. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend… You’re hiding a lot of things. You’re gonna be a dad too!” Minho expected the initial fear to wear off after a couple seconds, but Chans eyes stayed wide as he stared at Minho a little longer than he liked. “You… Didn’t see the headlines?” Minho asked, and Chan quickly shook his head, pulling out his phone and groaning loudly when he saw that it wasn’t just headline news, it was on the front page of NAVER.

“Fuck… I gotta call Y/N…” Chan mumbled, and Minho felt like he had been punched hearing your name come out of Chans mouth. It had to be a coincidence, there was no way that Chan could do something like that to him… right? Now he was nosy, listening in on the call that Chan was making, trying to make it seem like he was paying attention to his own phone so he wouldn’t leave the room. “I want you to stay in the house no matter what until I get there, okay? Keep the doors locked just in case they followed us after the appointment, and don’t answer the door for anyone. No… No, I don’t think he knows. He’s the one who saw it… He came to me… No, he doesn’t recognize it’s you. I know… I know, it’s gonna be okay, darling. I love you… I’ll be home soon. Promise… Yes. I love you more… Okay… Just relax, I got you that ice cream you’ve been craving. Mmhm… Yup… Alright, I love you so much. Hugs and kisses… Mwah.”

Listening to the conversation had Minho looking back at the report, really looking at the pictures now. The nose, the hair, the eyes… It was all you… It was you. The pain that he had felt after the initial gut punch now turned to anger as he pushed himself away from the wall and went straight over the Chan. “Who were you on the phone with? Huh? Tell me right now. Tell the truth!” Minho shouted, already pushing Chan back, shoving him until he was cornered against the mirrored walls that reflected the scene.

“Stop… It was my girlfriend, you’re being ridiculous.” Chan tried to keep calm, attempting to slide away from Minho, but he was pushed against the mirror once more, the image momentarily warped as the glass vibrated. “Stop it!” Chan said more firmly now, trying to keep Minho back, but his anger was fueling him, driving him to continue pushing against Chan until the mirror started to crack, and even then, he wouldn’t stop.

“Your girlfriend is my ex! You lousy, no-good, piece of shit!” Minho screamed, catching a glimpse of the crack that was making its way up the mirror, bound to shatter at any moment now. “When did you start dating? You thought you could just move in on my girlfriend because she was upset?! You’re a fucking asshole, you know that!”

“Well why the hell do you care anyway?!” Chan shouted back, finally getting angry enough to push Minho away from him, but he didn’t want to hurt him, he just wanted him to stop. He needed him to stop. It would be no good if either of them got hurt, and the reports would be no better if it came out that they were fighting like this. “You cheated on her! She’s happy now! It’s not like I started dating her as soon as you broke up anyway… It just happened… I’m taking care of her, you should be happy that someone actually loves her.”

Minhos fists balled up at his sides, but then the math started adding up in his head, but it didn’t actually add up… You had caught him cheating only 5 months ago, and if his visual assumption of how far along you were was correct, that would mean… “Who’s the father? Is it you? How far along is she?” The questions came out in rapid succession, and Chans eyes fell to the floor, it was answer enough, but he wanted to hear it. “Answer me!” Minho shouted once more, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white.

“I’m the father! Whether the DNA says so or not, and that’s what matters!” Chan sniped back, and Minho swore he saw red, his fist flying before he even had the chance to think about what he was doing. His knuckles connected with Chans face full force, causing the leader to stumble back, his bottom lip busted and blood trickling down to his chin. “You can fight me… You can beat the shit out of me… But I’m not leaving her. The kid isn’t yours… She’ll have my last name. She’ll call me dad. She wouldn’t want a cheater as a father anyway.”

“Fuck you…” Minho muttered before his arm pulled back to punch him once more, but the practice door swung open, and in a second all of the guys were around him, pulling him away from Chan. There was so much going on, but Minhos eyes never left Chan. He wasn’t his leader, he wasn’t his band member… He sure as hell wasn’t his brother… He had stolen his family away. “Must be nice to just have the family already made for you, isn’t it?!” Minho shouted as he was being dragged out of the practice room by Changbin and Jisung as the other guys stayed behind to make sure Chan was okay.

///

“What do you mean he found out?!” You shrieked from the couch, your heart racing as your eyes darted to the door. Would Minho come to the house? Was he on his way now? “Are you okay? Are you coming home?” You asked, completely on edge, and your nerves being so high was setting off your daughter who refused to sit still now.

“Just relax, darling. I’m fine, and he’s not going to come over. The guys have him out in the hall right now trying to calm him down, they know what’s going on… They’re not going to let him leave.” Chan tried to reassure you, but it was all for nothing when you heard Changbins voice in the background. “He ran off… I think he’s going over to Y/Ns… You should probably go…” You heard Chan sigh loudly before his voice was heard again. “Keep the door locked… It’s locked right? Don’t answer it, for the love of god, don’t answer. Just stay quiet… I’ll be home as soon as I can, I swear. Stay on the line with me though.”

“God dammit!” You shouted, carefully pushing yourself up off the couch and heading into the bedroom. “I knew we should have gone to an office out of the city… I told you this would happen.” It’s not that you were trying to argue with Chan, it was the last thing you wanted to do, but you had told him from the get-go that it wasn’t a good idea to go to any of the doctors close to his work.

“Sue me for wanting you to have the best doctors in Korea.” Chan snapped back, and you heard his car door slam shut and then the rumbling of the engine as he turned the key. “Don’t blame me for this shit. It’s not my fault that you ended up pregnant by him, I didn’t have to do anything for you, but I love you enough to be here and you’re gonna get bitchy with me because he finally found out. It was bound to happen at some point.”

You scoffed loudly, running a shaky hand through your hair. “It wasn’t just for me, asshole! It was to protect you from your crazy ass fans. But I guess they were bound to find out at some point too?” You retorted, your eyes prickling with tears of anger as you sat on the edge of your bed. “I didn’t ask you to be here, if I remember correctly, I wanted you all out of my fucking life. You insisted on staying! So don’t you dare try to blame me either!” You took a shaky breath, pulling the phone away from your face so he wouldn’t hear you crying. “If that’s the way you feel though… Don’t come home. I’ll just talk things out with Minho, maybe we can work out an agreement for child support or something and you all can be gone like I wanted.”

“Stop. I never said that, don’t twist my words.” He mumbled, and the engine revved as his car sped up. “I don’t want you talking to Minho at all, I’ll handle him when I get back home. I’m coming home. I’m not… I’m not mad at you… I love you, and I love the baby… I got punched in the fucking face and now I have to worry about Minho weasling back into your life and I’m just stressed… That’s all.” He sighed softly, his fingers drumming lightly against the wheel as his turn signal ticked. “Please don’t cry, darling… Not over my words, I didn’t mean them. I really didn’t…”

“I’m stressed too…” You whispered back, your head leaning against the headboard as you watched through the little slits in the blinds of your bedroom, waiting to see Chans car pull up. “I just wanted things to be easy… For us to be happy. I guess I’m stupid for wanting that though… Especially knowing that-” There was a loud banging at the front door causing your heart to skip a beat before you jumped up out of the bed and peeked through the blinds. “He’s here… What do I do? Channie, what do I do?”

“I’m almost home, just stay in the bedroom. He doesn’t have the key, he can’t get in.” Chan rushed the words out, and while they were supposed to calm you, you could hear the panic in his own voice. “Fucking traffic! Come on!”

“Y/N I know you’re home!” Minhos voice shouted from outside the house as his fists came down against the door once more. “We need to talk! I know she’s mine! Let's just talk about this!” It seemed like the more he spoke, the louder he got, and you were shrinking into the bed deeper and deeper with every single word. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that, at least not the way he had hurt Chan, but you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger either.

“Get away from my house.” You heard Chan both through the phone and outside the window, and you quickly hung up to run to the front door, but your movements became slow once your hand was on the lock. If you unlatched it too quick, Minho would come in, you needed to wait for Chan. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. You don’t need to see her, you don’t need to be here, so just go back to the dorms or go practice.”

“Easy for you to say. It’s not actually your kid. You get to play the hero for Y/N and my daughter… Must be real fucking nice.” The argument continued outside of the door, and Chans voice was so close, he could come in… But Minhos voice was just as close… You didn’t want to take any chances. “You wouldn’t even know her if it weren’t for me! You were just waiting for your chance to steal her away from me!”

“What are you talking about?!” Chan screeched, and you felt your heart rate spike, your hand shaking as you started to unlock the door. You didn’t want anything to happen to Chan, he had already been hit once, you didn’t know how far Minho would go. “You cheated on her! She left you! Just go away!”

You quickly pulled the door open and both their heads whipped in your direction. Chan was the first to come in, pushing past Minho and wrapping his arms around you to pull you away from the door. “You really need to go, Minho…” You whispered shakily, your hands moving to Chans and holding onto them tightly.

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” Minho said flatly, walking into your house and slamming the door behind him. “You start dating my friend while you’re pregnant with my daughter and you both were going to try to hide it from me!? Now you expect me to just walk away like this isn’t happening?!” His eyes lowered to your stomach, his breath hitching in his throat as he took one small step closer to you. “You don’t think I’ll just walk away from this… do you? I’m not that kind of person.”

You looked up at Chan who rolled his eyes at Minhos words, and then your head dropped. “I wish you would… I wish you had never found out. It took so long for me to get over you, and things were going just fine.” You mumbled, sniffling softly. “It’s not fair… You cheated on me, and then you want to try to come back… Why? I don’t want to confuse her…”

“We can get back together.” Minho stated as if it were the obvious choice, his hands reaching out to grab yours, but Chan was adamant on that not happening, his own fingers lacing with yours and moving your hands to your side. “I don’t want her to be confused either, but she deserves to have her real father in her life.” He eyed Chan smugly as he said it, and you felt him tense up behind you, his breaths heavy against your neck. “You know that I love you, more than anything else in the world. We could be a family, the perfect family…”

“Will you shut up?” Chan said quite sternly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, something that made Minhos hand twitch as it clenched to a fist at his side. “You don’t know how hard it was for her to get over you, and I will not just sit by and let you fuck it all up!” He carefully moved you behind him as he stood face to face with Minho, his chest puffed out, flexing his muscles and chesting Minho back towards the door. “She doesn’t want you, she doesn’t want you back, and she doesn’t want to play family with you!”

“Oh I’m the one that would be playing family? You’re trying to play father to another man’s kid! You took advantage of my one mistake… Did you tell her though? Did you tell her that after that I’d sit up at night crying because I fucked up so bad? Did you tell her that I haven’t been with anyone else since that day?! Or did you only tell her the shit that benefited you?” Minho sniped back, his own chest puffing out, and truthfully, you were scared for both of them. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

“I told her what would benefit her. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand that though considering you didn’t even think enough about her to not cheat when she was yours. So don’t you dare try to come into our house acting like you give a shit now because you found out she’s pregnant. The kid is sadly only yours biologically, but that doesn’t mean shit where it counts.” Chan retorted, taking a step back, being the bigger person to try to keep a physical fight from happening. “Now if you were smart, you’d leave… I suggest that you be smart and that you get out… now.”

Minho huffed loudly, his eyes like daggers as he looked between you and Chan, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants as he leaned against the door. “You know I’ll be back… She’s my daughter… And if you won’t let me be a solid part of her life, I’ll just go to court. I’m going to see me kid, whether you want me to or not.” His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as a coy smile spread across his lips, his eyes solely on you now. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

822 notes · View notes

melancholy-of-nadia · 10 months

Text

Thursday Night (m) | jjk

title: Thursday Night (Boba & Ride) pairing: jungkook x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; SEVEN alt. AU, college / university au, friends to lovers summary: Just another day of Jeon Jungkook waking you up in the middle of the night to get boba tea with him across town at your favorite late-night spot, Pekoe. Turns out, this is not just another nightly outing to get boba, but also a chance for the two of you to finally get out of this sexually-charged friend-zone and fuck in his Mercedes Benz G-Wagon. warnings: car sex, vaginal fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, breast play, nipple licking, unprotected sex (well, reader is on the pill), RIDING, slight choking, creampie, body worship, Jungkook is wearing SWEATS, implied that jk vapes, awkward positions in the car bc they are HORNY and don’t care note: okay, so i originally wrote the first part of the wholesome boba date a year ago after Left & Right came out (and made it kinda based on my late night boba runs with friends in college pre-pandemic). But I never finished it, until Seven came out a few days ago and SUDDENLY I WENT BACK TO THIS AND DID A 180 AND SLAMMED SOME SMUT ON IT. VERY SPICY. Thank you for the whore thoughts, Jungkook. Thank you @daegudrama for editing and fixing the messy smut. Stream Seven!! and FEEDBACK & Comments are much appreciated !!

total word count: 4.5k drop date: july 17th, 2023, 10:30am PST CROSS POSTED ON AO3 (honeyjamjoon is my user on there) - -

Dozing off slowly as your mind wanders through the stages of sleep to reach REM, you’re suddenly interrupted by a distant ringing sound in the distance.

It sounds like… your phone? You recognize the familiar “Shooky Shooky” theme song of your favorite cartoon cookie and his 7 pals you set as a ringtone weeks ago.

Waking up with eyes still heavy from sleep, you reach your hand out to grab your phone from your bedside dresser. You squint at the bright screen seeing who the random caller is that is getting in the way of your slumber before you wake up later for another dreaded day of uni classes..

Jeon Jungkook.

Of course it was him, you think. He’s the friend you made at the beginning of the semester in your Japanese class, where he found out that both of you took the class to be able to watch anime without subtitles. Just a pair of total weebs.

Then you kept running into him at university club events, specifically the Korean Student Association Curry & Karaoke night where both of you fangirled (fanboyed?) over IU and spent an entire night singing her discography while taking soju shots together. At this point, you knew he was just destined to be your bestie for life.

However, Jungkook has a terrible sleep schedule where he sometimes stays up until crackhead hours to do random things like late night drives (yes, he is paying the ridiculous parking permit fee to have his car on campus). He had previously invited you to get some In-N-Out with him and his upperclassmen friend Namjoon which resulted in a late night drive where you ended up on top of a mountain about 40 minutes away from campus at 1am.

While the view of the city down below was nice, you couldn’t stop freaking out about how to get back to your uni with the terrible data reception showing no map directions. Namjoon did his best to help you remain calm from a pending panic attack while Jungkook giggled, but reassured you that everything would be fine and he would figure it out. And he did. Never had you been so glad to be back on campus with some leftover animal style fries in hand.

Not many drives with Jungkook were that adventurous, but they were all late at night. Which you didn’t like due to the fact that you liked to sleep early and wake up early for your morning classes. Very contrasting dynamics being best friends with a night owl.

You answer the phone in a raspy, sleepy voice, “Hey Jungkook, what’s up.”

“Hey— were you asleep? Sorry, I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out and get some boba, but—”

“NO!” You answer immediately. “I was taking a power nap, I AM UP! I WILL GO GET BOBA WITH YOU!”

Your voice is suddenly loud with excitement through Jungkook’s phone speaker. You’re glad you live in a single room in your 4 bedroom dorm apartment where loud sounds aren’t as easily heard by your roommates.

“REALLY? OKAY! Let’s meet in front of my dorm building. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Boba will really get you to do anything, especially when it might be the spot Jungkook loves to take you to that is across town. It closes at 1:30am and also has a club-like aesthetic where a lot of people go to hang out at night. There are gaming consoles and a pool table, but the drinks are sadly non-alcoholic. Still good though.

Wearing a black hoodie and your old black volleyball shorts, you head out to the front of the building next door where you find Jungkook sitting on a bench under a streetlight’s glow. He is wearing a black t-shirt and jacket, contrasting his white pants.

He looks good, you think as you walk up to him. He’s texting someone before he looks up at you.

“So are we getting boba or should I head back to sleep?” You giggle pointing to the parking lot to signal him to get up from the bench.

“Oh, we’re getting boba for sure and you won’t be sleeping anytime soon.” He speaks starting to head towards his black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon in the parking lot while you follow behind him. Suspicious phrasing, but you brush it off. You have a dirty mind after all.

“So, we’re going where exactly?” "Pekoe! My favorite boba spot in town," Jungkook replies with a mischievous grin. "I've been craving their Taro Taro. It's like drinking a purple cloud!" He exclaims excitedly.

You laugh at his description, knowing he has a knack for making even the simplest things sound exciting. As you hop into the passenger seat of his car, you fasten your seatbelt. "And what about you? What's your drink choice tonight?"

He glances at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Well tonight, I'm getting my fav from there! Pretty in Pink! Jasmine milk tea with strawberry sounds like the perfect combination of sweet and floral."

He nods in approval. It was just another testament to how well you knew each other's preferences. The car roars to life as Jungkook starts the engine, the soft purr resonating through the vehicle. I love being the passenger princess when Jungkook is driving.

As the two of you drive through the city streets, the night envelopes you in a sense of tranquility. The familiar sights pass by, but tonight they seem different. There is an undercurrent of excitement, a subtle shift in the air that mirrors the budding emotions in your heart.

Jungkook, always one to fill the silence, begins cracking jokes and making silly comments, aiming to make you laugh. And laugh you do, your genuine giggles filling the car with warmth and joy. You can’t help but be drawn to his infectious laughter and the way he effortlessly brings a smile to your face.

As you approach Pekoe, the neon sign glows in the night, welcoming you to its cozy embrace. The two of you step out of the car, the scent of freshly brewed tea swirling around you. Inside, the ambiance is lively, with people chatting, sipping their drinks, and enjoying each other's company.

You join the line, eagerly waiting for your turn to order. As you reach the counter, the friendly barista takes your requests, preparing the Taro Taro and Pretty in Pink with skillful hands. The drinks are handed to you in their signature, vibrantly lit cups, and you can't help but admire the aesthetic.

With your boba in hand, you find a cozy corner in the café, settling into plush seats. The first sip of your Pretty in Pink sends a burst of flavors dancing on your tongue, the sweet strawberry complementing the fragrant jasmine tea perfectly. Jungkook's eyes widen in delight as he takes his first sip of the Taro Taro, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

As you sit there, enjoying your drinks and engaging in light-hearted banter, you can't ignore the subtle change in your feelings as of late. The laughter, the shared moments, and the genuine connection you have formed with Jungkook begin tugging at your heartstrings. The thought of him being more than just a best friend dances at the edges of your mind, like a gentle melody waiting to be fully embraced.

But for now, you cherish the present moment, savoring the boba and the company of the person who has become such an important part of your life. The night is young, and as you exchange playful glances with Jungkook, you can't help but wonder what other adventures await the two of you in the days and nights to come.

Leaving Pekoe behind, your boba-induced bliss carries you as Jungkook suggests going to one of your favorite lookout points—a hidden spot where you can see the entire city spread out below. The mere thought of it ignites a sense of anticipation within you, and you nod eagerly in agreement.

Driving through the winding roads, the city lights twinkling like a sea of stars, the atmosphere inside the car begins to shift. A subtle, sensually charged energy envelopes the space, like an unspoken understanding between two souls on the precipice of something new.

As you arrive at the lookout point, Jungkook parks the car, and you both stay inside, cocooning yourselves in the comfortable silence that only close friends can share. The dimly lit interior creates an intimate ambiance, casting soft shadows across Jungkook's face, and highlighting his features in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

Leaning back against the seat, you gaze out at the breathtaking view before you. The cityscape stretched out like a living breathing entity, its pulsating energy matching the intensity of the emotions brewing inside you.

The silence between you feels charged with unspoken desires, the air thick with anticipation. You steal glances at Jungkook, his eyes fixed on the mesmerizing city lights. The soft glow plays on his features, highlighting the curve of his lips and the gentle slope of his jawline. In moments like these, you can't help but admire the kindness that resides within him.

Lost in your thoughts, you feel a gentle brush of Jungkook's hand against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. The touch was innocent, yet it carries an unspoken invitation, daring you to explore the uncharted territories of your friendship.

You turn to him, your eyes meeting in a silent conversation that spoke volumes. The unspoken question hangs heavy in the air, begging to be acknowledged. With a hesitant yet determined smile, you reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, intertwining your destinies in that single act.

The connection between you deepens as time seems to stand still. His touch sends a rush of warmth coursing through your body, awakening a dormant desire that had been slowly bubbling beneath the surface. The intensity of the moment was undeniable, drawing you closer, your hearts beating in sync.

Neither of you speaks a word, for words seem inadequate to capture the raw emotions coursing through your veins. Instead, you find solace in the silence, in the electric current that flows between you, igniting a flame that burns brighter with every passing second.

As time passes, your relationship with Jungkook was left to simmer and reduce to being only friends. Holding his flirty gazes or even his hands has become part of the fun. A challenge of sorts.

Despite that, there will still come a point where you will finally lose your footing and can no longer stand your ground. You just can’t just be friends with Jungkook, and neither can he.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” He says, refastening his gaze on you.

“You should,” you say, without blinking. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Crossing the line you’ve been afraid to cross with him.

The lump in your throat twitches, but he reaches over from the driver seat and caresses your jaw with his hand anyways. Determining again to hold his stare, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. But his eyes close on their own as his lips move unhurriedly towards yours, they’re as soft as his approach.

At this moment, it may have seemed like you were hesitating, uncertain in this newfound situation, but in fact, it was quite the opposite. Since you two can’t stay here forever – returning to campus is rather inevitable – the lightness in his tread is completely deliberate. You both want, no, need to savor every millisecond.

You feel the heave of his exhale when he kisses you with a little more intensity. Cupping his face in both of your hands, you feel your pulse drop aggressively into your pelvis and fall further in towards him. Your hands snake back behind his head and grasp his hair to pull his face closer to yours. Your lips only part briefly to make room for your tongues to slip back and forth.

Jungkook grasps a handful of your hair and cranes your neck back while simultaneously pulling your body in closer. Jungkook's lips trailed a path of featherlight kisses along your neck, his touch sending shivers cascading down your spine, igniting a symphony of tingling sensations that left them craving for more. He pulls away quickly, greedily drinking in the stale cold air like he has forgotten to breathe that whole time. His eyes follow the trail of his fingers as he thumbs the bare skin of your outer thigh.

“I always like seeing you dress casually, in your cute shorts and oversized hoodies.”

You follow his gaze and smile. “It’s what I feel most comfortable with. But I don’t let many people see me like this because I look so bummy.”

Jungkook looks up once again to meet your eyes and mirrors your smile back to you. “But you still look so beautiful.”

In unison, both your lips draw back together. Without breaking your chain of kisses, you climb over to the driver’s seat to straddle him. Your restricted position prevents you from feeling his likely erection hiding underneath his sweatpants to press against you. But you are actually too preoccupied with devouring him through the kisses to worry about that yet.

His hands move down the length of your torso past your waist, over your shorts, onto your thighs. He slips one hand under your oversized hoodie, cupping your ass and giving it a gentle squeeze. Your hips swivel and thrust towards him, causing the top of your head to rub against the ceiling of his G-Wagon.

“At this rate, I am definitely going to look like a hot mess when we go back,” You say, feeling around for stray hairs that may have been charged with static electricity.

“Here.” Jungkook invites you to lie across the passenger’s side of the vehicle. “This might be better for you then.”

You recline slowly lifting your hips to rest your butt on the center console before lying your head on the passenger door’s armrest. Your knees fall apart to reveal your short skin-tight shorts to him. He leans over you moving between your legs and running the back of his hand up your inner thigh. Still lost in the darkness of your eyes, he rests his head on your knee and squeezes the fleshiness of your thigh. As Jungkook's fingers gently squeezed, another heat surges through your body, accompanied by a swarm of delicate butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The innocent yet electrifying touch sparked a wave of anticipation and desire, leaving you yearning for more. You also realize that even the simplest gestures from Jungkook have the power to awaken a new deep and undeniable lust within you.

You sit up to meet his face and kiss him again. You can taste the taro black tea boba and a slight smoky strawberry-watermelon nicotine on his tongue. Lips locked, you pull him down with you and wrap your arms around his neck. The position is awkward but stubbornly tolerated, all the same, both of you unwilling to pull apart. Both of you are like a couple of desperate teenagers fighting through the objective discomfort to exhaust every last second before curfew.

Finally, Jungkook leans back in his seat again. You stay where you were, hoodie hiked up past your belly button and legs spread out. He uses his hands to gently pull down your shorts, like pulling away the curtain to reveal the main stage.

Then he stops, planting that poignant gaze of his on you. A street lamp painting a streak across your torso to expose his mental photograph.

“You really are absolutely gorgeous tonight, Bunny,” he says, which has you awestruck at this moment.

Bunny is the nickname he gave you a while back because you are a massive Sailor Moon fan. You both make fun of the cringey 90s dub of the show where Usagi is nicknamed Bunny. He likes to call you that when you have space buns.

“Thank you,” You say with genuine gratitude, your knees swaying with an imaginary breeze caused by giddiness. You love how he speaks endearingly to you.

With the back of his fingers, Jungkook gently caresses your inner thigh from knee to groin. The tingling trail he leaves in his wake triggers a shiver from the backs of your knees. He flips his hand over to fuse the warmth from his palm with the heat radiating from your vulva. Your clit is begging for attention and your your pussy clenches around the air desperate for something to fill it. Jungkook grins. You like to imagine that it’s because he too realizes all that potential he holds in the palm of his hand.

He runs one finger along the hem of your underwear. When his hand turns around to go back the way he came, he gently slides his fingertip to the underside of the hemline rubbing the back of his finger against the skin. You lean your head back and shut your eyes, letting out a long sigh of relief.

"I have waited so long for you to touch me like this," You whisper.

Though yours are closed, you imagine that he never takes his intense eyes off you. He moves your panties to one side. He spreads his fingers down again over your vulva. You hear his lips smack gently as he licks his thumb. He brings his hand back down to you, gently pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit. Remaining there for a moment, he faintly increases the pressure and finally begins to rub gentle circles around it.

You feel yourself squirm in the seat, simultaneously moving closer to him and trying to pull away. Jungkook’s arm stretches out to the back to grab his Squishmallow pillow in the back seat to use as a cushion underneath you for comfort. He claims he has these pillows here since he takes naps in between classes in his car.

Your lower back arches and your hips pressed into the cushion beneath you. But as quickly as you had been overcome with nervous tension, your body relaxed into this space, back into the seat.

The circles turn to an up-and-down motion as you grow squirmy under the delicate burden of his touch. With two fingers on his other hand, Jungkook teases at your opening. When he finally enters, you inhale sharply in approval. His fingers are just barely inside, but it is all you need. He massages you gently from within. He slots his thumb partially inside to coat his thumb in your wetness and leads it to make persistent strokes over your clit.

You feel yourself contract and squeeze around his fingers. He moves them in a little further, intensifying his come-hither curl deeper inside.

A chill rises behind your ears and at the nape of your neck, heating up as it trickles down your spine toward your tailbone. One knee presses into the back of the seat as the other reaches for the dash. Tension swells in the fronts of your thighs as your heels try to dig into the seat cushion beneath him. Your hips rise, begging Jungkook to continue.

Your breaths are craving, yet distended, and all your focus shifts inward, concentrating on the movement of his fingers, inside and out. Forgetting everything else. Really feeling it at the point of contact. Your eyes are still closed when you drink in a long inhalation, and release it with equal intention, feeling the intensity of your pleasure growing with every subsequent breath.

“We…” Exhilaration forces the words back down your throat. Try again. “We should drive back…”

Strong thumb still resting on your clit, his other hand rises to hush you with your own wetness. “Not yet, love.” Love?! You couldn’t question the new nickname bubbling out from his lips because your mind was consumed in total stimulation. You’d talk about this sometime after, you thought.

His burgeoning arousal was becoming more apparent in that confined space. You can hear his breath grow huskier as he resumes his rhythmic stimulation of your clit. You can smell the rising excitement dripping all over the cadence of his fingers.

Your mouth falls open to usher forth a silent scream. Your pussy clenches around his fingers and your pulse throbs into the pad of his thumb. Your head presses back into the armrest and you worry momentarily that you might push right through the door, but your worries are wiped clean before you can finish that thought. Vision turning all white and shaky.

Jungkook slowly slides his fingers out as your body goes limp. He leans back to watch you bask in the fallout of your body quake. Your head falls limply to one side while your body struggles to recalibrate – slowed breathing, relaxed pulse, fallen temperature, faded bliss.

“Just truly stunning…” he repeats.

You are caught somewhere between pleasure-induced paralysis and a voracious desire to continue and make hungry love to this man. You reach up, grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him down towards you, forcing him to meet you at eye level.

“Thank you,” You whisper softly into his ear. You kiss his neck, feeling the echoes of his hammering heart press into your lips.

He breaks the kiss and rests his head on your shoulder. He shyly hides his face, hesitant to bring up his next request, “I want you to ride me. Think you could last through another orgasm?”

You giggle at how needy he is being. “Honestly, yes.”

Jungkook tries to refrain himself from squealing and gets up from his position. He sits to adjust his seat back and partially slides off his sweats and boxer briefs.

His dick is a blush shade, long and hard. “Wow…” You mindlessly speak your amusement leading him to giggle in response.

You get up from laying on the passenger seat and climb over the center console to sit on his lap. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss yet again, while you pull his shirt off. You slide your hands slowly down his chest and abs, your small cold fingers send a shiver through his body. You lightly touch his tattooed arm, tracing each intricate design.

Jungkook lifts your hoodie in response to your actions and giggles upon seeing the sight underneath it. “Hehe, you’re not wearing anything under. So scandalous, Bunny,” Before you can refute his teasing, Jungkook buries his face in your breasts.

His soft lips slowly kiss up your cleavage to your neck. Jungkook gently sucks the sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to moan. You thread your fingers through his long black hair and tug. Jungkook winces submissively at your actions.

“I thought you said you wanted me to ride you?” You taunt, teasing him by rubbing your wet folds along his hard dick.

Jungkook groans and grabs your hips, lifting you above him. He tugs the thin fabric of your panties to the side again before lining up his cock to your entrance and lowering you slowly onto his cock. You moan, tilting your head back in pleasure and enjoying the sensation of him filling you up.

“Shit. You’re so tight.” Jungkook stills inside you, letting you adjust to his dick inside you.

You experimentally lift yourself up, using his shoulders as leverage, then sink back down. Jungkook inhales sharply, biting his bottom lip as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock. He keeps his left hand on your waist, strong fingers keeping you steady. He pushes the hoodie above your chest and massages your left breast. His tongue circles your right nipple, the sensation causing you to clench around his dick.

“Fuck, feels so good.” he moans softly. He’s so cute, your fucked out brain thinks.

You grab Jungkook’s hand from your left breast and slide it up to your neck, giving it a light squeeze to indicate what you want from him. He shakes his head and you halt your movement.

“No, Bunny, not today. Today, I’m going to make you scream so loud that you’re going to come back every day for more.” He feels your pussy involuntarily tighten around his cock, sucking him further into your tight walls. “You’d like it if someone caught us like this, wouldn’t you? Let them see how I ruin you,” Jungkook snickers as he teases you.

“You’re so-” You can’t even finish your sentence as Jungkook thrust deep inside of you. This causes you to lose your balance and rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder, giving him full control over your body. He bounces you on his thick cock until you can feel your high approaching.

“I’m gonna cum, Jungkook.” You announce after a series of muffled moans, your voice barely coming out as a whisper. He tightens his grip on your ass and slides one hand down to rub your clit for added stimulation to the impending time bomb of pleasure.

“Let go, love.” As his movements quicken, soon, he feels your pussy clenching tightly around his dick.

“Jungkook!” You scream as you come. You kiss his neck while coming down from your high. Feeling spent, you collapse on Jungkook’s body, relishing the feeling of his muscular body moving against yours.

Jungkook knows he can’t hold out much longer when he feels your pussy pulsate around his dick. “You can cum inside me, I’m on the pill.” You whisper in his ear shyly, feeling his erratic movements inside you.

He digs his fingers into your hips thrusting deeper and more erratically before he comes inside you. He thrusts a few more times to ride out his orgasm before he leans back in his seat in exhaustion.

You both lay there in his car while you catch your breaths and pepper tiny kisses on each other’s bodies. Afterward, Jungkook lifts you up and removes his cock from inside you. You shiver from the emptiness and feel his come slowly drip out from inside you. You quickly slide up your panties into place, pull up your shorts and then readjust your hoodie before collapsing onto the passenger seat.

You watch Jungkook quickly pull up his boxer briefs and sweats. You both look at each other in your fucked out states, all messy and laugh.

“I THINK we should go home now. It’s like almost 3am,” You laugh nervously looking at the time on your phone.

“We should!” He chuckles. “So Bunny…tomorrow…boba, same time?”

“Just come over to my dorm tomorrow. The roomies are out, so we can watch Chainsaw Man and do this again. My wallet can’t deal with more boba runs, and then bonking and losing sleep when I have a 9am class.”

“I’ll be the one treating you to boba from now on,” He smirks at you curiously. God, you really found someone amazing in your life.

As the night sky embraces the city with its velvet darkness, Jungkook drives back to campus. The cool breeze whispers through the open windows, sending shivers down their spines as you two reveled in the afterglow.

Your fingers intertwine on the center console, a tangible connection that symbolizes the bond you share. The radio softly plays Keshi, providing a soothing soundtrack to the journey. You two glance at each other, smiles dancing on your lips, eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and desire to keep doing this again. Maybe boba and riding every day from now on.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #seven by jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #fanfic #fanficition #ao3 #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #seven #bts smut #jungkook #smut #bts one shot #bts drabble

683 notes · View notes

devilfic · 5 months

Text

❝right place, right time❞

VI. do you trust me?

parts: previously / next plot: things are getting messy. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, descriptions of surgery, angsty mcangsty pants as always, mentions of the christian God and religious practices, maybe you and bruce wouldn't have to keep so many secrets if you just made out a lil bit, :). words: 6.2k.

a/n: edit as of 2/11/24: replaced mistaken use of "officer" with "detective".

Your needle passes through skin to the beat of a steady metronome. It's made up of muscle memory, glazing your mind as your hands thread the tear together. With each pass, you're unblinking. There are three others in the room with you but they might as well be shadows, faceless and without sound, coloring your peripheral but otherwise of no concern.

The steady metronome beats on well into your final pull of the thread, well into your dismissal of the shadows, well into the comforts of your office where your brain falls out of rhythm. It's been 48 hours and you haven't found a clue.

You'd think after 17 years that you'd have forgotten his name, but you remember Detective Russo. About 5'9, a kinky black beard, and bushy eyebrows that took up good real estate on his forehead. You remembered sizing up every one of those officers, but he was the one you'd memorized. He was the one that promised you that no one would ever know you were there that night. And now Bruce knows.

He was a detective of little significance outside of that, as far as your research was concerned. He'd served a whopping total of 20 years on the force before retiring seven years ago, but without any social media presence or nearby family to speak of, you couldn't find him. Not an old address, not a phone number, nothing. It was like he'd wiped himself clean the minute he retired. Which meant you'd have to resort to plan B.

Your boss intercepts you before you can even get to the stairs, though. Rudy Moretti rarely had good timing, after all, "Hey! Early lunch?"

You think about lying for all of two seconds, "No. Headed to the police station."

Your boss' eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa, everything okay? Are one of those guys from the other night bothering you? I can come with you if you need-"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It's something personal."

Rudy shifts awkwardly, "Oh. Well, be safe. And let me know if anything like that pops up." You nod, attempting to escape, but his hand finds your elbow and stops you, "By the way... how's everything with Mr. Wayne?"

You should've expected a question like that by now. You had been officially working for him long enough to warrant it, but you still wince. "Fine." When your boss blinks at you, expecting more, you have to bite your tongue to keep from swearing, "I actually... was invited to a celebration for the Mayor. Courtesy of Mr. Wayne. She was interested in the hospital's new wing. We had a good conversation."

Like a child on Christmas morning, your boss lights up at the good news. "Oh, that's good! That's good. Did she mention wanting to come down for a tour?"

"What happened to you should have never happened in the first place. I'm glad you were able to make it out alive."

Her hand on yours should've been a comfort, and to some extent it was, but even the softness of her palm couldn't have steadied your trembling. She had squeezed tighter when she felt it, perhaps thinking you traumatized for having to recall that night. Unaware of where you'd been. Unaware of the burning need to escape before you spilled your guts on the Persian rug.

"It happens all the time," a voice came from your right, a drunken councilman with his suit jacket unbuttoned, "and it'll keep happening so long as that thug's still running the streets."

"Thug?" The mayor dipped her chin.

"With all due respect, Bella, what's your plan to put Batman in Arkham for good?"

You watched the mayor's back straighten, her eyes narrow. It was the one thing everyone was itching to talk about, and the one thing everyone was too afraid to bring up first.

You felt Bruce's knee bump yours and stiffened.

"You think he ought to be imprisoned?" The mayor asks.

"I think he ought to be drawn and quartered! It's people like him that make this city a far cry from its glory days. Inviting violence, chaos. He's single-handedly responsible for that- that homicidal freak that nearly killed you, mayor. And he's responsible for everything else this city's suffered since he started infecting it. He's a menace. It'll be a cold day in hell before this city's safe with him still on the streets."

It sickened you to hear. People who'd done nothing since being elected calling for the arrest of the one person who's made any real change in this city.

The mayor doesn't immediately speak up and you think she's chewing on his words, preparing to respond with a bit more bite. Her pause is what prompts you to speak first, "If it wasn't for the Batman, I might be dead. He's done more good for this city than bad..." you watch the councilman turn his focus to you, looking baffled as to why you were butting in, as if you hadn't just finished recounting your brush with death moments ago, "...with all due respect, Councilman Roberts."

The councilman sobers up at the heavy gaze you level on him, "Oh, no. Of course. Of course! It's good that he was there. It would've been a- been a real tragedy to lose one of Gotham's good, fine citizens. I'm just saying that... maybe these things wouldn't be happening if he wasn't there to... encourage it."

"You think he's encouraging it?" The mayor chimes in, taking a sip from her glass. Whatever she was going to say before has been shelved for the time being, it seems.

The councilman laughs. You watch him twist so that he's facing you and the mayor, holding his glass to her like a gavel for judgement, "He's a glorified criminal! He's no better than that clown we put away years ago."

"He put away, councilman. I believe you meant to say he," Bruce's first words since he'd introduced you to Bella give you a shiver. With his one arm hanging off the back of the couch, he leans in from beside you and smiles that TV smile again, "Unless you've got something you’d like to share with the class?"

Snickers break out amongst the group. You can feel Bruce's breath on your shoulder for only a passing moment, and then he's falling back into the couch and taking a swig of his wine.

The councilman bristles, clearly not a fan of being laughed at. Or being faced with the truth, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just a silly theory of mine. It's just... it would make sense for a vigilante to hide his identity by publicly denouncing himself, especially if he’s in the public eye already. I mean, it would make most people cross you off their list but... you're making me think twice about you."

You chance a glance at Bruce's face. He isn't drunk. His eyes hold a steady gaze with the councilman encroaching on your space to meet it, and even with the looseness of his body, you can tell he's calculating. His arm behind your head feels drawn tight. You can sense it in its weight near your head. He's flashing his teeth and keeping his voice light, but he's not defenseless. He's leveraging.

Your heart hammers again at what lie beneath this tower.

The councilman flushes. Sinks back into his seat, grumbling, but all eyes on him has him forcing a grin, "You're funny, Wayne. Unfortunately for your theory, I have a real job. Making real change in this city. Something Batman wouldn't understand."

That does something to you, "Maybe I'm biased, but... I've seen what he's done for this city, sir. And in the wake of last year, I think we can all agree that... well, anyone can say they're making change. Even if they're just making money instead. Perhaps it feels like Batman is doing more because we actually know what he's doing."

Bruce's leg bumps yours again. Accidentally.

You watch the councilman's Adam's apple bob, "No offense, and I'm sure you feel offended on behalf of the man that saved you, but there are laws that make sure people like me and Ms. Reál don't cross the line. What say you, when your hero takes things too far one day, hm? Who're you going to call when the Batman beats someone's brains in because people like you justify it? Or is it only okay because at least he stopped you from getting a bullet to the head?"

You're about to spew the first thing that comes to mind, probably full of anger and vitriol and a little of whatever you had to drink earlier, when you feel a hand take hold of your inner wrist. Bruce's grip is firm, but it doesn't hurt you. It's enough to stop whatever might come out of your mouth. When you look him in the eye, he's not smiling anymore.

You stare at each other like that for a few moments, not a word shared but a million thought. It was almost like he knew what you were going to say, knew how it might've made you look, made you both look. Had imagined it coming out of his own mouth too, maybe.

Instead, he releases you and turns to the councilman, "Okay, enough. We all feel pretty spirited about the topic." When the councilman scoffs, Bruce nods to you, "I think you both make good points. He's done good. He saved my doctor, of whom I never would've had the pleasure of working with otherwise. But I have to agree with you, councilman: he operates outside of the law and that is cause for concern. I'm sure these are all important issues that our mayor is working tirelessly to address, isn't that right, Mayor?"

Mayor Reál has her leg crossed over the other, eyes cutting from the councilman's to Bruce's to yours. Eventually, she smiles and raises her glass, "Indeed. This conversation was enlightening. Much to think about."

"I'm gonna get another drink." Your announcement is followed by the most graceful exit you can muster, even though your chest is throbbing with adrenaline and you can feel Bruce following you.

You don't stop until you reach the bar and have another glass in hand, doing your best to ignore his presence as he looms beside you. He allows you a full three sips before he starts talking, "Are you okay?"

The diplomat from before is long gone. He's melted, keeping his back to the group you'd just escaped and giving you such wet puppy dog eyes that it makes you want to hurl again. How could he look you in the eye?

Your hand shakes around the stem of your glass, "You're different around them."

His eyes fall to the bar top, "I am?"

"Smiling, friendly, funny..."

He cuts his eyes back to you, smiling a little, "I'm not usually funny?"

"You pretend to be laid-back around them, and I get why. But you don't do that with me. You act like I know some big secret about you and I'm this close to spilling it," you pinch your fingers together in front of his face, "or maybe you know some big secret about me."

You watch his face for any sign of recognition, but you're disappointed to find there is none. No reaction other than a sigh. "I pretend around them because I don't trust them."

"And you trust me? Even though we barely know each other?"

Uncharacteristically, Bruce tilts so close toward you that you bend back to keep some semblance of space between you, "You're asking if I trust the person I pay to keep me alive over... Councilman Roberts." He pronounces the last two words with such incredulity, then laughs right after. You note his breath smells sweet, but nothing like the wine. Had it been wine he'd been drinking? One look at his glass and you'd think so. Two looks, though...

He was stone cold sober.

You swallow, staring up into his face. Bruce doesn't back away. Questions begin to form on your tongue... destructive ones.

How do you know? How did you find out? What are you going to do about it?

Your stomach drops as you think, surely, there's quite a bit he can do about it. If he wanted to. If you made the wrong move.

His eyes narrow on you, "You look sick. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'd like to go home."

Bruce blinks, shrinks in on himself a bit, "Okay."

"I... I drove."

Bruce nods, holds a hand up to one of the suited men near the edge of the room, and turns to you, "My driver. He'll take you home."

"My... my car. I have work in the morning." You mumble pathetically.

Bruce says something to the driver when he gets close. Another man is summoned, appearing by your side in an instant. This one holds out his hand to you and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. You fish your keys out and drop them in his waiting palm.

It's incredibly awkward as Bruce walks you out. You think he'll stop at the front door, or the elevator, or even the lobby, but he walks you all the way to the back door of his ride and—God—even holds it open for you.

You settle in to the nice seats, blinking up at him through eyes you fight to keep dry. You wonder if Bruce would forgive you for throwing up in his car instead. "If it's any consolation," he begins, leaning on the roof of the car. You can still hear the bustle of Gotham all around you, but when he looks at you... there might as well be only him and you, "I agree with you. Councilman Roberts is a jackass."

Your boss is looking at you, expectantly. Still waiting.

"I'm sure she's thinking about it." Is your curt reply. "Is that it? I really gotta go."

Your boss deflates, but otherwise doesn't keep you.

"How can I help you?"

The cop behind the desk seems nice enough. He doesn't smile at you but his tone is pleasant, unhurried. It helps calm your nerves. "Hi. I'm looking for someone. A detective who used to work here."

"You remember their name?"

"Detective Joey Russo," you offer, watching the cop begin to type into his computer, "he retired seven years ago. I wanted to know if you could get me in touch with him. A number or a... address."

"Ah, Russo. I remember him. I'm sorry, may I ask who you are?" You give your name and the cop frowns. "You got a badge? Unless you're with the state, I can't give you anything."

You'd worried as much, "He worked a case of mine 17 years ago. Something new's popped up and I just wanted to talk to him about it."

"If it's about a case we covered, you'd have to talk to one of us about it unless he's directly involved, and even then it'd be a process." He must notice how your face falls because his own softens, "I'm real sorry. I can get you in with someone else."

You know you shouldn't be upset. After all, he was only doing his job. If they gave out personal information to every person who walked in off the street, you imagined they'd have a bigger problem with domestic terrorism than they already do.

It doesn't make it any less debilitating. Bruce Wayne had found him. That was the only way he could've gotten his hands on your file, surely. And Bruce Wayne had money, more than enough to get an ex-cop to talk.

You're thanking the man and trying not to sound as distressed as you feel when you turn and catch new eyes.

You'd only seen Batman at night, tucked into the corners of shadow of your apartment, but here he was in broad daylight—midday—standing next to a plainclothes cop who had yet to realize the vigilante was no longer listening to him. You're so relieved to see him that you actually break out into a smile.

Batman doesn't return it. Without acknowledging his partner, he stomps across the room to you, cutting off your greeting with a rushed, "Did something happen?"

You blink, unable to answer when the cop from before sidles up next to the two of you. He's got a warm, friendly look to him, even if his eyes are narrowed at the pair of you with skepticism, "You two know each other?" He asks. When Batman refuses to tear his eyes from you, the cop addresses you directly, reluctant to extend his hand without confirmation that you were friend, not foe, "Detective James Gordon. And you are?" You give your name and his eyes light up. "Hey. I know you, don't I?"

"The hostage at Gotham General," Bruce answers for him, not even bothering to glance at the detective, "they were on the news."

"You three mind moving somewhere else? The freak's making people uncomfortable." The kind cop from before has dropped all pretense now, glaring at the vigilante who, still, pays no one but you mind.

Gordon grumbles and motions for you both to follow him down a long hallway out of sight.

You struggle to keep up when the detective starts walking, much faster than he looked, and so you all but yelp when the Bat places a hand on your lower back and guides you in front of him.

A turn or two later, you empty out beside a window at the end of another long hallway, far enough away from prying eyes that the detective seems to find it sufficient.

"What are you doing here?" Batman asks immediately.

"I was looking for someone but, actually, now that you're here, I was wondering if I could talk to you." You look over at Gordon, "If you're not busy."

The detective grunts but holds his hands up in surrender, slinking down the hall out of earshot, "I'm gonna go smoke, but I need him back in ten."

When he's far enough away, Batman speaks, voice at a much lower volume than before, "What's wrong?"

"I'm looking for a cop. I need to get in touch with him but he retired and they won't tell me where I can find him."

The Bat's head tilts to the side. You can tell the gears in his brain are turning, "Who?"

"Detective Joey Russo." The Bat freezes. "Do you know him?"

He doesn't answer that, something you take note of with a funny feeling in your chest, "Why are you looking for him?"

It's your turn not to answer. You should've known he wouldn't just tell you without good reason, but your throat closes up when you think about how you'll explain it. It wasn't that you didn't trust him... but... "It's personal. Please."

"That's not enough."

"I know... I know. And I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wasn't important-"

"Then tell me why."

"I can't. But it is important. To me. I promise, it's for good reason."

"A good reason that you can't tell me? That's not enough. That's not how I work. God forbid someone finds out I gave you classified information."

"If I told you why I needed it—if I told anyone why I needed it—it would defeat the whole purpose!"

"That doesn't make you sound any more convincing."

"Batman, please," and your voice breaks as you step that much closer to him, your eyes rimming with tears you're terrified to shed, "I have never asked you for anything, have I? Not for money or your identity or anything. I am asking you for this one thing because I have no one else. You... are the only person who can help me. Please."

You see his face fall, so clear it feels like you can see right through him. Past the cowl and the facades and right into his very being. For a moment, you're just seeing the person and not the idea of him. You see your fears reflected back at you in his eyes, a deep understanding there that gives you some hope.

He draws a deep, heavy breath, and- "I'm sorry."

You're too stunned to watch him walk away.

Judith's apartment has a lack of technology and an abundance of crucifixes. The first time you'd seen it, you'd thought it was overkill. Now, since you've visited enough, it was comforting in its own creepy way. A blast into the past, memories of a grandmother who was never really your grandmother.

She startles at the stove where she's just put something in the oven, "Oh! Dear, I didn't hear you come in. Is everything alright?"

You smile and kick your shoes off by the key-holder, "I knocked. You're supposed to have your hearing aid in."

She gives you a stern look, then smiles.

You can smell hibiscus tea in the air, her favorite. She'd gather handfuls of hibiscus and dry them out in the sun, and then she'd steep their petals in hot water until it turned a deep pink. The taste was always striking, tart and strong, but she'd sweeten it with honey for you and then it wouldn't be so bad.

Without asking, she waddles over to her breakfast table where you've already found your seat and pours you a steaming cup of tea. You take the honey she's brought with her and begin to stir. "You never answered my question." Judith reminds you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, "I'm just taking a break from work, is all. Do I need to be having a bad day to visit you?"

"No, I suppose not," she sighs, taking the seat across from you, "but you do look a wreck."

You grumble. You hadn't looked in the mirror. You hadn't done anything but busy yourself in hopes that it would stave off the wave of anxious tears threatening to fall. You busied yourself until your hands started shaking and people started asking questions. And now you were here.

"Yeah. I'm sure I do. Work's... been hard."

"And besides work?"

"I don't know. I don't really have a life outside of work anymore."

Judith frowns, "You should really make some friends, dear."

That gets you to laugh. "I have friends! I have you. Are you not my friend?"

You could see the question already brewing, the narrow of her eyes as she watched you begin to fidget, "And that demon? Is he still hanging around you?"

You cast your gaze to the tabletop, "...I don't think we'll be seeing him around anymore."

"Oh?" You don't miss the hope in Judith's voice, "Did the police finally arrest him?"

"No. I think I may have... scared him off."

She doesn't respond for a while, even though you can tell from the shift in the air that she's rather pleased with this development. It makes you feel sicker to the stomach. "It might be for the best, dear," you can tell that she's being careful, minding your upset, "he's dangerous. It's best you stick to the light for now." When you don't respond, her leathery hand clasps over yours and forces you to look her in the eye, "Come with me to service this week. I've been telling everyone about you."

You snort, "About me and the demon I'm friends with?"

Judith shakes her head furiously, as if the accusation that she might have spilled your secret greatly insulted her, "They have been praying for you ever since the night at the hospital. They'd really like to see you in person one of these days. I never shut up about how proud I am of you."

Even through the despair, you feel the warmth of Judith's love. It makes you hold her hand back, gripping so tightly that you fear she may be too fragile to handle it. She doesn't seem to mind.

You two share the rest of your tea in relative silence, taking breaks to comment on the neighbors or the news or the weather (which never really changes outside of summer, but you always have something to say with her).

After a refill or two, you feel the dread begin to creep in.

"Dear, come here," Judith calls as you button up your coat at the door, "bow your head."

You frown but do as you're told. In a blink, you feel her finger swipe across your forehead in a quick motion. The familiar scent of cinnamon and myrrh hit your senses right after. You reach up to touch it but Judith captures your hand in her own. In her other is a small vial, unmarked, filled halfway with oil. "To protect you," she says, nodding gravely, "God will watch over you. You are blessed."

You want to tell her that the anointing does nothing for the stones gathering in your stomach, that the moment you walk out of this door you will be hit with a wave so sudden that you will surely drown. But you'd be lying if you said this little woman with her God and prayers didn't make you feel, even for a fraction of a second, safe. You kiss her cheek goodbye.

It's desperate, you know that. You spend the whole evening hating yourself as you pace the hardwood floors, thumbing over buttons and weighing the pros and cons.

"For emergencies only", but this was an emergency to you. It felt like one, the way it gnawed at your very center demanding blood. Every minute dreading that you'd have to see him again and pretend like you had no idea that he knew that you... You'd also spent part of the evening bent over the toilet.

At some point, you throw yourself onto your fire escape for fresh air and nearly throw the phone across the way just to breathe.

You know you've screwed up. The tentative threads of your friendship with the Bat had surely been severed. What had gotten into you, asking him for such a bold favor without anything to offer in return? You'd already given him your hands and your mind, the two things that you'd worked so hard to hone, and you would never think of taking them away.

But maybe that would be inevitable. Maybe you'd lose your license if this got out. And it wouldn't just be you carrying that burden. Every single one of you would be dug up and exposed to the world, and with Bruce Wayne involved, you couldn't imagine the lawsuits. You just couldn't. They could put you under the prison with his kind of money.

And the cops didn't even know everything.

You gasp, sob, and wrench yourself from the railing. You clench the phone tight.

Even if you could get to Russo, and even if he admitted that he gave you up, what good would it do? Bruce had already seen it. He probably had a contact at the DA's office on speed dial. You'd seen what money could do to men like him in this city. What it made men like him do to people like you. The echoes of the accusations against his father a year ago still rang in the wind, and his efforts to make up for it all would never truly make that go away. A criminal record was just as much currency as anything else. He would undeniably own you.

Somewhere between your panicking thoughts, you hear the grates of the fire escape tremor from above. You whip your head up and see a dark shape hovering a floor up. Swiftly, it descends the stairs until your eyes adjust. Your heart catches in your throat as you choke out his name.

The strangled noise causes him to pause when he turns to you. You clear your throat, "Are you hurt?" Batman's head tilts to the side. His eyes flicker from the phone in your hand and back to you. "I'm... I wanted to see you."

His shoulders stiffen. He almost looks like he didn't mean to come. A sliver of you had actually hoped he'd changed his mind, too. "I know it wasn't fair of me to ask something like that of you with no explanation. And I'm sorry. I want you to know that."

He waits, head still tilted.

You bite your tongue, tasting the blood beginning to pool on the surface.

You could tell him. Lay it all bare. And he could drop you at the GCPD without another word.

Or he could accept you. See the you that stands before him now, who had been years clean and had saved his life on your living room floor and confessed that he was why you were a better person now.

That's what friends did. Were you and the Batman friends?

Were you and Batman... anything?

"I wasn't always like this," your head throbs as you force yourself to keep talking, clenching the railing behind you with one hand, "I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I didn't just waltz through life completely innocent for thirty-something years, given where I come from. I wasn't a very good person when I was younger... and I did things I'm not proud of. And, by the grace of a very good man, a very small group of people know the true extent of that.

"But recently, I found out that someone who shouldn't know... does. And they could ruin my life if they used it against me. So I need to talk to Russo, because I need to know if he broke his promise, and then... God knows what else. I don't know. I haven't thought any further than that."

Something substantial but unclear, and if Batman were to go digging officially and find out the rest, at least you'd know Russo was the snitch.

But your heart still clenches in your chest. It feels like you are all made up of open wounds and they're all gushing blood as he watches, saying nothing. If you had really told him the truth, you imagined it would feel akin to spontaneous combustion. God, would you even be able to utter the words? It'd been so long since you'd last said-

Batman takes a slow step toward you, and the open wounds seal up at once. You are frozen.

Another, and another, until you are caged there against the railing, awaiting his verdict. Judge, jury, and... "And if he didn't? If it wasn't him that sold you out?"

You'd briefly considered that. Your friends, who were really more ghosts now than friends, had no reason to expose themselves. They'd gotten off just as easily as you did. Most of them were living lives on the other side of the country now, far, far removed from the history you shared together. Only you remained.

And who would even think to go looking into them? Outside of your history together, now sealed up and locked away, no one would look for them unless they knew what happened already.

Which only left one other option. "Then someone did—someone very close to Bruce Wayne, and there's nothing I can fucking do about it."

Batman stares at you for a while. You don't have a clue what he's looking for. "If I take you to Russo," you gasp, and he hurries his words out before you can say anything else, "it'll be the last time anything like this ever happens again. We go, we ask, and that's it."

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you."

"And I wasn't lying to you."

"What?"

"About Wayne. When you asked me if he was corrupt." You watch his eyes waver on you, eventually falling to the grates beneath your feet, and you're dumbstruck by the shift in his tone. "I never lied to you."

"I... I didn't think you had." He looks at you again. "But there are things that maybe we don't know about him," and as you speak, you place a hand on his arm, feeling it go rigid even beneath the suit, "I mean, he's a Wayne. They're older than this city. And you've seen firsthand the kind of reach people with that kind of money have. He can smile and wave and support as many good causes as he wants, but that could all be smoke and mirrors."

"You really don't trust him, do you?"

You sigh. You could almost hear Emily asking the same thing. But Emily would be smiling, and Batman is grave. Almost... disappointed. Your frown strengthens, "He's got a lot of secrets."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but you also saved my life," you chuckle, "if Wayne pushes me out of the way of a moving car, I might reconsider my stance on him."

The Bat squints at you. To your relief, you notice a bit of mirth in his voice, "No. You wouldn't."

"Listen, I am really grateful that you're doing this for me. And I wanted to say that after today, the thought of scaring you away scared me. And I would really, really like it if you could trust me. I don't want you to think that I'm taking this for granted. I'm not asking for you to take off your mask or bare your soul or anything. I just want you to know that-"

"I gave you this," the hand holding your burner is scooped up in his, held between the two of you, "because I trust you. I keep coming back because... I like... this. It's different. And I don't trust easily. If you believe me on anything, believe me on that."

A bit of your dread is chased away, and your hero is standing in the wake. Bruce Wayne is far away from this moment. He can't stain it. You won't let him. "You wanna come in for coffee?"

At that exact moment, your doorbell rings.

You see Batman jolt backwards and reflexively reach for him, using what strength you have to keep him from escaping. He watches you, wide-eyed, as you cling to his side, "Wait, wait. I wasn't expecting anybody. I'll send them off. It'll be quick."

He turns his head to the door. "You weren't expecting anyone?"

You shake your head. He shucks away your grip as he climbs through the window and takes a few, long strides to the door. He has to bend to look through your peephole, and you rush to catch up to him. After a long moment, he peers at you from the corner of his eye, "It's an old lady."

Judith. The doorbell rings again. "My neighbor. She's harmless, I'll handle it."

You expect him to walk off, find somewhere else to hide from sight, but he backs up behind the door and waits, nodding to you. Well, he was out of sight.

The door opens. The concerned look on Judith's face melts as soon as she sees you there, and holds out a pan wrapped in tinfoil, "Oh, there you are, dear. I made too much casserole so I came to give you the rest. Just in case you haven't had dinner yet."

You beam at her, taking the dish out of her hands, "Thanks, Judith. That's really sweet of you."

She returns a modest smile, but it falls away a second later. You follow her gaze past your shoulder and into the living room where- shit. "It's winter." Her brows furrow, "You'll catch cold if you keep your window open all night."

"Right! I was just... looking out over the city. Taking a breather. You caught me in the middle of it."

She presses the back of her hand to your arm and you note the very stark difference in her body temperature to yours. She frowns hard, stepping closer to you in order to whisper, "Has that demon come to see you again?"

You can't see him from where you're holding the door open, though it's your instinct to glance, but you feel yourself warming up pretty quickly, "He's not a demon, Judith."

No matter how often you repeat it, it goes in one hearing aid and out the other, "Then why does he have horns-"

"Judith, I'm fine, I swear. Even if... he did come visit, I would be fine. He wouldn't hurt me. As I've told you before."

She stares at your window, looking for little goblins with pointed tails and pitchforks no doubt. But as the curtains blow this way and that and no shadows make themselves clear, she is forced to take your word for it. "Alright," she relents, and you try not to visibly deflate, "enjoy the casserole, dear. Keep the window shut."

You watch her waddle all the way down the hallway, smile every time she glances back at you, and wait until you can no longer hear her kitten heels click-clack-clicking on the stairway down. You immediately shut the door and drop your head against it with a dull thud.

A few moments pass. You can feel him still next to you. Even worse, you can feel him trying not to laugh. "She thinks I'm a demon?"

You stand up and shove the casserole into his hands, only a little taken aback by the smile on his face when you do, "You're going to eat this casserole and then you're gonna tell that woman you're a God-fearing man and it tasted fucking delicious."

a/n: there's a scene I'm really excited to write for next chapter if it's gonna go the way I plan for it to go :)

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday @maryx0107 @vainillasmil157 @moony-toasts @sketchiethebear @trawberry-fire @hangmanscoming @agent-scorpio @julesjewelss36 @chonkercatto @dcgoddess @hollandorks @anotherr-fine-mess @calsjack @that-one-beannnn @levisfuckinmine @miriamnox @bluestuesday @dumdumsun @phoenixgurl030 @allgaslynobrakess @marvelouskatie

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #batman angst #batman fluff #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

304 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 6 months

Text

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 1

okayyy so I’m completely done with this fic! I’m editing my posts now, and I’m not sure if it’ll all get done tonight. Definitely tomorrow. Here’s the first chapter, hope you enjoy!

table of contents you have everything (you still want more)

To say you were blindsided would be a gross understatement.

You were metaphorically slapped in the face so hard that you feel like you have a broken neck due to whiplash.

Your boyfriend had been away for the week with his football team, and you hadn’t been able to go with him. So you’d done what any WAG would do and watched the match on his giant telly, all decked out in pale blue.

Life with Jamie Tartt as your boyfriend was great. You’d been dating since secondary school while he was in the academy. It was strange to go from chicken shop dates to meals that cost more than your rent. He’d promised to pay for your uni fees which was a godsend because there was no way you’d be able to afford it on your own. You both had a whole future planned together.

Which is why you’re shocked to see Jamie’s name in the papers, followed by the name Keeley Jones.

And a picture of them kissing.

You aren’t even googling him when you find out. You’re out for groceries of all things, groceries for his welcome-home dinner in a day and a half. His name catches your eye so you stop to smile at him before you realize what you’re looking at.

The world goes fuzzy, your gaze locked on their lips.

In a single moment, your world has been tilted completely on its head.

You find yourself in Jamie’s too-large flat, staring at your phone, willing yourself to press the green call button.

You take a shallow breath and hold the phone up to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost to the point where it’ll go to voicemail, but then you hear Jamie say, “What?”

“What?” you reply, “what do you mean, what? I should be the one asking you that? What the fuck are you doing kissing an instagram model??”

Jamie snorts and says four words that cause your heart to drop like a stone.

“We’re broken up, babe.”

Your breath is coming in too fast and too shallow. “When were you going to tell me that we fucking broke up? And don’t call me babe!” you choke out.

Jamie says, “Thought it were implied,” in a dismissive voice. It’s foreign to you. He’s never spoke to you- to anyone like this before.

“Right, okay, yeah, makes total sense. I find out we’ve broken up after seeing you in the papers with another girl,” you retort.

“Glad it’s finally clicking,” Jamie says. It’s strange how much he can hurt you, even through the phone.

A voice calls him in the background, a voice you presume belongs to Keeley Jones, and then there’s silence. He’s hung up.

You stare at your phone for a long, long time.

—

All you can think about is what you did wrong. You comb Jamie’s flat for anything that belongs to you, shove it into your car, and drive back to your own, too-small too-crowded flat.

You wonder if you were too clingy as you carefully fold up every Man City kit. You think it’s possible you weren’t affectionate enough as you stack every polaroid photo. You wonder if maybe it has to do with your physical appearance as you hunt for scissors and some matches.

You try to make yourself not care as you burn the photos and cut up the shirts.

Your hands linger over a maroon away kit. It was always your favorite, and for a moment you consider keeping it.

Then you remember Jamie saying, glad it’s finally clicking as though you never meant anything, so you grab the scissors and cut it into shreds.

—

Uni is out of the question. There is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to afford it so you start two full-time jobs.

Every day feels like a struggle to breathe. You get out of bed and tell yourself I can do this as you get ready for work and tighten your budget. The drowning feeling never quite goes away, but the months pass all the same.

You’re grateful that although you don’t save a lot of money, you’re able to pay your bills on time. Your flatmates generally leave you alone when you’re home, but you’ve found ice cream in the freezer with your name on it that you know you didn’t buy. They’ll place a blanket over you every time you fall asleep on the couch, and fervently ban all Manchester City merchandise from entering the flat.

Breakthrough comes in the form of a gift.

A literal gift, and one you’re giving, not receiving.

It’s a set of earrings for a friend, hoops with her name set around them. She wears them to work exactly once, and the next thing you know, orders are pouring in.

It’s enough that you quit one job, then the next, then hire both flatmates to help you in the evenings. Pretty soon, there’s an opportunity for you to open a small shop in a part of London. You get a larger flat (all to yourself!) and before long, Manchester blue no longer haunts you.

—

The bell above the door rings, signifying a customer.

“Hi, you okay?” you say from behind the counter. You turn around and lock eyes with Keeley Jones, followed by Jamie Tartt.

Just breathe.

Jamie looks spooked, well, he looks spooked to you. Not sure if anyone else would know his expressions well enough to catch the shock cross his face. Keeley smiles brightly, and you can see that same adoring look you used to have. Maybe a little muted, she’s more mature than you were, so she probably understands her role in this relationship. Enjoy it while you can, get out before it hurts.

You can’t think about it now so before Jamie can ruin anything more you decide to play dumb and fucking introduce yourself as though your ex-boyfriend and the woman he shagged behind your back aren’t in your safe space that you created to escape him.

Keeley didn’t know, you remind yourself, except at this point it’s more of a prayer of faith hingeing on Jamie’s apparent selfish nature. There’s a good chance he didn’t mention you, a far cry from the boy who used to follow you grocery shopping because he liked to be with you (and so he could slip his card in the register before you had a chance to protest).

“Hi, I’m Keeley,” she says with a smile. “This one’s Jamie, but you’ll be hearing more about him I’m sure. He’s a footballer on loan to AFC Richmond, and he’s fucking brilliant on the pitch.”

You copy her smile. “How can I help you?”

“I saw your earrings on instagram, and I absolutely had to get some. Then when we moved here, I wanted to see your shop! And this one said he’d get them for me, isn’t that sweet?”

Keeley wraps herself around Jamie’s arm, oblivious to the way he can’t figure out how to react.

He settles on a nod and a grunt, so you pull out different hoop sizes and letter fonts, and get to work.

She settles on gold, with tiny letters spelling Keeley.

“They’ll be ready for pickup in three days,” you say, ushering them out the door.

Keeley hasn’t stopped smiling this whole time and in contrast, Jamie hasn’t stopped frowning, but they’ve made their purchase and are headed down the street.

The moment they’re well and truly gone, you pull out your phone and Google, Jamie Tartt richmond. The top results are all about his loan from City to AFC Richmond, your Richmond; your escape is no longer an escape. It’s only a matter of time before his face is plastered all around town. The thought of it turns your stomach.

But there’s no way you’ll ever see him.

So you get through your day like normal, head back home, and play too-loud music through your headphones as you cook dinner. By the time it’s ready, you’re dancing to Islands in the Stream with all worries about Jamie firmly banished from your mind.

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

165 notes · View notes

honeybeefae · 1 year

Text

Pretty Little Tears (Rhysand x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY NINE: TEARS

Summary// He knew you could take him deeper. You were doing so well. It was taking all of your strength not to throw up as Rhys forced himself down your throat more and more, but when those tears started to roll down your face, smearing your makeup, he felt something primal stir deep inside of him. And he wanted more.

(This is definitely one of the shorter fics for Kinktober as well as ending in an ambiguous way, I hope you guys still like it. I’m not 100% confident with it but I’ve edited it to hell and back so I think this is the best I am going to get. Enjoy! :))

WARNINGS: 18+, Smut, Degradation, Crying Kink, rough BJ, gagging

Your mate had been staring at you all night, the risque dress you were dawning barely leaving anything to the imagination. It was something you saved only for your visits to the Hewn City as it helped you get into your role of the wife of Rhysand, ruler of the Court of Nightmares.

It was a part you were new to, trying your best to match Rhys’s mask. The hardest thing was watching, and sometimes participating, in dueling out punishments for the wicked people that resided here. A part of you would feel guilty hearing their pleas and cries but knowing what they did, the innocent people who they tortured or hurt, made it easier to swallow.

Tonight was no different, though you had not heard any report of trouble so far. Everyone was dining and dancing in somewhat peace. Mor was off to the side with Cassian chatting about something, Azriel dwelling in the shadows, while you danced within the arms of one of your cousins as your mate watched from his throne above.

“You look lovely tonight, Y/N.” Your cousin, Dephren, commented. He was a head taller than you, with hair just like yours, but as wicked as they came. You would even say he could rival Mor’s father, Keir, in his attempts to gain power in the court. “I am glad to see our High Lord is keeping you in good health.”

“As am I.” You said curtly, glancing at Rhys briefly as you twirled across the floor. “I have much to be grateful for from him.”

“That you do, cousin. I must ask, though, are you sure you are satisfying him?” He asked, his eyes full of cruel mirth. “I would never insult you but I do worry about my Lord, and I as well as many others truly wonder if you are the right person for him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the other vultures of the court leering at you and eavesdropping on the conversation. It must have been talked about beforehand as someone had called away Rhys so that he was not within earshot to hear the slander they were saying.

You suddenly found yourself floundering like a fish out of water, the facade you put up cracking just the slightest bit, as Dephren spun you round and round.

“I will take your silence as answer enough.” He smirked, tightening his grasp on your hands as the music finally came to a stop. Everyone started politely clapping, gearing up for another song as your cousin bowed mockingly in your direction. “I think Remia would be a better fit for him, she certainly seems to be able to keep his attention.”

Remia was the daughter of one of Keir’s closest allies and a great beauty in the Hewn City. She was also as vicious and hungry as the rest of them, willing to follow whatever orders it took to rise above and look down on the people below. You knew your family was bitter about your new life, about how their weakest child found herself mated to the High Lord himself and cut all ties to her family.

However, you didn’t expect them to try and cast you aside so brazenly. It had you cursing at how naive you were, how you thought there was no threat to you anymore now that you were happy and loved.

His words cut through your skin like a knife as you turned to look at your mate, mouth tightening at the egregious display of affection Remia was showering him with. Mor and Cassian had picked up that something was amiss, picking up the tail end of your cousin's words and following your eyes to Rhys.

Before you could turn around and say anything to him, Mor was at your side with a glare that could turn a man to stone. “How bold of you to say the things you do about Rhysand’s mate, Dephren.” She hissed, placing herself in front of you. “Perhaps you would like to speak louder for him to hear?”

“Mor.” He nodded, forcing a polite smile. “I meant no to disrespect to Y/N, I assure you. I was simply pointing out a concern most of us have, isn’t that one of her duties?”

She opened her mouth to lay in on him but you put a hand on her shoulder, squaring your shoulders and stepping around her to stand toe to toe with him. You could sense Rhysand in your mind wondering what had drawn the crowd but you shut him out. This was something you needed to handle yourself.

What you said next, how you handled this test of disrespect, would dictate how everyone saw you. You needed to be equally as fearsome as your mate if you were going to rule beside him.

“My duty, Dephren, is not for you to question.” You challenged loudly, your voice echoing off of the mountain walls for the entire court to hear. “I can assure you that your High Lord is very satisfied with the way I fuck him. Not that it is any of your business nor whatever whore you’ve sent his way to try and distract him.”

Rhysand appeared behind you, darkness surrounding him as Dephren shrunk back in fear. You smirked as one of his hands slunk around your waist and pulled you into his side, his nose dipping into your hair as you refused to break eye contact.

You had everyone's attention now and while as before you would have shrunk back from it, now you wore it like a crown. They should be the scared ones and from the looks on their faces, it seemed that they realized what monster they awoke.

As you stood straighter and held your higher you could feel your mate's approval. Not only was he proud of you but you could feel his caress in the back of your mind, and could hear the lustful thoughts that flickered through his mind as you took a couple of steps forward. He liked this version of you.

“I find it funny cousin that you call my relationship into question when I highly doubt your wife could say the same about your performance, don’t you think?” You taunted, raising your eyebrow as his face turned a fierce shade of red.

The people behind him started to whisper and chuckle while his wife took a huge gulp of wine, trying to remain invisible. You weren’t done humiliating him though, he needed to be an example to the rest of them.

“What’s the nickname she gives you to her friends? Minute man?” The question was rhetorical as your smirk grew, hearing Rhys’s voice in the back of your mind.

I didn’t know you could be so cruel, Y/N. This poor man is about to throw himself down the side of the mountain if you continue any longer.

Hopefully, the lesson is almost learned then. I would hate to have to repeat myself.

His fingers tightened on your hip in approval, satisfied to watch you work. Dephren was a shadow of the man he was ten minutes earlier as you left your mate’s hold to stand over him. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did but you didn’t want to feel guilty now. He deserved it.

“Kneel.” You commanded, voice velvety smooth. It was only one word but it held so much power and control you couldn’t help but feel drunk off of it. “Kneel and apologize and I might forget this conversation ever happened.”

And to your surprise, he wasted no time in complying with your request. His knees hit the floor hard as he knelt at your feet, lowering his head in submission.

“Please, Y/N, forgive me.” Dephren squeaked. “I beg of you.”

You turned to Rhysand, tilting your head in question to see what he thought. He gestured towards you before crossing his arms over his chest and smiling darkly, enjoying the show.

“Just remember, my dear Dephren, who I am.” You warned, your voice like ice as you glanced around at the rest of the spectators. “As shall the rest of you. I do not forget and the next person I hear, or even think, of such slander, I shall have their tongues and their minds.”

Your skirts swished around your feet as your turned and grabbed Rhys’s hand, letting him lead you to the throne and adorn his lap as Dephren swiftly stood and disappeared into the background. There was a beat of silence before the music started back up and everyone returned to their respective places.

It was taking all of your concentration to control your breathing and not break out in a sweat as your adrenaline came crashing down. You didn’t recognize the woman saying those things as you replayed it over and over in your mind. It was as if you had been possessed by someone else.

You were wonderful, Y/N. You had me utterly entranced with your performance.

His hands grazed up your bare legs, catching on the sheer fabric as he reached the crest of your hips. It was a delicate touch that sent the filthiest thoughts into your head. You craved more, your breathing evening out as he went higher and higher until he caressed the side of your breast.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you turned to look into his violet eyes, your face flushed with desire. You were as bewitched by him as he was with you, licking your lips hungrily as he scowled at Keir who was waiting for the two of you to notice him.

“What is it now?” Rhysand snapped, holding you tighter as you began to kiss up his neck. You usually weren’t one for huge public displays of affection but with what happened tonight, it was like you were a new woman.

A hungry, aching woman.

As Keir began his question about one of the other people in the room you tuned him out, your sex slickening as you began to grow impatient at Rhys’s lack of attention toward you. His hand still rested on your hip, rubbing small, enticing circles as he droned on and on.

It was only after a few minutes you decided to take matters into your own hand. You did not know if you were feeding off the raw power you had just realized you held or if it was simply adrenaline, but whatever it was it had you worked into a frenzy.

Rhys…

Though his eyes never left Keir's, he tensed ever so slightly under your touch. You knew you had his full attention. While maintaining a bored expression on your face, you began to show him all the multiple times you had pleased him. It started off with just small glimpses of skin and soft moans but as your impatience grew, you sent him much more vulgar things.

And when you whispered into his mind just how wet you were with the picture of you exploring yourself, you felt his resolve snap underneath you like a twig.

“Do I not have you here to maintain order while I am away, Keir? Are you not able to handle things?” Rhysand snarked, raising an eyebrow as you both stood abruptly. “You bore myself and Y/N with these meaningless conflicts. If you cannot control them by yourself perhaps your leadership needs to be questioned.”

Keir immediately bowed his head while muttering apology after apology. “I did not mean to bore, my lord, nor Lady Y/N. I was simply-”

Rhys clicked his tongue, silencing the steward swiftly. “And yet you continue to do so. We will be taking our leave now but I will be returning within the next few days. I suggest you make sure everyone is on their best behavior…otherwise you might find yourself on the edge of the sword.”

“Yes, of course.” He replied with gritted teeth. Mor, Azriel, and Cassian were already gone by the time you were leaving the grand room. You smiled coyly at your mate, licking your lips as he pulled you flush against his body.

“Do not play modest with me, darling. I saw every single thought in that pretty, filthy head of yours.” Rhys smirked, already half hard from just remembering them. “If you think you are getting off easy tonight you are sadly mistaken.”

“I don’t want you to be easy tonight.” You cooed, gazing at him through your lashes. “I want you to make me scream so loud that everyone in the Hewn City knows who was right tonight.”

His eyes darkened and before you could blink you were plunged into darkness, appearing in your shared bedroom moments later. You gasped when you were shoved roughly against the door but his lips smothered yours before you could say anything else.

You melted into him, your tongue dancing with his while your hands found purchase in his hair. It was soft against your fingers, which tightened into fists when he wedged his thigh between your legs. The friction was heavenly as you had soaked through your panties, your dress allowing him easy access.

“Is that all for me?” Rhys purred into your ear, biting down on your lobe before kissing and nipping his way back to your lips. You nodded, too out of breath to say anything, to which he smiled devilishly. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already speechless.”

The air around you was thick with need as you grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your breast, your hips rutting against his leg. “Are you just going to talk or will I see any action from you, my lord?”

Rhysand couldn’t help but grin at your words. Even pinned against the wall, pussy dripping for him, you found a way to smart off to him. It was one of the things he loved you for, the fire within you.

With one push off the wall, he separated your bodies and crossed his arms over his chest. “Take it off. Now.”

Your heart fluttered at his change of tone, fingers trembling in excitement as you started to pull down the straps of your dress. You knew that your words had awoken that dark, sadistic streak he kept carefully locked away. It was something you didn’t get to see often but tonight you wanted it.

You wanted him to use you for pleasure, to let him so thoroughly fuck you that there was no doubt left that only you could bring him to that level of ecstasy. It seemed that Dephren’s words had indeed got under your skin but hopefully this would ease it.

Rhysand knew it as well. He had wanted to torture the greasy, traitorous man as soon as he pieced together what happened but you took over effortlessly, showing everyone in that room who you could be even though his words made you question.

His cock throbbed at the memory of you standing over Dephren, at just how utterly sexy you were at that moment.

As you let the dress fall into a pool of silk at your feet, the cool breeze making goosebumps rise on your arms and your nipples harden, the wetness between your legs only grew. It felt like it was dripping down at this point.

“Kneel.” He commanded, beginning to undo the strings of his pants while you immediately sunk to your knees. You bit down on your lip as he put two fingers under your chin, tilting it up upwards at him. “Such a good girl.”

One of his hands gripped his thick, heavy cock while the other gathered your hair into his fist. You swallowed in anticipation, both of your hands on your thighs as you opened your mouth wide for him. Just as he liked it.

Rhys growled as he slapped the head of his dick on your tongue, coating your lips with the precum that had already gathered at the tip before he thrust into your mouth with no warning. You instinctively gagged, your throat tightening around him while your hands flew to his thighs to steady yourself.

“Just like that, darling.” He grunted as he slowly fucked your mouth, his balls hitting your chin with every thrust.

You followed his lead as much as you could, your scalp burning as he tugged and pushed as he pleased. His cock was hard to fit fully in your mouth but you did your best, licking the underside every time he pulled out to drive him crazy.

Drool was escaping the seal of your lips around him, running down your chin and onto your bare chest. The moonlight shone against it, catching his attention and spurring him on even more as he truly used you to get off.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it Y/N?” Rhys taunted, his pupils blown wide in lust as you gargled around his length. “You crave to be used like this, for my pleasure. You want me to treat you like the secret whore you are.”

A nod was all you could muster as he pushed further and further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and cutting off your airway. It made you lightheaded which only seemed to enhance your feelings, one of your hands dropping to your cunt so you could thrust two fingers inside.

He laughed deeply at your desperation, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe from how far his cock was in your mouth. It was almost all the way in when you started to push against his leg in a warning. You were going to have to come up for air soon.

However, he knew you could take him deeper. You were doing so well. It was taking all of your strength not to throw up as Rhys forced himself down your throat more and more, but when those tears started to roll down your face, smearing your makeup, he felt something primal stir deep inside of him. And he wanted more.

With an audible pop, he pulled himself out, your lungs burning as you coughed and sputtered. You were still slightly dizzy from the lack of oxygen when two hands hoisted you up and turned you so that you were facing your mate.

“Look at you…” Rhysand praised, smearing your mascara underneath his thumb as another tear ran down your face. “Perfectly ruined, all for me.”

“Only for you.” You whispered hoarsely, closing your eyes when his hand curled around your throat assertively.

The sight of you teary-eyed and wrecked almost made him cum in his pants. You were wrapped around his finger, ready to give him whatever he wanted without realizing that the only thing he did want was you.

“Let’s see if we can wreck you even further. Can you do that for me? Can you take more?” He asked you, wanting to make sure you were okay even if he was about to bust at the seams.

You kissed him softly while grabbing his free hand and guiding it towards your sex, jumping when he brushed against your clit before pulling back so that you were looking into his eyes.

“I told you I wanted you to make me scream so loud they could hear me in the Hewn City. My mind hasn’t changed, Rhysand.” You smirked, letting him sprawl you out on the bed behind you and spread your legs impossibly wide.

Rhys crawled on top of you, kissing your forehead once, before making his way down your body. “Darling, I’m going to make you cry until the skies themselves begin to weep.”

And with one last smirk, he began to feast on your body until the very ground shook from your screams of pleasure.

801 notes · View notes

teejaystumbles · 13 days

Text

Against all odds (part 7)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3

Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…

Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.

With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.

In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.

June 15th, 1989

Dear friend,

I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)

But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.

Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.

I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?

Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate.

I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.

I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?

I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P

Stay safe,

Your friend Hob

Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.

He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.

#stay tuned for another dream😘#dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #1989 au #teejay writes

60 notes · View notes

greynatomy · 1 year

Text

The Letter

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

i cried while writing and every time i reread it to edit. idk if it’s actually sad or i’m just very emotional. happy bday to me, let’s be emotional together.

this is the second part to Dear Scarlett…

hope you enjoy and tell me what you think

-grey

———

“Dear Scarlett,

Hey! It’s been a while. Probably forgot about me, so in case that’s true, it’s Yn.

You probably have so many questions, hopefully this letter answers most of them.

The very last treatment we did worked. It worked and we just tested way too early to find out. I figured out a about a month after you left. I didn’t tell you because we were officially divorced.

About nine months went by, I welcomed Arlo Prince Johansson into the world.

I gave him the last name Johansson because I wanted us all to have the same name. I’m sorry for keeping your surname, I couldn’t bring myself to change it.

This is where it gets crazy.

Two months before Arlo was born, I started getting extreme pains on my side. Thought it was from being pregnant, but it wasn’t. When it didn’t go away, I went to the hospital and they found tumors that were rapidly spreading to my other organs.

It was liver cancer. Advanced-stage. No cure.

I wanted to reach out to you right when I found out, but I see how happy you are now with Colin and I didn’t want to ruin and get in the way of that.

I also knew my time with Arlo was cut short so I became selfish and kept him to myself. It was just us two, and my lawyer.

You’re probably asking why I had a lawyer even after the divorce, well it’s because I had to start planning for his future before I left.

In the bag that he came with, you’ll see a some folders. Inside are all the pictures I took of him, of us. Birth certificate, DNA test, of course, in case you have any doubts. There’s also a couple CDs, SD cards, flash drives in there too.

The SD cards have more photos, the CDs have some videos I took for the major parts of his life like birthdays or his wedding, especially the birth, stuff like that. And the flash drives has some songs.

I know that I was never successful in my music or production, but I recorded some songs that I made for Arlo. Lullabies that I won’t be able to sing to him anymore. There’s also a couple original songs that I wrote through this rollercoaster of a journey.

I think I covered everything. You’re on the birth certificate if you were wondering so when I die, you’ll have full custody.

I know you’ll be an amazing mother to Arlo because of how well you raised Rose.

I love you. I never stopped. All I wanted was for you to be happy and I am glad that you have that with Colin. This is an official goodbye from me. Make sure Arlo doesn’t forget me, please.

With all my love,

Yn Johansson”

“Oh my god.” Scarlett broke down, crying.

Taglist:

@mmmmokdok @ladyqueenxoxo @soulflame29 @natsxwife @sonicqaulan @scarlettsnat @mrsromanoff @nattyswhore @tashakink @aphrcdtes @hottestwhore @vivs46 @wifeofnatasharomanoff

#scarlett johannsen #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson imagines #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines

458 notes · View notes

harrysmimi · 7 months

Note

Hey! I absolutely love all your work. And live to see the Desi representation in some of your work. I was wondering if you could do one where everytime H goes out on stage or interviews all dolled up, the reader does the kajal thing for the bad nazar. I just think H would be like soo bashful and cute about it. Love you.

Evil Eye

First off, thanks anon for sending in the req. I love writing fic where I can imagine myself in. I am glad you like my work. Ilysm. Hope you like this one too. I wrote it real quick in like an hour. Pls ignore the typos if there are any, or simply feel free to point them out I'll edit it. Hehe.

More of my work

Harry was getting ready to perform for BRIT Awards.

He was home. He was with family and the love of his life, about to perform one of his hits. This was going to be one of the happiest nights of his life, he could already tell.

It was time for quick outfit change before he went on stage. His girlfriend of six months was hanging out in his green room with him as he got ready, she was on her laptop working away at a couple of urgent emails she had to send out.

It was her day off, but she's been recently promoted as senior manager at her firm and they need her there more often than it seems to be. Harry was more than content with just her presence by his side. He'd gotten into a pair of black pants before his hair stylist was on board. He'd tried on the few different tops to go with it, his last try was a red sparkly piece.

"You look handsome!" He heard his girlfriend chirp from behind him, when he turned around he saw her looking at him like a love struck puppy behind her glasses, her face lit blue from her laptop screen in the yellow lit room. She was sat on the rug using the coffee table as her desk.

"Thank you baby!" He couldn't help but blush at the compliment he for sure hears a million times when he's working. It somehow felt so special coming from her. She just shrugged in reply. "Did you get a good news from work?"

"Yeah, I got the on-paper for my promotion finally!" She shared.

"That's amazing, darling, congratulations!" He was immediately walking upto her with open arms to engulf her in a bone crushing hug and a tender kiss she deserves so much. "It's more legit now, innit?"

"Yeah! It feels so surreal to be honest!" She chuckled in pure joy. "Enough about me, tonight is for you and about you. Are you excited?"

"More than excited actually." He dat down next to her on the rug. "Can't wait to go out there and perform already!"

"I can see." YN commented, "this jacket looks good on you." She leaned forward with her lips puckered asking for a kiss, which Harry was more than glad enough to give her. He took the opportunity to pull her over his lap, making her straddle his thighs with his hands on her bum.

"Though it would look better on your bedroom floor, along with this hoodie, I think we have a good half an hour before the show." Harry managed to mumble between his kisses on her mouth.

"No, not here!"

"No one's gonna come in, I promise." He urged her, hands slipping under the her (his) hoodie over her bare skin.

"Stop it tickles!" She squirmed under his touch. "No, no, Harry not here please."

He let out a dramatic sigh, "fine!"

"But if you loose the shirt underneath, I might be able to trick my aunty thinking I am staying with a girl friend tonight." She challenged him.

"Then you better get to convincing her, love!" He already took off the jacket so he can rip off the tank top he wore underneath it, being his usual dramatic self.

It is indeed a difficult task to convince YN's landlady, who also happens to be her aunty for letting her stay out. She lives away from her family in London, but she's got her aunty a parent figure in the city, which comes with perks of not paying rent but also cons like still following a curfew, typical brown family behaviour. But none the less YN have managed to trick her aunty into thinking she's staying at one of her friend's house, when in reality she is at Harry's.

Her family knows about Harry, they are very accepting of him. Though her parents won't be happy if they find out their daughter spent a night at his place for obvious reasons.

He was tackling her on the rug now as he tickled her more. They spent their time goofing around and poking fun at one another. In no time Harry was ready to be on the stage.

"A lot of people are going to watch you today." YN pointed on trying her best to make her boyfriend keep his hands to himself for now.

"Mhmm." He sounded stealing a kiss from her. He watched her wipe the kohl from the corner of her eye and placed it behind his left ear, "what was that for?"

"To protect you from evil eye tonight." She shared, "you're looking extra, extra, extra gorgeous!"

"I didn't know you were superstitious." His cheeks turned red in an instant.

"Look at you blushing!" YN cooed at his reaction which had him burying his face into her neck to hide his bashful face. "Awe! Harry you're so cute, I love you!"

"I love you." He repeated.

"Now go and sing your heart out." She encouraged him.

"Mhmm." He nodded placing yet another kiss on her mouth before he was off to the stage just in time.

The night was memorable as expected. Harry got wasted like usual. His sister had to take him to her place as he shouldn't be left alone when he's drunk.

......................................................................

N O T E:

This is smth quick I wrote cuz I haven't posted anything sunce August. 😭 pls forgive me.

I love you. And pls lemme know how you liked it!

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

135 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 4 months

Text

Say Don't Go

SUMMARY: For too long you had been waiting for Vernon. For too long you had let these feelings fester. Now all you can do is wait and beg for him to not let you leave.

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Vernon Chwe x afab!reader

WC: 1.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOGGED

WARNINGS: hurt no comfort, Vernon is an asshole, toxic relationship, implied friends with benefits, mentions of blood/knives but no one actually gets hurt it's just a metaphor, people being nosy at restaurants, a waitress is extra nosy, swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, friends to fwb to ???, ending is open-ended

A/N: I'm planning on finishing this series asap because good god I've been working on it for TOO LONG. Hopefully I'll be able to finish by mid-January jghisrghuis. Also this is NOT edited so i apologize for any mistakes.

Sometimes you wonder where it all went wrong, when you and Vernon went from something to nothing in his eyes.

Even as you lay in his arms now, you know that he would rather be anywhere else but with you in your living room. There’s a coldness in his hand as it brushes your arm, a discomfort in the smile he sends you at every comment you make about the film on your TV screen. Your fingers play with a loose string on his t-shirt and you exhale quietly, letting your body deflate against him.

It had been months now since you and Vernon started messing around. You weren’t dating, no, Vernon hated the idea of being exclusive with someone while he was so young. This was…this was something else. You knew he slept with other people, knew that every night he found someone knew but on the weekends he crawled back to you. He made you think he loved you. You wonder if he knew that you’d only ever slept with him. That he was your first everything, and that it broke your heart every time he left you.

“You’re thinking.” And then he does this. He knows you so well it scares you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Vernon lifts his head off the arm of the couch, straining to look at where you lay on his chest.

“You’re lying to me now?” A crooked smile, playful yet curious, is flashed in your direction. Your stomach churns uncomfortably, knowing that despite him being able to read you so well, you knew nothing of what he was thinking. Not anymore, at least.

“Why would I lie to you?” Your eyes are drooping, and you nuzzle deeper into his chest. His hand slowly trails up your arm and rests on your head.

“Why wouldn’t you?” His voice sounds faint.

“Because I love you.”

He says nothing, and you don’t expect him to. Not anymore. In the past, before acceptance had hit you, maybe you would’ve hoped he would. Maybe you would’ve begged him to say it back, and maybe he would’ve. He would’ve let you believe that he loved you, but you know he doesn’t.

You should’ve known better than to believe that Vernon would show up. You should’ve known better than to convince yourself that he wouldn’t forget you at the restaurant, that he wouldn’t choose someone else over you.

Now, three hours later, you’re finishing up another drink, picking at the dessert you’d treated yourself to after the meal. You weren’t going to let your own naivety ruin your night, even if the tears welling in your eyes have been threatening to spill over like a waterfall. You’re glad you’d chosen a booth for yourself, facing away from the door so you don’t get your hopes up every time it opens.

The knife in your heart has been twisted far too many times, the blood spilling down your chest for all to see. You were tired of it, so why were still holding out hope for him?

Someone sinks into the booth across from you, out of breath and leaning his head back for a few moments.

“Shit, traffic was bad.” Vernon gasps out. A lie. “And— and then the parking. Shit, the parking was awful.” Why is he lying?

“Stop.” Vernon stares at you, his lips still parted as he catches his breath. “Stop lying to me, please. For once.”

His lips draw into a thin line, and he adjusts his position to sit straighter. It almost hurts to see him so dressed up for you, but then you see the lipstick on his collar and your anger comes back.

The waitress returns with your check, shooting Vernon a dirty look. She’d pieced together the story on her own, not that it was hard to figure out. A heartbroken girl, alone in a booth for two hours. Who wouldn’t be able to figure out what happened?

The two of you sit silently in the booth as you fill out your bill, sliding your card into the book and placing it near the edge of the table.

“You’re mad at me.” Vernon concludes, and you scoff.

“Yeah, sure.” You cross your arms, and Vernon bites on his tongue.

“Why— why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” He tries to keep his voice down, his hands tightening into fists. Your eyes scan him, scan his tense posture and the muscles ticking in his jaw.

“I feel like it should be obvious, no?” The ice in your glass of water has melted and you take a small sip, letting the cold liquid slide down your throat slowly.

“Well, I’m sorry to say this, but it’s not.” You sniff, whether in distaste or to hold back your tears you can’t tell. “Sometimes you have to actually tell people what you want.”

“I have, Vernon.” You hiss and smile at the waitress when she grabs the check again. “I have voiced everything to you time and time again, and yet you seem to ignore it. It’s like you don’t care about me— and I’m not talking about our fucking sex life.”

He opens his mouth to talk, but you keep going.

“Did you forget that we were friends before this?” You ask him, and for a moment he thinks it’s rhetoric. When you don’t continue speaking, he stutters out a response.

“I— no, I didn’t, but Y/N—”

“If you didn’t forget then why do you act like this?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips pursed. “All— All I ever asked of you is to prioritize our friendship over anything else. That— that if you thought things were getting past the point of no return, then we’d break it off. But you didn’t, and it’s like you couldn’t give less of a damn about me anymore. Why, Vernon? Why the fuck didn’t you break it off when you figured out I was falling in love with you?”

It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been tossed over him, the heat from running to meet you being entirely replaced with a cold sweat. He knew, of course. How could he not have known when you made it so obvious?

“You— you’re blaming me for this?” He asks. “You’re the one who agreed to be in this relationship— no, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place!”

“Because I liked you!” The tables around you are turning their heads, and you lower your voice. “I knew what I was getting into when you first kissed me at that fucking holiday party at Seungcheol’s, but it’s your fault that it got to this point. It’s your fault for stringing me along even though you knew the whole fucking time.”

Your heart is pounding, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and your head feels like it’s going to explode at any moment.

“So— so this is it then?” Vernon sinks back against the uncomfortable booth. “You’re throwing away six years of friendship because— because what? You couldn’t control your fucking feelings? Well, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna be part of your fucking pity party.” You hear a gasp from the booth behind you, as well as hushed whispers, and suddenly all your anger is replaced by embarrassment.

“I— I can’t believe you.” You whisper, staring at him with wide eyes. “I— why would you say that?”

Vernon’s mind races, thoughts of regret and fear pushing forward as he watches you grab your purse.

“Y/N—” he starts to stand but you raise your hand to stop him. His hands are on the table, the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground.

“I…I loved you, Vernon.” You try to control your breathing, but it feels impossible with the rush of emotions hitting you. “I’m sorry that I meant nothing to you, but do not blame this shit on me.”

He watches you walk away, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Stunned is not quite the word for what he’s feeling at the moment. Confused? No…no he’s not confused. Vernon knows exactly why this happened, and knows that the only person to blame is himself.

You hesitate at the door, your hand reaching for the handle slowly as if waiting for something. He wonders if you’re waiting for him to say something, to chase you and tell you not to leave.

He doesn’t, and he watches you leave the restaurant and shudder under the frigid weather of mid-December.

Your waitress clears her throat, that same dirty look on her face.

“She forgot her card.” She explains, thrusting it back into his hand. “Make sure it gets back to her.”

“I…I uh—”

“I get that you’re a stupid bitch,” she whispers harshly to him, and his head jerks back in shock. “But that girl waited two and a half fucking hours for you. If you give even the tiniest shit about her, you’ll run out the door right now and fix it.”

Vernon’s mouth is hanging open as the waitress walks away to her next table, a fake grin plastered onto her face.

You waited for him.

You waited for him, knowing that he wasn’t going to come, and now he’s fucked everything up beyond repair.

His feet are moving before his mind does.

The bell above his head chimes and his breath is knocked out of him once again when he takes his first gulp of cold air.

Don’t go. Please, please don’t go.

Don’t leave me.

#itsbeeble #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop angst #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #vernon chwe #vernon chwe imagines #vernon chwe angst #vernon chwe x reader #seventeen vernon #reese's moots 🩵#fawn~ 🧼#ally~ ⛄️#brie~ 🫧#reese's works 📩

80 notes · View notes

ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months

Text

The Art of Etiquette Part 3 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Mr. Jeon gets your number and offers to drive you to the Modiste but don't really give you an option to say no Paring: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 3.5k~ Warnings: Like one cuss word but thats about it lol a/n: This took longer than I had expected to post but I hope you guys like it! p.s. roughly edited because I wanted to get it out asap lol

"So start from the beginning again. What exactly did he do?" I hear as Jesse's voice come through the speaker. "He's just trying to intimidate me" I groan, not wanting to relive it again.

"He thinks that that kind of tactic is going to work well enough to make me into a 'lady'. I really don't understand how some of these upper class people think. They're acting like it's the 18th century or something" I complain, walking around my room and putting away the new clothes I bought for this whole charade.

"I mean they more or less are if they're still concerned about stuff like having a girl go through this whole song and dance just so the rich boys know that they're up for grabs now. It just doesn't make sense" he sympathizes. "I'm glad you agree" I say, relieved that I don't have to explain myself to him. "Well why don't you just talk to him about it?" he suggests.

"James? I would but I don't want to make it seem like I'm trying to back out or complain about it. Plus my mother would never let me hear the end of it and she really might convince him to make me get a job instead.

"No I meant Jungkook, or Mr. Jeon or whatever the hell you call him. He could probably answer your questions if you ask nicely" he taunts at the end.

"Talk to him? He doesn't bother to initiate any sort of conversation with me, other than when he tells me to do something. Even when he asks questions he expects me to answer with a 'yes' or 'no' and stops me from asking him anything even if I try" I groan, disgusted at the thought of trying to speak to him like I would any other person.

"He would probably just reprimand me for not doing the homework he gave me since it probably has all the answers I'm looking for" I huff. "Have you done the homework?" Jesse asks, clearly knowing the answer.

"I read the spark notes okay" I admit rolling my eyes "So I know gist of it. I showed you how thick those books were right? There was no way I'm going to be able to finish all of them by Monday" I groan, tossing myself onto the bed.

"Well it's either read or talk and if I were you I would talk to him and get on his good side. It would benefit you more in the long run" he say, stating the obvious that honestly I had not thought of, considering how much he infuriates me.

"At the end of the day though it's up to you babes" he finishes. We talk for a bit more before he has to go and he doesn't forget to remind me to read some more before I go to bed to which I brush off and wrap up the call to prevent any further nagging. But before I'm even able to lock my phone after ending the call I get a text from a random number...

Unknown: You have a fitting tomorrow so we'll be meeting there instead.

I frown for a second as I stare at the screen, contemplating if I should answer or not.

Me: Mr. Jeon? I question making certain that my suspicions are correct.

Unknown: I see that no one has told you yet. Yes it's Mr. Jeon, I acquired your number from Matthew so as to ease our means of communication. He finishes matter o factly.

I stare at the screen again and contemplate how to respond but before I'm able to he sends another message.

Unknown: I hope this hasn't made you uncomfortable. If you would like I can continue to send messages through Matthew instead. he offers after noticing my hesitation to respond

Me: No this is fine, it would make things more convenient for the both of us. I answer, feeling almost as if a barrier between us has been broken down with this nonabrasive conversation we're having at the moment.

Unknown: Agreed. I just checked and noticed that I pass your college on the way to the modiste so I will pick you up instead. he sends, telling me more than offering.

Me: You don't have to do that, I'm perfectly capable of getting myself there on my own. I reply, not appreciating the way he's gone about this.

Unknown: The location is quite far, farther than my house so it would be more cost effective for you if you were to simply accept my offer. Although I've already told your father and he said he would send someone over to pick up your car from the University. So unless you would like to walk there I suggest you come with me. There's the Mr. Jeon we all know and hate...we meaning me.

Me: Yes Mr. Jeon. I reply, knowing that I've lost the battle before it has even begun.

Unknown: I shall meet you outside the main building at 4:15. Sweet dreams. he finishes leaving me confused.

'Sweet dreams? Sweet dreams?' I repeat in my head. 'That's the first remotely nice thing he's ever said to me. Why would he say that? He could've just ended it at 4:15.

Why Sweet dreams?' I shake my head hoping that would in some way get rid of whatever overthinking my brain starts to do but it's no use, especially since I still have it right in front of me.

I change his name to 'Jungkook' because at least that way I can feel like I'm disrespecting him on a daily basis without his knowledge, assuming he will be sending me unnecessary reminders of stupid things he thinks I'll forget.

Knowing me though I probably would've forgotten it anyways since I kind of black out during our lessons at times. He talks so much that after my already mind numbing classes I can hardly focus on what he's supposed to be teaching me.

~~~~~~~~

I walk down the front steps and see an all black car waiting right in front, leaving me to assume it's Mr. Jeon. "Get in or we'll be late" he says after rolling down the window. I roll my eyes and open the door, plopping myself down in the back seat.

"What are you doing?" he questions, looking at me through the rear view mirror. "Putting my seatbelt on?" I answer just as confused as he is. He takes a deep breath in and out and starts up the car, driving away before saying anything else.

"Oh did you expect me to sit up front with you?" I ask now amused at his behavior. "Seeing as I am not your personal driver yes, I did expect you to sit up front" he says tonguing his cheek. 'Huh, so he does that when he's irritated. Noted'.

"Yet you gave me no choice but to drive me there" I argue back. "I did this as a favor so we would both show up on time. I guess I won't offer next time" he says and I can see how much he's trying to restrain himself.

"Mr. Jeon did something happen?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why he's acting like this. He's usually upfront and intimidating, but never angry with me. Maybe a little irritated but the feeling is mutual. "No, now will you please stop being a brat for five seconds? We have a long journey and I would rather we spend it in silence than listening to your insolence" he says raising his voice.

I decide that it's in both of our best interests if I remain quiet but it takes everything in me to do just that. 'Who does he think he is? Calling me a brat?' I scoff quietly to myself and put in my headphones, not missing the glare he sends me through the rear view again. I press play and rest my head against the window, deciding to get some rest instead of dealing with whatever attitude that's got him all messed up.

~~~~~~

"Wake up" Jungkook says once we get there. He looks back and finds me fast asleep with my headphones in, leaving him rolling his eyes and getting out of the car, making sure to slam his door on the way out. He goes around and opens the door I was lying up against and let's me fall a bit but catches me half way before I actually topple out of the car.

"Hey!" I whine, now unfortunately being forcefully woken up. "We're here. Get out and wipe that drool off your face" he says and pushes me back in so I'm sitting upright and makes his way over to the building, not bothering to wait for me.

"What's his issue today?" I groan and reach up to wipe the drool off my face he had spoken about but I find none leaving me even more irritated with the fact that he's not only grumpy but he still has the audacity to try and tease me.

When I finally make my way into the building I'm met with so many different kinds of dresses and fabrics and ribbon and everything that you could possibly imagine that would be in a dress maker's shop.

"This must be y/n!" an older woman, most likely in her sixties says as she comes up and gives me a little smile. "Hello" I say shyly, remembering the scolding that Jungkook had given me earlier until I glance over at him and see that he is giving me an even bigger scowl than he had before.

"I mean it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance" I say giving her a nod. "She's still got a lot to learn" Mr. Jeon says and walk with the dressmaker and talks her through everything that we've planned to do today but I can tell she is already well versed but continues to let him explain all the same.

"Y/n" I hear him call out my name, leaving me bringing my attention back over to him after I had just started to look through the different bolt of fabric that are sitting on the various shelves.

"Yes?" I say remembering to give him a verbal response. "Please go ahead and stand up on that stool over there and wait for her to come up and measure you" I look over at the area he's motioned to to make sure I know exactly where to go so I won't get scolded for not doing as I was told. "Yes Mr. Jeon" I say and make my way over and wait for her.

"Oh you're going to look beautiful in the gowns we're making for you!" the woman says as she happily continues to take my measurements. She notices my reaction and looks around for Jungkook and sees that he's on a phone call in the other room.

"It's okay I won't make them girly and pink". "How did you kno-" "A woman always knows, especially when I've been in this business for so long. Also don't feel a need to be formal with me love. I don't subscribe to that stuffy nonsense" says with a chuckle.

"But you make dresses for them" I say confused with her stance on things. "It's good money dearie, plus I enjoy making them. I started sewing at the age of four believe it or not!" she says looking up at me over the edge of her glasses as she checks to see how long she'll need to make the dresses.

"Are you clumsy at all?" she asks rather randomly if you ask me. "No not really, why?" I ask tilting my head slightly. "I just wanted to see if I should make the hem a bit shorter so you wouldn't step on it but I think you'll be just fine" she finishes and take a final look at me and at the measurements she's written down.

"Perfect! Go ahead and sit down over there and rest you legs a bit while I bring out some dresses that you'll be trying on" she says and turns to make her way over towards the backroom. "Dresses? There's more than one?" I question and she unfortunately doesn't hear me since she's already out of earshot.

"You'll be trying on at least five dresses today. Just so we can make sure we choose the right one" Jungkook says right behind me, scaring the shit out of me. "Sh- I mean, you startled me" I say placing a hand over my chest. "You'll live" he says simply and goes to sit on one of the chairs facing the stool I had been standing on.

"Are you going to just sit there and watch?" I question, seeing as he hasn't made moves to do much else. "It's one of my tasks of being your tutor" he says and fishes out his phone to respond to what I assume is another message.

"Your job is to watch me try on pretty dresses?" I question, amused by the situation. "Yes y/n, it is my duty to make sure that the dresses we choose match the themes of whatever events we are going to, as well as being appropriate to the trends nowadays" he finishes and lowers his voice when he sees the seamstress come back.

"I heard that" she says while rolling a rack of dresses into the room. "Do you see one you like?" she asks and motions for me to come closer. I look at the rack and see there are so many dresses of different colors and patterns and styles, I just don't know what to pick.

"Which one do you think I should try on?" I ask turning towards her. "Well why don't we let Mr. Jeon choose, since he so kindly reminded me that my taste is out of date" she says and winks at me, showing me she's teasing while simultaneously giving Jungkook the cold shoulder.

"I did not mean it as any disrespect. What I was trying to say wa-" "Oh hush child, just come over here and chose a dress before I really start to get upset with you" she teases and he walks closer to the rack looking through the dresses while he sends a glance my way most likely debating on which one might suit me best.

He takes a second to think after looking through all of them but doesn't seem to find one he's satisfied with. Looking around the room for a second he finds another dress on display and walks over to it to take a closer look.

"This one" he says almost bored and walks back over to sit in the chair he had been occupying moments ago. "He's cranky today isn't he?" she whispers to me and I nod my head quickly agreeing. "I'm glad you noticed too" I say and she walks to the back and grabs that exact dress in my size. "Go ahead and change over there and I'll grab some pins incase we need to alter it" she says and I do as I'm told.

Coming out of the little dressing room she has I smooth the dress out and watch as her eyes light up. "This looks incredible on you! I don't even think I'll need to alter it at all!" she says excitedly. I smile at her and thank her silently and see Jungkook walking over to take a closer look.

He takes in my figure from top to bottom and has me do a slight twirl to see it from all angles. "We'll take this one" he says and starts to walk over to the counter to settle the bill. "That's it?" I question her, confused as to how we actually managed to finish this all without me having to try on a bunch more. "I mean he did pick the perfect dress for you" she says walking me up to the full length mirror and I'm shocked at how much I love it as well.

I twist and turn around a bit more to see the movement of the dress and the more I watch the more I fall in love with it. "You're right, this one's perfect!" I say and turn my vision towards where Jungkook had gone to and I notice that he's most likely been watching me this entire time. He clears his throat and fixes his posture to try to cover up for himself but I can see how almost bashful he looks from being caught in the act.

"Why don't you go change and then we'll have this all settled by the time you're done" she says and ushers me back in the room again. "By the way, is there something going on between you two?" she questions, catching me off guard. "What do you mean?" I ask turning around to face her. "I mean I've never seen him look at someone like he just was a few moments ago" she points out, confirming my suspicions.

"Plus, in all my years of him bringing his students here he has never once put in any effort to pick out a dress, and half the time the student ends up loving the dress while both Jungkook and I disagree but he lets them choose it nonetheless" she says and I take a look at myself in the mirror again, trying to asses if this is the one that I really truly want.

"It just seemed like he knew you and he knew exactly what would look good on you without even having to try" she says giving me a smug smirk. "No ma'am please it's nothing like tha-" "I'm just kidding child don't worry. I swear no one in your generation can take a joke anymore" she says and walks out of the room laughing at the slight panic I had started to go through.

~~~~

"Thanks for the ride" I say when we pull up to my house, this time having sat in the front seat. "No problem" he says and looks over at me, this being the first time he truly had this entire trip, or at least the first time I noticed. "Hey can I ask you a question?" I say, stopping before I reach for the handle to get out. "You just did" he says, this being one of the first times he's tried to make some sort of joke.

I roll my eyes at him and I see a flash of an almost smile but it's gone as soon as it came, being replaces with his usual stoic expression. "How did you know what dress to choose for me?" I ask and watch as he gets awkward again just like he had done when we were back at the modiste.

He turns to look out the wind shield, this time giving me a full view of how the tips of his ears have gone a bit red from the question. "I'm not sure, I think having to go through that process so many times it just seemed like that one was the obvious pick" he says and gets out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I ask following suit and watch as he pulls the garment bag out and starts walking up the steps to the front door. "I'm making sure the dress stays well taken care of. I'll hand it to one of the staff when they open the door" he says and waits for me at the top of the stairs. Before I'm even able to reach for my keys I hear the door being unlocked and the face of my mother comes into view.

"Oh hello, you must be Mr. Jeon" she says sending him a bright smile to which he reciprocates and bows a bit as a sign of respect. "Hello, I just wanted to make sure that y/n and her dress got back safely" he says and she waves one of the housekeepers over to carry it up to my room for us although it would've been fine by me if I could've just done all of this by myself.

"Well that was very sweet of you. Would you like to stay for dinner? It should be ready soon, plus we would like to show our gratitude to you for making such a long journey there and back for her" she offers.

"Perhaps another time. I have a business meeting across town tonight but thank you so much for your generosity" he says, politely declining. "Well thank you again for bringing her home" she reiterates and I start to not so subtly try to usher her back inside.

"Come on mom he said he has to go" I say to her under my breath. "Well it was so nice to meet you Mr. Jeon. I hope we'll see each other again soon" she says, leaving me having to almost push her inside.

"Thank you Mr. Jeon have a good night" I say and as I turn to close the door he says the same thing that had me over thinking just last night. "Good night y/n, sweet dreams" he says with a soft smile and heads to his car, driving off and leaving me with a confused mix of emotions yet again.

prev / next Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie @hehurst23 @caro134340lina @ye0nvibezzn @olimpiiaa @hrtsj1m @junecat18 @ellesalazar @babycandy111 @felixz4life @lively-potter @esther-kpopstan @gyukookswhore @koohrs @skzthinker @vminkookgf

Join my Taglist

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

91 notes · View notes